Picking an XO was as much a fine art as it was a science. At least in Zach’s estimation. Which meant that he’d given much consideration to the officers currently up for reassignment that met the criteria. There were some really solid officers looking for a spot and he had the advantage that a posting aboard a Lamarr was definitely highly sought after. He’d automatically ignored the three files his father had flagged up for him to look at. All three of them would be in his father’s pocket, which meant that he couldn’t trust them.

He was trying to decide between an up and coming hotshot who reminded him of himself, and an experienced former CO with solid combat experience who’d come back into the fleet after the events of Frontier day, much like his CMO, but then his console cheeped again and he looked up with a frown. There was a new file on the list, an officer who had only just put in for reassignment.

Even though he’d made his mind up on the hotshot—he liked an officer with drive and her record could have been his own, even down to the overbearing parent—but he couldn’t resist opening the new file.

He’d changed his mind before he’d read the first paragraph. Not only did the new candidate have a solid service record, he was actually already here… or rather, he was aboard DS17 already, working his way back to the main sectors for reassignment.

And, Zach’s grin broadened as he looked at the image in the personnel file… when Zach offered him the position of executive officer on the Canterbury, it was guaranteed to piss his father off.

Zach was still grinning as he routed a message to the candidate, asking for a meeting. Then he pushed off from his desk. He still had things to deal with before he could head on over and meet with his potential XO.

______

Day walked into one of the station’s lounges and looked around for the man he was supposed to be meeting; Captain Murphy. He’d only been aboard DS17 for three hours, fifty three minutes and four seconds when the message had come through, and he’d been a little surprised at being contacted so quickly about a new assignment. Usually it took a couple of days before offers began to come in, and he’d been looking forward to a few days to himself.

But then he’d checked on the Canterbury and accepted the offer of a meeting. Which was why he was here now, wondering why Captain Murphy hadn’t just had requested his presence in his ready room, rather than meeting here.

“Ah, Commander Vann, you beat me to it,” a deep voice sounded behind him and Day turned to find that Captain Murphy had followed him through the door.

“By a small margin,” he offered, offering a polite curve of his lips that most people took as a smile.

“Excellent, I can’t stand to hang about, can you? Shall we?” Captain said, with a broad smile as he indicated two stools at the edge of the bar, already moving that way.

Day followed him, as seemed to be expected, watching the smiling captain out of the corner of his eye as they sat. Murphy seemed to be totally at ease, not even a flinch when he’d been confronted with the visible implants on Day’s face and hand.

“Drinks… What’ll it be?” Murphy asked, ready to order, his eyebrow raised.

“Coffee, or a water,” Day replied, not sure what to make of Murphy. So far he seemed amiable and exuberant. Like a happy puppy pleased to see everyone. That couldn’t be the whole story though. No one got to be the captain of a ship like the Canterbury with just ‘niceness’.

“Two coffees it is then,” Murphy grinned at the bartender. “The hard stuff will have to wait for later, after shift.”

He half turned on his stool, forearm resting on the bar as he looked at Day. And there it was, the mask slipped for a fraction of a second and he caught the calculating look from the man beneath the amiable act.

“So… I’m sure you’re aware I’m looking for a executive officer,” he said, and Day nodded. “And I’d like you to consider taking the position.”

He blinked in surprise. “I’m sorry, did you just offer me the assignment?”

Murphy nodded. “Sure did. What do you say?”

Day just looked at him, a small laugh startled out of him. “I thought this conversation would take a little longer, if I’m honest.”

The other man tilted his head slightly, his expression curious. “Why did you think that?”

Day lifted one shoulder slightly. “Normally there are a lot more questions. Especially for someone like me.”

“How so?” Murphy asked, looking up and mouthing thanks to the bartender as she delivered their coffees. He lifted his mug, blowing the steam off the surface as he looked over the rim at Day.

Day reached out for his own mug. Just a touch of the ceramic told him that it was too hot to drink for the moment and he pulled back. Then he waved at his face.

“Mostly I get questions about this and the collective.”

“Uh-huh,” Murphy took a sip of his coffee, winced slightly and put it down quickly. “Too hot for a moment. Okay,” he said, looking directly at Day. “Is there anything you want to tell me about that or you think I should know?”

Relief rolled through him and he shook his head. “Nothing that would impact my ability to do my duty as your executive officer, no.”

Murphy inclined his head. “Then that’s all I need to know. This… meeting was a formality. I’d made up my mind to offer you the position before I arrived. But, given the opportunity I do like to meet the person I’m trusting to have my back out there.”

“And?”

Murphy’s smile grew wider. “And I’m looking at him. You in? Careful, I’m not going to ask a third time.”

Day reached for his mug, and nodded toward Murphy’s. “It’s a suitable temperature to drink. And yes, I’m in.”