Name: Henry Avery
Age: 24
Rank: Ensign
Species: Vulcan
Home-world : Earth

A recent graduate of Starfleet Transmissions and Communications Intelligence School where he studied Advanced Warp Core Theory, Signature Masking and Advanced Signals Analysis specializations upon completion of the initial 4 year training course of Starfleet Academy.

Henry Avery was born from two upper middle class Federation Patrons in the city of Grosse Point, Michigan. Neither of which approved of his choice of service to Starfleet instead wishing Henry had continued his studies in a more "Civilized" Field of study as they had worked tirelessly to send him to a prestigious technical academy. Upon graduating from the local school gaining "honors" and unbeknownst to his parents Henry sent in his transcripts to Starfleet and was accepted under the conditions he completed the Academy's Spatial Intelligence Program after the initial 4 year officer program.

Henry Graduated mid-tier of his assigned 4 year Academy Class to which he felt estranged from his student peers from his non-military middle class family background. Avery received his full commission to Ensign after the completion of his two year technical degree and is "Green" from The Academy. Henry has just been assigned as a Communications Officer "Commo" to a small Frigate in the 12th fleet designated specifically to complete the mission of "Information: Intercepting, Interpreting, Analyzing and Relaying" .

The Journey Begins...

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"Hit Hard, Hit Fast, Hit Often" -Admiral William "Bull" Halsey

-Graduation Day-
*Reveille*
I groggily arose from my rack, this rack that I've gotten to know oh so well these past two years taking one last look of all my boxed belongings, save for the two sets of uniforms neatly pressed and on their hangars.
I've done this before and I knew the drill, kriff we've gone through the motions, the drilling of the ceremony at the end of each class for the past two weeks but that didn't make me any less nervous about graduating today.

"It'll be an experience." The instructors weren't bad teachers I suppose, looking back the past couple of years trying to instill a baseline for our endeavors but they knew better than anyone else and warned us about how the courses would be severely outdated in practices along with each of our (my classmates and I) orders and missions being different, taking us into the far reaches of space....

Ah my orders, The USS Fort Mackinac... I did my research as best I could on the vessel but it wasn't a very noteworthy craft; two battle "E" awards and a Unit Commendation in the past...oh twenty or so years with the fleet.. She's a bit older but my hopes are high. The name sake was after a Fort which oversaw two minor battles and a massacre of Englishmen by the Native Americans who duped the English by starting to play a field game for entertainment before brandishing weapons and scal.. ah what a grisly thing to think about at such an hour, the sun hasn't even arose.

As I dress I try to maintain my composure, looking at my uniform scanning it for any imperfections once each piece has settled upon my frame from my pants and jacket to my gloves. The whole while thinking "The ceremony should last no more than a half hour...march into the hall...stand in front of the audience of my classmates' families, friends and dignitaries while some Starfleet brass drones on about the importance of our mission to Starfleet as a whole and the great things we are going to do with our careers. I just want to get it over though I'm not excited about the transport to the Mack."

I take one last look at my belongings before stepping out the door, The large crates with their intended destination and Avery stamped in large blockish letters. Without bothering making my rack, "I sure hope my stuff gets to where I'm heading", I step out of the room.... ready to go.

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"Hit Hard, Hit Fast, Hit Often" -Admiral William "Bull" Halsey

*A loud yelling was heard* "Eyes Right" We marched in to the beat of the drum, our faces pointed towards the crowd but we couldn't see a single face. The two hundred or so of us in rows of four moving across the academy grinder each of us trying to pinpoint a single person in the audience but at the rate of speed we were moving and with anxiety levels running for each of us, its highly illogical in our adrenaline induced state to think about facial recognition. We were all on "auto-pilot" not wanting to be remembered as the person who marched over the column in front of them because we saw a loved one. I wasn't expecting my family to be there, both of my parents were highly outspoken against what they felt was the militarization and exploration of the galaxy. But in the back of my mind I'd had hoped they would have come for me...alas afterwards, I found they did not.

*And Halt* My column stopped. *Right Face* we all turned like a well oiled machine, clockwork if you will. *Attention* We all popped up, its a marvel what the drilling of motions can do to a group of people with such differences in stature and demeanor after rehearsing time and again. The guest speaker came out on the microphone, other than her being a Vice Admiral from 4th fleet Intelligence command I hadn't a clue of anything about her. I couldn't see her face, but her voice it was indescribably unbearable....Distinctively Ferengi... (To me one of the worst sounds in the universe is the voice of a Ferengi). I was paying no mind to anything she was saying, I was more focused on not passing out in formation and hoping none of my peers would suffer the embarrassment.

After about three hours of hearing that woman drone, they called liberty and cut us loose.While most of my peers set out to looking for their families mostly running to greet them, I set off back to my room to verify my belongings had been picked up and to change into my new uniform that I had earlier set aside. The shipping crates were gone, I quickly changed, placed my dress uniform into a uniform bag and left my stateroom at the academy for the last time. My shuttle to the Fort Mackinac was awaiting.

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"Hit Hard, Hit Fast, Hit Often" -Admiral William "Bull" Halsey

I approached the shuttle bay corridor my garment bag in hand, the expansiveness that it was and the mucking about of other officers, crew and species. Shuttles and gigs with the emblems of their respective numbered fleets and Ships, some with their hulls removed undergoing maintenance others being loaded and unloaded with their cargo. I looked down upon my orders *shuttle bay 24*. I hastily approached the appropriate bay where a gruff looking Tellarite lieutenant was leaning against the cargo gig, arms crossed watching over a couple petty officers as they loaded up the cargo bay. He paid me less than a glance as I boarded the shuttle when what I assumed to be the COB abruptly stopped me upon my entry. "Orders!" She barked in a rather annoyed fashion, "pardon me" I said, stunned by her brashness "but don't I get a salute? you are after all enlisted". She rolled her eyes at me and began to raise her arm after handing me back my documents, as if in a rendering motion before rotating her wrist, slightly with her middle finger slowly extended. "Welcome aboard butter-bar, you're seat is in the back! Get there!" I was taken fully aback now, just as I was about to speak the officer in charge boarded seeing my face and telling me not to bother, as his craft wasn't used to flying with academy snobs. I sincerely hoped my voyage to my vessel wasn't going to be like this the whole way.
We departed earth shortly after I got settled in the craft and I fell asleep after the launch, wanting to put this rude crew behind me. We set off for Valhalla.

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"Hit Hard, Hit Fast, Hit Often" -Admiral William "Bull" Halsey