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[CD] Correspondence

Posted on Mon Jun 29th, 2020 @ 3:46pm by Ensign Brittany Carver

Mission: Interlude 4
Location: Carver's Quarters, USS Firebird
Timeline: March 18 2395, 20:00 hours

"Not that sticker, not that one," Brittany spoke to herself, perched in front of the console back at her quarters. Surrounded by a fluffy, glittery, pastel ring of bits and pops, colored tape, and other completely unnecessary doo-dads strategeically strewn upon the surface of her desk, she searched for just the /right/ piece of holographic sparkle for the piece of paper in front of her. She'd written upon it in the carefree, curly-q'ed hand she learned back in primary school--a letter addressed at the top (in giant bubble letters) to Emily. After all, she over anyone else had made the effort to get to know her--and even if the little girl was a bit on the messy side, it gave Brittany a chance to do something different than clock shift after shift in a space bound metal tube hurtling through explosion after kidnapping after tragic disaster.

"Aha," she whispered, sighting a flat purple unicorn sticker with a fuzzy mane . She pressed it onto the paper with gusto, both of her index fingers sealing the edge satisfyingly against the smoothness of the letter. It was quite the trick to convince the replicator to fabricate a suitable gel pen. The poor machine had likely been put through its paces trying to recreate writing tools used by schoolchildren. But thanks to the recent invention of a cheap always-sticky polymer, stickers were at least new enough to remain in the local memory of the ship's replicator. The polymer was a curious substance, really--one that kept its stickiness enough to stay in the back of Carver's mind. Surely there had to be an application of such a material to meet some un-thought-of need on a starship. She held up the finished letter to the light in a proud manner, evaluating it against her internal sense of style for the balance of text and color, meaning and frivolity, balance and form against the ever present threat of thoughtless composition.

She read the letter aloud to Herbert just for sure, swiveling in her chair to face his tiny cage. "Dear Emily. I received the rubber spider you had sent in your last envelope. I don't think Rhiana noticed it on her chair yesterday. She either sat on it or threw it in the incineration bin. While we knew this may have been an outcome of our plan last week, I still send my apologies. Will you be at Tae Kwon Do on Friday? I can bring the sculpture of a donut that I'm working on. It's not done yet. Did you finish off that entire box of candies from the station yet? I have some ideas. See you later, Brittany. P.S. - do not order the new kind of cheese for lunch. It's still weird."

Herbert did not appear to have an opinion about the letter and resumed scratching his teeth against the rock of salt inside of his habitat.

Finding it satisfactory, Brittany nodded once, firmly, and laid the letter back upon the table, folded it carefully into thirds, and slipped it inside the matching pastel envelope she had prepared previous. Sealing it, she rose to place the letter in her uniform jacket, hung by the door, so she would remember to deliver it to one of the pre-arranged hiding places she and Emily had agreed upon, in the morning. Heaving a dramatic sigh, she returned to her desk. "That finishes the procrastinating, I guess. Time for Mom's...."

This time, she didn't need sparkles or glue or a fuzzy pen. Brittany pulled a PADD to her hands and set it to dictate a message. She was more comfortable with speaking with her mother this way lately. If she spoke to her or used a recorded message, Mom would worry. "Hi...mom," she breathed, nervous, swiping her bangs back over her ear. "I'm well. I'm more on the move from before. Starfleet in a ship is /completely/ different than
Starfleet on a station," she said, somewhat exasperated. "There is no time and yet there is all the time at once. We're still in the Alpha Quadrant at least, but of course, I have little of what idea is going on. No one...really talks to me, I guess. Most of the officers are older than me and have a bunch more experience..."she adds, an uncertain, almost sad tone forming in her voice. Don't cry, idiot, she thought to herself. "But I'm used to that, so don't worry OK? You remember what it was like at boarding school. It's like that again. I'll just focus on my work and come out on top, like I did then. The command staff here is nice, but I don't see them too much as the head of security usually serves as our liaison in security matters. So it's not too bad. Thanks for sending the sweater, it's nice at night. They let me keep my room at the temperature I want, but having the sweater is comfier. Please tell Dad that I miss the both of you. Love, Brittany."

She mashed the 'Send' button on the padd before she could change her mind or second guess what she'd written. The computer chirped in confirmation.

Sniffing in air deep through her nose, Brittany let it out again and stalked off to the shower before bed. At least if she cried in there, it wouldn't be as embarassing. Herbert couldn't see it.

 

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