Post by Captain_Quintus on Apr 4, 2016 6:55:34 GMT
"Settling In"
Postby FSF Eris » Thu Aug 04, 2011 8:53 am
Julia lit the small, traditional lamp in the center of the miniature altar that she had just finished placing in her new quarters, and smiled. Finishing off another brief set of prayers, she stepped back to admire her handiwork. She had always created an altar to the gods of her family and house on each of her postings, even if her villa always maintained the massive -- and massively ornamented -- "official" lararium of the family. She sighed, frowning at the simplicity of the small rectangle of sandstone, bare without the statues of the happy, dancing gods that she had placed upon her altars for years. They were lost, along with the rest of the Atlas. The gods had not protected their home aboard that ship, she thought wistfully, and frowned. Too busy protecting her during her prideful foray into the Aquarius's camping expedition-cum-Tzenkethi raid, most likely.
Satisfied (for now) with her altar, she went over to the small couch in her quarters and took a seat, curling into a soft blanket as she reached for her tea, now cool from sitting too long during her divine and domestic pursuits. Julia sighed, picking up one of the padds in the stack left next to the cup -- she did not want anything to do with work at the moment, but then again, putting off the mundane was hardly going to get her anywhere.
It did not take her very long to go through the crew files. A good seventy-percent of the crew and nearly all of the higher ranking junior to senior officers had remained the same -- most of the losses were some sort of casualty of war, either literally casualties or the types who had gone into the Fleet without thinking through what might happen if giant cat-lizards started to rape the Federation's colony-worlds. Not that any of them had.
She had never been particularly good at the "knows every face, knows every name, and knows who likes beer and who drinks coffee" part of XO-ing. It wasn't that she didn't care about getting to know her crew as individuals. It just wasn't her strength -- keeping all of the nuts and bolts of the ship running and where they needed to be took most of an XO's time, or in her case, she spent a fair amount of time doing double duty as tactical advisor to her COs and filling in all of those blanks; she didn't know how the social ones managed to be the gossip hounds of their ships, too.
Still, the comfort zone with Aquarius brought her a nice degree of familiarity. The minutiae of paperwork was a steady drone that let her mercifully bury herself in work -- work that didn't even have her staring at fleet movements that were actually important in the case that she missed something in the "zoning" moments.
Finishing her review of the manifest and associated current issues with the crew (of which there were many, and few to which her predecessor had really attended), she started scanning through some of the restock requests that were coming in rapidly as they came in to Deep Space Three. She also looked through some of the completed requisitions from the previous few months to see the precedents on what sort of equipment Moretti had been approving... well. Precedent or no, Atton was not going to get another ion cannon.
Clearing through the requests and finishing her tea, Julia put aside the rest of the padds to go over before they reached Deep Space Three in the morning. Wrapping herself more snugly into her blanket and picking up a book to replace her padd, she smiled, if it was a little grim. It was good to be back, regardless of the circumstances. She'd missed the ship in spite of herself. Now she just hoped she could keep it held together without disaster -- or the Tzenkethi -- setting in.
Postby FSF Eris » Thu Aug 04, 2011 8:53 am
Julia lit the small, traditional lamp in the center of the miniature altar that she had just finished placing in her new quarters, and smiled. Finishing off another brief set of prayers, she stepped back to admire her handiwork. She had always created an altar to the gods of her family and house on each of her postings, even if her villa always maintained the massive -- and massively ornamented -- "official" lararium of the family. She sighed, frowning at the simplicity of the small rectangle of sandstone, bare without the statues of the happy, dancing gods that she had placed upon her altars for years. They were lost, along with the rest of the Atlas. The gods had not protected their home aboard that ship, she thought wistfully, and frowned. Too busy protecting her during her prideful foray into the Aquarius's camping expedition-cum-Tzenkethi raid, most likely.
Satisfied (for now) with her altar, she went over to the small couch in her quarters and took a seat, curling into a soft blanket as she reached for her tea, now cool from sitting too long during her divine and domestic pursuits. Julia sighed, picking up one of the padds in the stack left next to the cup -- she did not want anything to do with work at the moment, but then again, putting off the mundane was hardly going to get her anywhere.
It did not take her very long to go through the crew files. A good seventy-percent of the crew and nearly all of the higher ranking junior to senior officers had remained the same -- most of the losses were some sort of casualty of war, either literally casualties or the types who had gone into the Fleet without thinking through what might happen if giant cat-lizards started to rape the Federation's colony-worlds. Not that any of them had.
She had never been particularly good at the "knows every face, knows every name, and knows who likes beer and who drinks coffee" part of XO-ing. It wasn't that she didn't care about getting to know her crew as individuals. It just wasn't her strength -- keeping all of the nuts and bolts of the ship running and where they needed to be took most of an XO's time, or in her case, she spent a fair amount of time doing double duty as tactical advisor to her COs and filling in all of those blanks; she didn't know how the social ones managed to be the gossip hounds of their ships, too.
Still, the comfort zone with Aquarius brought her a nice degree of familiarity. The minutiae of paperwork was a steady drone that let her mercifully bury herself in work -- work that didn't even have her staring at fleet movements that were actually important in the case that she missed something in the "zoning" moments.
Finishing her review of the manifest and associated current issues with the crew (of which there were many, and few to which her predecessor had really attended), she started scanning through some of the restock requests that were coming in rapidly as they came in to Deep Space Three. She also looked through some of the completed requisitions from the previous few months to see the precedents on what sort of equipment Moretti had been approving... well. Precedent or no, Atton was not going to get another ion cannon.
Clearing through the requests and finishing her tea, Julia put aside the rest of the padds to go over before they reached Deep Space Three in the morning. Wrapping herself more snugly into her blanket and picking up a book to replace her padd, she smiled, if it was a little grim. It was good to be back, regardless of the circumstances. She'd missed the ship in spite of herself. Now she just hoped she could keep it held together without disaster -- or the Tzenkethi -- setting in.