She can’t help but be impressed by the counselor’s poise, and her clear attempts to make the best of what she, herself, no-doubt considers a difficult situation. Azami has been dealing with the multiple bunkmates for her entire life in Starfleet – it can, of course, become difficult at times, and she appreciates the understanding. But it’s part and parcel of where Azami works, and one of the challenges she has accepted as part of her lot in life.
One of several.
About to speak in reply, she cuts herself off when T’Lara locates her quarters. Across from the arboretum? She had not been aware that the ship carried such a feature. But then, Azami considers, she has never served on a ship nearly this size.
Deck six? Of how many? “A lucky placement,” she admits.
“I expect I will spend some of my time off enjoying the neighbourhood.” So to speak; truth be told, though, she finds herself relieved at the idea of a greenspace so close and available. Probably crowded, of course; with over two hundred crew members aboard, even if the novelty wears off there will always be visitors. No privacy there, either. Not so important, Azami decides; her spare time is likely to be taken up by light duty and volunteer work, in any case.
There is always room for volunteer work.
And they’re away, heading toward the room itself, skipping the turbolift as unnecessary. Azami uses this short walk to study the corridor. Spacious, open, clean and bright, with crew visible moving in the distance. Always daytime aboard a vessel, she reminds herself, and always people awake: carrying out tasks, taking their leisure, filling their bellies. This is, in essence, a floating community that never truly sleeps, a drifting town in the middle of an icy, barren sea. Sometimes it chills her, the void only a stone’s throw away; born and raised planetside, the petty officer wonders if she will ever become fully accustomed to her proximity to lethal emptiness.
Questions float her way, delivered in T’Lara’s warm tones.
“Starbase 73, ma’am,” she replies to the first,
“close to the centre of Federation space. It was a quiet posting.” ‘Safe and bustling’ might describe the aging Starbase, a port mostly for civilians and trade. It had not been the best possible place for Azami, for a variety of reasons, and she had kept mostly to herself. That had proven advantageous; no metaphorical strings to snip when she had received her new orders.
“I had received orders to transfer to this Starbase,” she admits,
“but while en route, I received a message that the destination had changed to this vessel.” That trails off almost into a question.
“There was a need; I was already on the way, but not yet attached to the Starbase administration,” she concludes.
Possibly some of the notes in her file helped with that decision.
That second question, though…while she has covered the potential reason for her arrive aboard the
Independence, Azami knows the other woman is searching for
motivation, which would include her original reason for leaving Starbase 73.
”The decision to transfer me to this Starbase, however, was not my own, nor did I request such,” she clarifies, voice still mild and even.
”Starbase 73 met my needs, but I go where the Federation requires, ma’am.” It occurs to her that T’Lara might take that as some form of oblique criticism or disappointment regarding the current posting; best to correct that before the idea sinks in roots.
”I am, of course, happy to serve here as well, and will endeavor to do my best.”
Her gaze flickers to the other woman’s face for an instant; there, then away like darting dragonfly, continuing its unfocused roving about the corridor.
“And yourself, ma’am? If I might ask, did you request your position on this ship, or were you assigned?”
This message was last edited by the player at 14:29, Mon 21 June 2021.
