Most people who knew Oscar would have thought that his general impersonable nature would mean that he would shy away from any sort of filming. Honestly, the CPO was pretty sure he had overheard one of the production assistants mumble something about being “heavily warned” about Oscar. Of course, camera crews, especially news crews, had to maintain their reputation for being rude, intrusive, and quite capable of ignoring any and all instructions which told them that they should probably avoid doing something. And thus, the camera crew had come to find “the longest-serving non-commissioned member of the new Ogawa crew”. Oscar had a feeling that that was inaccurate, but if they were going to make him seem important, it was an even greater opportunity for him to ruin their day.

“Welcome to my new quarters!” he said as he opened the door and stepped aside so the crew could look in. The fact that there was an entire wall of storage was quite openly on display, including the various, intentionally random identity plates on the various points of access - PLT-007 (small precious metals in scrap form), FYEO-2224 (physical copies of declassified documents that he’d “acquired” for the fun of it), WNK-1976 (old, half-eaten candy pieces), just as a sampling - made it obvious that he wasn’t exactly the normal crew member. The isolation suit and the green everything tone of his body had already given that away, but that had only intrigued the camera crew more.

“As you can see, Starfleet has let me keep a lot of personal belongings over the years. You people wanted to see some stuff from my long career in Starfleet? Well, let me get out something that will really surprise you.”

With that, he went over to a case labeled FAB-0101 that was on the bottom row, entered a quick number sequence into the access panel, and smiled as it slid open. When it did, a full clothing rack slowly raised, and with it, some of the grimiest, smelliest uniforms that anyone had ever encountered since uniforms became standard practice aboard official vessels in any society from anywhere in the galaxy hanging on them.

“These are old duty uniforms that I just couldn’t bear to put in the replicator for atom reclamation.”

Noting the revulsion of a couple of the members of the camera crew, Oscar began to pull out his uniforms - from the full-torso color all the way to the last uniform change before the current iteration. They were torn, smelly, and a few were even discolored with substances even Oscar could no longer identify.

“I once offered to send them to the Starfleet History Museum on Alpha Centauri, but the curator there said that they already had a perfectly serviceable uniform display. I’ve seen it before - no character at all, like they were never even used. Ah well - I can keep them as memorabilia.”

Oscar kicked a side panel, and the uniforms lowered and retracted back into their alcove.

“So, anything else that you want to ask?”

Oscar Cascarrabias
Engineering