He filled the glass again.

[Cptn Corizon 0]

Three duffle bags. Roundish, grey. Stuffed with uniforms, a few pads of real paper, a Daemon Calligraphy pin, a sheathed sword resembling an Autumn-Dao. Those three duffle bags contained the collective belongings of Ah-Windu Corizon.

 

For some reason, he’d never been one to collect material possessions. And that probably would never change. His friends at ATAG always joked about how sparingly decorated his house in Tokyo had been, not that he cared.

 

He carried the three bags towards the airlock where Morningstar was berthed. He hadn’t even brought his belongings aboard Excalibur...he wasn’t sure why, but he just hadn’t…not that he would have been that upset about losing the possessions—they were replaceable.

 

The young ensign watching the airlock smiled at him as he approached. “Welcome Commander,” he said with the wide smile trademark of a young officer trying to suck up. “You need a hand with those?”

 

Ah-Windu considered this for a moment. While he was perfectly capable of carrying them, the Ensign did have a job to do…but by the same token…he’d have to talk to him the whole way to deck….two. “No thanks,” Ah-Windu said trying to be friendly. “They’re not too heavy.”

 

“Of course sir.”

 

Corizon continued onto the Morningstar. For some reason he’d expected it to be eerily quite, but instead it was humming with activity; crewmembers moving in, supplies being loaded. The whole deck was buzzing. So much that no one seemed to notice Corizon lugging the bags towards a Turbolift…which he was more than happy about. The last thing he wanted to do was have a conversation with one of the crewmembers. Mostly because they’d either ask him about Excalibur or even more pleasant the Away Team; neither was a topic he particularly cared to discuss at the moment. All he wanted to do was move into his quarters and take a nice long sonic shower.

 

He hadn’t got more than three steps into his new quarters when someone knocked on the door. “Enter…”

 

“Hello Commander,” a tall slender male said as he entered the room. “I am Chief Petty Officer Jason Arial. I was stationed aboard the Excalibur and transferred to the Morningstar.”

 

Corizon turned, placing the bags down at his feet. He was glad Arial had introduced himself, because Corizon wouldn’t have had the foggiest idea who he was, he hid his irritation. “Can I help you CPO?”

 

“Well first,” Arial said nervously rubbing his palms against his outer thighs. “I’d just like to say that know one really blames you for what happened…you did everything you could sir, considering.”

 

Corizon cocked an ear up. “…Thank…you…”

 

“Second, no one ever tells us enlisted crew anything…and I just want to know what’s going to happen to our baby…”

Corizon cocked the other ear up. He would truly never understand the human fascination with their vessels…the fetish was quite disturbing sometimes. He blinked for a few moments, formulating the answer. Despite every fiber of him wanting to say: ‘She’s a piece of junk headed for the scrap yard, now get the hell out of my Quarters and leave me alone.’ He replied almost gently, “Starfleet HQ wants the folks at Antares to look at her and they’re going to make the final call…it doesn’t look good though, I have to be honest with you.”

 

Arial nodded slowly, then smiled slightly. “Thanks Commander.”

 

“Was that all Chief?”

 

“I think so…”

 

“Well not to be rude, but I have some moving into do…”

 

“Of course not, sir.”

 

When the door shut, Corizon exhaled deeply. That wasn’t so hard was it? He reached over and locked the door. He didn’t want to be disturbed anymore today. He shrugged off his duty jacket and the vest underneath it leaving only the short sleeved red tunic.

 

Unzipping the bags he began to unpack. It was a quick chore considering how little he’d actually brought with him. The uniforms took the longest. The last thing he unpacked was a stash of very old and very aged Daemon Whisky. It was a drink he’d always had a peculiar fascination with, probably an unhealthy one, but so long as he was the only one who knew about it…oh well.

 

He put the first bottle in his desk. The other one he left out with a glass. After a few moments of considering, he opened the bottle and poured a glass full. Gulp. He took it one swallow. The liquid seared his throat as it ran down to his stomach. He filled the glass again.