From the Ground Up

Posted on Thu Feb 2nd, 2023 @ 10:17am by Captain Malcom Llwyedd
Edited on on Sat Mar 4th, 2023 @ 4:22pm

1,199 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Prelude to Rebirth
Location: USS Firebird, COB's Office, Deck 6
Timeline: 03 March 2396

[ON]

Sometimes Malcom liked getting out of his office. He told himself that it was because the crew needed to see him, especially after the demotion, for morale purposes. Sometimes he admitted to himself that it was simply to get away from Kipp because, as much as he was a friend and an amazing yeoman, he was also a mother hen who disapproved of a lot of the things Malcom liked to do. Or how he did things. (Occasionally he even admitted that Kipp was right more often than not) But this time, he simply wanted to see the Firebird with fresh eyes. It felt like years since he had been aboard with his crew and he was making a grand tour, checking in on people, chatting with them about their projects, etc.

When he reached deck six, he was again surprised at how radically the spaces had changed with the departure of the Marines. Malcom and Captain Cunningham had shared a last meal, each voicing their admiration for the other. During the Xavi's rescue, the Marines had reluctantly supported their efforts and while their transfer had been couched as a simple reallocation of forces, in fact, they both knew it was a punishment. They parted on good terms and Malcom made sure to tell the Captain that if they needed the Firebird they would be there.

In place of the Marine quarters, Starfleet had thankfully overseen by Harlan, added family quarters, another holodeck, and an actual lounge. He ducked a head into the lounge and saw that it was still being finished and had yet to open. He was passing the Chief of the Boat's Office and heard a voice. He paused and then waved his hand in front of the door chime.

Charles was having a day. He had been pretty busy putting out small enlisted fires. He was starting to wonder where Starfleet found this new rotation of new boots. He was in the middle of one of his favorite destressing techniques, chanting. It was a form of an ancient Mongolian chanting that consisted of some growling and letting the emotions out. He was broken out of his ritual when the rhythmic drumming dimmed and the door chimed. Charles gave a , what now, look at the door. "Come"

Malcom walked in and smiled at his COB. "Chief! I hope I'm not disturbing anything," he said, looking around the office. It felt much more spartan than others he'd visited. "I just wanted to check in with you and see how you were handling this influx of enlisted to the ship. You added fifteen I think? How are they acclimating."

"OH, hey Cap. Always have time if you're down this way. " Charles straightened his shirt and looked around for his uniform jacket. Seeing it over on a chair he walked and replied. "Officially, they are acclimating as expected." He paused as he turned back. "If I was chitchatting with Malcom they are a rare breed they sent us." He said with a chuckle as he started to put his jacket on.

Malcom sighed. "I'm sorry, chief. I think this is yet another way that command is going to punish us. Let me guess, they sent you the dregs from boot camp and added a few malcontents from across the fleet." Malcom rubbed his face with a hand. They just aren't going to make it easy on us.

"Not sure where they found them but they all seem to have mommy issues and the work ethic of.... well shit, not sure they have a work ethic." Charles finished putting on his uniform and started to zip it up. "But on a bright side, our Officers seem to be plugging along and making things work." He didn't want to be totally negative.

"I know you're right. I'm thankful that they are even giving us replacements. And I know that you will be able to bring them up to speed. Don't be afraid to bring in Chief B'rala if you need some muscle," Malcom said with a smile. "And I'll let you sort out any discipline issues unless they are severe enough that I need to know about them."

"I am working with some of the heads to discipline some of the folks in their departments and it's been going ok so far. If it's a real issue I am sure you will know from someone." He reassured it was being handled. "They gonna keep giving us these bullshit orders forever?"

"Short answer? Probably. There's a lot of dirty work out there in the fleet and we are just the tool they need. Long answer? Eventually, they will have something that is more important than keeping us in line and we will get out of all this," Malcom said and waved his hand. "And back to doing what we do best, help people in emergencies. I just hope that it isn't too long or everyone will go insane from loading supplies and unloading supplies as if we were a freighter."

"I know some freighters that are bigger then the Ole bird. How do you like the upgrades they put in?" Charles tapped his desk while he spoke.

Malcom shrugged. "Too early to tell. I'm hopeful that the new lounge, which they call Six Forward, is going to be a fun place to hang out. But I am kinda sad to see our Marines go. They were some excellent people to have around in a pinch and I'm worried that helping us with those Romulans is getting them into some trouble. Otherwise, I guess the new family crew quarters are a great idea. I know Jillian and Emily Mox are happy to have some new space. I believe some of Commander Leed's family is coming as well. It is good to have family around. What about you, Chief? Any changes you'd like to make?"

Charles stared off in the distance as he thought about Malcom's inquiry. "I am glad I wasn't assigned elsewhere and your still in that center seat." He paused as his gaze rested on his friend. "No matter the rank on the collar I am ready to serve at your pleasure." He offered his hand for a firm shake. "The rest is gravy"

Malcom smiled. "I appreciate that, Chief. And I am not gonna lie, I wasn't sure if I would ever be back in command of a ship, let alone this one. I still don't think we did anything wrong and I'd do it all over again if I had to. But I'll be a little smarter about things if it happens again," Malcom said and shook the chief's hand. "I'll let you get back to what you have to do. Don't be a stranger."

He stood up, nodded once, and exited the room. It is good to have the Chief of the Boat back he thought.

[OFF]

Commander Malcom Llwyedd
Commanding Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298

Chief Petty Officer Charles Stephens JR
Chief of Boat
USS Firebird NCC-88298

 

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