((Admin Offices))
“So, what do you think about the new Ensign? We got two priority requests for Yeoman today, can he handle some light admin support?” LCdr Harry Paskalis asked the Chief.
“He seems keen enough, haha, who are the requests from?”
“The Shipyard Operations Directors wants one that they promise they will share, and the Promenade Security team needs one for a few days because of all the displaced and missing persons cases.” Harry shrugged.
“Well, what he doesn’t know, he’ll learn. Might as well put him to work,” the chief replied.
“Alright, send him over to see me before he heads off shift chief.” The old Greek sat down behind his desk.
“Yes sir, I’ll look into that Dosarna situation too, figure out why his access and clearance codes were still valid.”
“Bah, don’t worry about that, a friendly Temporal Investigations Division agent who’s been assigned to the station for us to consult with regarding the current situation, answered it for me. Apparently our timeline has been corrupted, and altered in incongruous ways, and that’s another reason the Loom are being drawn to our reality and others. He’s dead but the new one was placed here as if he belonged, with access codes that we never entered into the system, but yet, they’re there. Its gonna take us weeks to scrub the whole network and the all computer records.” Harry could barely wrap his head around it himself, and couldn’t explain it any more succinctly.
“Forget I mentioned it then boss.” The chief remarked, shaking his head before turning to leave.
((Administration Department – Support Section))
“Enter!”
Ensign Aaron Carson quickly entered the office. Remembering his faux pas the first time he met his section head, he did not come to attention, but stood respectfully in front of a slightly cluttered desk. An outside observer would have no doubt who was in charge. “You asked to see me, Senior Chief?”
“How’s your research on the Loom going?”
“Mostly complete, Senior. It’s pretty scary reading about what we know and what we speculate has already happened.”
“Right. Remember, even though you’re in admin, you need to keep abreast of current events. You never know when you’ll be called upon for other duties.”
“Understood, Senior Chief.”
“Which brings us to the subject of this meeting. One of the displaced was the shipyard’s admin officer. As you can imagine, their stack of PADDs is growing and they’ve asked for a yeoman. Normally I’d send over a second class to get ’em caught up, but with that incident this morning, they’re going to be bombarded with questions and paperwork. Some of that will be ‘O’ level reports, so you’re getting the nod. Are you up to it?”
Carson gulped. He did not think he was up to it. This was only his sixth day as a commissioned officer, and he had been aboard Starbase Bravo less than a day. It was too soon. Surely the senior chief realized that.
Then an unexpected wave of calmness pushed back the panic racing through his body. It was a rhetorical question. It was already decided. And he remembered Rule 1 that Senior Chief Finley had given him, what, only four hours ago. “I’ve got your back.” Even though he did not have confidence in his abilities, the senior chief did. That’s all that mattered.
“I won’t let you down, Senior Chief.”
Finley smiled. “That’s what I want to hear. How familiar are you with the admin reports?”
“Not very, Senior. When I found out I was coming here, I went through the Yeoman basic book and I got the course material for the A-school. I’ve only gotten through about a quarter of that, though.”
Score one point for the 1 pipper, thought Senior Chief Finley. New ensigns coming out of the Academy rarely took the initiative to read through the rating basic book. Each basic book was the enlisted introductory manual into the profession–“Yeoman 101,” as it were. And Carson was the first ensign he was aware of getting the A-school material. A-schools were the dedicated 1-2 week courses enlisted members attended when they chose a rating, or profession, teaching them all the skills an entry level person needed to do their new job.
Officers were not expected to be technical experts in their fields, rather the managers and big picture visionaries. Instead of technical training, they had something much more rigorous than schools: qualifications and their professional books. New, eager ensigns usually were desperate to get ahead on their quals and certs. Carson’s study choice indicated that he prioritized competence over expediting his career. He may not be one of the darling fast track graduates, but the majority of those flamed out and burned up. Any earlier doubts Finley had about this new ensign vanished.
“That’s good, Ensign. At least you’re not going in totally blind. And if you get lost, don’t try to wing it. Get help. If you have to, hit me up or the walking encyclopedia.”
“Walking encyclopedia? Oh, you mean T’Plan.”
Finley waved his hand. “Walking encyclopedia, walking library, walking pain-in-the-tush.”
“About T’Plan, Senior. My second day of indoc starts at 0700.”
Finley shook his head. “Forget indoc. You report to Shipyard Central tomorrow. Right now, go see Uncle Harry then get a good night’s sleep so you’re fresh in the morning.”
Carson racked his brain. He did not know the genealogy of any station personnel. Which uncle was he talking about?
The section head saw the wheels spinning in Carson’s head. Of course, Carson had not been here long enough to pick up the nicknames in the department. “Good gods, Ensign! Do you not know your chain of command?”
He watched Carson’s eyes bob and lips move as the young ensign internally recited the station’s chain of command. He knew that Carson had started at the top of the starbase chain, since Uncle Harry was the Number Two man in the department.
About ten seconds passed before Carson’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Deputy Director of Administration, LCDR Paskalis.”
“About time, Ensign. Now go. He’s waiting for you.”
“Yes, Senior Chief. Thank you, Senior Chief.” Carson rushed out of the office.
Before Carson reached the doors, Senior Chief Finley called out one final pearl of encouragement. “Just relax, Ensign. You’re gonna do fine.” Carson paused, only slowing slightly, then nodded as he flowed out of the office.
