Kelleher stepped out of the Armadillo Class shuttle that had ferried him over to the Wolverine from his ride out to the donkey end of nowhere. He wasn’t a small stature man, being tall and solidly built like someone who ate whole chickens for breakfast and hit the gym for R&R, but not overly buff or musclebound.

Rather flamboyantly dressed in a loud, colorful shirt and wearing sunglasses he paused at the bottom of the short ramp, pulled those sunglasses down slightly so he could look over the top of them revealing grey-green eyes, and looked around the area. His free hand had dropped a large duffel bag on the ground and the other seemed to be holding a box of glass bottles by a cardboard handle, which audibly clinked when he walked.

Finishing his survey of the landing bay, he spread both his arms wide causing the bottles to clink, and shouted. “Honey! I’m home!” To everybody and nobody in particular. “Someone give me a hand with the jukebox would you? Maybe get a grav sled? Gotta be gentle with her, she’s an antique from Starfleet’s formative years!”

Lt Cmdr Kelleher

OOC: Open thread, feel free to join and welcome the Ops manager.