Settling in... Quickly

Posted on Wed Jan 13th, 2010 @ 10:36am by Commander Basil Hart

818 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: FORGING AHEAD
Location: CMO's Quarters
Timeline: Present

[Officer's quarters]

ON

Lieutenant Commander Basil Hart got precise directions to his quarters from the ever-helpful computer, and stood in the doorway of his new quarters. His door closed behind him with a familiar pneumatic whoosh. They were bigger than his quarters at his previous duty station. They were also bare and empty. He unzipped his duffel bag, the only piece of luggage he had, and removed a single object which he placed on his desk. He was proud of the small crystalline dodecahedron in which he had invested. It was a great space and time saver when it came to moving day.

His strong voice seemed to echo through the empty chamber, accentuation his clipped, aristocratic British accent. "Computer: scan for voice print identification, Lieutenant Commander Basil Hart. Also, register Lieutenant Commander Basil Hart as the occupant of these quarters." The computer chirped compliance and after a moment, responded vocally. "Voice print identification: Lieutenant Commander Basil Hart, confirmed. Position: Assistant Chief Medical Officer, Starbase Typhon. These quarters now billeted for occupant Lieutenant Commander Basil Hart." Basil smiled. Now for the fun part.

"Computer: scan the device on my desk and record the following nomenclature: portable pattern buffer." The computer’s response was immediate. "Portable pattern buffer recorded. Device nomenclature stored." The new Chief Surgeon continued his instructions. "Computer, scan the device’s Power Supply and Data Storage matrix. Report any anomalies, attenuation in power output, or degradation of stored data."

Once again, the computer responded with alacrity. "No anomalies, attenuation, or degradation, present." 'Good,' he thought. "Computer, transfer all data stored in the portable pattern buffer and tie in station's transporters. Execute materialization sequence on these coordinates." The familiar hum and accompanying sparkle of the transporter effects surrounded him as he stood in the center of the room, sure that no objects would materialize there. Knickknacks, mementos, and personal possessions materialized around him in their proper places. The two dimensional oil painting of Hart Manor appeared, hanging over the head of his bed. He smiled at the fond memories generated by that memento of his childhood home in England. His father, Lord Hart, and given it to him upon his graduation from Starfleet Medical School. “It represents your roots. May your branches bear worthy fruit." He still missed his Dad, even after all these years, and tried to visit Earth whenever he could, knowing that his father was not long for the world.

Several 21st century Medical books appeared on the shelving next to his bed. They were gifts from his grandfather who was also a physician. On a small hook in the shelving there sparkled into existence a very antique stethoscope which he still liked to use, sometimes preferring it to the biocomps for less serious ailments. He found there was something innately comforting to most patients about personal contact within the bounds of his profession. His grandfather had said, "You cannot truly heal a would without the liberal application of compassion. It acts as the salve to relieve the burden of the sick and afflicted." He believed that with all of his heart.

Then Basil's attention was drawn to a medium-sized piece of scorched metal which materialized next to his view port. He remembered the experience as if it had taken place just last week. Shirley Muldowney was one of the best racing pilots on the shuttle circuit. That’s what made her autograph on that piece of scrap metal so priceless. On the final hairpin turn of the Terra 500 AU Inter-system Grand Prix, she lost control of her craft and had to make an emergency beam-out as the sleek racing shuttle plowed into an old artificial satellite orbiting earth. The shuttle blew two pieces, and he retrieved a small section which he presented to her as a gift, just because he was her number one fan. She autographed the scrap metal for him, politely refusing the gift and smiling at his youthful enthusiasm, but it was still a high point in his life as a shuttle racing fan.

A large, dual-edged hand-and-a-half broadsword appeared, leaning up against the headboard of his bed on the side he preferred to sleep on. He knew that the rest of his gaming gear would be waiting for him in his closet as soon as he had some time to go to the holodeck with his favorite role-playing scenario, “Hall of the Mountain Kings.†Maybe there was another holo-geek aboard Starbase Typhon who might want to join him.

His personal med kit was the last thing to materialize against the wall opposite his bed. He took it with him everywhere he went, as it contained several specialized tools given to him by his grandfather

'Now, it looks like home,' Basil thought, smiling. He sat down at his desk, activated the monitor, and began recording his personal log.

OFF

Lieutenant Commander Basil hart
Chief Medical Officer,
Starbase Typhon

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