Part of USS Constitution: The End, The Beginning

The End, The Beginning – 4

USS Constitution (NCC-91700), Underspace Corridor, Delta Quadrant
Stardate: 78333
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“Captain’s log stardate seven-eight-three-three-three. The Constitution and the rest of the squadron are underway to resume our exploration efforts in the Delta Quadrant. Our destination is the Swallow Nebula region. Our journey through the Barzan wormhole was uneventful, and we are now under escort with a Turei ship to pick up where we left off. In the meantime, breaking in my new crew is becoming more of a challenge than I expected.”

Captain Horatio McCallister could feel his headache worsening as his conversation with his two most senior officers continued. Exasperated at their behaviour last night, he had called them both into his ready room to discuss the matter further. Rubbing his temple, the forty-two-year-old captain had hoped that his new command would be more effortless, but it wasn’t shaping up to be that way.

Before him, on the other side of his desk, his first and second officers sat like a pair of naughty children who had been sent to see the headmaster. Commander Belire Kazlaf gave off an aurora of not being genuinely bothered about the subject matter, just irritated she had been summoned. At the same time, her companion, Commander Thaustin, did exhibit some sense of regret and pain in having this conversation.

“Sir, I don’t understand why we are being chastised over last night’s discussions,” Kazlaf protested. “We weren’t the only ones who allowed the conversation to become-” She paused as she considered her next set of words, “heated.”

McCallister wanted to lose his cool there and then. Instead, he bit his bottom lip. “You honestly don’t see how you allowed the conversation to steer into topics that, at this point, are very raw for many in Starfleet.”

“It’s current, sir,” Kazlaf answered.

“Current?” He repeated in astonishment. Blinking several times, McCallister clasped his hands on his lap. “I’m not sure that is how I would describe it.”

“Shall we not discuss it then, sir?” Kazlaf tested.

Noticing how she was goading him, McCallister sighed. “Commander, I’m not censoring anyone, but I don’t think repeating similar points you raised in the ship’s crew lounge at breakfast a few days ago over dinner was truly needed. Furthermore, I do not appreciate your tone in telling those who served on the Bellerophon that they are fortunate to be serving on the Constitution.”

“But they are, sir, in my opinion,” Kazlaf replied.

“Do you hear yourself, commander?” McCallister challenged her. “You’re whole holier-than-thou point is tiresome and unwarranted. You are this ship’s Second Executive Officer, and I expect you to set the same tone and standard that I set. We are a brand new ship, a new crew, and I don’t need you or anyone else on the senior staff purposefully going out of their way to make anyone on this ship not feel that they are a part of this crew. Am I clear, commander?”

The captain glared at the chief science officer momentarily as she composed herself.

Kazlaf nodded. “I do, sir.”

“If you cannot perform the duties of second officer to my expectations, then I will find someone else who can. Keep your perspectives on who should be and shouldn’t be here to yourself; that is an order. Am I clear again, commander?” McCallister remained focused on her.

“It is, sir.”

“Good; I expect you in the coming days to find a way to repair and resolve any differences you have with anyone else on the senior staff. By the time we arrive in the Swallow Nebula region, I want you and everyone else to be happy and singing from the same hymn sheet. We put on a united front to the entire crew and do not let our differences stop us from carrying out our duties and following the same rules that we all have pledged to follow.”

“I understand, sir,” Kazlaf said with a nod. “And I am sorry.”

“Good,” McCallister looked at her and then told her she was dismissed.

On her way out, she glared at Thaustin as she moved herself in her anti-grav chair.

Once the doors to the ready room were closed, McCallister gave out another huge sigh and got himself up and out of his chair. He wandered to one of the wide windows and placed his right hand against the edge. “Thaustin, I wanted last night to go much better than it did.”

“As did I, sir.” He answered, squirming in his chair and clasping his hands tighter together. His nerves were getting the better of him. “And I am sorry for my actions and comments.”

Snapping, McCallister turned around and looked at Thaustin. “Thaustin, you’re my first officer, but you somehow forgot that last night’s dinner with the senior staff aimed to bring everyone closer. Rather than enable that, your comments and Kazlaf’s only caused more friction. Things would have been much worse if it hadn’t been for our helmsman, doctor and counsellor diverting the topics of conversation. I am not happy, commander.”

“I know, sir, and I am sorry for the part I played,” Thaustin admitted. “I should have gone more out of my way to prevent such awkwardness from happening.”

“You think?” McCallister sarcastically asked as he returned to his desk and sat down. He looked at Thaustin. “Are we going to have a problem?”

“Us?”

“Yes, us,” McCallister confirmed. “Ever since I decided to promote Rubon to lieutenant commander and made the third officer, our relationship has been strained. I know you disagree with it, as does Commander Kazlaf, but at the end of the day, out there,” He pointed towards the door onto the bridge, “I expect you to public support every one of my decisions; otherwise, we have an issue.”

Thaustin shook his head. “We don’t have an issue, sir,” He replied. He conceded that he hadn’t presented himself in the best of light since their reassignment to the Constitution.

“Good,” McCallister said, still snappy. “It is hard enough to deal with supporting a crew that is traumatised from the deaths they’ve experienced, as well as those who the Borg took over, let alone trying to bring two former crews together. I need your support in bringing both crews together to become one. So, I need you to go out of your way and show the crew that you don’t have an issue with Rubon.”

“Understood, sir, and again, I am sorry,” Thaustin said.

“Stop apologising, Thaustin, and become best friends with Rubon.” McCallister sighed. “I promise you, you two are more alike than you realise.”

Thaustin nodded. “I will make amends and get to know him.”

“Thank you,” McCallister said. “I know Kazlaf is more of a hard one to crack, but if you and the others can do it, then I hope she will see the benefit of it.”

“I understand, sir.”

“Then dismissed, Number One.”

Thaustin stood up, and McCallister noticed his sense of relief. The captain could see how much the Xindi-Primate man was kicking himself for conducting himself in a way that he knew that his previous commanding officer would not be impressed.

After being alone momentarily, McCallister ordered the replicator behind him to make a mug of tea. He wondered if they were too premature in launching the Constitution. Perhaps he should have insisted on remaining behind in the Alpha Quadrant for a bit longer so everyone got used to each other. His own stupid pride in wanting to prove that the former crews of the Triton and Bellerophon blinded him in not taking the time to stop and consider the possible ramifications. He certainly wanted a better relationship with his first officer; he didn’t want a yes man, but then McCallister didn’t want someone who would throw a teenage tantrum every time he made a command decision.

Tapping his combadge, he called the bridge to open a secure channel with the Odyssey; perhaps his older brother and squadron commander had some wise words to help. He had done the same thing with the Odyssey over twenty years ago; surely, there were a few tricks that James could share with him.