The Fine Art of Arrival

Posted on Thu Oct 1st, 2026 @ 6:11am by Lieutenant Tavian Merkos

820 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: New Horizons

Many officers had their own little routines, or even quirks, when they reported to a new position. For many it was all about shaking the hand of the Captain, First Officer or Chief. For others, it was finding the quickest way to the lounge or place where you could be social and have a drink. Some enjoyed walking on a new ship as a stranger while others had already checked the manifest for familiar names and faces.

Lieutenant Tavian Merkos had his own rituals. It had started when he had arrived via shuttle. He had, in the space of five minutes, shown his transfer orders and gotten his considerable luggage transported to his quarters. Then, he had enquired about the Captain, a certain Alistar McKeon, only to find that they would be available the following day. Which would be the day before launch and…oh. That did leave Tavian with more freedom than most newly transferred Chiefs could handle. Ah, but that was fine.

He bid adieu to the Operations officer who would soon be serving under him and made his way to his quarters. The Helvetia was a fine ship, an Intrepid II class with that new ship smell that made the Operations officer in Tavian wonder if they had done a system stress test. He took in the fine lines of the ship as he walked quite leisurely, hands behind his back and a small, almost pleased smile on his face as he watched people hurry past, on their way to their various stations. Launch day was one of those things that either could have all the pomp and ceremony of a state affair…or the quietness of a lover slipping out the bedroom window to avoid the relatives of their fancy.

The efficiency of technology meant that the doors opened the moment they recognised his combadge and he walked in, seeing his bags neatly materialised in the middle of the room. It was a decently sized room, not too shabby at all. He removed his jacket and hung it over a chair before he walked to the sofa. He studied it for a moment before he started to rearrange the furniture to his liking. It did take some time, to move the sofa, the chairs, the coffee table…to push a shelving unit to the corner where it would be more secure in case of any loss of inertial dampeners. He stopped and surveyed the changed layout, a touch of sweat on his brow. He sighed and found a handkerchief to dab, shaking his head with annoyance at it. A little bit more physical activity than he had first expected but nothing was perfect. But it did not mean he couldn’t strive for it.

Satisfied, he then he started opening the bags and containers of his belongings. The first one contained the comforts that helped shape a home. Oh, nothing too extravagant. Cushions with a dark purple fabric found themselves on the sofa with the thin, soft blanket in a matching hue. A vase he had picked up on Vulcan followed, with Risian art and some things from home. Each got arranged to his liking before he replicated some flowers to put in the vase.

The other bag opened contained clothing. Not the uniform, because his uniforms had their own bag, but the off duty clothes. A robe of heavy velvet and silks, comfortable leggings, some tunics, and trousers and jackets. All with rich fabrics that he could enjoy, collars that suited his neck and even some laced cuffs. Boots followed as well. Some taller, some just comfortable shoes, and slippers. He had never enjoyed wearing shoes inside his bedroom.

Then came the books. Books and ornaments and more importantly his rapier. He stopped and looked at the case, then made a mental note that he would indeed inform Security about this weapon in his possession. He made the mental note even as he carefully put the box away, fingers lingering on the smooth case of it.

After all of that, plus the scents and creams and even teas and coffees had been put away, he opened the last bag. Out came the dress uniform, pressed and yes, admittedly somewhat tailored within an inch of regulation to look as good as it could. He watched it for a moment before he hung it up with a small, pleased smile. It had always mattered to him. The pomp and pageantry, the ceremonies that would make others roll their eyes always made Tavian smile. Some things were meant to be enjoyed.

He sighed softly as he sat down, finally done, one leg over the other and eased back with a pleased smile. Yes, he had only been on the USS Helvetia for a few hours now. But this? This was indeed starting to look like his quarters. And he was quite pleased with that.

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