Abigail Scott was nervous. She sat outside the office of the director of engineering operations on Montana Station, slowly losing her mind. She had been working with the director, Commander Miados, for the last year. The Trill had requested Scott’s transfer and quickly put her in one of the many deputy director positions in training. After an initial shaky start, Abigail had found her footing, and the evaluations since then had been positive. Being called to the director’s office called all of that supposed progress into question.
“Lieutenant Commander? Commander Miados will see you now,” Scott fought the urge to jump up and scamper into the office. Instead, she walked through the door and stood at attention, barely holding her rising anxiety at bay.
“Lieutenant Commander Abigail Scott, reporting as requested.” Her breathing threatened to come in gasps, and she forced herself to breathe carefully. Miados did not suffer fools or people who couldn’t breathe well. Scott clenched her teeth, forcing her eyes to remain in contact with her commanding officer’s eyes, which stared back at her, unreadable.
“You can relax, Abby,” Miados had a calm voice that could soothe the worst worries, and Abigail was thankful for it in this moment. “You’re here because I have something I’d like to show you.” The director stood and headed for the door, “Come along. It’ll be worth it, I promise.” She followed Miados into the busy corridor and up a flight of stairs into the engineering command center, and then into a turbolift that rocketed up, settling with a ‘ding’ and the doors opened to reveal the observation lounge for one end of the internal space dock. Scott felt her breath catch in her throat. She had spent much of her off-shift time in this cathedral of engineering, watching ships come and go. Taking notes, researching ship classes, and reading about the latest research and development. There was something fascinating about ship design.
She had stopped to stare at all the ships at dock and startled when Miados called for her to follow. Dashing ahead, she caught up, fighting to catch and control her breath. Again. “This way, Commander.” Abigail pushed through a growing crowd, having a hard time seeing what was ahead. There was annoyance, and there was annoyance. This moment was becoming more of the latter than the former. Suddenly the crowd split open as Miados walked casually up to the window, hands behind her back and a sly smile playing at her lips. “What can you tell me about her?”
Abigail drew closer, her eyes widening as she took in the sleek and familiar lines of the starship that sat before them. “Plymouth class. Fresh off the line. Looks like the scout variation, so she’ll pack a punch out in the rimward. They’re a solid class, Commander. Usually supporting the bigger and badder ships, or doing some investigation work in a sector just out of reach. They’ve got that classic starship look.” She turned, facing Miados. “I can go through her specifications as well.”
Miados chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. “No, that’s not necessary. Commander, three months ago Commodore Fontana asked me to identify officers within my department and send a list. Recently, Fleet Captain Crawford asked me to sit down and review that list again.” Scott felt her face grow warm at the implication but refused to believe whatever Miados was suggesting. Her name was definitely not on that list. Scott’s face bloomed a deeper shade of red when the commander handed her a PADD. “You were among the top candidates, Commander Scott.”
Abigail slowly looked down at the PADD and read out loud in a whisper the highlighted lines. “Lieutenant Commander Abigail Scott has exhibited the quality of building functioning teams and mentoring them beyond their initial capabilities. Her progress in the last year has been nothing short of extraordinary. Each of the teams she has overseen has experienced a dramatic improvement in performance in drills and real-world scenarios. Her addition to the engineering and operations teams has been noted and noticed. It is my recommendation that Lieutenant Commander Abigail Scott receive command of her first…”, Scott snapped up, her eyes fluttering open in shock. “Commander?”
Miados was nonchalantly observing the ships, shuttles, and operations moving around the dock. “Always finish the assigned reading.”
Scott turned back to the PADD, reading, “…receive command of her first starship, the USS Southampton, Plymouth-III subclass.” Shaking her head in disbelief, she turned her head to stare at the ship Miados had asked her to review. “You’re serious.” Her throat felt as if something was trying to climb out of it, and her eyes glistened. “Commander Miados…I don’t know what to say.”
The director cracked a smile, turning to face her subordinate. “Thank you is a good start.”
Scott meekly replied, “Thank you.”
Miados gave her a gentle tap on the shoulder and started walking back the way they had come. Scott hurriedly followed her, remembering that Miados was many things, but never a slow walker. The director explained, “Fleet Captain Crawford approved it three days ago, and Commodore Fontana signed off on it this morning. I asked each department for a list.”
Scott was momentarily confused. “A list…oh, a list for my crew.” The words sounded strange to her, and the realization that she was about to become a commanding officer hit her. Her steady pace with Miados stumbled a little, but she set her teeth on edge and pushed forward.
“You’re going to need help, Commander Scott.” They both stepped into the turbolift, and it dove into the depths of Montana Station. Miados cracked one last smile. “It’s a good thing you’ve got me.”
