Office With A View

Posted on Sun Nov 11th, 2018 @ 1:45am by Commander Rita Paris

Mission: Escaped Pantheons
Location: USS Hera, Deck 2, First Officer's Office
Timeline: 2395

On the lengthy list of 'things Rita Paris was getting to', looking into her new office had thus far been remarkably low on that priority list.

While the official manifest had listed the office of the executive officer on Deck 1, opposite the Captain's Ready Room, Captain Telvan had indicated to her recently promoted first officer that in point of fact, her office was on Deck 2. Having ceded the Deck 4 Flight Control office to the new Chief Flight Control Officer, Lieutenant Commander Rita Paris now found herself needing somewhere to sit down in peace and get some work done.

Of course, she could just work out of her expansive quarters- after all, even with both she and Sonak cohabiting in them, they were still so large that she had a home office set up, and would have set up a lab as well had not her logical mate stopped her by pointing out that it was both against regulations and unsafe.

Instead, she would need somewhere for senior staff and junior officers to seek her out, to discuss issues in private, and to get some work done away from the Bridge. While so very much had changed in the thirteen decades she had missed, Starfleet's paperwork really hadn't changed all that much, there was just a little more of it. A few weeks of working on it had established patterns for her, and now the retro throwback officer was casually confident about keeping the mighty starship running smoothly for her captain. When she had been second officer of the Exeter it had been her job, as overseen by Sonak as first officer; he had given her more responsibility and taught her how to do the First Officer's job, just as she had requested. Which came in handy now that she was first, and though out of time, she could still do the job handily.

Another thing to add to the list for her to thank her logical mate. Which brought a smile to her face... Sonak was a one of a kind, and few and far between were the senior officers who would devote the time and energy to training their subordinates to do the jobs of their superiors, without ego or pride getting in the way. Yet here they both were, in the far-flung future, and she was prepared for the position in which she found herself all because he had been such a patient and willing teacher. Sighing cheerfully at the thought of her remarkable grey-eyed spouse, she stood outside the door to her new office, tapping in her access code to unlock the door and see what lay beyond.

The second deck of a starship was, by tradition, not very large. After all, the first few decks were always smaller on the saucer sections of Starfleet starships- that hadn't changed. But given that the sheer size of the starships had increased so drastically, there was just a huge amount of space available all over the ship. So when she had been assigning junior officer's quarters on Deck 2, Rita had been surprised at how roomy they had been- easily twice the size of her old quarters on a Constitution class starship, if not three times. Which did not quite prepare her for the sight that awaited her as the door whooshed open.

The open space was well lit, of course- unless otherwise requested, the entirety of the Hera remained well lit when hatches were opened. Deep blue carpeting created an accent to white bulkheads and overhead, with a desk that was surprisingly about the size of the table she used to use for a desk back on the USS Exeter, where she had taken over a conference room on Deck 3 to use as her office. But what really caught her eye was the spectacular forward view of the Hera.

Stepping into the office and making her way around the desk to the wide viewport, the dark pearlescent hull was visible, spreading out and down, even as in the distance she could see the call letters illuminated. It was one of the few places in which the Hera was externally lit, as she was rigged for stealth and low visibility. But to have a smaller version of the main viewscreen's vista available to her in her office made the sailor of the stars smile broadly as her fingers lightly caressed the transparent aluminum.

"Hell of a view," she muttered to herself, taking in the empty office. Bringing up her omnipresent PaDD, Rita began filling out the requisition forms to recycle the desk that was already here, and the chair wasn't much to her liking, either. She suspected it was a leftover from her predecessor, who had considerably different anatomical needs than she did. Instead, the odd triangular conference table from her old office was still on file in the archives, and she requested that be installed as her desk. Some cabinet units underneath the desk would give her storage, and as she considered placement, she decided that her desk would be located on the port side of the office. Rita had no use for the grand vista behind her to impress her subordinates and create an aura of command. Instead, she would prefer to be able to look over and take in the sight herself, as would those sitting opposite her.

The bare walls made her sigh, as she considered just what to do there. A portrait of the classic USS Constitution, NCC 1700 would definitely have to go on the walls, as well as an image of the USS Exeter refit, which, while not the configuration of her old posting, was close enough for this timeline, and would still represent memories of days gone by. An image of the Hera would be nice as well, she reasoned- after all, if she was decorating the walls with the loves of her past, she could do just the same with the starship that currently held her heart. Looking around, she realized that she wanted a photo of the senior staff for her office, and resolved that she'd have to get a print made of the image she'd forced everyone to pose for during the debriefing.

"Sentimental to a fault, Rita," she muttered to herself. But then, the places she had been and the people she had known were vastly important to her. In almost every case those memories were all that she had left of them, and having reminders of them in eyesight were mementos, touchstones to the past which made her who she was today. Scrolling through some options, she found the familiar image of Admiral Archer that had graced the walls of her spaces since she'd received it from him when she was a child. This one would not be autographed to her, of course, but it would always remind her of the kindly old admiral who had not laughed at the young girl who, at the age of eight years old, had plainly stated her ambition to someday command a starship.

Bringing up an image of a dashing young James T. Kirk, clad in command gold and holding his chin as he sat in his command chair on the bridge of the Enterprise looking supremely smug, she chuckled. Classmates at the Academy, they had never been close, but she'd known the man, and owed him for helping her graduate. This Jim Kirk was a different fellow, but those eyes and that smile were the ones she remembered, and given that he was one of the most famous historical personages of her age, she may as well hang him on the wall as well. Then she sought out an image of Ambassador Spock, and added him to the list. After all, without him, Sonak would never have managed to find her again, and she owed the old Vulcan as much of a debt as Kirk.

A viewscreen would be needed, she reasoned, and she could use it to display a map of the known universe according to the modern day. After all, she didn't want all of her decor to be echoes of the past. The present and the future were just as important. That would go on the wall opposite her desk, she reasoned, so that she could see and use it even as she illustrated points to others in briefings.

Chairs. She would need a few chairs, and given how often she had ended up on the couch in the captain's ready room, a couch was not outside the realm of possibility. Selecting a few modern chairs for the other side of the desk that looked comfortable, for herself she chose one of the antiquated formed plastic chairs of her era. After all, she had spent literally years of her life with her rounded rear in one of those chairs, and while the modern equivalents were far more ergonomic and comfortable, it was familiar to her, thus comforting.

Shelves. Behind her desk, she wanted some shelves- someday she might get some books, or models or perhaps she would finally make good on her threat to start producing the Rita Paris Action Figure line. That thought made her giggle as she stepped out into the hallway to enter the requisition. After all, if the quartermaster was going to beam out her old furniture and beam in the new items, Rita was not about to be anywhere near. Strolling to the aft, she listened for the hum of the cargo transporters and felt the hairs on her forearm rise in goosebumps as it happened. While the transporter might or might not be out to get her any more, she was still taking no chances.

When she was sure the coast was clear again, the sentimental starship siren entered her renovated office, more content with the configuration and arrangement now. Nodding with satisfaction, she stepped behind her desk and lowered herself into the chair, familiar and comforting to her as the odd triangular conference table. As she breathed in, then sighed contentedly, the extradimensional explorer set about bringing up her many looks through the years.

Ensign Rita, in her 2256 red minidress when she was relegated to being a communications officer, perched in her seat with the receiver stuck in her ear. Lieutenant Rita, in her gold minidress, complete with vintage tricorder and phaser. That in turn caused her to bring up a Sonak bearing a tricorder, in his traditional blue tunic and black pants and boots. Not very dissimilar to his modern uniform, but still something she would place next to herself were she creating a diorama of the period. Which she appeared to be doing just that. Ghost Rita in translucent blue plastic, trying to work a solid engineering panel. Wreck-It Rita, in her Sergeant Calhoun armour and BFG. Gold Armoured Planetary Liberation Rita with her TRC-116C2 in hand. Lieutenant Commander Rita in the big chair on the bridge of the Hera.

Idly, she brought up a version of herself in one of those new proposed uniforms, and put herself in one of the red minidresses with the black skirt, and no ribbons on her sleeve, just pips on her collar.

"Maybe..." she muttered to herself as she sent the commands to the replicator, then began removing them as the replicator fabricated the poseable action figures, one after another. Eventually she stood, eyeing the blonde in the red uniform, noticing that the computer had made a mistake, and given the proposed new uniform three pips instead of two and a half. Glancing up at the overhead, Rita Paris smirked. "Trying to tell me something...?"

The USS Hera did not answer. But then, it hadn't been a formal question, either...