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Jim slipped out of the party raging on lower decks and went up towards the bridge. He greeted the beta crew, speaking briefly with the helm about their course and destination. With the information in mind, Jim went into his office and let the door lock behind him.
He sat down slowly at his desk and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling blankly. He felt about a million years older than he had a year ago, even though he was only twenty-six. There was so much going on, so much changing so rapidly that he needed just a little while to get his metaphorical feet back under him with some quiet time.
That didn't explain the odd feeling in the back of his head. It was very faint, something that without really thinking about it he tended to ignore. Yet... he realized it was there, in the few silent moments of his day. A tugging, an urging.
Jim turned in his chair and pulled up their current course. They were just about to New Vulcan. They'd arrive there at night by Vulcan standards, and in the morning they would be heading down for the first time. He wondered how long it would be before the trial would begin, if Starfleet had better arrangements for Nero and Ayel than being on the Enterprise as they were scheduled for a near over-haul on some things like crew assignments.
It meant every last person would be clearing out of the Enterprise so that repairs, cleaning, and other small things that could only be done in a mass way when they were docked somewhere safely like this. Jim knew that they had managed to build a small, still in progress space dock above the planet and that was their destination. The Enterprise would be cleaned top to bottom, every last thing repaired and double checked. After this, Jim was fairly sure, they would be starting their first five year mission. A little late, maybe, but... it was exciting in a way. A Captain's career could be defined in just one of those five year missions.
His reports to Starfleet were ready to go, typed up and waiting. Things of every nature... the time he had dealt with the Klingons that had ended with the Farragut's destruction (typed directly after the attack and a secondary done recently), the time of his and his father's capture, every last other universe-person that had been aboard the ship (attached along with Ephram's reports), the transporter problems (fixed now, hopefully double checked with the dock repairs)...
He still wondered about how the Vulcans would treat him and his crew. He had said the same thing to Jim, about how he worried that deep inside they would resent the Enterprise for not being able to save their home world. By all reports, despite the major loss of most of their people, the Vulcans seemed to be doing very well for themselves. Medical reports were flowing from the new Vulcan colony, when they needed more healers and doctors than they had for themselves. Builders from outside worlds, people staying to help with every kind of building and had decided to stay...
Jim rubbed his brow. He worried about his crew, and how they would hold up with the changes and trials of every sort that were coming up.
"...Captain's log stardate..."
He sat down slowly at his desk and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling blankly. He felt about a million years older than he had a year ago, even though he was only twenty-six. There was so much going on, so much changing so rapidly that he needed just a little while to get his metaphorical feet back under him with some quiet time.
That didn't explain the odd feeling in the back of his head. It was very faint, something that without really thinking about it he tended to ignore. Yet... he realized it was there, in the few silent moments of his day. A tugging, an urging.
Jim turned in his chair and pulled up their current course. They were just about to New Vulcan. They'd arrive there at night by Vulcan standards, and in the morning they would be heading down for the first time. He wondered how long it would be before the trial would begin, if Starfleet had better arrangements for Nero and Ayel than being on the Enterprise as they were scheduled for a near over-haul on some things like crew assignments.
It meant every last person would be clearing out of the Enterprise so that repairs, cleaning, and other small things that could only be done in a mass way when they were docked somewhere safely like this. Jim knew that they had managed to build a small, still in progress space dock above the planet and that was their destination. The Enterprise would be cleaned top to bottom, every last thing repaired and double checked. After this, Jim was fairly sure, they would be starting their first five year mission. A little late, maybe, but... it was exciting in a way. A Captain's career could be defined in just one of those five year missions.
His reports to Starfleet were ready to go, typed up and waiting. Things of every nature... the time he had dealt with the Klingons that had ended with the Farragut's destruction (typed directly after the attack and a secondary done recently), the time of his and his father's capture, every last other universe-person that had been aboard the ship (attached along with Ephram's reports), the transporter problems (fixed now, hopefully double checked with the dock repairs)...
He still wondered about how the Vulcans would treat him and his crew. He had said the same thing to Jim, about how he worried that deep inside they would resent the Enterprise for not being able to save their home world. By all reports, despite the major loss of most of their people, the Vulcans seemed to be doing very well for themselves. Medical reports were flowing from the new Vulcan colony, when they needed more healers and doctors than they had for themselves. Builders from outside worlds, people staying to help with every kind of building and had decided to stay...
Jim rubbed his brow. He worried about his crew, and how they would hold up with the changes and trials of every sort that were coming up.
"...Captain's log stardate..."