[USS Vanguard] RPG: End of Term, End of Year

  • From: "andywoho@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx" <andywoho@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • To: ncv80221@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
  • Date: Thu, 30 Dec 2004 15:13:27 -0600

OoC: The following takes place immediately after Qbed and Highwaij's posts. 
Qbed stops the giant robot from killing the cadets, they are whisked off to the 
formal, per Qbed, and once again, they are returned to the Vanguard for the end 
of mission.

On another note, I would like to wish everyone a happy new year and to thank 
you all, once again, for sticking with us. Take a break--you deserve it! This 
weekend, I'll kick off the Tribbles mission.

Cadet Dominic Santos
Starfleet Academy
After all recent posts

As the mechanical behemoth drew down on them, Highwaij and Santos ducked, 
somewhat comically, into the portico of a nearby building. They had both 
endured enough survival and tactical training to know this was useless, but as 
cadets, their experiences were all classroom, no experience.

They wrapped their arms around their heads and prepared to die.

"I said, 'Stop!!'" the unseen young woman shouted again.

Santos squinted between his fingers and saw the speaker's back. Her hands were 
on her hips, her head tilted toward the giant robot. Santos couldn't be certain 
since he saw her only from behind, but she looked as if she could be another 
cadet. She was as young as they were. Amazingly enough, Santos looked down and 
was surprised by the box of spilled popcorn at her feet. Most unusual...

What was so unusual? he wondered, adjusting his formal dress uniform. The neck 
seemed so tight, and the small collection of medals and ribbons pinned to his 
chest seemed so inadequate for this occasion.

He knew he had been thinking about something--something important, maybe--but 
he lost his train of thought, like a word on the tip of his tongue.

"Nick?"

Santos looked up to see Aliyah-Amores Lopez-Fitzgerald seated next to him. 
Everyone, all his friends--Zena, Jaav, Cynan, Xristha, MJ, Kieran, Jazz, 
Highwaij, Sam, Shar, Ceelak, and even Mr. Kavan--were seated around a large 
table.

"Nick," Aliyah said again, "Earth to Nick. Come in...?"

Santos looked over and smiled at her.

The Academy Ballroom had been decorated in red, mustard and turquoise streamers 
as was traditional for the end-of-term formal. Cadets (and newly commissioned 
officers) mingled, laughed and danced to the orchestral music.

Santos hadn't noticed when Sam's date had sat down to join them, but she 
suddenly appeared, as if by magic. Santos lifted a glass to her, and she nodded 
back, an eyebrow raised in his direction.

Sam rose from his chair.

"Well, if no one else is going to dance, I'm not going to let perfectly good 
music go to waste." Sam bowed formally to his date and gallantly offered the 
crook of his elbow.

"Shall we?" he asked.

She smiled at him, and in that smile, Santos saw promise and laughter and for a 
moment, her smile seemed dazzling enough to light a thousand suns.

Sam's date rose and walked, arm-in-arm toward the dancefloor.

Santos looked into his glass as he sipped and when he looked up, Acting 
Executive Officer Zena asked him, "Nick? Earth to Nick? Are you all right? You 
look like you?re a thousand miles away."

Nick looked at Zena and for a moment, it didn't seem right that he was in the 
Tuscadero Dining Room, surrounded by the Vanguard's senior officers. And then 
suddenly, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

Captain Dominic Santos looked around the table at all the expectant faces. 
Outside the ship was more strange space; the Vanguard had again exited the Borg 
conduit to finish recalibrating the ship's temporal systems and to reattempt 
contact with Starfleet or, at the very least, let the ship's computers try to 
establish universal time. Chief Engineer Sam McCaw had called this exercise 
"rising to periscope depth."

The captain's formal dining room had been decorated by Des's staff for the 
crew's end-of-old-Earth-Calendar-year celebrations. Tonight was the traditional 
dinner hosted by the captain. Tomorrow would be the party given to the crew. 
Although the other traditions followed by their ancestors were no longer 
observed, some traditions, like end-of-year, died more slowly than others.

Tonight, even Des dined at the captain's table, as Santos rose to his feet and 
every eye in the room followed him.

"Thank you for your faith and courage. Here's to another year. Cheers!"

"Cheers!" they all repeated, raising their glasses.

[Mission end.]
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