LtCmdr Connor Dewitt - Synthesis Through Completion (Part I)

[Tim]

((Museum Row, Dangan Prime, Alpha Isles))

The cobblestones beneath Connor’s boots were too clean. Museum Row felt like a place that had decided history was best viewed behind glass rather than survived in it. Connor wondered if they were right.

C. Dewitt: Good to see you somewhere that isn’t falling apart around us.

The words were lighter than the memory behind them.

Nicholotti: Indeed it is. I dare say that we didn't let even that fall apart though.

Connor felt a small shift in his chest at that. She was right.

The station had been a ruin. Smoke, shattered plexi, red-streaked deckplates. Falling apart in every Engineer’s book. But they had held it. People had walked away. Maybe that was the metric that mattered. Not the damage, but the survival. The survival of people and ideals.

Maybe that was a shift he needed to make. Being less about what broke and more about what endured.

Naxell: I’ve read the reports of the siege. Hairy business, and a torpedo detonation? It’s a marvel anyone survived at all. ::half a smile:: Not exactly the most welcoming territory to serve in.

Connor glanced briefly at his new captain. Reports did not capture the weight of debris in your hands. Or the sound of a cleaning bot trying to tidy the aftermath of war. Shayne had not read those reports, he had written them.

It was only now that Connor realized that trust had not been assigned. It had been built, layer by layer, through torpedo impacts, battles, and the quiet hours after when no one else was looking. He briefly remembered the Observation Lounge at Deep Space 9 when Shayne had drank a beer with him. Not talking for an hour.

Trust had been built through disagreements that had not fractured command. Through decisions that had cost something and still been right. Shayne had stood in the smoke with them. Bled with them. Stayed. Until now. Connor had followed him into situations most officers would have questioned twice.

Blindly, at times.

He only realized now how much of that confidence had come from shared history. From having survived the same fire. He did not have that with Naxell. Not yet.

The Denobulan’s tone was measured, composed, intellectual. Competent, undoubtedly. But Connor felt the absence of shared scars.

Nicholotti: Fortunately for you, the Isles may be ever so slightly less caustic at this given point in time.

Naxell: With any luck, we’ll find a way to keep it that way.

Connor’s jaw tightened.

C. Dewitt: Luck has nothing to do with it.

His voice wasn’t sharp, just steady. He briefly felt the urge to apologize for the correction. Naxell was not responsible for Shayne leaving. He was not responsible for not carrying the same scars as Connor did. Then Connor stayed quiet.

Nicholotti resumed walking, and Connor fell into step beside her. Naxell joined them easily, umbrella angled just enough to avoid brushing passersby.

Nicholotti: They had me here for a symposium on the ambassadorial corps, something about the next generation of diplomacy on the far reaches of our borders. Hopefully there are some younger ones who have taken and learned something from it, but as of now I am to report aboard the Khitomer.

There was a pause.

Nicholotti: Which I understand is not here.

Naxell: No, ma’am. The Khitomer is undergoing repairs, and most of its crew have taken leave aboard the Indulgence. I decided to join them aboard, rather than wait for them at spacedock. ::looking to Dewitt:: I think there’s far more to be gained in meeting the crew than the ship that carries them.

The word repairs sent a quiet shiver down Connor’s spine. He had not seen the final review of the yard’s work. Had not signed off on the integrity scans. For years, he had been the one crawling through conduits and checking stress tolerances. Now the Khitomer was being rebuilt without him standing over the schematics.

And when they returned, he would not even be the one approving the final engineering report.

C.Dewitt: The Khitomer’s resilient, Sir. She’ll perform her duties.

He kept his tone controlled feeling the urge to add something.

C. Dewitt: Her crew is the key to what she can do.

Naxell nodded and Connor hoped the man would not take his distance for desinterest or refusal. There was just a lot. All at once. As usual.

Nicholotti: Then I guess you are stuck with me in the interim.

Naxell smiled.

Naxell: Delightful, Admiral. ::mild concern:: We’re only scheduled to be here for the day. I’ll secure a cabin for you aboard the Indulgence.

Connor’s mouth twitched.

C. Dewitt: You may want to avoid the receptionist on the main deck. ::glancing at Naxell:: Unless you’re fond of last-minute bookings in compartments roughly the size of a maintenance locker.

Nicholotti: Sounds like a good plan. I'm not one for pleasure cruises normally, but I suppose a means to an end will have to work.

There was a nod from the new CO of the Khitomer as he changed the subject.

Naxell: Have you had much time for the museums, Admiral?

Connor let the question pass him by. He had no intention of volunteering for a guided tour of interstellar governance. He simply was not in the mood.

The Admiral shrugged and shook her head.

Nicholotti: With he symposium, not really. Most of what I have been able to sneak away and take a look at has been related to government. I hear that is only a tiny part of the many unique topics covered here though.

Naxell: Eclectic, yes. ::smiling:: In my experience there’s always at least one new thing to learn, and there’s always a little bit of joy in finding it.

NT/TBC

LtCmdr Connor Dewitt
First Officer
USS Khitomer
A239901CD3