CDR Naxell — No One Road
Naxell
((Captain’s Ready Room, Deck 1, USS Khitomer, Deep Space 33 Dry Dock))
This produced a smile and a noteless hum from Commander Naxell. He keyed in a command for a pot of just-boiled water, and waited for a small ceramic pot to whir into existence. Once finished, he gripped the black, handled tray beneath it, and walked carefully back towards his desk.
Naxell: Of course, you're not in Engineering anymore. ::sideways glance, setting the tray down:: Are you, Number One?
Dewitt: ::quietly:: No Sir, I am not.
Connor took the hot water kettle from the tray. Naxell was familiar with ceremonies around tea. Earth had a variety of them. Some were perfunctory, like the washing of cups and dishes. Others were more ornate, full of hierarchy and pretense. His first officer didn't seem to abide by any of them, and simply began to pour, the way one might if given the technical task of “pour tea for two.”
Dewitt: In Engineering the ritual was clear, Sir. You went down the same corridor every shift and you knew what to ask, and what to ask next… and which seam to put your hand on to cure the problem. ::beat:: In this chair, the ritual is different. It is letting other people do their walks down the corridor. Trusting that the Chief Engineer is doing his and the Lieutenant in damage control is doing hers. ::pause:: I’m not good at that.
Naxell: Yet.
Dewitt: I have caught myself, more than once this past week, halfway down a corridor I did not need to be in. ::looking up to Naxell with a thin smile:: I guess this is the first time I’ve said that out loud to anyone above my rank.
As steam rose from the teacups, Naxell sat gently back down into his chair. He recognized Dewitt’s struggle. It was a natural and confounding part of formal induction into the command ranks, just as it was natural and confounding in finding oneself in the spotlight to suddenly have no idea what to do with one's hands. Nothing had truly changed when Lt. Commander Dewitt went from leading Khitomer's Engineering Department to leading the Khitomer, or when Lt. Commander Naxell was elevated from the Peerless’s Chief Science Officer to its First.
And yet, nearly everything had changed.
Naxell: Naming a thing is a prerequisite to addressing it, I've found.
Dewitt: I think the tea is part of figuring that out, Sir. It’s a new ritual for a new job. ::pause:: How did you manage this transition? Have you been thrown into it like I feel I have?
Naxell: “Manage,” he says!
The Denobulan gave his XO a wry smile. He didn't mean to tease, but rather to express his genuine surprise. He had to remind himself that Dewitt didn't have the benefit of serving as Second Officer, shadowing an experienced First Officer for years.
Dewitt: Response
Naxell: It's perfectly alright, Number One. This isn't something I managed. It won't be something you manage. It's something you'll embrace.
Dewitt: Response
He sat forward and picked up a teacup, peering down into it. The light refracted off the faintly coolers water as it cooled, forming small, bright swirls to his eye. His thoughts went back to the viewscreen, and the thermal filter Lieutenant Semara applied over the imagery of the cloud. She was a Second Officer, shadowing a First, and he hoped she was learning well.
Naxell: ::after a sip:: You already have everything you need, Connor. Your experience, your wisdom, your humility—these are the tools of a good leader. How to balance them? How to apply them? You'll find out the same way the rest of us did. By making mistakes. By finding success. By sharing your crew’s joy, and bearing their pain. ::setting his tea down, waving a grand dismissively:: That's your destination, the route you take hardly matters.
Dewitt: Response
TBC
——— ●●● ———
Commander Nax-Ellarneii-Tellargo
Commanding Officer
USS Khitomer (NCC-62400)
A240001NH3