The hum of a transporter faded as Lieutenant Commander James Anderson materialized on the receiving pad at the Vehlara Springs Resort, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.  As he stepped off the pad, a resort staffer approached.  “Welcome to Vehlara Springs!” she said cheerily.  “My name is Serin; how can I assist you?”

Anderson seemed to startle for a moment, but recovered quickly.  The six-foot-plus human offered Serin a PADD.  “James Anderson.  I’m told I have a reservation?”

Serin took the PADD, scanning it quickly.  “Yes!  I see it here; a small seaside bungalow.”  She tapped a few commands, then handed the PADD back.  “They’re, you’re all checked in; if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your bungalow.”

Anderson followed Serin as she guided him to a group of bungalows, of various sizes; she was talking the whole way, telling him about some of the amenities that the resort had to offer, but he was only half-listening, though he did note the location of the nearest bar.  When they were close, she pointed to a smaller bungalow towards the end, with a short pier into the water attached to it.  “That one is yours, Mr. Anderson.  There are intercom panels in all of the rooms, so please let us know if you need anything; we have an all-hours staff, so you won’t need to wait long!”

Anderson nodded.  “Thank you, Ms. Serin,” he said.  She blushed.  “Of course!  I hope you enjoy your stay!”  With that, she walked back towards the welcome and concierge area.

Anderson entered the bungalow, taking a look around; it was very quaint and comfortable, and the sea breeze rather refreshing.  He set his bag down and removed his uniform tunic and undershirt, then stretched.  The doc wasn’t wrong, this place is pretty peaceful, he thought as he ran a hand across the right side of his face, fingers tracing a long scar down his cheek and neck.

A few minutes later, he stepped out of the bungalow, now dressed in civilian attire: a comfortable shirt and pants.   A dark leather jacket completed the ensemble, though he carried it instead of wearing it at the moment; the jacket looked like it had seen better days.

Anderson made his way to the bar, taking a seat by a wall.  A waiter walked over.  “Is there anything I can get you, sir?” he asked.

Anderson nodded.  “I mai tai-” he chuckled, as the waiter gave a polite smile to hide a quiet groan “one on tonight, so let’s start with an Old Fashioned, and see how things go.  And surprise me with something local from the kitchen.”  The waiter nodded, taking down the order on a PADD before moving off to attend to another table.  The drink came in short order, and the food – a local equivalent of Earth calamari – a few minutes later.  As the evening wore on, Anderson stayed settled at his table, enjoying food and drink as he settled into the first night of his leave.