LCDR Nolen Hobart — How Winning Feels
Nolen Hobart
((Captain’s Ready Room, Deck 1, USS Khitomer, En Route to Alpha Trionus II))
Hobart: When we reach Alpha Trionus II, we’ll probably need to organize a landing party. All friendly faces down there, as it’s a Starfleet installation, but you’ll probably be tapped, so that Doctor Ohnari can do her Chiefly duties aboard Khitomer.
Melville-Kilpatrick: Got it.
Shayne: If you can find time, read up on the Sheliak, and the Tholians if you’re not familiar with them.
Hobart’s eyes glanced over at a few PADDs on the Captain’s desk. Still more than four hours out, and the Ensign’s mind radiated confidence. A fresh injection of it into the crew was exactly what they needed. And speaking of…
Hobart: Oh, and make sure you get your Sencha injection. The radiation weapons the Alliance uses are a nasty bit of work, even for Humans. Othin’ll give it to you good, if you ask her nicely.
Melville-Kilpatrick: I'll try to keep that in mind.
Shayne: Very well. The first officer will assign you quarters and your dunnage will be moved there. For the moment you’re dismissed. Oh! And, welcome aboard.
Anxiety grew in the Ensign as he departed. The young man’s exterior was calm and collected enough, but Shayne seemed to see through it about as well as Hobart sensed.
Shayne: Nolen, I think you’re getting a little too good at striking fear into the greenhorns.
Hobart: Well, practice makes perfect, sir.
The Captain shook his head, and Nolen sensed a sour mix of emotions. There was some bemusement, but an undercurrent of something less pleasant. At first, Hobart thought Shayne might have been closer to chastising him than he seemed. Reading emotions was easy, but understanding them was a lot like intercepting signals—it might be possible to understand the transmissions on their face, but without the context behind them, their true meaning might be lost.
Shayne had mixed feelings, that much was clear. But with so much on his plate, how could Hobart possibly guess what he was conflicted about? Unless the man outright told him.
Shayne: The prison. It feels like this is less a matter of what we do, and more a matter of avoiding the same course of action that led us down such a dark path.
Hobart: Well, we're on our way to doing just that, if the Admiral is to be believed.
Shayne shook his head again.
Shayne: This has been gnawing at me ever since they came aboard. Why do we fail? Why here? What’s our undoing?
Hobart: My unvarnished opinion, sir?
Shayne: Response
Nolen raised his eyebrows and hesitated, as if to give the Captain an opportunity to rethink the permission. Hobart's unvarnished opinions were always unconventional, and often controversial.
Hobart: They say we're winning, sir. Right here, right now, we've got them on the ropes. As we fall back, and bleed them, they are smashing themselves against our defenses in a way they can't afford. ::beat:: And I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted.
Shayne: Response
Hobart stepped towards the Captain's window and glanced towards the streaks of light and dark that the ship's physics-bending propulsion system produced. They were virtually motionless, and the universe was warping around them.
Hobart: My point is it doesn't feel like winning, and maybe that's the problem. Starfleet has us on the back foot, letting the enemy take initiative, waiting for the next strike. It hardly matters how desperate the Alliance is, if they keep taking big risks eventually something is gonna break their way.
Shayne: Response
TBC
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Lt. Commander Nolen Hobart
Executive Officer
USS Khitomer (NCC-62400)
A240001NH3