Okay, so this is a character I created for a sim a number of years back; he was an NPC, serving as that sim's Captain's Yeoman. It started off largely as a joke; I said I was wanting a new NPC, and she suggested the Yeoman role, but she wasn't entirely serious.
I took it as a challenge and sat down and designed the character that day. His name is Aldo Tiranor, and at the time he was an Ensign. He's... flamboyant. He's had moments where he was more flamboyant, but he is also a competent yeoman, anticipating her needs and always working hard to make sure she was prepared for anything, which any good yeoman would.
This is set about ten years after that sim ended.
Rich will probably recognize him, although his name has changed slightly since then.
Part One of A day in the life of…
The Lieutenant worked his way down the long corridor of Starfleet Headquarters, gliding like an expert dancer as he worked his way through the throng of people. The place was always busy, always packed; cadets, officers, even civilians, all moving in concert to this destination or that.
Aldo “Tir” Tiranor sighed. It wasn’t just a little sigh. It was dramatic, noticeable, and more than a little melodramatic as he tilted is head back, and then rolled his eyes as he let out the audible sigh.
He hated coming here, he admitted. It had been, what, seven years now? Seven years since the Admiral had become, well, The Admiral, and it still wasn’t any better.
Oh, and he did not even want to get started on the Admiral’s husband. “What a boorish man,” he huffed, disdain crossing his face as he found his way into the Yeoman’s Lounge.
“Hello my beautiful people!” He announced cheerfully as he entered, faces looking up and smiling at him.
They were not beautiful.
Still, Tir enjoyed making people smile, and if it brightened their day who was he to deny them of that?
Ensign Margaret Anders lofted a narrow, well-manicured brow at him. “Isn’t the Admiral off planet?”
“Yes,” Tir replied as he poured himself a cup of hot water for his spiced tea. There was coffee, but he wrinkled his nose at that. Such a rancid drink. He enjoyed his hot spiced tea; a much more enjoyable beverage. It was like beer, he thought. He never understood why someone would drink beer if they could drink wine. Wine would get you just as tipsy, and it didn’t taste like someone made it with animal waste.
“So why are you here?” she asked.
Tir sat down and, with a measure of flare, crossed is legs. “Well,” he started placing his cup on the table while the tea steeped, “The Admiral has a very busy schedule,” he said, pronouncing the last word shedule, the word rolling off of his tongue powerfully. He smiled at the woman. “Frankly she would be completely lost without me; if I didn’t come in nothing would get done.”
Margaret scoffed, shaking her head. Several others in the room chuckled. “Bitches, please,” Tir said flatly as he picked up his tea. “Do any of you want to be her Yeoman?”
Silence. Just as I thought, Tir thought, shifting smugly in his seat. “I, for one, love my job. I have been with the Admiral for over eleven years now; she is a very precise woman who has very particular needs. I excel at knowing what she needs when she needs it, sometimes even before she realizes.”
While he did he embellish some there, it was true that Aldo Tiranor was exceptional at his job, and even The Admiral had to admit, on very rare occasions, that the young Lieutenant had been a vital asset. He supposed that was why she had kept him on all of these years, though the truth may have been simply that she disliked change; that particular thought had not actually occurred to him, however.
He took his tea and left the lounge, working his way towards the turbo-lift. Her office was on the sixty-first floor, and he took a moment to enjoy the view; the outer wall of the lift was clear flex-glass, and allowed him to view the entirety of the courtyard below.
He saw several young cadets playing a game of disc-toss. They were stripped down to their shorts, and it looked as though they had been playing for a while. Their powerful frames caught and returned the small metal disc with the ease of men who had been playing the game for years. The game itself was good for hand-eye coordination, and was often encouraged.
Tir encouraged the game as well.
The lift dinged and his gaze suddenly snapped away; the doors opened on the third floor and several people entered. He smiled at them, and the lift continued on.
The Admiral’s office was in perfect order, just how she left it. He entered and placed his tea down on his desk; the office was wide and open, with massive windows at her back, revealing a perfectly blue sky. His desk, which was near the entrance, served, as he liked to think of it, as the gateway to her. No one saw the Admiral without first getting through Aldo Tiranor.
He swayed towards her desk, placing several datapadds on it in a neat pile. She would have requisition orders to sign when she returned; the bio-labs were working at a furious pace, but it was one she had set.
She had such a way about her, he thought. “People fight to please you,” he chirped. “Out of fear or pride?” He sighed dramatically. “You would say it didn’t matter, so long as it was done, wouldn’t you?”
I ran out of time to keep writing, as I have other things more pressing to deal with, but it was fun to work on, and hopefully you enjoyed it or at least found some of it slightly amusing.
Written a short story? Poem? Started a novel? Want to ask for writing tips? Share your writing talents in here!
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