Capt. Shayne: The Time Between
Randal Shayne
((Deck 1, Captain’s Ready Room, USS Khitomer))
The small, stately window that oversaw so much of the ship’s exterior reflected him in its transparency. His uniform jacket lay draped over his chair, the only part of him attending to the ever-present mountain of PADDs that might be manageable for all eternity if he’d just organize them for once. The waistcoat wasn’t exactly light, but without the doubled sleeves, some of the heat that had been building in his chest and collar had dissipated. Indeed, he’d been standing at the window so long, elbow leaning against the raised rim of it, that the chill in the air had begun to penetrate his skin.
Good. The goosebumps were welcome. The cooling was welcome. The total, peaceful stagnation was most welcome of all.
Hours had passed since the briefing. Shayne hadn’t left his ready room since. He just stared out at the night, wondering how much of what they had learned from their guests was prescient, and how much was avoidable.
The door chimed.
Shayne: ::distantly:: …yeah…
The doors slid open and then shut, revealing the dignified visage of Lieutenant Korras, followed closely by Ensign Banks.
Korras/Banks: Response
Shayne: Yes, thank you for coming.
His voice was low and pitched strangely, as if coming to terms with every word. Still he did not turn away from the window.
Banks/Korras: Response
Shayne: It concerns the… guest Lacy. Admiral. Imogen. Whatever you want to call her. She’s a number of decks down, under guard. Right now she is a critical resource, and I have a feeling she’s not giving us the whole story. I’d like for you to interview her. Explore the validity of what she says, see if you can jostle lose any missing context or details.
Shayne worked hard to avoid falling into stereotypical stigmas; it was part of the reason he’d reversed his course on his response to telepaths. But Korras, he suspected, was just the sort of person to get the job done, nuances at all. Little slipped past Starfleet officers, and even less slipped past helmsmen. For her part, Banks had already proven adept at managing multiple issues at once, and would be good (at least in theory) at combining garnered information into the whole, so as to provide a more clear tale of events.
Korras/Banks: Response
((OOC: Happy to answer questions! ))
((Timeskip, under an hour))
The door chimed again, but this time Shayne wasn’t sure who was at the threshold of his abode.
Shayne: Who is it?
In all his career, he didn’t think he’d ever asked that of someone asking permission to enter. Truthfully, the fewer people he could be around, the better.
Hobart: Response
Shayne: Oh. Yeah. Please do.
For the first time in hours, Shayne stepped away from the window. Hobart entered, and from the expression on the first officer’s face, the captain knew he probably looked like crap.
Hobart: Response
Shayne: What’s our ETA?
It wasn’t a particularly interesting question to Shayne- but it would be a good ice breaker. And he had a feeling that things might get icy again before the tension melted.
Hobart: Response
Tag/TBC…
Captain Randal Shayne
Commanding Officer
USS Khitomer
NCC 62400
G239202RS0