Running Late

Posted on 04 Jan 2020 @ 3:09pm by Lieutenant JG Charles McCullen & Commodore Harvey Geisler

3,388 words; about a 17 minute read

Mission: Epilogue
Location: New Bajor, USS Black Hawk
Timeline: January 3, 2390

== New Bajor, Quarters of Leoja Darys ==

"Lieutenant McCullen, if you don't stop that we're going to be late. Again." Leoja Darys scolded, looking down at him from the edge of the bed where they'd been camping for the better part of the morning.

"Stop what?" Charlie couldn't help but grin, an impish smile that accentuated his boyish features. He stretched, cat-like, and his grin grew a little wider. He knew exactly what he was doing and he was enjoying every second of it.

"You know exactly what, Charlie." Darys shook his head, giving the younger man a long-suffering look that was belied by the humor in his eyes. "Lying there, like that, all half-naked and trying to seduce me. Again."

"Trying?" Charlie put on an insulted tone, bringing on a frown that wrinkled the bridge of his nose, "what do you mean, trying? If I was trying to seduce you, I'd do this..."

"Oh, prophets guide me..." The Bajoran closed his eyes, shaking his head side to side gently, "stop, Charlie! You're supposed to report in an hour and I have to go to work."

"Spoil sport," Charlie huffed, enjoying the look of consternation on his partner's face. The fact was, as much as he was looking forward to his new assignment, the month he'd spent on New Bajor with Darys had been paradise and he was loathe to give it up. Leaving the man behind on New Bajor while he went off on the USS Black Hawk was going to be hard, as hard as it had been the three other times he'd done it, and he wasn't looking forward to it.

"We've got one more day, Charlie." Darys sighed, as if reading his thoughts. He'd always been able to do that, had told him that he was easier to read than a Kava farmer. "Get up, go shower and get dressed and I'll make breakfast. Come on, lump! Move!"

The promise of breakfast had been a start, the jab in his ribs was the impetus that got him going, with a yelp and a laugh, towards the shower. He grinned as he walked, feeling his partner's eyes and slowing slightly to let the man get a proper look.

"Move, lech! Or so help me I'll chase... no, never mind! I swear, you will be my end, Charles McCullen. Shower! Breakfast! Go!"

== Transporter Room One, USS Black Hawk ==

Sixty two minutes and thirty seconds later, Lieutenant Charles McCullen materialized on the transporter pad of the USS Black Hawk, freshly washed, pressed and uniformed. He was, despite his boyfriend's best efforts, running a little late and had opted for the transporter rather than the more traditional shuttle from the surface to save him some time. The fresh kava juice and makapa bread was heavy in his stomach and he was already feeling the morning's glow fade, quickly being replaced by the nervousness that had plagued his professional career. Meeting a new captain was at the tippy-top of his list of things that made him nervous and he could feel his brain beginning to spin, moving almost faster than he could keep up with.

"Sir?" The transporter tech queried and Charlie started, wondering just how long he'd been standing on the pad contemplating. "Oh! Uh, Lieutenant Charles McCullen, reporting aboard. Is the, uh, captain in his... uh, ready room?"

"Computer, locate Captain Geisler," the tech ordered, sounding bored, and the computer replied with a location. "Out the door, turn left, down the passageway, turbolift at the end."

"Thanks, uh..." Charlie looked belatedly at the man's collar, "chief."

"Welcome aboard sir." The chief replied, seemingly already busy with something else. As Charlie left the transporter room, he was sure he heard a murmur about junior officers.

It took another five minutes of hand-wringing, nervous travel to find the captain, which made him eight minutes late. Not a good start, Charlie scolded himself, not a good first impression. "Uh... Captain Geisler, sir?"

Deck Fourteen was not a large space by any means. The deck contained Shuttle Storage and Maintenance, the arboretum, a revamped Intelligence Center, Sensor Control, four recreation rooms, Deflector Control, and other large machinery for the sensor and navigational arrays, all of which kept the level bustling throughout the ship's repair and refit. With just a few days left for launch, Captain Geisler found himself on this deck performing a final inspection on the rebuilt Sensor Control room, which had been previously destroyed by a suicidal Dolmoqour.

The inspection had started half an hour late due to a prior appointment that had ultimately been cancelled when the appointee hadn't shown up. Harvey stood over a console, mug of coffee in one hand, and a padd with details on the reconstruction efforts in the other.

"As you can see," said the lead technician, eyeing the new arrival whom the Captain had yet to acknowledge, "resolution has been increased by seven percent, and the accuracy of all findings by fifteen percent. R and D even suggest that these sensors might even be able to start getting proper visuals inside a Mutara nebula."

"Fascinating," Harvey replied, sipping his coffee as he turned to the left to see a younger officer in red standing there. The lieutenant's face was one he recognized; the appointee that had been a no-show for him this morning. "Standby, Lieutenant," he told the younger officer before turning back to the technician.

Charlie fidgeted, resisting the urge, barely, to play with his comm badge or the pips on his collar. He couldn't tell how the captain was reacting to him, was he angry or just busy and as that thought spun itself around in his head, gaining momentum with every passing second, his anxiety began to grow. He did his best to hold it in check, falling back on the lessons he'd learned from his most recent counselor and tried to think of something else, mentally calculating trajectories and course tracks from Earth to Vulcan, to Bajor, and to Rigel, working out the travel times at various warp speeds and making up imaginary helm reports for each. It partly worked, helping him to stay relatively calm, but he found his fingers idly playing with his comm badge anyway.

Harvey continued his inspection for the next few minutes as he was treated to several performance tests, all of which could be easily seen from the central table equipped with a holographic display. The resolution and detail captured from the forward array could even spot a workbee operator picking his nose, from half a lightyear away. The Captain, impressed, wasted no time in sharing his thoughts with the lieutenant in charge as he signed off on the reconstruction work. Each person in the room was new, and Harvey made it a point to not reveal to any of them that their predecessors had been vaporized in a contained explosion. Had the initial drydock engineers not been so thorough in their own efforts, there might still be residual imprints of the prior sensor control crew.

"Carry on," Harvey instructed, passing the authorized padd back to the lead technician. He then turned and left the room, gesturing for the young lieutenant in red to follow alongside him. "Do you usually make it a habit of being late, Lieutenant?"

"No sir." Charlie responded, almost automatically as he followed the captain out of the room. He felt the need to add to his statement, "I was spending time with my... uh... my partner. He's staying behind on New Bajor and we... uh... lost track of time... kinda... and uh, I'm normally pretty punctual... but I know that's... uh... well, that's not a good reason... if there's, uh... a good reason for being late at all... and uh..." Shut up, Charlie! The thought, oddly in the voice of his father, popped unbidden into his brain, interrupting his runaway train of thought. He winced, painfully aware that he was babbling, it was a nervous tic that he'd never been able to shake and even though he was aware of it, it often got away from him. "I... uh... sorry, sir."

Harvey smirked as a yeoman approached him, handing off a padd and walking past the two of them. The Captain glanced at it for a moment before lowering it to his side in order to take another sip of coffee. "Relax, lieutenant, before you sprain something in that head of yours." So far, the impression of the young Lieutenant was not favorable. Then again, Harvey's patience had been worn down after the long refit and two twins who were yet to sleep through the night. "Let's start with the basics. What's your name?"

Charlie made an effort, he held his breath for a second and let it out in a long, slow exhale - taking a moment to center himself and going through the mental exercises he'd learned. They helped, he found a little space in his head and parked himself there. "Yes sir, junior lieutenant Charlies McCullen, sir." His voice was a little lower and a lot less frantic.

"McCullen?" Harvey repeated. He had skimmed the young pilot's dossier prior to their cancelled meeting, but even then the name had struck a bell. "Any relation to James McCullen?"

Charlie resisted the urge to sigh, for as long as he'd been in Starfleet, even when he had attended the academy, he'd lived under the long and perpetual shadow of his mother and father. His mother was an admiral and his father a captain. He had five siblings, two of whom were in the marines and the others were all in Starfleet and all but his twin sister Brie outranked him. Wherever he went, no matter what he did, at least one of their names came up.

"Yes sir, he's my father." He replied, the possibility that Captain Geisler suspected that he'd gotten into Starfleet not on his own merits but because of his family swam unwelcome into his imagination, but he tried to ignore it, to give the captain the benefit of the doubt. "Do you know him, sir?"

"I know of him," Harvey stated, turning left at a junction. Unlike previous sections of corridor, this one was still missing carpet and several of the panels that hid the EPS power tabs and conduits as well as the piping and wiring for several other subsystems. "Whether I know him well or not isn't of consequence. I'm not one to give out preferential treatment because of the successes of one's family. On this ship, you succeed or fail on your merit alone."

Charlie's anxiety jumped up a gear as the captain confirmed, as he understood what the man had said, his fears. Geisler thought he was looking for special treatment, just like so many others, he was assuming that Charlie had gotten where he was through favors and the influence of his parents. "I'm a Starfleet officer," he said, it came out sounding petulant and sullen, "and I've never asked for special treatment. And... and... and..." Charlie hesitated for a second, his hands were trembling. He had to will up the anger he needed to get the words out and they came out all together in a rush, "and if you think I got here because of who my parents are, then maybe I... I should put in for a transfer right now, sir."

The Captain stopped walking and fully turned to size up McCullen. He took note of the trembling hands, and the tone of Charles' voice. It was clear the McCullen reputation preceded him wherever Charles went, especially this early in his career. "How you got here, Mister McCullen, does not matter to me. What matters to me is your performance on this ship. Perform well, and you'll continue to sit at that helm. Perform badly... well, let's just not let that happen, shall we?"

"No sir," Charlie answered, relief flowed into his brain, going a long way to washing out the anxiety that had been building. He was still nervous, still very much aware that his every action and word were being judged, but if the captain was going to let him prove himself on his own merits and not those of his stupid family name.

His skills as a helmsman and pilot were one of the few things that Charlie was completely, unequivocally confident about - he knew he wasn't a particularly good officer, he was a socially awkward introvert. He was bad with people, conversation made him anxious, nervous, and prone to verbal diarrhea. He had trouble expressing himself and constantly imagined that others were judging him and finding him wanting. But he could pilot anything that could be made to fly - if that was the criteria the captain wanted to judge him on, he knew he could meet the man's expectations.

"Thank you, sir." He felt compelled to add, "and... uh, sorry for the... uh, outburst."

Harvey fought the urge to chuckle at Charles' expense and instead turned to continue his walk. "Just make sure the Charles McCullen I met in this corridor doesn't come to the bridge, Lieutenant. Any questions for me at this time?"

Charlie's brain went into momentary overdrive as he struggled to find an intelligent question to ask the captain. His imagination produced a spiel of inane drivel, most of which was nothing but useless small talk, impolite personal questions and something about a pirate that wouldn't quite formulate itself into an actual question. "I, uh..." he floundered, grabbing onto the first semi-pertinent question that came his way like a drowning man to a rescue swimmer, "when do we depart, sir?"

"Three days," Harvey replied. "Command calls it a shakedown cruise. I call it flying with training wheels and parental oversight to make sure we're ready to go back out there. We'll probably be hitting at least one of the nearby nebulae so that we can test the new sensors. How good are you at flying blind?"

A quote popped into Charlie's head and he grinned at the captain, "Captain, give me a map and a stopwatch and I could fly you through down-town New London without sensors. It's just dead-reckoning, sir."

The Captain smiled and chuckled at the Lieutenant's remark, especially since it displayed that the man had other modes beside high strung. "That's a good report, Mister McCullen. I think you'll find this assignment to be an excellent mark on your service record if your performance is as good as your claim." Harvey purposely withheld information on the Black Hawk's adventures over the last couple of years. He didn't want to spook the new arrival, after all.

"Thank you, sir," Charlie replied, he wasn't there yet, but he could feel the beginning of an easy relationship with this new captain of his, something about the man's demeanor helped to take the edge of his anxiety. It seemed to Charlie that Geisler was different that the other captains he'd served under, more laid back and yet somehow not. As first impressions went, it was a pretty good one. That, coupled with the fact that he had three more precious days to spend with Darys left him feeling pretty good. "Is it alright if I, uh... go to the bridge and get acquainted with the helm?"

"By all means, Lieutenant," Harvey permitted. "I would recommend too getting some simulator time in. I don't have any doubts about your qualifications, but I've been around long enough to know that you've got to be prepared for just about anything these days. Make sure to get acquainted with your staff, keeping training to the forefront, and be sure to liaise with the Squadron. There's a lot more for a helmsman to do aboard the Black Hawk than most ships. We'll be keeping you on your toes for sure."

The thought of getting acquainted with his staff made Charlie's blood run cold. He could do it, he knew, in a professional setting taking to other professionals in a strict professional framework it was doable, but he knew he wasn't going to enjoy it. The prospect of having to liaise with a squadron leader, a man McCullen imagined would be a hard charging alpha male type, wasn't any more pleasing. "Yes captain," he replied, managing to keep most of the trepidation he felt out of his voice, "I'll get started right away. Do you know if the holodecks are, uh... online?"

Harvey smiled. "The holodecks are the only things on this ship that have never been broken. You should check the schedule with the Ops Chief. I know most of them have been in continuous use since we docked, but there's always one available."

"If you don't mind me asking, sir... uh, what happened to the Black Hawk? It looks like she went through a war or something." Charlie asked, he had been made aware that the ship had been docked and under repair for months and there were rumours aplenty about why.

If only we were so lucky, thought Harvey as they neared a turbolift alcove. Stopping in front of the door, Harvey turned to face the Lieutenant. "We suffered a lot of damage on a deep space assignment. This ship is designed to operate for months at a time without a regular berth, so you can expect a lot of time in the frontier. It's trying, but this ship is... good at the hard stuff."

"Yes sir," Charlie didn't know what to think about that... it was clear that Geisler wasn't giving him the whole truth, something bad had obviously happened on the ship, but it wasn't his place to push it. No doubt, scuttlebutt would fill him in eventually, anyway. The prospect of a deep space frontier assignment was both a lure and a curse. As a pilot and a Starfleet officer, the idea of going to the frontier and spending months out there was appealing as all hell. As a partner in a relationship, it was considerably less so.

The young lieutenant glanced sideways at his new captain, wondering just what kind of hell the man had been through and how much this ship had already seen. "I'll... uh, try to live up to her, sir."

"That's all I can ask, Lieutenant." Harvey could hear the lift moving behind the doors just before it came to a stop. "Any officer who can give life and duty its best shot definitely can make a name for themselves out here. The Black Hawk's been good to us, and I'm sure she's itching for a chance to get back out there."

"Yes sir..." Charlie replied, feeling unsure of how to continue the conversation. Almost, he confessed his mixed feelings about getting 'back out there' but then worried that the captain wouldn't appreciate his hesitation and uncertainty about the whole thing. On the other hand, wasn't honesty the best policy? Stuck between two options, he floundered, unable to make the decision.

The muffled hum disappeared and the doors parted to reveal an empty turbolift car. Like Charles, Harvey wasn't sure that the conversation needed continuance. Rather than force the lieutenant to follow him around, he said to the younger man as he entered the turbolift, "If there's nothing else, Lieutenant, then I'll leave you to get acquainted with your new assignment. You'll start with Alpha shift tomorrow morning."

"Yes sir, thank you sir." Charlie answered, stepping back from the turbolift doors to let Harvey enter. "I'll see you on the bridge." Was all he could manage, it sounded lame in his ears, but it was better than nothing.

Harvey grinned as the turbolift doors closed, leaving the Lieutenant alone in the corridor.

McCullen stood staring at the closed turbolift doors for a moment, trying to sort out in his head what he wanted to do next. Excitement, nervousness, sadness, hope, fear and pride all mingled together into a cocktail of confusion.

With a shake of his head, he turned and started walking, hopefully in the direction of one of the holodecks. The job was what he could focus on to drive out all the other crap, if he focused on the job - getting to know the Black Hawk and the Century class, he'd be fine.

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