What's In A Name?

Posted on Thu Jul 23rd, 2015 @ 10:27pm by Lieutenant Commander Alexander Gunning & Captain Julius Whitlam

Mission: First Strike
Location: Main Lounge [Deck 5]

The neatly appointed lounge of the USS Manoora nestled at the fore of the ship and took up a significant amount of compartment space on deck five. Without it, Lieutenant Commander Alec Gunning noted, they could probably have carried a few more metric tonnes of cargo with no problems at all.

Morale was just as important as supplies and without a decent place to drown ones' sorrows, people could descend into the madness that war so often brought. Still, he thought to himself, the potted plants were a bit much.

"This place needs a name." Ensign Keva Hyland, one of the Manoora's fresh-faced security officers blurted out during a muted drinking session. She and her cohort Ensign Gavin Alken, who were clearly sleeping together, had already mentioned separately that they couldn't stay long. It had raised a laugh in Gunning- one he hoped they hadn't picked up on. These kids were always sneaking around, knocking boots and trying to make sure that their superiors didn't cotton onto them. The more they did so, the more obvious they made it.

"What would you suggest, Keva?" Young Gavin asked, his eyes full of something much more primal than just interest.

The ensign took a long time to consider her answer. "Why don't you come back to us?" Gunning interjected, motioning toward the chronometer on the wall. "Don't you have that appointment with your personal trainer to get to?"

"Oh, yeah!" Hyland said as though she had forgotten. She had been looking at the chronometer on the other wall every thirty seconds for an hour. "I'll see you all later."

It was important for them to build up their morale, just as important as it was for them to train and be prepared, Gunning thought to himself as the bold Ensign Alken also excused himself. Something about seeing the doctor about his dodgy knee. Gunning noted that the affliction had switched knees during the course of the evening.

Then he was left alone, pondering the question himself. What would a better name for the lounge be? He was only roused from his reverie by a familiar voice.

Captain Julius Whitlam was standing over his chief of security with a pleasant expression on his weary face. "Mind if I join you, Commander?" he asked, gesturing to one of the vacant seats keeping Gunning company.

"By all means, Captain." He shook himself back into the room, having partially redecorated the lounge in his mind and smiled toward the empty chairs. "If you don't mind my friends here."

Whitlam smiled and sat down, placing his glass of iced tea on the table in the midst of all the empty chairs. "As long as they don't mind me," he said as he settled down. He glanced briefly at the lounge; this was the first time he had been in there. "Did they change this place much during the refit?"

"A fair bit actually. The bar used to be over there," he motioned to a blank section of wall. "Looks like they had something more of a pleasure cruise in mind with the redesign."

"A pleasure cruise would be nice," Whitlam said as he took his glass and brought it to his lips. Before taking a sip he said, "And what about the rest of the ship? The crew? How are you finding the changes?"

"It's a bit weird, sir. Y'know. If I'm honest." Alec looked around slowly, as though taking in the surroundings for the first time. "It's like going back to your old dormitory at the academy and finding that everything's slightly newer and everyone's as young as you thought you were until you walked in, if you know what I mean."

Whitlam nodded, "I know exactly what you mean," he said, leaning back in the chair and resting his drink on his knee. "Back in '68, my ship - the Fairfax - went in for what they called a minor refit. Five months later I got her back and they had completely remodelled some parts of the ship, including the bridge. New configuration, new carpet, new colour scheme on the bulkheads, the works. Most of the crew rotated out, too. I had a new senior staff to break in." He paused, a fond nostalgia brightening his face. "But she was still my ship under all that. She still saw us through some tough spots."

"Suppose you're right." Gunning thought on the issue of cosmetics for a moment. Much about the Manoora had changed since he had come aboard, not least her captain, but underneath it all this was still his home as much as anywhere he had ever lived. He just hoped that whatever they were going to face- if war was inevitable- wouldn't see his home destroyed. "The Manoora will see us through."

Gunning looked around himself again, thinking about the impish grins on the faces of his previous companions, the young ensigns, which were in such stark contrast to the steely expression of the captain who clearly had the weight of the world on his shoulders. "We were talking about what we'd name the lounge before, me and a couple of my ensigns." Anything to take the burden from his companion- even for a moment. "What would you call it?"

The captain considered that for a moment, looking around the bar for some spark of inspiration. His thoughts drifted back to his days on the Fairfax and he remembered fondly the good times he enjoyed in the lounge of that ship. It seemed like so long ago, and he felt like a vastly different person these days. "On the Fairfax the lounge was run by a Bolian named Chall. He called it the Sanctuary; a place for the crew to get away from the daily grind." He mulled that for a moment, thinking how this crew would need a place to get away from more than just the regular grind of starship duty. "Maybe something like The Bunker would be more appropriate to our current situation?"

Gunning chuckled. He thought back to a particularly problem filled away mission which had led to their away team cowering in a large, concrete structure left over from some long-forgotten war. "The Bunker's pretty apt actually."

Whitlam smiled and actually felt himself relax a little. "That settles that then," he said, settling into the soft cushion of the chair a little more. He took another sip of his iced tea and reflected on this brief moment of serenity. It felt like the troubles, the anxiety and the grave uncertainty of the last few days were light years away; problems for another place and another time. His mind would turn back to them at some point in the next few minutes, he knew. But until then, he would permit himself a moment of calm.

"So, tell me, Mister Gunning," he said, turning back to the second officer. "You've served aboard the Manoora for a while now. What else can you tell me about our ship?"

"Oh, sir." Gunning raised his eyes over the rim of his glass, giving his superior a knowing glance. "What I know about this ship would shock the devil himself..."

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Captain Julius Whitlam
Commanding Officer

Lieutenant Commander Alexander Gunning
Chief of Security