A Matter of Command

Posted on 16 Jan 2020 @ 8:03pm by Commander Terry Walsh & Commodore Harvey Geisler

3,167 words; about a 16 minute read

Mission: Sentience
Location: Captain's Mess
Timeline: MD 1 || 0730 hours

It had been more than two days since Harvey found himself needing an Executive Officer. For the last several months, Harvey had managed the Black Hawk alone, relying on Lieutenants Sorensen and Akorem to supervise the refit while he pulled double duty with Gamma Command and his attaché work with Admiral O'Connell all while keeping an eye on the Black Hawk and its growing crew.

When the Black Hawk launched fourteen months ago, it did so with seven hundred and eighty souls. Today, that number now neared nine full hundred. The ship had received nearly a hundred new crewmembers in addition to the replacements, with the bulk of the additions attached to the Squadron and Security. Work had proceeded well on the refit for the last several months, and today was the day the Black Hawk would finally once again move under her own power.

Harvey did not leave drydock without a qualified Executive Officer. For the last two days, he had poured over personnel dossiers from the ships in the sector. He didn't have a measure of doubt that any of the personnel he looked at weren't qualified. Most were either new to their ships, or a vital part of a ship's command structure. Since most of the Black Hawk's staff had remained on through the refit, Harvey knew the last thing the crew needed was a threat to their routine.

The final decision had come the night before. The Captain slept on it to be sure, and the time had now come to offer his first, and only, choice the position. He sent the message to his choice at 0500 hours, with an invitation to breakfast in the Captain's Mess. Harvey sat at the table, his back to the door. He sipped from his freshly brewed, not replicated, Wilkin's dark roast coffee as his gaze was affixed out the window on the sight of a dawn on New Bajor. For a moment, he glanced down at his now half-full cup of coffee and caught sight of his new uniform. Gone were the days of vests and jackets. The standard uniform now sported a thin black turtleneck under a pull-over long-sleeve with red bold shoulders, and the pips just above his right breast. It reminded him somewhat of the uniform he wore years ago on Starbase 211. Harvey hated that jumpsuit version. It was always difficult to get in and out of. This at least, placed function above form.

* * *

Months had gone by slowly. Lots had been accomplished in the Squadron and down on the Flight Deck. Terry had woken up before his alarm and was sitting on the edge of his bed when a message came through. He rubbed his face with his hands and moaned. Terry glanced back to the other side of the bed and saw that it was empty. Must've been an early shift, he thought to himself. He walked to the bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face before reading the message. That woke him up more than the water. It was unusual for the Captain to contact him this early and then to invite him to breakfast. He took his time getting ready while going over things in his mind.

* * *

A while later, Terry found himself standing outside the Captain's Mess. He hoped that there was some strong coffee available. Terry adjusted himself in the new uniform. It would take some getting used to; especially the placement of the rank pips. But overall, they seemed to fit his large physique better. He ran his hand over his bald head and pressed the door chime.

"Enter!" Harvey called out, still facing the window.

Terry stepped inside and noticed the view from the window. "Nice view of the planet. I've seen lots of sunrises, but never from this vantage point."

Harvey didn't need the reflection in the mirror to know that the person he was expecting had arrived. He was rarely disturbed in the Captain's Mess. Even both Joey and Mila wouldn't come by unless invited. "It's intoxicating, really," Harvey stated. "It's hard to believe that it's only been a year and a half since our last starship became a permanent fixture on the surface. I still attest that when the light hits the planet just right, you can see a glimmer of its hull."

"It really is," Terry replied. "And I bet you're probably right about seeing a glimmer of it's hull. It shone brightly in space, why not at it's final resting place? You know," he said, approaching, "all this time in orbit and I never did get down there to pay a visit. I wonder if there's some kind of memorial set up?"

"There is, actually," Harvey said, turning and standing, holding his coffee mug in one hand. "I was there just a couple days ago. You can't go inside the ship, but there's a couple different vantage points where you can look at the ship from, and a memorial wall with the names of all lost during the conflict, regardless of their role. Would you like some coffee? It's freshly brewed."

Terry nodded, glad that something had been done for those who given their lives during the conflict. "Oh yeah, I'll take a cup. Freshly brewed beats replicator coffee any day. Straight black, please. And thanks."

Harvey poured Terry a cup's worth of Wilkin's and then topped off his own cup. Just as Harvey moved to hand off the cup to the Lieutenant Commander, the door opened and the chef walked in. "Good morning, Captain," greeted the Bolian. "The usual today for you?"

The Captain shook his head. "I'm in the mood for an omelet today, Turkey and vegetable."

"Oh course, sir." The Bolian turned to Walsh. "And you, Commander?"

Terry had taken a sip of the steaming cup of hot bean flavored water. It had to be the best coffee he'd had in a long time. But when the Bolian addressed him, he paused a second to think. "I'm usually a steak and eggs kind of a person for breakfast. But I think I'll go a little lighter this morning. Let's have some poached eggs, bacon, and toast."

The Bolian nodded and departed, leaving the two high ranking officers alone in the mess hall. “Worried about something?” Harvey asked the Squadron Commander as he took a sip of his refreshed beverage. “How’s the Squadron faring these days?”

"Eh," replied Terry. "Just the anticipation of how new personnel are integrating into the existing 'flight society' after all these months. It was quite different from anything they've experienced in the cockpit. But so far, they seem to be doing well overall. I haven't seen any reports or heard anything to the contrary and everyone puts on a good face when the Squadron Commander comes around." He smiled and chuckled a little at that last bit.

“I’m sure they’ll be eager then for us to get back out and on our own power again.” Harvey gestured for Terry to take a seat. “We’ve been cooped up in dry dock for far too long, and I fear it’s starting to take its toll on the crew.”

"I have no doubt about that," said Terry. "They are an eager bunch." He took the offered seat and sat back. "Cabin fever can set it after a while and make one restless. That's for sure. Unless...you know something. Or can feel and uneasiness."

Harvey smiled, taking his usual seat in front of the viewport. "They say a Captain is supposed to know every weld and every bolt on his ship. I've walked the corridors for months, simply observing. Many of us are just tired of sitting still, though I don't know how many of us would willing trade sitting still for even just another round in the Convergence Zone." Harvey sipped his coffee and set the mug down. "It's the kind of thing where people start to take assignments off the ship. Even just yesterday, I approved six transfer requests."

Terry nodded as the Captain began speaking. He took a sip of his coffee but held the cup in his hands with fingers interlaced around it. When he got to the part about transfers, the Squadron Commander grunted and said, "I'm sorry to hear that. Six transfers in one day...I can't imagine what the last few months have held. At least there's new people coming aboard to fill those slots."

"New Counselor. New Helmsman." Harvey paused, taking a nice swig of his coffee this time. "There's nearly nine hundred people aboard now. Picked up a hundred in the last few months, not to mention eighty-four other replacements. It's a lot for one man to manage."

"Almost one-thousand people. Yeah, that's a lot for one man to..." He trailed off. The next few seconds seemed a lot longer. One man, come to think of it he hadn't seen Commander Teixeria around the ship for quite some time. "Um, one man?" Terry a good swig of his now cooler coffee and put the mug on the table. "What about Commander Teixeria?"

Harvey sighed, setting his mug of coffee on its saucer, which he held in his hand. "Commander Teixeria was invited to be a guest lecturer at Starfleet's Command Academy for a semester. It was a great opportunity for him, and it's one I was a little jealous of. But, um... Starfleet often has other ideas for us and our service. They'd been courting him to take the command chair for a few years. He gave up the Cochrane after the Battle of Deep Space Eleven, but this time they didn't let him refuse. I just got word two days ago."

"Wow, that's some opportunity. Congrats for him. But, two days ago doesn't seem like enough time to get someone else aboard," said Terry. "Unless Starfleet had been planning on this and someone will be here before we leave dock."

The Bolian chef entered at that moment and delivered their meals. He'd been on the ship for more than a year and knew full well that the Captain wouldn't speak around him unless the mood was jovial. Being a Bolian, he could tell instantly that the mood was anything but.

As soon as the chef left the room and the door closed, Harvey leaned forward and picked up a fork. "Starfleet hasn't assigned anyone, which is a first for them. I've spent the last two days looking at available candidates in the sector. The truth is... there just isn't anyone out there who's qualified to serve on this vessel."

Terry tore off a piece of the toast and picked up his fork to cut the poached egg. He used the toast to push the egg piece onto the fork and then swirled it around in the liquid. Before taking the bite, he said, "I guess there's a first for everything. Even for Starfleet. But it's a big ship with lots of people to shepherd and manage, you'd think there'd be someone that would fit the bill." He took the bite he'd been holding and chewed.

Harvey clipped off a piece of his omelet. Before he ate it, he looked at Terry and asked, "What do you think about Lieutenant Alexander?" He then promptly consumed what the fork held.

Terry took another drink of his coffee. "She's got a good head on her shoulders. She's been on my wing for missions and training and everything in between. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have there when things go downhill. Months ago, when all hell was breaking loose, she and a bunch of the others were possessed. Despite the circumstances, her report said she and the others put up a good fight against the Guardians."

"Excellent," Harvey remarked between bites of eggs and vegetables. "I think I'm in need of a new Squadron Commander. That is, if you're willing to try your hand at XO."

Terry paused for a few seconds and held his bacon in midair. "I, uh, what?" he managed to get out. "I mean, of course I heard you, but XO? Sure, I'm willing to give it a go. But I'll admit, I'm surprised. Out of all the available candidates in this sector, why me?" His response was broken and full of half-thoughts only because he was saying things as they came to his mind.

"Several reasons," Harvey replied, suspending his next mushroom-filled bite above his plate. "There is a lack of qualified candidates. The crew know and trust you. I don't need anyone coming in from the outside and shaking this ship up more than the Counselor that was just assigned. And, most importantly, I trust you."

Harvey lifted his bite, and began to consume it. As soon as he could talk again, he added for Terry's benefit. "If it helps, even Thiago recommended you. You've made quite an impression on us all."

Terry had used this moment to gather his thoughts. He'd decided that he should probably visit the counselor when he stopped by Medical. "I hope I can continue to earn that trust. And," he said, raising his coffee cup slightly, "a thanks to Commander Teixeria for the recommendation." He swirled the liquid around the bottom of the cup and drank it. "Thank you for this opportunity to serve alongside and learn from you."

"It'll be a pleasure," Harvey said between bites. He set down his fork and raised his glass to return the toast, even though Walsh already drank his. "Thankfully, I'm not going to force you to plunge in headfirst. Our first trip out of drydock's just going to be your run-of-the-mill shakedown. I just hope we don't get bored to tears while doing it."

He rubbed the toast around in the liquid from the second poached egg. "A normal shakedown cruise would be real nice to cut my teeth with. As far as being bored to tears, I don't think I've ever had that happen since I've been aboard this ship. But that's not a bad thing. Keeps me on my toes." He took a bite of the egg-soaked toast.

Harvey chuckled, setting down his mug down and continuing to cut away at his half-eaten omelet. "So, Lieutenant Alexander and the squadron. Do you approve of her as Squadron CO? You can keep your fighter around and still be involved in the squadron. I try to keep up on medicine as much as I can."

"I do approve of her," he replied. "I think she'll make a good CO for them. And at the same time, it'll give her a chance to spread her wings." He paused and picked up a piece of bacon. "And thanks for letting me keep my fighter. Gotta stay up on those certifications and flight hours. So, medicine. I can't remember if we've ever talked about you being a doctor or not."

"Excellent." Harvey looked down at his plate to examine what remained of his omelet before cutting and stabbing his next portion. "I don't talk about my medical career too much. Not because I'm ashamed of anything, but just because it's behind me. I've had to stay looking forward for more than a decade now, and I like it that way. No offense. There are some good memories back there though, like when I found the cure for Edlund's Syndrome."

He swallowed the bacon and took a bite of the last poached egg as the Captain spoke. "Finding a cure isn't something to sneeze at. Er, pardon the unintended pun there. But that was great work. Now that you mention it, though, looking forward makes sense. If I spent a lot of my time on the Flight Deck now, it would cause some issues. I can still keep up on my flying hours and certs without stepping on toes."

Harvey nodded his approval as he finished his omelet. He reached for his coffee in order to finish the beverage. But before he did, he said, "I think I mentioned today's departure day. We have a staff briefing in about an hour. Orders came through from Starfleet Command for a few promotions, including Lieutenant Alexander. What do you say you take care of that honor when the time comes? In the meantime, stop by Administration and take care of your clearance upgrades. They're already expecting you."

"You did. And I'd love the honor to attach Lieutenant Alexander's rank," said Terry. He put his fork down on the plate. "Might I also be the one to promote her to Squadron Commander, too? And yeah, I'll stop by and get those taken care of before the staff briefing." He'd already finished his coffee and tapped the side of the cup. "Good stuff, by the way."

"It's Wilkins," Harvey explained, rising to his feet and placing his empty mug on the table. He picked up something that had been obscured by a napkin, but made no effort to reveal what it was. "Some of Earth's finest coffee, and the company dates back to the twentieth century. The galley brews a fresh pot for me each day, as long as we've got some on hand. You're welcome to some of it, but just don't run me dry." Harvey started walking to the door, but stopped to stand next to Terry. "Unless you've got anything else, I'll see you in an hour at the staff briefing."

Terry nodded. "Thanks for the invitation. I might get a cup now and then but trust me, I won't run you dry. Wilkins is too good to lose." He looked over to Harvey. "I don't have anything else Captain. Guess I'll see you at the briefing."

Harvey smiled. "Do me a favor though. The uniform looks good on you, but it's incomplete. Make sure you take care of that before then." The Captain set what he was holding, a small box, next to Walsh's plate and then left the room.

Terry was confounded for a moment. But then the Captain put a box on the table and left. He looked down and grinned. He'd seen a box like that once before. When the 325th came back home to roost and the very same Captain was walking him down to the Flight Deck of the Akira-class Black Hawk. He was Chief Support Craft Pilot then...god that seemed like a lifetime ago...and now he'd just been promoted to Executive Officer. And a similar little box sat in front of him. Terry opened it and saw the shining, full pip for the rank of Commander sitting in it's velvet cushion. He took the hollow pip from it's resting place and removed the solid one from the box. Terry put the hollow one in the box and attached the solid one to his uniform, making it complete. He got up to leave the room, but paused before reaching the door and patted the new pip. "Good ole' Wilkins."

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