A Little Glow in the Dark

Posted on Sat Aug 10th, 2019 @ 8:26pm by
Edited on on Sun Aug 25th, 2019 @ 8:17am

Mission: For Whom The Bell Tolls
Location: Cassie's Quarters
Timeline: MD04, 1900
599 words - 1.2 OF Standard Post Measure

"Computer, please play the past year's Klingon metal releases," Cassie instructed as she looked in dismay at the multiple crates lining the walls of her quarters. She knew her new lodging would be much more sparse than her apartment in Paris, but she had gotten this position on such short notice, she hadn't had the chance to sort everything out.

She sighed. Now was the time to sort everything out. Otherwise, she'd never get it done. And if the situation demanded it, she'd rather not have to look for a certain ballgown or suit for three hours. It was probably good thing, she reminded herself, that every crate was labelled according to its contents.

She closed her eyes, getting into the flow of the music, bobbing her head to the beat of the drums. She knew it was finally time when a singer growled the first few vocals of the song.

She opened the first crate labelled "work clothes", which consisted mostly of pants and matching blazers. She hanged them neatly in the closet, in order of colour. White to black, with every colour in between, in a glorious rainbow gradient. She gave a satisfied smile when the first crate was emptied out and its contents in its rightful place. She did the same with next few crates with the same label.

Next came the evening wear. Evening gowns, all in different colours, and different shapes, all treated for wrinkles and vacuum-sealed in individual boxes. She probably had enough to clothe all the female senior officers, should they wish to wear one. She'd be happy to loan, or even gift one or five.

She carefully placed these in the back of that same closet, almost out of view. Pairs of shoes went into organizer compartments. Casual clothing was placed in drawers. In all in all, she had so far marked ten crates, some of which half full of stuff to be disposed of, for reclamation. Ops would know how to get rid of them safely.

She sat on the floor to take a breath, looking around her to evaluate the progress: not too shabby. A small container on the table caught her attention. She stood to take a closer look at it; it was simply labelled "Cassie". Intrigued, she clicked open the container, which contained a small phosporescent plant placed in stasis, and a handwritten note in an envelope.

"Cassie,

I know you loved to help me take care of the plants whenever you visited. Here's this little one to take care of and make your new environment less sterile.

Love, Madeline xoxo"

The young diplomat smiled, touched by the unexpected gesture, then burst into tears. She had been gone for less then two weeks, and she already missed Paris, her people, the office. Aside from the farewell party the evening before her departure, she hadn't had enough time to speak to everybody. The few people she had been able to reach during her trip to the Majestic was via videoconferencing, which admittedly was never the same.

Cassie sniffed and wiped the tears on her cheeks, and instructed the computer to remind her to contact her dear friend. She also instructed it to remind her to take the plant to arboretum so it could get the best possible care.

She looked at the rest of the containers strewn on the floor. Most contained books, pictures, souvenirs from places she'd been over the years. With a resigned sigh, she placed some on the table and opened them.

Eventually, everything had a place, and everything was in its place.