Voice of Silence

Posted on 06/24/2020 @ 11:19pm by
Edited on 06/24/2020 @ 11:20pm

Kieran hated waiting alone — especially for long periods of time. His discomfort held a tendency for escalating by the hour when forced into solitude. Traveling between posts only reinforced that; he’d been aboard his fair share of civilian ships. To their credit, many were beautiful. The current one was no exception, however a problem did lurk inside the fact he never had a job aboard. Mingling was his only source of relief, which in itself wasn’t so bad, had it not been for the fact this liner was full of impatient citizens. He couldn’t blame them, had he been able to enjoy their destination with them. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be the case.

He was beholden to DeVala for her parting gift, not long before she left for the Galactic South. It had come unanticipated, but well placed, serving as a dependable source of relief to his crippling separation anxiety. Contrary to what others believed as a lack of patience however, he was merely an eager, if not social person. Meeting others came naturally. Keeping to them was entirely reliant on them. His ‘charming’ personality hadn’t gone over well with the last bunch, and he was only too-thankful for retiring back to his cabin. Sir Sherlock hadn’t been judgemental, but then again he couldn’t recall any puppy that was. Not if you gave them all the love and attention they could possibly want, atop what they needed to live. It was just the form of bond he needed in an otherwise ironically isolated place.

The bloke had no desire to bypass the journey, instead being a soul which lavished the moments during it. As of recent…the problem was getting there, not unlike what the passengers regularly complained about. He spared the others his own avidity. Certainly, he’d been reafirmed by the crew to enjoy his time aboard. Relax. Savour the plentiful amenities to keep himself pampered throught flight. Exactly one reason he struggled with the environment in the first place.

For the most of his career, Kieran had not spent much time aboard starships. Bases, yes. Colonies, most definitely. Save for transitioning between locales however? Not so much. Relax. It wasn’t a word frequently opted for in his vocabulary when aimed towards himself. Against others, yes, he would begrudgingly admit that. Casual pastimes spent in solitude however were not his cup of tea. Not unless one counted reading the occasional novel.

By whatever fair grace of Andor however, the Palais du Concord had not missed any opportunities. When he was told the next flight out would be his, the lieutenant had not been expecting said passage within a few days of notice. Thankful as he was, Kieran had grown accustomed to the pace of diplomacy. Which was to say…glacial, more often than not. He’d been waiting for his next assignment for several months. Relax, they said. Even his brief roommate on Earth, who was who the stars knew where now.

Now he was only thankful ample opportunity existed to mingle with others in the gathering pools aboard the Osaari. Add the fact he was permitted to bring his companion with him, which Sherlock relished the chance, and it had been his sole lifeline. He’d expected to be shipped aboard a courier, or maybe a patrol vessel heading out to the Western Frontier. Insetad, of all choices he’d been placed on a Fjal-class. A space liner. His gratitude was not showing. Others probably would have been, no doubt licking at the precious chance for rest and recuperation.

He’d be lying however if he mentioned he hadn’t taken part in any of the engagements on the ship. Parties weren’t the place for a new ‘dog dad’, but short of celebrating a negotiation gone right, or an opening gala? He was there. Ashara had dragged him along to many, knowing it was just the environment he thrived in. The Osaari was different though. No commemorations, unless you considered holiday one. Energising, yes. Fulfilling…questionable. Still, there was no point in denying his gregarious nature. But it couldn’t beat down the surmounting anticipation of what to expect in a new home. A Luna-class.

The Crazy Horse would be his first long-term stay aboard a starship. Throw in the bundle of a promotion as a department head? Most other offers fell short. The nearest had been an escort aboard Federation One. Serving on the Federation’s state ship for the president? It would have been something. He’d been aboard it before a number of times with his mentor, but it wasn’t the same as accompanying an amassador. Nor would he be captain of the guard. It was a step down. On the Crazy Horse, Kieran would be on his own in a manner of speaking. Free to lead a group of people and no longer shadowing a more experienced diplomat other than the captain themself.

Kieran had read up on Commander D’Anvers. Several times, after a few long nights thumbing into the dossiers of the man. His accomplishments were intriguing, partly eclipsing that of some of the others on the manifest. Documents however, never spoke as loudly as experiencing something yourself, nor did words always grant someone access. The commander, however, was an interesting thought if nothing else. Barely over twelve years exceeding his own age, yet having relatable similarities in their past. What he could access of the dossier was enlightening, if not hopeful. The marine now wondered however if anyone else on the crew would share that enthusiasm.