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Send Off

Posted on Sun Jan 7th, 2018 @ 4:49pm by Commander Leigh Jacobs & Lieutenant Commander Mark Cross & Lieutenant Me'Shlaht & Lieutenant Alara Samar & Lieutenant Evan Lougheed & Senior Chief Petty Officer Coltan Xan & Lieutenant JG Vitaath Zh'challiss

Mission: A Valiant Beginning
Location: Messhall; USS Valiant

Commander Leigh Jacobs had decided to call a send off celebration, so she had some real food sent over from the starbase to the ship's mess hall. The Valiant was only a days time from being ready to launch. She had invited the available crew to the celebration, which would pack the small mess hall but she hoped the celebration would help keep morale high on such a small ship without any luxuries of the larger Federation ships. The smell of the food filled the mess hall as she looked it over, awaiting for the crew to arrive.

Colt entered the Mess Hall and found the captain there waiting for the rest of her crew.

"Ma'am," he said. "Don't worry. They'll show. It's one of the last really fresh meals they're going to get before we shove off. They're not going to pass this up."

Evan stepped into the room and nodded to the two, "Captain, Senior Chief." He said with a smile before helping himself to the punch. "Sadly I assume there isn't anything stronger lying around if we're due to deploy tomorrow?" He asked tasting the drink.

A grin formed at Leigh's mouth and she looked from Evan to Coltan. "I have a bottle of aged Scotch behind the bar. Captain's prerogative, but that's for later."

Before Evan could respond the door opened a few more people entering. "I guess as senior staff we should mingle." Lougheed added, with a nod to the pair before moving off to speak to some of the new arrivals.

Mark skidded to the door of the Mess Hall, taking a few moments to straighten his attire. As was often the case when it came to social occasions, he had become flustered at the thought of being late. As the doors opened, it turned out he was one of the first to arrive. Secretly, he loved social gatherings, it was often something he’d be excited about for some time leading up to it.

He proceeded to make a purposeful stroll to the drinks table so he wouldn’t be empty handed, throwing nods and smiles at the familiar faces he’d run into so far.

"Welcome, commander," Leigh greeted. "Glad you showed."

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Mark reached for the food table. “Good chance to work the room and meet everyone. Literally everyone.”

Leigh chuckled at the joke. "Very true." It was these small commands which made it tougher on captains because whether they wanted to or not, the close space made them all each closer to one another--hell even Admiral Archer's NX Class Enterprise carried more crew than the Valiant did. "How has been your transition so far?"

"I'm getting there..." he looked around again, having previously been used to much more space than this. "More than anything else I'm looking forward to getting underway and sinking my teeth back into something again."

"Be careful what you ask for," Leigh warned with a grin.

Mark returned the grin. "I'm at my best when everything's falling apart around our ears, don't worry about it!"

Leigh nodded, noting her XO's confidence...or perhaps over confidence. "Enjoy yourself, Commander."

Me'Shlaht was not fond of parties. She'd never understood the tendency of other species to want to have a party for everything. But this would probably be their last chance for real food for a long time, and she knew she would regret not partaking in fresh meat. Besides, Commander Jacobs had suggested it would be best if everyone came. So she slinked into the mess hall and casually milled about for a moment or two before scoping out where the food tables were.

"I'm glad you decided to show up," Leigh said, approaching the feline woman. "How has preparations with Security gone?"

"Preparations are going well, but I am waiting for headquarters to authorize and send a complement of TR-116 rifles. They seem to think we will not need them." The tip of Me'Shlaht's tail twitched in annoyance.

"I hope they do send them, because I've got field kits for patching up our people if any of us get shot with one for some reason," Lieutenant Alara Samar commented as she snuck in just in time to catch the tail end of the conversation. "I'm not late am I? I'd hate to miss out on anything that isn't spit out of one of these replicators."

"You're right on time, doctor," Leigh grinned at the woman before turning back to Me'Shlaht. "I'll have a word with them. Being an Academy Instructor and former Security Chief has it's advantages," she winked. Leigh over the years had a few contacts at Starfleet Command that now worked at Starfleet Security and all she needed was to call in a few favors owed to her.

"I would appreciate it, ma'am. Thank you." Me'Shlaht's expression softened slightly.

"From a medical standpoint, I hope you requested the model B over the model C. The projectiles leave a cleaner wound and are easier to patch up if I need to keep a prisoner or, heaven forbid, one of our own people." Alara added. "Besides, from what I've heard unless we're fighting Borg there's not that big of an advantage of having the model C."

[[ Sometime Later ]]

Vitaath entered the messhall and found about a dozen of the crew present. She had tried to balance her compulsive punctuality with a social desire to not awkwardly be one of the first people there. She smiled politely as she shifted past a pair of teal collared POs and moved to the food table. Selecting a few items she turned to the room and looked for a familiar face. She saw none, which having only been aboard for a few hours, most of those spent in her quarters and her room mate not present, quickly exhausted the roster of people she knew. She was quickly intercept by a very talkative Bolian who introduced himself as a Crewman in Security exited for his first shipboard posting.

As Colt's sharp Vulcanoid ears scanned the room, he picked up the lovely sounds of a Bolian unloading his life story on an unsuspecting young officer. Taking pity the young woman, he walked over to her.

"Excuse me, Crewman," Colt said. "I need to talk to the lieutenant for a moment. Why don't you run along and mingle a bit."

"Oh, of course, Senior Chief!" the Bolian said. "I was just telling the lieutenant here..."

"That sounds fascinating!" Colt said. "But I really need to speak with the lieutenant myself. There's a good man."

The Bolian looked like he was going to speak again, but seemed to remember that he was talking to a chief who could at any moment start chewing his ass, so he nodded and left.

"Of course," he said. "Lieutenant. Senior."

"Senior Chief Coltan Xan, ma'am," Colt said after the Bolian had moved on, reaching out for a handshake. "I hope you don't mind me rescuing you from that young man."

"Well Senior Chief. Coltan Xan, I owe you a drink for that one. Let me buy you a punch." She said with a small grin. "Lieutenant JG Vitaath Zh'challiss, Engineering Officer. You can call me Vita." She said extending her hand.

"Nice to meet you, Vita," Colt said, accepting the cup of punch. "My friends call me Colt. I'm the Valiant's Chief of the Boat, so if there's any issue with discipline among your NCOs or Crewmen, please let me know and I'll straighten them out right quick. Same goes if you noticed or discover that someone among your NCOs or Crewmen are struggling with something. It's my job to help them out."

"Thanks," She said with a nod handing him a glass of punch. "There's that drink I owe you."

"Thanks," Colt said. "So, where was your last assignment?"

"My last posting was SB 447 along the Klingon boarder. It was pretty uneventful to be honest." She said with a small laugh. "What about yourself?"

"The brig," Colt replied. "But before that I was Command Master Chief of the USS Muldoon."

"Probably not a particularly eventful last posting for you either then." She said with a small smile.

Leigh stepped in front of the crowd, by the small bar and cleared her throat to be loud enough to hear. "Excuse me! May I have your attention!"

Vita turned stopped mid conversation and turned to face the Captain.

Leigh continued after all eyes turned to her and the conversations died off. She held up a bottle of Scotch dated 2357 and handed it to a nearby crewman. "Pour everyone a shot, would you?" she said, opening the bottle and pouring a bit into a shot glass on the bar.

"Yes ma'am," the crewman replied, taking the bottle before going about the crew, starting with the senior officers first.

"I want to congratulate everyone on a fine job you've all done!" Leigh smiled at her new crew. The Valiant will be launching at 0800 tomorrow to begin her patrol of the Icor Sector. So far, I am proud of you all! No doubt we will likely face dangerous situations but you would not be aboard if I didn't have full faith in your abilities." She grabbed the shot glass and raised her hand. "Here is to the crew of the USS Valiant!"

Mark shuffled a little closer to the bar to catch a glimpse of the bottle. Whiskey. Nice. He graciously received his glass from the crewman, propping himself up in prime position so that he could see some of the funny faces that would be pulled any second now. It was an acquired taste.

Evan clinked his glass with a few nearby crew mates before knocking back the shot. "Nice speech ma'am." He said with a grin. "Let's hope you didn't set the bar too high." He joked.

"Then I'll be sure to give you a boost, lieutenant," she replied, grinning.

 

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