What will you do next time, “Captain”? Who will you leave behind? Of course there’ll be a next time. There’s always a next time.
The ping of the door chime startled Khatami, and she glanced at her desk chronometer on her desk to see that she had been standing before her mirror for almost ten minutes. “Time to pull yourself together, Captain,” she said to herself, running her hands down the sides of her tunic to smooth it into place one final time before calling toward the door, “Come in.”
In response to her command the door slid aside to reveal Mog, all but filling the entryway.
“Well,” the burly Tellarite remarked with no small amount of enthusiasm as he stepped into the room, “command colors and braid appear to suit you, Captain. Though I have to say, I miss the skirt.”
Khatami smiled at the remark, one that only a close friend such as Mog even would attempt in the first place. “Captain’s prerogative. I always liked the pants, anyway.” Moving toward her desk, she indicated for the engineer to do the same. “I take it that’s your report?” she asked, noting the data slate in his meaty right hand with a nod.
“Indeed it is,” Mog replied, “and it’s even filed early, I might add.” He dropped his considerable frame into the chair situated in front of her desk. “Everything is green across the board, thanks to the Vanguard maintenance crews. We’re maintaining warp six point five.” Shrugging his brawny shoulders, he added, “I’d push us a bit faster, but between you and me, I don’t think our escort ship would be able to keep up.”
“The Lovell?” Khatami shook her head as she thought of the deceptively decrepit-looking Daedalus-class vessel accompanying them back to Erilon. “From what I’ve read, you shouldn’t underestimate those Corps of Engineers ships or their crews. Engineers with lots of time to tinker, rewire, reroute, and rebuild? If Captain Okagawa says he can keep pace with us even at warp seven or better, I’m not betting against him.” Nodding her head toward the bulkhead and, presumably, in the direction where the Lovellwas traveling somewhere to stern, she added, “Besides, I don’t think Lieutenant Xiong would have gotten aboard that thing if she were going to shake apart on the way.”
Mog laughed. “You’re probably right. In any event, we’ve got two days before we get to Erilon, but we’re ready to go right now. We’ll hit the ground running for sure.”
Khatami nodded in approval. The assignment handed to the Endeavourand the Lovellwas not an easy one: reestablish the research outpost wrecked by the mysterious being which had attacked Captain Zhao and the landing party, while at the same time searching for answers about why the assault had occurred in the first place—preferably without triggering another such incident. While the orders as delivered by Commodore Reyes also included instructions on attempting to find and make peaceful contact with the mysterious alien entity should the opportunity arise, his actual words on the subject had been quite clear: Take whatever action necessary to protect the ships and their crews.
“Lieutenant Xiong and the engineering group have been analyzing the data we collected from…the last time we were here,” Mog said. “Whatever happens this time, we’ll be ready, Captain.”
Releasing a long sigh, Khatami affected what she knew to be a weak smile. “Hopefully, we’ll allbe ready.”
The Tellarite paused a moment, and she noted how his expression seemed to turn sour in response to the remark. His features softened after a moment and he shifted in his chair, and Khatami sensed he might try to change the subject, a suspicion confirmed the instant Mog opened his mouth.
“You know, those were some very nice words that Commodore Reyes shared with the crew yesterday.”
“Yes, they were,” Khatami replied. “He and Captain Zhao were friends for a long time.”
“I meant,”Mog interrupted, “what he said about you.”
Khatami swallowed a lump that materialized in her throat. “I suppose those were nice, too.”
Leaning closer, the engineer locked eyes with her. “Your promotion wasn’t someone’s idea of a grand joke, Atish, and it wasn’t a mistake. I don’t know Commodore Reyes that well, but I’ve seen enough to figure he’s not one to make stupid or ill-informed decisions. He had to have pushed for your promotion in order for it to go through as fast as it did. Would he have done that if he didn’t think you were suited to the job, and that you deserved a chance to prove it to any and all doubters?”
“I didn’t deserve it this way,” Khatami said, shaking her head. “Not at the expense of a good man’s life.”
“You need to stop that kind of thinking right now.” Reaching across the desk, Mog took her hand in his much larger one. “Atish, for your own sake, and the rest of the crew’s, you need to quit agonizing over your last decision and start worrying about your next one, and the ones after that.”
Comforted by her friend’s forthright demeanor, Khatami squeezed the Tellarite’s hand in reassurance. “Thank you, Mog.” Tilting her head as she regarded him, she said, “Actually, it’s my next decision I wanted to talk to you about. I still need to select a first officer, you know.”
“Excellent,” Mog said, his smile revealing a mouth of uneven teeth. “Who do you have in mind?” As the highest-ranking member of the crew after her, he had been serving in that capacity on a temporary basis, but she knew that the added responsibility was taking him away from his primary duties. A decision needed to be made one way or another, in order to best serve the needs of the ship and her crew.
Khatami said nothing, allowing her own smile to communicate her answer, and she watched as the Tellarite’s robust features melted and realization took hold.
“Not me,” he said, his voice containing more than a bit of pleading. “I already have a job.”
“You’ve already shown me you can do it, Mog,” Khatami replied. “This isn’t the time for transitioning in someone new. I need somebody I can trust without question, who knows me and what I expect, particularly now.”
“But I’m not on the command track,” the engineer replied, “never have been. I’m not even remotely qualified to do this full time.” Shaking his head, he added, “Besides, all you’d be getting is a mediocre babysitter, and losing a damn fine engineer.”
“If you do say so yourself,” Khatami said.
Mog nodded. “Of course I say so, myself,” he snapped, his Tellarite ire coming to the fore. Relaxing a bit, his eyes narrowed as he offered another playful smile. “Besides, I look better in red.”
Despite the teasing nature of the comment, Khatami could not help but feel the genuine sting of rejection the words carried.
Evenhe wants to keep some distance from you,the demon whispered.
Apparently realizing that his words might have carried the wrong sentiment, Mog held his hands out in a gesture of entreaty. “Atish, as your chief engineer, I can give you the best-running ship in the fleet, and you know I’m always here if you need support or a confidant. But I’m not suited to command, and we both know that.” Grunting, he replied, “Can you imagine me trying to be nice to admirals and ambassadors? I’d probably end up starting a war.”