Elizabeth closed the final clasp on her uniform and then turned to study herself in the full-length mirror. She still felt a flush of pride in seeing herself in her dress uniform. The occasions when she had needed to wear it had been so far been few, but it symbolized everything she had worked for in getting through the Academy. Her reflection revealed her smile and she tried to fight it back, feeling somewhat both guilty and childish for having one.
She brushed at her shoulder, wiping away an imaginary piece of lint that she was convinced had been there. Checking her reflection again, she noted again how the deep violet of her uniform complemented her eyes. She knew it was somewhat silly, but she privately believed that it was good that she had made the right decision—not only for the choosing to attend the Academy, but also for accepting this posting.
Checking herself one last time, she shut off the overhead light. She was both nervous and excited about attending the reception. During her studies, she had researched many of the aliens who were part of the diplomatic contingent and their cultures. It was the first time, though, that she had ever encountered some of them in person. The Arcticans, in particular, were not prone to casual forays into Terran space. Part of her could not help but feel a small swell of pride that she would be attending the gathering as an officer of the fleet, not a civilian observer.
Without turning on the light, she checked her hair one final time, ensuring that all of it remained in place. She had considered going with something more elegant, but decided against it as she told herself that she would be appearing in uniform, not an evening gown. Tugging at her cuffs a last time, she left her quarters, heading for what promised to be very interesting evening.
She arrived a few minutes early. The crewmembers working to cater the event were just finishing. None of the delegates had yet arrived. Elizabeth had little experience with such events, but she imagined that each group would arrive with some measure of fanfare. She was surprised to find that the Captain had not yet arrived to oversee the final preparations. She's probably held up by something, Elizabeth told herself and started wandering over to where the crewmembers were putting on the last touches.
"Is it all right, Lieutenant?"
It took Elizabeth a moment to realize that the ensign who had asked her was doing so out of concern rather than an attempt at conversation or simply seeking praise. Elizabeth surveyed the arrangements before turning to smile at the worried ensign.
"Looks fine to me," she answered, silently scolding herself for not remembering the ensign's name.
The ensign brightened and looked genuinely relieved by Elizabeth's assessment. She turned away and began to work on other preparations.
The moment felt awkward to Elizabeth. It was not that long ago, she realized, when she had carried that rank. The occasion of her promotion had been both exciting and unexpected. While she had known that she had been performing her duties well, she had assumed that it would be nearly a year at least before she might have a chance at a higher rank. She had heard of some officers doing it in less time, but she had set her sights realistically. Although it felt good to wear the new insignia, she had not felt fundamentally different. She still did basically the same job and, with a crew this size, the boundaries of rank sometimes fell away when a job needed done. On more than one occasion, she had seen the captain up to her armpits in cables and various engineering fluids.
She heard footsteps behind her, recognized them as the sound of regulation dress uniform boots. Turning, she hoped to see either the Chief or the Captain, forgetting for the moment that Devereux had given the Chief specific orders to remain on duty in Engineering. Smiling slightly to herself, she wondered if the Chief would find some excuse to make an appearance on the pretense of needing to discuss something with the Captain.
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