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I Don't See Myself Dying At My Desk

Posted on Tue Jun 30th, 2015 @ 2:47pm by Captain Aidan Rackham & Chief Petty Officer Edward Vane

Mission: The Belle of Bellatrix
Location: Officer's Mess [Deck 2]
Timeline: 2278.49: 1830hrs.

"Do you ever feel like jacking it all in?" Rackham asked as he flopped into a seat in the officers' mess. Save for him and Vane, there was no-one around except the barman- a crewman whose name he constantly forgot- and a bored looking waiter.

Vane looked at Rackham with a curious expression, and a slight turn in his lips that indicated he wasn't sure if he was being serious or not.

"I'm serious. How long have you been in Starfleet now?" The much younger man asked. For all he knew, Vane could have seen planets rise and fall.

Vane sat back slightly and squinted in thought. "I don't know," he admitted, a slight shake in his voice. He quickly covered it up. "Too long, I suppose," he said, smiling. "Why?"

"I'm just thinking I suppose." Rackham's tone was wistful. "If I wasn't able to remember how long I'd been in Starfleet- that means too long by the way- then I would want to get out there and do something else. Maybe own my own little pub, or live on a beach somewhere. Don't you have a bucket list?"

Vane tilted his head, thinking to himself. Only two people in the world knew that his memories faded over time. One was dead, and the other was Aidan. "I worry that I've already done all of the things on the list," he said, only half joking. "Yes," he said, more seriously. "I have a bucket list. But I won't be in Starfleet forever, Aid," he said. "And I haven't always been in Starfleet either." He shot a look at the man. "Are you thinking of leaving Starfleet?"

"No, not at all. Plus I couldn't if I wanted to. We're stuck out here now." Rackham replied with a grin. The truth was that he was beginning to wish that he was sitting sipping a Piña Colada on a beach somewhere rather than taking a starship he felt ill-equipped to command out on a five year mission. "I don't want to be a lifer, I don't think. I don't see myself dying at my desk while an admiral's uniform pinches at my neck."

Vane stared long and hard at his friend. In a way, he was trying to memorize what he looked like. "You have spent your entire career leading up to this point," he said. "Your own ship, your own crew." He placed his hand on top of the glass in front of him and twisted his fingers slightly, slowly rotating the glass. The vaguely green liquid began to slosh slightly. "She wouldn't know how to say it, but I know the Captain wouldn't want anyone else taking over her command." He looked at Aidan. "It's okay to be afraid, but you can't run, so you shouldn't dwell. It wasn't that long ago that I had my own crisis, and a very good friend," he said, smirking, "told me something I hope I never forget. Stop worrying about the things you can't change, and start changing the things you worry about." He pointed at the table. "Worry about our next move, about the crew, about..." He shrugged. "Women," he said, looking around, chuckling.

Rackham followed Vane's gaze around the room and a wry smile spread across his face. "You're right of course. I need to have more confidence in myself. I just feel like it's all come a bit soon. This was her mission, y'know?" He shook himself out of it. "People will be arriving for the reception soon, I'll let your people get set up."

Captain Aidan Rackham
Commanding Officer

Chief Petty Officer Edward Vane
Chief of Ship's Services
USS Farragut


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