The Welcome Wagon, It's Coming Around

Posted on Dec 21, 2016 @ 7:35pm by Captain Michael Turlogh Kane

Mission: Aftermath

"THE WELCOME WAGON, IT'S COMING AROUND"
(Continued from "These Hands")

****************************
****************************

Location: USS Phoenix, Spacedock
Stardate: [2.16]1221.2330
Scene: Sickbay


The day had been busy, with a couple of new department heads coming aboard and the ship beginning to fill up with the 'regular' crewmembers - the ranks of enlisted personnel without whom no starship could operate. They did all the menial and everyday tasks aboard the ship, working in every department to keep the ship running smoothly day-to-day. They were the unsung heroes who died anonymously and who called officers 'sir'.

Speaking of officers, some of them had come aboard too. Kassandra Thytos and her marines were back aboard, billeted in the bowels of the drive section, being put through their paces in a new series of training drills in case a couple of weeks' shore leave on Earth had made them rusty. There was a new proprietor of the Vulgar Tribble - Kane still hated the name - and it was a Bonviva. (There was more than one of them, he thought bleakly) John Doe was aboard some other starship now, but that was they way life went in the fleet - even though Kane and John Doe had known each other for fifteen years, no two paths went through life undivergent. There was a new Operations officer wandering around somewhere too.

No news on an ExO, no news on a chief engineer or a pilot or a ship's doctor. If Starfleet was going to keep up its usual efficiency, they'd dump a dozen new officers on the Phoenix in the twenty-four hours prior to launch and hope that everyone and everything gelled together. Shakedown would be done live, hands-on, and the errors would come rolling in.

Maybe he was being too cynical. One of the new assistant medical officers had come aboard and followed proper protocol by presenting herself to him for the once-over, which Kane respected. Although he cultivated the image of a distant authority figure, it was hard not to empathise with his staff, especially those who had gone through so much together in the past two years. In their own way, they were the finest crew in the fleet.

Not that he'd ever tell them that. They'd get too comfortable.

The doors to sickbay hissed open, and Kane walked into an empty room. There was nobody here and everything was shut down - the biobeds were offline, all desktop terminals blank and inert, all shelves and lockers empty. The bigger the starship, the bigger the sickbay, and the Phoenix's was larger than most. Spread out over an open plan that took up half the deck, there was an operating room, a clinic, an intensive care unit, a recovery ward - all the important hospital locations that could be transferred onto a starship.

Then he heard it. In an adjoining back-room, the computer was speaking. Kane strained his ears and heard it rattle off a list of biological samples, all beginning with the letter A. The main computer was online, he knew, it just had nothing to do with most of the ship empty, and was in power-save mode on many decks. In between the computer's voice, he could hear Sofia Andersson murmuring replies, usually along the lines of "Check. Next."

Kane crossed the floor as quietly as he could. Sofia was standing inside the main medical supply room, her back to the doorway, cross-referencing the stock with a list on her PADD.

Kane watched her for a moment, trying to reconcile the shy young woman in his ready room with the Neo-Essentialist supporter her service record portrayed. The Neo-Essentialists were defeated, true, and all their senior members in Starfleet were now languishing in prisons across the Federation, but could it be that there were thousands of regular rank-and-file members, perhaps like Sofia Andersson, who were guilty of nothing except being swayed by an argument? The Damoclean blade that hung over the Federation during the recent crisis had cut two ways, and now Humans were pushing back against the attempts of the other Founding Worlds to rein in their political power. That, in itself, was a Humanity-First thing to do, so it wasn't like everyone's nose was completely clean. Maybe it was idealism, not ideology, that was to blame for young officers like Sofia Andersson throwing their lot in behind the Neo-Essentialist regime.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you!" he said loudly, to get her attention.

Sofia screeched like a bird and jumped so high she nearly brained herself on the ceiling. The PADD clattered to the deckplate, its screen cracked. "Captain!" she gasped, turning to see him. "I was concentrating, I didn't know you were there - "

Kane came forward, picked up the PADD, and held it out for her to take. He felt awfully guilty for making her jump like that. "I uh, just stopped by because - " he thought quickly - "I didn't sleep so well last night. I have a headache."

"Oh." Sofia shook herself out of her reverie. "Take a seat, I'll be right there."

Kane watched while she tidied up and hastily fumbled around for a medical tricorder. He sat down on the edge of one of the biobeds as she cautiously approached him.

"I'll just run a scan," she said, activating the device and orbiting it around his head.

Kane watched her carefully. There was a lot of internalising going on with her, it was clear to see, and he fleetingly wondered how it was going to affect her interpersonal relationships. It was one thing to think you had a debt to repay society, but another thing to be so caught up in guilt that you couldn't take the first step forward.

"You've been to Paris recently," he said suddenly. "What's it like?"

Sofia had been concentrating on the medical scan. Her eyes fluttered. "It's a ruin. Miles of silent empty streets, drifting mounds of ash, that sort of thing. It's a huge necropolis."

"What the Neo-Essentialists wrought," said Kane pointedly.

That evoked a reaction, but she swallowed it quickly. "Yes."

Kane touched her hand for a moment, holding the medical tricorder away from him. "Ensign, the ship is filling up right now, but in the near future there are going to be over eight hundred people aboard. You'll have dozens of colleagues in the Medical department to get to know. All of them are going to be drawn from a fleet that has spent the last two years fighting the Neo-Essentialists, and all of them are going to come in here with pre-conceived notions about the new assistant chief medical officer. Make no mistake about it, you're in for a rough time of it. People are going to be talking about you behind your back, they're going to deliberately avoid you, they're going to keep you at arm's length, and one or two of them might even be rude right to your face." He gestured to the tricorder. "You can switch that off. I'm feeling much better."

Sofia did as she was bid, but didn't seem able to life her eyes to meet his. "I just want a second chance, Captain."

Kane reached out and took her by the shoulders. "Life always gives you a second chance, Ensign. It's called tomorrow. You can spend your whole life regretting what you've done, trying to put the pieces together, over-analysing the different hypotheticals and what-ifs, or you can just leave the pieces on the floor and walk away. You're aboard this ship because you've proven you're capable of executing the duties of a medical officer aboard a starship, not because nobody knew where to put the regretful Neo-Essentialist." He put his hands behind his back. "You do realise that we don't have a chief medical officer yet, correct?"

Sofia looked up. "I didn't - "

"No First Officer, no Chief Engineer, no pilot, not much of anything right now," said Kane. Then, out of the blue, he winked at her. "I'm promoting you to Chief Medical Officer of the Phoenix until Starfleet assigns one to us. You'll be responsible for arranging a complete medical examination of each of the ship's senior crew as they report for duty, and I shall expect a briefing from you prior to launch regarding the same." He paused to let it sink in.

"Understood, Captain," Sofia answered readily.

"Good. I'll leave you to it, then." Kane didn't envy her the weeks ahead, but she was going to get nowhere by keeping her head down. 'Sink or swim' was a drastic kind of adage to implement, but it seemed apt here - if Sofia Andersson was ever going to be accepted as one of the crew of the Phoenix, then she would have to work alongside them, amongst them, dealing with all the negativity that was coming her way, and rising above it. Nobody could do that for her, but in time, he hoped, who she was then would become less important than who she was now.

Another sibling in the dysfunctional family, he thought, and chuckled to himself as he left sickbay.

**********************************************

Scene: Captain's Ready Room


A little later, Kane found himself back on the bridge. More and more of the crew were beginning to report for duty - there were now several hundred people aboard the Phoenix, settling down and getting used to their new surroundings.

And one of them was waiting for him. Cadet Lynette Ryan - no, make that Ensign Lynette Ryan - was patiently waiting by his ready room door, the lone inhabitant of the empty bridge. She had obviously been looking around at everything - some of the consoles were online, others inert - but mustn't have had time to start pushing buttons.

"Congratulations on achieving your commission, Ensign Ryan," said Kane, gesturing for her to enter the ready room. "Starfleet have released you from custody and assigned you to be one of the Phoenix's assistant chief engineers, yes?"

"Yes, sir," said Lynette, waiting while Kane crossed the room, sat down at his desk and opened her service record. Gold was a new colour on her, and suited her well.

"You've been assigned quarters, some personal space, and you've got your pet cat," said Kane, good eye running down the service record. He looked up at her, deadpanning "Oh, and you're also an expert at computer systems. I'm sure you'll fit right in."

He stood up. "We don't have a Chief Engineer yet. Until we are assigned one, you and your colleagues will be responsible for systems tests of this ship from stem to stern. Starfleet is indicating that we will be lauching in a few weeks, and I don't want the engine falling off en route to our destination. Have you any questions?"

"No, sir," said Lynette. "I don't think so."

Kane paused a minute. Like Sofia Andersson, Lynette Ryan was coming back to work from a traumatic couple of months, and she was likely feeling a little lost. It was safe to say that neither of them had had the most routine start to their Starfleet careers. "Ensign," he said slowly, "the first few weeks of active duty might be difficult for you, especially once the ship gets underway. If you're willing to take advice from me, then try to remember that you're not alone. Each and every commissioned officer on this ship had a first tour of duty, and each and every one of them felt isolated, uncertain, and in the way. Discipline and routine and experience will get you through it. Listen to your colleagues, do your work, and put the hours in. Life in Starfleet is not easy. It can be quite challenging, but it might also be the most rewarding time of your life."

Lynette seemed happy. "Yes, sir."

"Dismissed," Kane said, indicating for her to leave.

He sat back in his seat as the doors hissed closed, trying to remember when he had ever been that young and inexperienced, and allowed himself a little private smile when he remembered.

****************************************
****************************************

NRPG: Welcome aboard, noobs! The Captain's door is always open... except it isn't. Please bother the ExO with any personal crises, that's what they're there for ;)


Jerome McKee
the Soul of Captain Michael Turlogh Kane
Commanding Officer
USS PHOENIX


"He speaks an infinite deal of nothing!"
- Shakespeare's "The Merchant of Venice", Act 1, Scene 1.117

*******************************************
*******************************************