Father Tim was given a pretty generous office. While nowhere near as large as that of Dr. Gerald's, the room had enough space to store his vestments, books, and sacramental items, as well as a small desk and workstation. A tabernacle sat on a prominent pedestal in the corner of his office, and the door was open.
It was a quiet day for Father Tim, very unlike when he arrived yesterday. He was settled, his homilies were written for the week, he had a chance to visit sickbay (which, oddly enough, sat empty for today), and he had even had a chance to get acquainted with the rest of the site. He hadn't had the luxury of silence ever since he graduated from the seminary, and he smiled. "Wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord," he muttered to himself. He opened his Bible to a random page and began to meditate on a passage that caught his eye. 1 Corinthians 13:4. A good passage indeed.
His meditation was interrupted at a knock at the door, and he looked up. "May I help you?" he asked.