With the hiss of the door closing, marks this petty officer's permanent stay at this starbase. No longer will he get calls about some old part breaking again on a ship held together by hopes and dreams like the Ventura. This place was really unlike anything else he saw, including his civilian career. The sheer size of the starbase dwarfed anything else he docked at while contracting.
He walked forward, dropping his duffel bag of personal goods and other necessary items by the foot of his bed. He looked forward to meeting his fellow Ops crewmen he'd be working alongside- though of course protocol requires him to adhere to the duty roster and report to whatever officer will be in charge of his specific team he'll be assigned to. He walked to the replicator, saying
"Petty Officer Moskovo, Starbase 777 Enlisted uniform."
The machine hummed, confirming his voice and rank, as he picked up his requisitioned uniform and respective pips. He changed out of his familiar California uniform, and with his commbadge attached, he walked out of his quarters once more, intent on reporting for duty in the operations hub.
2
