A New Start

Posted on Sun Mar 2nd, 2025 @ 12:51pm by Lieutenant Alvy Vithu
Edited on on Thu Mar 6th, 2025 @ 3:36pm

956 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: R&R
Timeline: Up to present day

Alvy was getting impatient. She had been sitting outside her superior officer’s office for fifteen minutes now, after the sudden request for a meeting had pulled away from her desk. Time that she could have been spending drowning herself in yet another meaningless report about the progress of repatriating injured Romulans after the end of the Dominion War. Equally mind-numbing, but at least it was something to do.

She sighed, and gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Quite cute, she thought to herself, chuckling. The natural black was starting to show at the roots of her hair, dyed a dark red and cut into a shoulder-length bob to hide her ears. She contemplated making an appointment to fix it, but had found the gradient quite nice to look at. And the cosmetician had done an amazing job with her eyebrows, she marvelled again. Like this, a passing stranger would definitely not believe her to be anything other than human. Just as intended.

“Lieutenant Vithu?” The receptionist’s voice ripped Alvy from her musings. “Sorry for the wait, sir. Commodore Leclerc is ready to you.”

With a nod, Alvy stood, straightened her uniform, and entered the Commodore’s office. Commodore Leclerc was a classic desk jockey, she observed as she looked at the man behind the desk. He was getting on a little in years, and had pretty much retired to a cushy job managing the Starfleet Intelligence office here in London - not a particularly challenging task, and not one that offered much more career progression opportunities, but she knew that Leclerc was not an ambitious man.

“Ah, Vithu.” The Commodore smiled as he greeted the new arrival. “Please, take a seat. Tea?, he added, waving his hand towards the pot on the small side table behind him.

“No, thank you, sir,” Alvy replied as she sat down in the chair opposite the Commodore. “May I ask why you wanted to see me?”

“Ah, yes, of course!”, the Commodore exclaimed, as if he had forgotten why she was here in the first place. “I see you requested a transfer to shipboard duty. Shame to have you leave us, really. Your knack for the Romulan language and its nuances has really helped us out, you know. As good as the universal translator is, it’s not perfect.”

Alvy nodded. “I understand that, sir, but I feel my skills are wasted, working in an office. I was trained to work on a ship, and that is where I want to be.” She did not add the fact that, of course, transferring to a ship would hopefully mean she would not have to work with Romulans. Sure, underneath everything she had done to disguise it, her blood still ran as green as ever, but she hated the Romulan Star Empire more than anything else in the known universe.

The Commodore pondered for a moment, and finally nodded. “Understandable, yes. Well, I have submitted your transfer request to Starfleet Command, and they have approved it. You will be transferring to USS Britannic, a hospital ship, in four weeks.” He handed Alvy a PaDD. “This has all the details of your posting. Now, you have family up in Scotland, right? I think it might be best if you take the rest of the week to wrap up your work here, and then spend some time back home. Take some leave. Report to the Starfleet office in Edinburgh at 0900 on the date of your transfer, and they will arrange transport to your new ship.”

Alvy glanced at the PaDD. USS Britannic, Nightingale-type of the Nebula-class. There were profiles on the command officers, as well as some recent mission reports, but those would be for later reading. It was captained by an Aurelian, she noticed. She had never met one of their people before, but knew of them from some reports she had read. It was definitely going to be an interesting posting.

“Thank you, Commodore,” she finally said, smiling. “It has been a pleasure serving here, but my calling is in the stars. I am looking forward to returning to them.”

“Yes, of course,” Leclerc replied, almost absent-mindedly sipping his tea. “Well, that’s all I wanted to talk to you about. You have your assignment. Dismissed.”

----

“Lieutenant Alvy Vithu, assigned to USS Britannic. I was told to report here to arrange transport.” It was a grey, rainy morning in Edinburgh. The small Starfleet station inside the old Waverley Station was almost empty, with only a tired-looking Andorian manning the front desk. Even though the day would mostly be spent on a shuttlecraft, Alvy had put on a brand new uniform, though it was mostly covered by an old, black leather trenchcoat she had donned to protect against the rain.

“One moment,” the Andorian replied, stifling a yawn. He spent a few moments going over some files on his terminal, before speaking again. “Ah, yes, got it here. Take the transport pad up to Spacedock, then go to shuttlebay six. A runabout will take you to Britannic. You’ve already sent your personal belongings?”

Alvy nodded. “Checked it all yesterday.”

“Good, it should all be loaded onto the runabout already then. Transport pad one, right through there. Safe travels.” The Andorian waved towards the door, then took another sip from the steaming mug on his desk.

Since the conversation was clearly over, Alvy simply nodded and made her way to the transport pad. An hour later, she was sitting on board a Danube-class runabout, a simple ham sandwich in her hands, and a cup of earl grey in front of her. Her journey had begun.

 

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