LCDR Nolen Hobart — Didn't Say “Fudge”
Nolen Hobart
((Arboretum, Deep Space 33))
Hearing Connor called up pulled Nolen out of whatever funk he was threatening to spiral into, and he beamed a smile at his friend as he approached. This was a nice spot, he realized. Got to see everybody as they came up and left. Not as primo as the Captain's, of course, but nobody expected him to say anything either.
Shayne: Lieutenant, your efforts during this mission were instrumental in our success and I am grateful for your contributions- please accept the Captain’s Commendation.
Dewitt: Response
Nolen clapped, but refrained from whistling. Dewitt deserved it. Starfleet's best engineers were like him, doing their best to make the impossible happen. Or as close to it as possible. Without nearly as much grumbling as Nolen was prone to. Now that he was out of gold, it felt okay to admit that.
As the applause died down, Hobart's eyes turned to gaze at the Captain in anticipation. There was more to come, and he was the only man who knew what was next.
Shayne: Ensign Lacy! Step forward!
Lieutenant Hobart's eyes scanned the room as it fell into silence. If there had been odds placed on who the Captain would call up next, there wasn't anybody on the crew who would have guessed Ensign Imogen "Ginny" Lacy. Except, maybe, in the Engineering department. She'd proved herself since coming aboard, and had thanklessly taken on all manner of disgusting and grueling tasks. And maybe now she was going to get her thanks.
As Ginny passed by, Nolen glanced to Connor as if to ask, "Your doing?"
Shayne: Ensign Lacy, your conduct during this recent mission was admirable. Your speed and knowledge helped resolve a tense diplomatic situation, and we would be less likely to succeed without you. For this, I’m pleased to award you the Captain’s Commendation. Congratulations and thank you.
Lacy: Response
Even from where Nolen stood, it was hard to hear what the two were saying. He realized, now, that he was in a position that he might ask the Captain. But not until later.
Shayne: Doctor Ohnari! Join me for’ard.
Only by its sudden absence did Nolen notice the loathing that had slimed off of Lieutenant Ohnari’s mind the whole while Ensign Lacy was on the stage. He realized he was in a position to ask about that, too. If he didn’t engage in any acts of self-sabotage, that was. He smiled, perfectly professionally, at Dr. Ohnari as she passed, but did happen to relish the scent of her hair as it wafted his way.
Shayne: Doctor. I think you know why I’ve brought you here. I bet you thought you’d get away with it, too. Try to sneak it under our very noses, will you? For shame.
He shook his head grimly. Nolen started to chuckle as the Captain’s mischievous mind had seemed to escape Talia’s notice, probably because of the way she was currently panicking.
Ohnari: ::slightly squeaky:: I-I'm sorry, Sir?
Shayne: Fortunately, I and the rest of the senior staff are not so easily hoodwinked. Your exceptional conduct and impressive performance shall not be excused. You will pay a price for your excellence, and I can think of no better or more fitting sentence than a formalization of your current status… as chief medical officer. Congratulations and thank you.
Nolen smiled, less professionally, as they shook hands.
Ohnari: Th-thank you, Sir. I will endeavour to continue to make you proud, sir.
His eyes followed her back to her seat and widened as she sat back down next to Lieutenant Commander Waters, dressed ridiculously. As if to mock him. His eyes narrowed, as if to send a warning.
Shayne: Lieutenant Zenno! Step here if you would.
The Lieutenant made his way to the front, and Nolen smiled at him, professionally, too. His scent also wafted in his direction, though it undoubtedly didn’t originate from his shampoo. Nolen didn’t particularly relish it. Not to say it was unpleasant, of course, just it wasn’t—
Shayne: Lieutenant Zenno, I fear this cabal of under-radar capability has reached every part of this ship, and I shall cast another part into the light; by formalizing your role as Chief Security Officer. Congratulations and thank you.
Zenno: Response
The Captain shook Zenno’s hand with a smile, and the Bolian Security Chief—certainly not a combination of words many would have predicted even a single year ago—stepped down from the stage, past Nolen’s murmured well-wishes.
Shayne: Pity your fellows, for they shall go far. Mr. Dewitt! Get up here, sir!
Nolen grinned like a madman as he watched his best friend emerge from the throng. Two boxes left, and at least one of them had his name on it. He hadn’t had much of a chance to speak to the Captain about what was going to happen—there was too much to do with preparing the ship—but this one was obvious to him. He’d already accepted that Connor Dewitt was among the most talented and well-disciplined Engineers Starfleet had to offer. And that made him one of its most promising officers, as well. If Shayne had asked, the only argument Nolen would have made against promoting the man would have been that it risked drawing attention from Command, and thereby risked seeing him poached for bigger and better things.
Shayne: Mr. Dewitt. Connor. You and your team have kept this ship running for longer than any could have expected. You have executed your role with efficacy, aplomb and ability befitting the finest engineers in the fleet. Thus, I believe it is high time that you be elevated to the rank of Lieutenant Commander, with all the privileges and responsibilities therein. Congratulations, and thank you.
Nolen clapped vigorously for Connor, but all the talk about the ship had drawn his gaze towards the Arrow, floating silently in view, darkened and lonely. He couldn’t see them from here, but he knew that her hull was tickled with “crows’ feet,” and despite the EVA welding exercises Nolen and Connor had performed, there wasn’t any way to fill them all.
Motion caught the corner of Nolen’s eye, and he looked back at the stage as Connor began to make his departure. Clapping the man on the upper arm, he glanced back up to see the Captain… looking directly at him. Or behind him? He looked. Nope, just a ficus. He looked back to the Captain, again.
Shayne: Lieutenant Hobart! Rise, sir, and face public praise!
Jolted forward, he (nearly) tripped on one of the steps up the stage. Okay, actually, he did trip. And everyone saw. His cheeks flushed red to match his collar as he approached the Captain.
Shayne: Lieutenant. Please believe that I was scheming this long before you put on the red. But, now that you’ve taken on these duties and this role, it becomes even more important that you now be elevated to the rank of Lieutenant Commander, with all the privileges and responsibilities therein. Congratulations, and thank you!
Hobart: Ah! Uh. Thank you, sir!
The Captain struggled a bit to put the pip on his collar, even to the point of uttering a muffled, frustrated grunt. Eventually, the deed was done and Nolen—whose face had finally returned to its normal coloration—exited the stage back to his original standing position.
Shayne: With that, the frightening part of this little shindig is completed. Now, by all means, help yourself to some grub! The food kind, not the worm kind- Ambassador Buford will be very upset if we take anything from this little terrarium of his.
Hobart hadn't yet had the pleasure of meeting Ambassador Buford, but what he'd heard so far made him not want to. He hoped it would be a good long while until he was there. And as the Captain made his way towards the desert table, Nolen made his way towards his own dessert, on the other side of the party.
Until he saw something that inspired a detour.
Ohnari: ::turning, the grin nearly splitting her face:: Ok, now what did you do?? Tell me everything, Please?
Waters: Response?
Nolen approached the two women stealthily from behind, and waited until he was practically breathing down their necks before he spoke.
Hobart: Make sure you tell her about the part where you wiped your ID from the access logs, and definitely don't leave out the part where you forgot to wipe the terminal ID.
Ohnari/Waters: Response
Nolen smirked. He was about to say something ominous when he recalled the words of Commander Hael, back on Relva VIII.
Hobart: Don't worry, Commander. I'm told command officers aren't allowed to hold grudges, except against their equals on other ships. ::wink:: If you'll excuse me, there's a bottle of scotch over there that's yelling at me.
Ohnari/Waters: Response
Detour completed, Hobart maneuvered through a crowd of we'll-wishers, thick with emotions he wasn't particularly interested in reading. A lot of smiling and nodding and thanking and eventually he reached the bar. He flashed the bartender to get their attention and let out a sigh.
Hobart: Scotch on the rocks. Double. Whatever you got.
As the tender got to work, Hobart leaned on the bar with both forearms, and stared out through the dome at Arrow again. The engineer in him feared what hiccups awaited them upon starting it back up. The process would be complicated and lengthy, and no doubt Connor would follow every safety manual’s instructions to a tee.
His drink arrived, brown and tempting, swirling against a large ice cube that was very slowly disappearing. The surface flickered a strang, neon blue and he looked up. His brow furrowed and his lips pouted—Arrow shouldn't be done with its sweeps for at least another eighteen hours.
From behind him he heard footsteps and felt the mental notes of a respectful and dutiful crowd, parting for their leader. He turned to find Captain Shayne carrying a tray of lemon squares that probably were intended for many. But sometimes the needs of the one…
Shayne: Commander, I didn’t know they’d need to move Arrow. When did Sturgis give the word?
Nolen was at this point watching Arrow twirl slowly and carefully, as if by a delicate and practiced hand. It maneuvered gracefully, giving the entire party a very good look of its contoured backside. He spoke in a distant tone that conveyed clearly his confused state.
Hobart: Stergis couldn't, sir. She'd need your command codes. ::eyebrows up:: Unless they reassigned it.
But Shayne would have been told about that. Hell, Hobart hoped he'd have been told about it. With Starfleet you never really knew. But you hoped. And as Shayne’s eyes rapidly dashed between his own and the calmly accelerating Arrow, any hope Nolen might have harbored quickly vanished.
Shayne: But… that’s my ship.
Nolen could only nod in agreement, mouth agape. It was his ship. And it was moving without his orders. Not only was it improper, it should have been impossible.
Shayne: Commander?
Hobart: ::hushed:: Oh fudge.
Nolen saw Arrow deform and distort, but knew that wasn't actually happening to the ship. It was happening to the fabric of space around the ship. But he could tell from the pain and betrayal in his Captain's heart that it might as well have been the Arrow’s hull—every bulkhead and beam—being twisted and mangled before their eyes.
Shayne: Response
Nolen spun on his heels, in a panic. He had to act quickly. Decisively. Anything else, and the Captain would rightly rip that pip from his collar far quicker than he'd managed to put it on. And he knew just the thing to do. The quickest, most decisive action he could take was also a First Officer’s most powerful move.
Delegate.
Hobart: ::yelling:: Zenno!
By now the entire room was whirling with confusion and angst, and Nolen felt himself adrift in a sea of it, treading water. Appropriately, a Bolian appeared to steady him. He could tell the man was grappling with his own crisis of confidence.
Zenno: Response
Hobart: Figure out what happened. Did the cleaners beam back? If not, check with station security. ::snapping his fingers:: What was her name?
Zenno/Shayne: Response
Hobart: Yeah the head lady. Oh, what was her name! ::pulling at his face:: I don't get it. I didn't sense any deception. There was genuine affection!
Zenno/Shayne: Response
Hobart: Yes! Carpenter! ::muttering:: Probably a fake name, but we gotta start somewhere.
Something in Shayne’s head caught Nolen’s attention. He gave the Captain a quizzical look, as if to invite explanation without demanding one. If he wasn't sure, he didn't want to force Shayne into open speculation. And if he was sure, he didn't want to force Shayne to reveal anything he didn't want to reveal just yet.
Zenno/Shayne: Response
Tags/TBC
———
Lieutenant Nolen Hobart
First Officer
USS Arrow (NCC-69829)
A240001NH3