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===Post of the Month - October 2010===
===Post of the Month - October 2010===
====by [[Francine Hart]]====
====by [[Francine Hart]]====


ON:
ON:




Patterson: OK so either this is a joke I'm not getting or at the least I'm missing something.
(Turbolift, USS Pacifica)
 
 
Markson: You finished the analysis.
 
 
Patterson: Yup, just checked a few of the genetic markers, all that you can with a tricorder scan. But it was enough to convince me they're your skin cells. Did you find them on a dog or something, because otherwise it's a bit late in life to be discovering you've got skin.
 
 
Markson: Thanks Sarah, you don't know how much this means to me.
 
 
Patterson: You've got that in one, but no problem I guess.
 
 
She closed the comm. link.
 
 
The Lieutenant Commander had just finished pulling on his uniform when he noticed the slim figure standing at the doorway, her long hair wet and tangled.
 
 
James: *smiling at the sight of her* Good bath?
 
 
There was a non-committal shrug and murmur in response.
 
 
James: Hold on a second.
 
 
He slid past her into the bedroom and rummaged around in the back of a drawer by the bed. He retrieved an old brush from it and handed it over to the girl at the doorway. James watched her.
 
 
James: Do you want me to brush it for you?
 
 
She had stopped short of raising the brush to her hair, and now ran her index finger along the handle's edge. It was a carved handle, shaped in the likeness of a thick rope, but in stone, its dark surface cold and smooth to touch. The rim of the brush continued this theme, and the whole brush seemed one short length of looped rope, knotted at the end of the handle. It was one of those things he kept in a bag at the back of the drawer, a reminder of a half-forgotten childhood, of a time when his mother would take the time to use such things, when he would whine at the delay as she tidied his bedraggled mane. It was a thing not appreciated at the time, but now wrapped up within the rope of the brush; a memory tied away and almost forgotten.
 
 
<<9 years previously>>
 
 
James: Yeah of course it's great to be home, not like I'm not enjoying myself at the academy, but you know.
 
 
He trailed off. He always had to choose his words carefully with his mother. Given the slightest excuse she would find something to be concerned about. Perhaps it would be best if he just changed the subject before he was guided into turbulent waters.
 
 
James: So how are things here? You didn't say much when last we talked over the phone.
 
 
Mother: Well there really wasn't all that much to say. Everythings going fine. Your father has got it into his head that it was a good idea to buy us a yacht for our anniversary, so he just went ahead and did it as usual. I really don�t know how often we're going to be able to get down to Dartmouth to use it though. So far it�s just sat there. I don't know if it's safe to take Sophie out in it, especially since we haven't had many calm days so far this summer. Your father insists there's nothing dangerous about it but I'd rather not risk it to be honest. And I don't want to leave her here alone so I don�t know when it'll actually be taken out.
 
 
James: Well I�m home for a week, and the wonderful weather can�t last forever. I can stay and look after my little sister and you can take this new boat out.
 
 
Mother: Are you sure about that?
 
 
James: Yeah really it's no problem. I've hardly got to spend any time with her at all what with being off at the academy all this time. It's bad enough that I've missed all but one of her birthdays.
 
 
Mother: *smiling* Alright then, I'll talk to your father and we'll probably go out tomorrow.
 
 
<>
 
 
His parents had indeed left that morning, and it was now lunchtime. James had already been out for a walk with Sophie, and had ended up carrying her back when she had declared she was tired. She seemed to love being tall and was constantly reaching up to brush her hands through the overhanging leaves over the paths they walked on. They had stopped by the river and she had wet her feet standing in the shallow water. Before she had put her tiny shoes back on James had dried her feet with his shirt. Now it lay outside on the patio, drying on a deckchair. James stepped out through the French windows into the dappled shade and called out.
 
 
James: Sophie. Foods ready.
 
 
Only the birds answered with a flurry of tweets, obviously not interested by his offer as they fled from the top of the oak tree at the sudden breach of the quiet. James had left Sophie sitting in the garden to sort out some lunch, and when last he had looked out through the window she had been lying on the grass, picking daisies and buttercups. The wooden table in the sun caught his eye. There was arrayed in white and yellow two tidy words. The picked flowers spelled out, 'FIND MEE'. James smiled at the two Es. She had managed to make him feel eight again, when similar games had seen the passing of many a summer day with his younger brother. At the academy it was all about responsibility, about maturity and reliability. Now he was home, food could wait a few minutes while he looked for his baby sister. Throwing the tea towel back inside onto the kitchen table he looked around the garden, over the dappled shade underneath the old oak tree, the rope swing swaying gently in the breeze. A giggle reached his ear and he turned to look at the rose garden, and see a brown amidst the red and yellow, disappearing around the side of the house. James vaulted over the railing by the side of the patio, and the small flowerbed on the other side of it, his trailing foot brushing through the tall lavender before his bare soles touched the springy lawn. He set off at a sprint, unhindered by his shorts and with the sun on his back. Once at the roses he paused and looked around again. The ajar back door caught his eye and he ran to it, following a noise up the stairs.
 
 
James: Come out, come out, wherever you are.
 
 
Another giggle, this time from James' own room.
 
 
He slowly pushed the door open, and found her sitting on his bed, running a brush through her hair as she grinned at him.
 
 
James: I found you. Want to have some lunch now?
 
 
Sophie: I'm brushing my hair first.
 
 
James: Do you want me to brush it for you?
 
 
Sophie: Alright.
 
 
She pressed the brush into his hands as he sat down beside her and sat up expectantly. James studied it as he ran it smoothly through her silky hair, and for a long time they sat in silence.
 
 
James: Is this your brush.
 
 
Sophie: Yesup. Mum got it for me on my birthday.
 
James: Yesup?
 
 
Sophie: Mum says 'yes' and Dad says 'yup'. I say 'yesup'. It annoys Mum though.
 
 
James laughed.
 
 
Sophie: I like you brushing my hair. Why are you never home?
 
 
James: I'm at Starfleet Academy training to go on starships.
 
 
Sophie: That's what Mum said. Are they like the ones on the news? Like the Enterprise?
 
 
James: I doubt I'd get on a ship as good as the flagship, but yes, like that.
 
 
Sophie: So that means even when you finish at Starfleet Cadyme you won't come home.
 
 
James: Probably not.




James had finished brushing Sophie's hair and now ran his index finger along the handle's edge. It was a carved handle, shaped in the likeness of a thick rope, but in stone, its dark surface cold and smooth to touch.
Francine waited patiently for the turbolift doors to shut affectively sealing her off from the rest of the bridge, before she allowed a second yawn to escape from her lips. She was tired, there was no doubting that and she was eagerly looking forward to shortly curling up in bed, but her decision to leave the bridge early had left her feeling somewhat troubled. She couldn’t help but feel that it had been slightly unprofessional to end her watch on the bridge early, despite the fact that Commodore Butterworth had almost insisted on it. She fully understood where the Commodore was coming from with it all and she was grateful for the chance to catch up on her sleep, but it still didn’t feel right to her.




Sophie: Do you like my brush?
She rested her shoulders against the rear wall of the large turbocart and looked across at the sealed doors as she waited patiently for them to open and reveal the yellow brick road that would lead her back to her quarters. The doors however didn’t open and it took Francine a few seconds to realise why, as the computer was still waiting for her to state her intended destination.




James: It's beautiful.
Hart: Deck Three.




Sophie: I can give it to you, then you can remember me when you brush your hair. That's what Mum said on my birthday. But I see her every day and you don't see me.
The computer beeped in acknowledge of Francine’s request, before the turbolift started to softly glide down towards it’s next destination. The fact that Francine had forgotten to direct the turbolift was another all to clear sign to her that she really needed the sleep. At the moment it felt like all of her thoughts were jumbled into one big mess and she was starting to wonder if she was making a mountain out of a mole hill with the entire bridge thing. Francine reluctantly peeled herself up off of the wall that she had been using to support herself on and glanced across at towards the doors as the turbolift slid to a halt. The turbolit’s doors opened to reveal the empty yet welcoming sight of the main corridor that looped around the deck. Francine stepped off of the lift and proceeded to follow the all too familiar path to her quarters. After a few minutes of walking, Francine pulled up outside of her quarters and thumbed the small access panel next to the door.




James: No, I couldn't do that. It was your birthday present, and besides, I hardly ever brush my hair, its too short.
Francine was greeted by a truly magnificent sight as the doors slid open to reveal her quarters which were bathed in beautiful orange and red hues that provided a wonderful contrast to the brightly lit metallic corridor that she had just been standing in. The lights in her quarters were currently switched off and there was little point in turning them on as the Ti’ane System’s star provided her with all the light that she needed. Only the very edges of her quarters remained in an almost shadowy darkness while the rest basked in the star’s natural light. The scene before her eyes warmed Francine’s soul as it reminded her of home and of the breakfasts that she use to have with her parents in their sun soaked kitchen. Her parents had always been early risers which meant that breakfast was often served just as the sun started poking up on the horizon. This always casted their kitchen in the warmest of glows, and they had seen a number of beautiful sunrises from their kitchen table. It had always been the perfect way to start the day and for Francine at the moment it was the perfect way for her to end her long night.




Sophie: But why can't it be your present as well? Pleeease?
She carefully pulled out the pins that had held her red hair up in a bun and allowed to fall loosely down around her neck and shoulders. She slowly ran a hand through it as she straightened out the slightly hints of curls and walked across to her desk. She placed her hairpins neatly down on the desk then noticed on her personal monitor that a small indicator light was flashing. The blinking green light represented a new subspace message that had mostly likely come in for her during her shift on the bridge. She guessed that it was most likely from her mother who had been checking in a lot with her ever since she had learned the Pacifica was going to be involved in the fight against the Gorn. Francine knew that her mother was worried about her and she had been that way ever since she had found out about the Pearen Mission, it wasn’t something that bothered her though as she enjoyed the constant correspondence with home. For the moment though Francine chose to leave the message where it was, as the only thing that was on her mind at the moment was getting some sleep.




James: Alright, but if you want it back you just have to ask me.
Leaving her desk Francine strolled across her quarters in the direction of her bedroom removing the top half of her uniform with each step. She entered her bedroom and removed her commbadge from her uniform jacket before she dropped it neatly down in to a little pile on the floor along with her gold tunic and the light standard issue undershirt that she also been wearing. Her shoes were the next to, as she kicked them off of her feet while retrieving her flimsy night clothes from the top draw of her dresser. Francine moved her gaze back to the beautiful scene outside of her window at what would be an almost permanent sunrise for the Pacifica’s stay in orbit and quietly changed out of the rest of her uniform and into her sleep ware.  




Sophie: I don't. Now you have to write to me every time you brush your hair, and I'm going to get lots of letters.
She moved her trousers and discarded undergarments across to join the rest of her uniform with her foot, before she pulled back her bedcovers to reveal her silky sheets. She stole one final look at Ti’ane’s star then climbed into her warm and inviting bed. Her hand fumbled about with the small control panel that was built into the bedside table and she reluctantly hit the button that closed the shutters on her windows, causing the entire room to fall into complete darkness.  




James: But we can have lunch first, c'mon.
Hart: ;;brushes the hair out of her eyes;; Computer, set the alarm for 1600 hours.




A few times in the next few weeks James had sent letters, but then as tests came down on him they subsided to a monthly affair, and then yet more sparse. But he kept the brush.
Computer: Acknowledged.




James looked at the small girl, now not quite so small, in the doorway as he straightened his uniform and attached his pips.
Francine pulled her bedcovers up to her shoulder as she rolled onto her side and allowed her head to be fully supported by her soft inviting pillows. She shuffled about slightly beneath the sheets before allowing her eyes that had grown heavy to close. It normally took Francine more than a few minutes to drift off into a slumber, but that was far from the case today, as she quickly drifted into the warm embrace of sleep.


"No, I can manage on my own."


OFF: I’m mostly going to be sleeping here until the actual promotion ceremony, but never fear as I’ve got a lot more posts in the pipeline.


OFF:


Lieutenant Francine Hart <br>
Lieutenant Francine Hart <br>

Latest revision as of 09:17, 6 November 2010

Post of the Month - October 2010

by Francine Hart

ON:


(Turbolift, USS Pacifica)


Francine waited patiently for the turbolift doors to shut affectively sealing her off from the rest of the bridge, before she allowed a second yawn to escape from her lips. She was tired, there was no doubting that and she was eagerly looking forward to shortly curling up in bed, but her decision to leave the bridge early had left her feeling somewhat troubled. She couldn’t help but feel that it had been slightly unprofessional to end her watch on the bridge early, despite the fact that Commodore Butterworth had almost insisted on it. She fully understood where the Commodore was coming from with it all and she was grateful for the chance to catch up on her sleep, but it still didn’t feel right to her.


She rested her shoulders against the rear wall of the large turbocart and looked across at the sealed doors as she waited patiently for them to open and reveal the yellow brick road that would lead her back to her quarters. The doors however didn’t open and it took Francine a few seconds to realise why, as the computer was still waiting for her to state her intended destination.


Hart: Deck Three.


The computer beeped in acknowledge of Francine’s request, before the turbolift started to softly glide down towards it’s next destination. The fact that Francine had forgotten to direct the turbolift was another all to clear sign to her that she really needed the sleep. At the moment it felt like all of her thoughts were jumbled into one big mess and she was starting to wonder if she was making a mountain out of a mole hill with the entire bridge thing. Francine reluctantly peeled herself up off of the wall that she had been using to support herself on and glanced across at towards the doors as the turbolift slid to a halt. The turbolit’s doors opened to reveal the empty yet welcoming sight of the main corridor that looped around the deck. Francine stepped off of the lift and proceeded to follow the all too familiar path to her quarters. After a few minutes of walking, Francine pulled up outside of her quarters and thumbed the small access panel next to the door.


Francine was greeted by a truly magnificent sight as the doors slid open to reveal her quarters which were bathed in beautiful orange and red hues that provided a wonderful contrast to the brightly lit metallic corridor that she had just been standing in. The lights in her quarters were currently switched off and there was little point in turning them on as the Ti’ane System’s star provided her with all the light that she needed. Only the very edges of her quarters remained in an almost shadowy darkness while the rest basked in the star’s natural light. The scene before her eyes warmed Francine’s soul as it reminded her of home and of the breakfasts that she use to have with her parents in their sun soaked kitchen. Her parents had always been early risers which meant that breakfast was often served just as the sun started poking up on the horizon. This always casted their kitchen in the warmest of glows, and they had seen a number of beautiful sunrises from their kitchen table. It had always been the perfect way to start the day and for Francine at the moment it was the perfect way for her to end her long night.


She carefully pulled out the pins that had held her red hair up in a bun and allowed to fall loosely down around her neck and shoulders. She slowly ran a hand through it as she straightened out the slightly hints of curls and walked across to her desk. She placed her hairpins neatly down on the desk then noticed on her personal monitor that a small indicator light was flashing. The blinking green light represented a new subspace message that had mostly likely come in for her during her shift on the bridge. She guessed that it was most likely from her mother who had been checking in a lot with her ever since she had learned the Pacifica was going to be involved in the fight against the Gorn. Francine knew that her mother was worried about her and she had been that way ever since she had found out about the Pearen Mission, it wasn’t something that bothered her though as she enjoyed the constant correspondence with home. For the moment though Francine chose to leave the message where it was, as the only thing that was on her mind at the moment was getting some sleep.


Leaving her desk Francine strolled across her quarters in the direction of her bedroom removing the top half of her uniform with each step. She entered her bedroom and removed her commbadge from her uniform jacket before she dropped it neatly down in to a little pile on the floor along with her gold tunic and the light standard issue undershirt that she also been wearing. Her shoes were the next to, as she kicked them off of her feet while retrieving her flimsy night clothes from the top draw of her dresser. Francine moved her gaze back to the beautiful scene outside of her window at what would be an almost permanent sunrise for the Pacifica’s stay in orbit and quietly changed out of the rest of her uniform and into her sleep ware.


She moved her trousers and discarded undergarments across to join the rest of her uniform with her foot, before she pulled back her bedcovers to reveal her silky sheets. She stole one final look at Ti’ane’s star then climbed into her warm and inviting bed. Her hand fumbled about with the small control panel that was built into the bedside table and she reluctantly hit the button that closed the shutters on her windows, causing the entire room to fall into complete darkness.


Hart: ;;brushes the hair out of her eyes;; Computer, set the alarm for 1600 hours.


Computer: Acknowledged.


Francine pulled her bedcovers up to her shoulder as she rolled onto her side and allowed her head to be fully supported by her soft inviting pillows. She shuffled about slightly beneath the sheets before allowing her eyes that had grown heavy to close. It normally took Francine more than a few minutes to drift off into a slumber, but that was far from the case today, as she quickly drifted into the warm embrace of sleep.


OFF: I’m mostly going to be sleeping here until the actual promotion ceremony, but never fear as I’ve got a lot more posts in the pipeline.


Lieutenant Francine Hart
Chief Operations Officer
USS Pacifica NCC-72545
Bravo Fleet

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