LCDR Nolen Hobart — New Faces, New Spaces

[Nolen Hobart]

((Conference Room 3-D, Deck 3, Deep Space 33))

Hobart: Commander Stergis has placed all non-essential Arrow personnel on lockdown, as a precaution. In case we're compromised. So this is it, this is our team. Any questions?

"Any questions," was, of course, a farcical thing to ask in this situation. Questions were about all they had. Had he left anything out? What else was there to cover? He felt a chill run down someone's spine, and his own mind was racing when the Captain answered from behind him.

Shayne: None from me. Are all hands ready to pursue this?

Waters: I have a question, sir. But I'd like to handle it privately, if possible.

Hayley: Response

After a lull, Lieutenant Zenno spoke up, his Bolian mind filled with a sense of reluctant duty. Some things had to be said, even if no one wanted to hear them, and before the words had even left the man's blue lips, Hobart was bracing himself.

Zenno: Sirs. We all realize that this may change moment to moment, but as of right now, is this a recovery mission or a destroy mission? Many decisions we may make may hang on that guidance.

Lt. Commander Hobart looked to his CO. There was the truth, and there was what the crew needed to hear. The truth was they had no way to know. Was this a bunch of hotshot Cadets on a joyride? A hazing ritual for some ancient pan-galactic bounty-hunting clan? Until some of the questions he'd posed to the crew were answered, how could he say for sure what kind of mission this was? For all they knew, the Arrow was already being stripped for parts in a space junkyard.

But Shayne did not hesitate, and Hobart made mental note of the man's example.

Shayne: It’s a recovery mission, but I’ll sooner see her destroyed than see her in the hands of pirates.

Nolen caught a glance from Connor. From his friend, he sensed a pang of regret, or mourning. From others, he sensed fear. Also... hunger? They'd all left things on that ship. His cufflinks, for example. Heirlooms. Sandwiches. But Hobart found himself not worked up over them. He gave Dewitt a barely perceptible nod in acknowledgment. As if to say, "I understand, don't worry." There was plenty to worry about, Nolen knew, but it worrying wouldn't actually help matters, much.

Zenno: Understood, Captain.

The other man in red scanned the room again with his bright blue eyes.

Shayne: Other questions? 

Dewitt: If we know where the Arrow went and what happened, how do we get there?

Shayne turned to look at Hobart, and suddenly Nolen had the sensation that he was facing a pop quiz. He also felt that turning down Command School at the Academy was a terrible choice. Fortunately for Dewitt's question, Shayne's faith in his new XO, and Hobart's own ability to ever credibly show his face again, Hobart's acute deductive faculties were pretty good at playing catch-up.

When they'd arrived at DS33, as was his habit, Nolen had looked at all the starships near the station. To him, getting the lay of the "tritanium landscape" was as important as organizing the evacuation of the ship. To the untrained eye, the space was filled mostly with unremarkable freighters and other civilian transports. But he knew even those had value. On the frontier, one's ability to barter for equipment could be the difference between life and death, and knowing the kinds of spare parts a ship might have (and might be willing to part with, for a price) was a core part of survival at the margins of Federation civilization. And so, of course, he'd noticed the New Orleans II-class heavy frigate parked outside. He'd brushed it off, because colonists like him never bothered to try to barter with Starfleet. They usually asked too many questions. But the presence in the room of an extra four pips, affixed to a third red collar made Nolen realize then and there that Captain Shayne had bartered, indeed.

Hobart: ::gesturing to Shayne and Hayley:: We've got a ride.

It was presumptuous, but he assumed the Captain wouldn't have dragged a peer all the way to the conference room if it wasn't already a sure thing. When the Captain struck an almost obsequious pose, however, Nolen clenched his jaw, fearful he'd made a miscalculation and committed a faux pas.

Shayne: Captain, with your permission, we’ll onboard your vessel and set a pursuit course as fast as she can take us.

Hayley: Response

Of course! There was nothing to be afraid of! At least, not in the social interaction of the thing. The Captain nodded in appreciation, and turned to face the room again.

Shayne: XO, see to it all senior staff are aboard ASAP. If you need to bring anything, grab it and go.

Hobart nodded to the Captain and addressed the room.

Hobart: Transporters in 15 minutes. See you there.

Dewitt: ::addressing Hayley:: We'll just need to transfer station sensor logs to the ...

Hayley: Response

Dewitt: ... of course. The Khitomer. I'll coordinate with your Chief Engineer to analyze those together with your ship's sensor data.

Hayley: Response

As conversations turned low and quiet, and thoughts turned towards the task ahead, Nolen pulled out his PADD and headed for the door. He wanted to review the list of personnel who were cleared to leave the station, and maybe lobby for a few last-minute additions. At the same time, he wanted to catch his breath, because it felt to him that he'd been holding it. As he stepped into the mostly-empty corridor, he bent over and blew out a sigh. The rush of air failed to fully expel his anxieties.

Fortunately, he didn't have long to himself. The sound of the conference room doors opening again forced his self-doubt to the margins of his mind. Even if it hadn't, the fact that Connor nearly bowled him over probably would have..

Dewitt: Well, you picked quite a first day, Sir. ::gentle smile::

Nolen glared and held up a finger.

Hobart: Knock it off with the "sir" schtick. ::standing upright:: If I weren't an empath, I might have thought this was all an elaborate prank.

As they headed down the corridor together, Nolen thought back to the way they used to be, mere days ago. A pair of Engineers. And now he'd leap-frogged his best friend to fill in as XO in the wake of Commander Adyr's departure. He sensed that Connor's mind was elsewhere, too.

Dewitt: I'm sure we'll get enough speed out of the Khitomer.

Hobart: New Orleans II-class. Got a slipstream drive. Once we know where to point her, we'll catch up in a few hours.

It was then that Hobart finally realized exactly how desperate the situation could have been. Had the Khitomer not been there, it was unlikely they'd be able to ever catch the Arrow. 

Dewitt: Well, I learned from the best when it comes to dubious strategies to increase the speed of a vessel.

Nolen stepped in front of Connor and held up a hand to stop him.

Hobart: All we gotta do is strap in. Don't futz around with somebody else's ship. ::muttering:: I gotta stop teaching you things.

((Timeskip, a few minutes later, Bridge, Deck 1, USS Khitomer))

Lieutenant Commander Hobart liked the interior of the ship, but he couldn't help but notice how different it felt from its exterior. Inside, the Khitomer was all dark grays and maroons, lined with blue and gold-hued LCARS displays and lit by stark, cool white overhead panels. The seating on the bridge were well-apportioned red and tan leather-looking chairs. When he was told he was leaving Engineering for the Bridge, this was not the kind of place he imagined with dismay. But this? Would have been a decent trade.

Outside, by contrast, the hull burned a bright white, which spoke to Nolen's vague recollections of Earth's early attempts at space exploration. Maybe it was intended by Starfleet's designers as just such a nod, but to Hobart's eye it looked like the ship was afraid to get dirty. It felt ostentatious, but if he paid attention to the ship's interior, he could forget the exterior, for now. He made a mental note that if he ever got command of a ship like this, the first order of business would be to make it look like it was ready for business

From Shayne's mind, however, the (former?) XO detected only a mild sense of awe as the Captain stepped onto someone else's Bridge.

Shayne: Mr. Hobart, status report. All senior staff aboard?

Nolen pulled out his PADD again to double-check. He'd given the crew fifteen minutes, but they hadn't needed ten. Everyone was ready to go get their ship back.

Hobart: Yessir, plus a couple extras, apparently. New additions who arrived just after Arrow left. Stergis felt the risk was minimal in letting them come along.

And given how empty the corridors of the Khitomer had been as he made his way from the Transporter Room, it was a good thing. They were going to need all the hands they could get.

Just then, one of the Bridge's turbolift doors opened and a pair of Ensigns stepped out. Hobart felt the reflections of their moods as they approached the Captain, and consulted his PADD, to confirm.

Shayne: ::not unkindly:: Can I help you?

Campbell/Holtz: Response

Shayne turned to look at Hobart, and Nolen nodded, gesturing at the PADD he'd just reported from. These were the two new arrivals. The Betazoid-hybrid didn't have to wonder at how it felt to them to be reporting to the wrong ship, on account of the right one having been stolen before they had a chance to check in.

Shayne: Do you have your orders with you?

Holtz/Campbell: Response 

Nolen cleared his throat and approached the trio of officers.

Hobart: Captain, I can handle this. Hayley's in the ready room, sir. Asked to speak with you when you got here.

Shayne/Holtz/Campbell: Response

He took the Ensigns's PADDs from the Captain and quickly skimmed their orders. He remembered back to when Shayne had asked for his, some 18 months or so ago. And he found himself wondering just what exactly he was supposed to be looking for. Typos? Starfleet said "Jump," you jumped. He imagined it was some ancient marine Naval tradition that they held to for sentimental reasons.

Hobart: ::looking up at the Ensigns, between them:: Holtz and Campbell, yeah? Okay. Holtz, find Commander MacKenna's team. I wanna say they're in the Astrometrics lab which... ::shuffling PADDs:: ...is supposed to be down on Deck 16.

Hobart's eyebrows climbed up his forehead. That wasn't even the lowest deck on the ship, and it was already more than double the number Arrow had. He checked to make sure he had the right device, and then handed the fresh Science Officer's PADD back to her.

Holtz: Response

Hobart: I'll let Commander MacKenna and Lieutenant Jacin fill you in. ::handing her orders back to her:: Campbell? You're here on the bridge. ::turning around, searching:: Ops is... ::pointing:: Second seat on the right, and straight on 'til morning.

Campbell: Response

With a nod, he handed Campbell's PADD back to him, too. With any luck, they'd soon have a heading, and a reason to request clearance to depart. For now, it was a question of learning their new space, however temporary it might be. His eyes landed on the vacant XO seat, just starboard of the center chair. He considered helping himself, but thought better of it. They were guests, after all. So instead he stood in the center of the compartment and rocked on his heels, awkwardly.

Bridge: Response

TAGS/TBC

———

Lt. Commander Nolen Hobart

Executive Officer

USS Khitomer (NCC-62400)

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