Posted by Commander Dr. Royal Sinclair (Executive Officer) in Settling In, And Settling Down - (Open to anyone)
Royal finally had a some breathing room in his schedule, so he was finalizing his quarters. The Captain had (finally) finished moving her things to the CO’s quarters, and the Operations Team had done a stellar job of cleaning and restoring the room to it’s original state as when the ship departed the construction yard. Now it was Sinclair’s turn to make the place his home.

His first change was furniture. Now, when entering the room, a tall shelving display was directly to the left, separating the dining and replicator area from the seating area. The seating area itself was a low couch below the windows, two chairs facing each other at a ninety degree angle to the couch, and a single large overstuffed chair facing the couch and looking out the window. All of these surrounded a low table. Floating shelves graced the walls, and all over were dozens of models of starships and naval vessels; each one meticulously crafted by hand by the resident of the newly refurbished quarters. One wall contained a large bookcase with books filling the shelves; and on one single floating shelf sat a medal in a display case… The Star Fleet Medal of Honor.

The dining and replicator area held a tall table and four chairs, and it was at one of these that the newly assigned XO sat, magnifying lenses on his eyes, as he worked on a new model. He was in the process of attaching the pylons that would hold the warp nacelles of the latest addition to the collection: the USS Ogawa.

Sinclair, XO

The door chimed, signaling a visitor was just outside his quarters. Bryn stood there wondering if she’d made the right decision. Before cleaning up her desk that afternoon, she’d been going through the first officers medical record and had a question for him. Having decided she was going to hit the lounge for dinner and a drink, she’d changed into a long, loose, dusty rose colored dress and was just stopping to ask him about it before aiming her hungry belly towards deck 4 and the dinner she’d promised herself there.

Smoothing fingers back through loose hair, she pushed it all over one shoulder and wondered if Sinclair had to duck through every doorway.

—Shar