As the officers of the Cygnus stepped out of the Conference Room, Bane himself stepped over to the command chair. It was the first time he had the opportunity to test it out. He slowly sat down and leaned back in it and let out a breath of air he didn’t realize he was holding. It was a moment that every Commanding Officer held near and dear to their heart; the first time they sat down in the Captain’s Chair for the first time of any ship they commanded. He closed his eyes and leaned back, letting his back come in full contact with the chair, from his shoulders to the small of his back, getting the full experience of The Chair. His arms went up to the armrests, where they laid gently. His feet went out a few inches, where he crossed them at the ankles, right ankle over left. 

For a moment, he sat like this, taking in all of the feeling of The Chair, getting the feel of the ambient noises around him, the feel of the vibration of the deck plating, the chatter of the crew on the bridge, the soft beeping and chirping of the various computer stations around him being manipulated. He could make out the two stations in front of him, putting in their commands and controls like a duet. Behind him, he could hear the officer at Tactical (was it Lieutenant Gore? He wasn’t sure) pecking furiously at the control panel. It sounded almost like heavy metal, what with the base of the thumping that the arch resonated with each time a command was put in. At the Science Station further back, it was almost like a symphony of chirps and beeps and buzzes that the computer made out. Then there was Engineering. The sounds it made from the Engineering Officer manning it was the sweetest music to his ears. It was almost like Classical Bajoran, from the First Millennium. Of course, he was a bit biased, being an Engineer himself at one point.

As he sat here listening and feeling, it dawned on him that his back was incredibly uncomfortable. He adjusted once. Twice. Three times! It also occurred to him that his fingers were not on the control panels of each arm of his chair. He opened his eyes, adjusted again to try to get comfortable (his butt was starting to hurt, and he’d only been sitting for a minute, maybe two, tops) and looked at the arms. The control panels on each arm were about 4 centimeters out of reach for his normal resting position. That would have to be fixed, and for the love of the Prophets, so would this damned chair!

He stood up, unable to bear the comfort level (or lack thereof) any longer. “Conn, please set a course for 146 mark 003. Take us on a port elliptical course from present location to destination to avoid insertion of Cardassian space. Make your speed Warp 6.2.” As he put his hand on the Ensign’s shoulder at Conn, he said, “Engage.” 

“Aye, sir,” came the reply from the Ensign. Bane could feel the vibrations change just slightly, spooling up. For a moment, it felt like it was about to become much more, then the vibrations went back to normal. From the viewscreen, everyone could see they were at warp, speeding to their destination with history.

“Lieutenant Lisald,” Bane said. “I hate that chair. Get it replaced, and make sure it fits my body specifications. I’ll be in my office if you need me. Lieutenant Gore, you have the Bridge.”

OFF

Bane Plase, Captain

USS Cygnus, Commanding