The Good With the Bad

Posted on Thu Feb 1st, 2024 @ 2:48pm by Captain Malcom Llwyedd & Lieutenant JG Randolf Forst

1,717 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Prelude to Rebirth
Location: Captain's Ready Room, Deck 1, USS Firebird
Timeline: One month into the 6 month of boredom

[ON]

Randolf had moved all of his belongings aboard the ship this morning and was now headed to the bridge to check in with the duty officer. He was also looking up that particular procedure since he had only done it once before when transferring to the Charleston from the Academy.

He had heard from a friend of his that his request to transfer to the Firebird was being questioned by some of his old colleagues but he hadn't quite figured out why. The ship was assigned to slow warp maneuvers back and forth between shipping lanes for the next five months. It was a perfect environment for his next experiment.

The doors to the turbolift swishing brought his focus back to the present as he scanned the bridge looking for the duty officer.

Kipp was sitting at his console, keeping one eye on the four ensigns that were technically running the ship. However, every once in a while Kipp would give a "suggestion" such as "Perhaps plotting a new course around that asteroid would be a good idea, sir?" Thankfully his suggestions were taken as orders and the ship was still intact.

The turbolift opened and disgorged a short, muscular man with brown hair. He wore a science uniform and his rank insignia showed the yeoman that he was a Lieutenant JG. Kipp saw the man scanning the room.

"Can I help you sir?" Kipp asked and stood up.

"Yes, thanks." Randolf approached the petty officer.

"I am looking for the duty officer to report aboard." Randolf glanced around the bridge. The design was a new one for him, but he liked the circularity. There were the four ensigns manning the stations around the bridge and the petty officer.

"Captain Llwyedd is technically the duty officer right now. He's in his ready room doing...stuff?" Kipp said with a shrug. "You're arriving at a weird time, sir. Did something happen at your last duty station?"

Randolf was a little taken aback at the cavalier (or was it apathetic) feeling the bridge crew was exuding. And there was that question, similar to how his friends had talked about the Firebird.

"Nothing out of the ordinary. The Firebird is a well-equipped vessel whose current mission is perfect for my ongoing experiments. May I ask why everyone seems to think that this assignment is so ... problematic?"

Kipp paused at the question. Clearly, the young scientist wasn't up on the latest fleet gossip. "Well, sir, the Firebird had an... incident a few months ago. The Captain prioritized the life of his crew over orders. Starfleet Command demoted him and put us on cargo transport duty for an unknown length of time. The ship's reputation has suffered. Half of the fleet thinks the Captain is a hero and the other thinks he's a villain. The end result is that nobody here is getting promoted anytime soon and nobody with a good record wants to come here," Kipp said. "Thus my question to you, sir."

Randolf nodded taking in the information. He was not specifically worried about promotion per se, but there was something about the idea that he might not be promoted at all that was a little concerning. He had made a point of avoiding most of the scuttlebutt around the fleet as it was rarely relevant to what he was doing with his experiments.

"I can see now that the question makes a lot of sense. May I ask where the Captain's ready room is? I would like to check in now." Randolf worried that was a little rude, but he wanted to get this part of the assignment over before his brain took over with thinking too much about the state of the ship. Knowing him it would probably push the carefully rehearsed phrases out of his head.

Kipp nodded. "Of course. It's the door just there," He said and pointed to the entrance to the Captain's Ready Room. "One last thing, sir, if I may. I've served with four Captains. Captain Llwyedd is the best of them all. Please don't judge him too harshly. He's not himself just yet."

Randolf walked to the door of the ready room while running through the standard request again in his head. The petty officer had seemed almost sad with that last comment, or at least that was how it read to Randolf at the moment. He chimed at the door.

Malcom yawned. He was sitting on his couch, his feet up on the small table that sat between him and the two chairs opposite. He had a stack of PADDs scattered next to him. He was supposed to be reading all of them but they were mainly criticisms from Starfleet Command on how he was conducting his supply runs. It was just more harassment, which he thought was an attempt to get him to resign his commission. The door chime came as a welcome surprise.

"Come in," Malcom said. He scratched at his beard, which Kipp said was turning into a face jungle. Malcom disagreed but the disappointing glances from his yeoman continued.

Randolf entered the ready room and fixed his eyes on the wall behind the Captain. The Petty Officer's warning made Randolf want to ensure that he got the words right before trying to take in any of the surroundings.

"Lieutenant Junior Grade Randolf Forst reporting for duty sir." He then glanced around the room and was reminded of his first roommate at the Academy who would not have described himself as a slob, but Randolf and he had debated the meaning of the word over that first year.

"At ease, Lieutenant," Malcom said, gesturing to one of the chairs. Forst. Lieutenant Forst Malcom thought. trying to recall who he was. A memory of a personnel message came to mind.

"You're coming from the Charleston?" Malcom asked. "Captain T'fal?"

Taking the offered seat Randolf nodded and then decided that it would be better to actually answer the question.

"Yes sir. Captain T'fal. Although I had limited interactions with the Captain. Commander Ferrum was my superior in the science department."

"Commander Ferrum wrote you a very good letter of reference for your next posting. The thing is, you seem like a bright young officer, and, to be honest, I think that your career will be stunted if I accept you as a member of my crew. I'm inclined to refuse and have you reassigned to another ship. I'm sure you've heard about our current situation here on the Firebird," Malcom said.

Randolf's throat constricted a little with panic. That was bad. After a second he realized that the Captain meant it as a kindness. There it was again, the idea that this ship would hurt his career. Maybe in some ways, but it was still the best ship for the task.

"Respectfully sir, this is the best ship for me. The route that we are planning to take over the next few months is a steady and fixed path, with a relatively stable warp field emissions delta of 0.537." He took a breath with every intention of going on but realized that this was what Ferrum had described as "Going overboard." A term that his commander had used whenever he lapsed into a long technical explanation.

"Sorry sir," Randolf concluded before sitting back a little in his chair.

Malcom smiled. "Nothing to be sorry for, Lieutenant. I appreciate an officer who is enthusiastic about their job. It does sound as if our current mission fits with what you are hoping to study. But I'm hoping that one day we get away from this resupply mission and get back to doing what we do best, help people who are in crisis. What will you do then?"

Randolf nodded and thought for a moment. He had considered that the ship wouldn't be on that particular flight plan forever, and there was phase two of the experiment. It was dependent on the outcome of phase one. He wasn't entirely sure what that experiment would look like ...

He noticed that he hadn't actually spoken yet. "Ah, yes, there is another phase to the experiment, potentially two depending on the outcome of the first, that can be performed under any operating conditions." Randolf finally made eye contact with the Captain.

"Is it really that bad? To be on the Firebird I mean."

"Honestly? No. I think that the crew is one of the best I've ever served with, and I served with a damn fine crew on the Iowa during the Dominion War," Malcom said and gestured to the Akira class model that sat on a shelf near his desk. "But we do get into a lot of trouble and, to be honest, I don't always follow the letter of law with orders I receive. I never leave a member of my crew behind, damn the consequences."

Malcom sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "If you still want to stay, having heard all the negatives, I won't begrudge you a spot on my ship. Under ordinary circumstances, I'd be welcoming you with open arms. You're a fine officer, or so I'm told."

Randolf stood and offered his hand to the Captain.

"I do want to stay sir, and may I say, and I hope that this is not an overstepping, that if you are not at your best, I am eager to see you at your best."

Malcom stood as well. He shook the young Lieutenant's hand. "Thank you, Lieutenant, and welcome aboard," Malcom said. "Let me know if you have any challenges getting settled in. Oh and check in with Lieutenant Baxter. She's our Chief Science officer. Dismissed."

Malcom smiled as the science officer turned toward the door. He was going to be a good one.

Randolf left the office and headed for the Turbolift, nodding to the Petty Officer on the way out. I think I will enjoy it here. He thought as the doors swished closed.

[OFF]

Commander Malcom Llwyedd
Commanding Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298


Lieutenant JG Randall Frost
Assistant Chief Science Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298

 

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