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current_story:the_reservists [2024/01/19 04:13] – cromwellcurrent_story:the_reservists [2026/03/30 02:05] (current) – site_admin
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 "The hell you are," Leon informed him.  "Too much is going on right now to have you sit on the sidelines.  To quote someone who gave me similar advice long ago: too many are alive today because you were in the right place at the right time.  We need you in the here and now... Holding the line against corruption, murder, and genocide.  As of now, your MIA status is hereby revoked and you're medically cleared for active duty." "The hell you are," Leon informed him.  "Too much is going on right now to have you sit on the sidelines.  To quote someone who gave me similar advice long ago: too many are alive today because you were in the right place at the right time.  We need you in the here and now... Holding the line against corruption, murder, and genocide.  As of now, your MIA status is hereby revoked and you're medically cleared for active duty."
  
-"Nice try," John scoffed.  "But only a captain with support of their chief medical officer can do that..."+"Nice try," John scoffed.  "But only a medical officer with support of their captain can do that..."
  
 "And I'm both," Leon interrupted him, though John had already realized it after he spoke.  "You never left Starfleet of your own accord, therefore, you're still on the clock.  Further, I won't have ANY active duty officer on this ship out of uniform.  So get with it, mister!" "And I'm both," Leon interrupted him, though John had already realized it after he spoke.  "You never left Starfleet of your own accord, therefore, you're still on the clock.  Further, I won't have ANY active duty officer on this ship out of uniform.  So get with it, mister!"
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 John was back.  At least physically.  Truth be told, after exiting sickbay with Leon, who dragged him on an impromptu tour of the new Luna Class Republic, John was overwhelmed by the constant spotlight as he walked through the corridors.  A large number of the ship's crew had served under him on the original Galaxy Class Republic before the Remnant attacks, and although he was not present during the christening and commissioning of this vessel, the crew he encountered were smiling and shaking his hand, many of them in disbelief of his sudden arrival. John was back.  At least physically.  Truth be told, after exiting sickbay with Leon, who dragged him on an impromptu tour of the new Luna Class Republic, John was overwhelmed by the constant spotlight as he walked through the corridors.  A large number of the ship's crew had served under him on the original Galaxy Class Republic before the Remnant attacks, and although he was not present during the christening and commissioning of this vessel, the crew he encountered were smiling and shaking his hand, many of them in disbelief of his sudden arrival.
  
-"Welcome back, Carter!" he heard everywhere he went, followed by a chorus of "Welcome back... welcome back... welcome back" each time Leon introduced him to a new group of people.  Throughout the tour, John explained to Leon what had happened to him in the intervening years; the shuttle accident, the crash, the befriending of the Garsolans, not to mention the fliers, the attacks, and the counterattacks using a single antiquated hand phaser.  He explained to his friend how he had given up on ever returning to the Alpha Quadrant until a few days ago when -- out of nowhere -- Forrest and Yezbeck show up with team of intelligence operatives and a Galaxy Class starship with the name "Republic" on the hull: a re-christened vessel known as the USS Asgard in a former life, and held by Kostya assets in the Gamma Quadrant until Forrest managed to liberate it before coming to find him.  It was a fantastic story that Leon ate up with every word, until he realized that John was becoming fatigued, finally leading him away to an unassigned officer's quarters for a shower and brief respite before a late evening briefing on the observation deck.+"Welcome back, Carter!" he heard everywhere he went, followed by a chorus of "welcome back... welcome back... welcome back" each time Leon introduced him to a new group of people.  Throughout the tour, John explained to Leon what had happened to him in the intervening years; the shuttle accident, the crash, the befriending of the Garsolans, not to mention the fliers, the attacks, and the counterattacks using a single antiquated hand phaser.  He explained to his friend how he had given up on ever returning to the Alpha Quadrant until a few days ago when -- out of nowhere -- Forrest and Yezbeck show up with team of intelligence operatives and a Galaxy Class starship with the name "Republic" on the hull: a re-christened vessel known as the USS Asgard in a former life, and held by Kostya assets in the Gamma Quadrant until Forrest managed to liberate it before coming to find him.  It was a fantastic story that Leon ate up with every word, until he realized that John was becoming fatigued, finally leading him away to an unassigned officer's quarters for a shower and brief respite before a late evening briefing on the observation deck.
  
 For the first time in over two years, John Carter felt like he was clean again, and it was disconcerting.  He had grown so accustom to his austere desert surroundings on Garsol that he had forgotten what it was like to maintain personal grooming in a technologically advanced society.  While a sharp knife, bowl of spice water, and Dadjinn's nimble fingers allowed for a modicum of ablution, a sonic shower and holosuite-generated coiffeur made short work of his long braided tresses, not to mention trimming short his ragged beard back to within Starfleet nautical regulations.  Replacing his drab, frayed, and dirt-laden uniform of yesteryear was the clean and recently-replicated command red tunic with a black over-jacket and gray ribbed shoulder padding.  Seated at the front of the conference table, John -- as the honored guest -- was looking down at his folded hands, eyepatch notwithstanding, seemingly detached from the conversation.  As the highest ranking officer around the table, he listened to the information that each of the other officers voiced, yet only one thought repeated in his mind: For the first time in over two years, John Carter felt like he was clean again, and it was disconcerting.  He had grown so accustom to his austere desert surroundings on Garsol that he had forgotten what it was like to maintain personal grooming in a technologically advanced society.  While a sharp knife, bowl of spice water, and Dadjinn's nimble fingers allowed for a modicum of ablution, a sonic shower and holosuite-generated coiffeur made short work of his long braided tresses, not to mention trimming short his ragged beard back to within Starfleet nautical regulations.  Replacing his drab, frayed, and dirt-laden uniform of yesteryear was the clean and recently-replicated command red tunic with a black over-jacket and gray ribbed shoulder padding.  Seated at the front of the conference table, John -- as the honored guest -- was looking down at his folded hands, eyepatch notwithstanding, seemingly detached from the conversation.  As the highest ranking officer around the table, he listened to the information that each of the other officers voiced, yet only one thought repeated in his mind:
current_story/the_reservists.1705637595.txt.gz · Last modified: by cromwell

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