Capt. Shayne: The Right Call?
Randal Shayne
((Deck 1, Captain’s Ready Room))
The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.
His blue chair was comfortable, the bulkheads were warm yet sterile, and there was a general air of newness all around. The slight stench of industrial sealant and conduits wafted through the gently humming air vents, and all about the ship, the intoxicating aroma of new beginnings and approaching possibilities had kicked the crew into a high gear. Whether they were resupplying, running diagnostics or simply tapping buttons to look busy, the spirit of the Khitomer was rich.
For Shayne’s part, the only thing tempering his enthusiasm was the losses they were still operating through. But he oughtn’t permit that to drag him low; excitement this intense was a commodity unrivaled in a CO’s eyes, and if anyone saw him despondent, it would ripple throughout the ship like a bad case of gas in a turbolift.
So he resolved to smile, and was delighted to find that it only took some effort, and not the quivering strain that was usually called upon.
The door chimed, and Shayne stepped back from the small shelf he’d just finished installing. Its purpose would be known shortly, but this was one conversation that he wouldn’t even try to be funny about.
Shayne: Come on in.
The doors parted, and the Chief Engineer stepped through, sharp eyes and handsome features striking in their youth, and yet their embodied age. If there hadn’t just been a crisis across the Federation that had assimilated anyone under a certain age, the captain would be hard pressed to deny that there was no such thing as a young Starfleet officer.
Dewitt: Response
The doors shut behind the goldcollar.
Shayne: Connor, thanks for coming here. A couple pieces of business first; I’d like to launch in a matter of hours. Will we be ready in that time frame?
PADDs were good, frequent reports were better, but sometimes, Shayne needed to hear it from the people who he trusted with his life. Connor was very much such a man.
Dewitt: Response
Shayne: And the upgrades… how are those looking?
He hadn’t been following the improvements as well as he should have been- the same creative energies that encouraged his crew to tinker were the same draining habits that left him worrying that something would go horribly wrong. But if he feared every time they left port, or opened a hatch, he’d never get anywhere.
Dewitt: Response
Shayne: Good. That’s good. Well, now that that’s out of the way, I didn’t drag you down here just to nag.
He reached down to one of the small cubbies under his desk, and retrieved a small, familiar mahogany box. In it, a green and orange ribbon awaited.
Shayne: Commander, in this past engagement you were invaluable to this ship, the mission and myself. The first officer position is amongst the most challenging, and you conducted yourself with grace, courage and skill. You will be a phenomenal first officer some day, and I know this because you have already been one. As such, please accept the Superior Support Ribbon, and my thanks. Congratulations.
He spoke softly and warmly and extended a hand as he had a hundred times before during ceremonies.
Dewitt: Response
Shayne: I figured you might not appreciate the spotlight for the time being. I hope I made the right call.
Shayne remembered the ribbon he’d received after a mission where he’d been ordered to leave a lonely, desperate, detached girl behind. It still haunted him, and it was why he kept his own ribbon rack well hidden- it was not something he wanted to think about every day.
Dewitt: Response
Tag/TBC…
Captain Randal Shayne
Commanding Officer
USS Khitomer
NCC 62400
G239202RS0