Post 434: Mail Call

Stardate:70904.1955
Title: Mail Call
Author: TC Blane
Scene: Bridge
Time: Following "The Finest Line”

TC watched as the Captain and first officer left the bridge in his hands. This was a far cry from where he ever thought that he would wind up when he started his carrier in Starfleet. He slowly moved to the center seat and looked down upon it contemplating whether to sit down. He ran his hand along the smooth cool leather of the seat back, his fingers tracing its shallow lines, but opted not to sit. Not right now at least.

He took to walking about the bridge with his hands tucked comfortably behind his back. His rhythmic pace carried him gently and steadily across the deck. He resembled a drill sergeant pacing the barracks during inspection. He made his way to each of the duty stations on the bridge taking a cursory glance at each to make sure all was in order. Before he knew it he was back at the center seat.

He glanced down again at the seat. It seemed larger then life to him, yet, it also seemed inviting. He once again considered taking his place in the chair. It was his chair, well for now anyway. He moved to the front and slowly sat down.

It was comfortable, but it just did not feel right. The center seat was the Captain's regardless who might be manning the bridge at any given time. He quickly stood back up from the chair. He sudden change in direction from seated to standing drew a few stares from the bridge crew and a few smiles as well. All were quickly hidden from the chief before he could see them.

Silently cursing himself he once again started to pace the bridge and eventually wound up back at the center seat, this time he simply stood behind it and took to leaning forward his elbows comfortably resting on the plush headrest of the command seat.

“Sir.” The ensign manning the tactical station called out. “There are two supply shuttles in route to us. The Kenu and the Valkie.”

TC moved from the back of the chair happy to be doing something and stood next to the tactical station. “Are we expecting them?”

She nodded. “Aye, they are on the supply list.” She hit the controls to bring up more detailed information. “The Kenu is carrying perishable supplies, food and meds I would assume, and the Valkie is carrying…” She looked up and smiled. “crew mail.”

The statement drew several smiles from the bridge staff and a quiet excited murmur. The words ‘crew mail’ had been special to ships crew for centuries. The words were indistinguishable with ‘from home’ to sailors. Even with the advancements in communications and replicators the mail that was delivered to ships like the Independence gave the crew a link to their homes, lives, and families away from the ship.

Even with the video and electronic mail the crew receives while cruising around the universe is an important link home it can not compare to getting that hand written love letter or birthday card. The replicator make a good cookie but nothing beats grandma’s homemade chocolate-chocolate chip that you get in that specialty wrapped tin from home, not to mention that long overdue birthday and holiday gift that finally arrives.

TC smiled fully understanding the importance to the crew. “Very well. Give them clearance to dock in the first available bay.”

He walked back over to the center seat. He glanced down at the controls on the arm of the seat and looked around until he found the one for the communication system. He tapped it. “Bridge to Ensign Biggs.”

There was a slight pause. [Biggs here.]

“Ensign I need you to meet the shuttle Valkie in…” He frowned suddenly realizing that he was lacking the bay information. He glanced back at the tactical station to find the ensign holding up two fingers in answer to the question he had not asked yet. “two. To facilitate the delivery of crew mail.”

There was a slight pause before Biggs reply came and TC could hear the underlying excitement. [Yes Sir I’ll get right on it.]

TC smiled. “Oh, and Biggs, if I was you I would keep this under wraps until you are ready. Got me?”

[Understood, Biggs out.]

TC closed the channel and stared down at the chair again considering if he should take a seat. It took only a second to come to his conclusion.

“Nah.” He shook his head and returned to his spot behind the chair and stared out the forward viewscreen at Earth.

Lt. TC Blane
Operations Chief
USS Independence NCC-90791