it has been a long wait on yorktown station, for the new starship to finish undergoing construction. FINALLY, the crew have begun their move-in. everyone exploring the structural differences. getting a feel for their quarters, and replacing personal items lost to the destruction of the enterprise in the nebula as best as they can … every individual finds comfort in the fact that they are not enduring this alone ( not the feeling of loss, nor the excited buzz of continuing their days in the void of space ), even the vulcan ones.
t’palia has been participating in the exploration of a new home, and suddenly finds herself near the medbay. turning down the hallway that will lead her directly to it, the young vulcan peeks into the room, not yet fully powered up.
❛ i come bearing gifts. how are you settling? does the medical bay have as many upgrades and “new toys” as the science laboratory? ❜ brandishing a bottle of OLD EARTH WINE, that’s mostly gone now, she steps towards the replicator. ❛ since none of the crew is officially on duty, as of yet, i have been going around and sharing with those who choose to partake. are you a wine drinker? it is a celebratory gesture, of the enterprise-a’s maiden voyage tomorrow morning. ❜
leonard is one of the few who enjoys the time OFF --- while others find it hard to keep busy in their absence of a proper starship, he takes a moment to stop and smell the roses, as one might say ... and instead of smelling roses literally, he’d been acquiring some well deserved shut eye, because catching up on SLEEP doesn’t do much for you when you’re crammed into a tin can like a sardine.
but with the christening of enterprise-a close on the horizon, he feels it’s his duty as the chief medical officer to check, re-check, and check again the contents and inventory of the shiny new hypotubes, medical supplies, garments, and other things necessary for deep space exploration ... as he’s been for the past countless hours.
so needless to say, when one is used to the silence save for the constant whir of the oxygen filter running for GOOD MEASURE, the voice penetrating that silence startles him, startles him enough that the hypotubes in his arms nearly crash to the floor. and it’s with a gruff expression and huff to match, the lieutenant commander’s presence befalls his attention just as easily.
❛ gifts, huh? ❜ something in the back of leonard’s mind reminds him of his appreciation that she knows him will enough, that MOST know him well enough, to consider booze enough of a GIFT ; the thought makes something like a bitter laugh filter through his nose before the hypotray finds its place in the cabinet besides the empty sprays. ❛ it ain’t the medbay i’m used to, but i guess it’ll suffice. does the LAB have th’ same nostalgic feel to it, or are ya’ strugglin’ like some? ❜