If I Just Lay Here
Posted on 31 Jan 2020 @ 6:26pm by Commander Andreus Kohl
1,037 words; about a 5 minute read
Previously on, “She Did What? (Part 5 of 5)”…
”They probably are," the captain agreed, thinking back to the blonde lieutenant's tense proclamation before he was helped off to sickbay. "But it's not their problem to solve, it's ours. Kohl, how many tricobalt devices do we have in our cargo bay? Eight?"
Squinting his eyes, Kohl stared into the middle distance as he turned his mind back to a report he'd read a few days ago. After he completed the mental math in his head, Kohl cocked his head to one side, and he said, "Nine devices."
"Good. Transfer four to Galileo and install them into torpedo casings," Rasmussen ordered. "Once this ship is repaired, I plan for the task group to enter the system and destroy the colony site on Latari A III. The other ships will provide cover if the Tholians decide to challenge us." The heavyset man took a breath then wiped a light coat of perspiration from the top of his forehead. "Kohl, I'm transferring you here as acting captain until Saalm returns.”
For his part, Andreus Kohl nodded in Rasmussen's direction but his eyes were on the down. His gaze landed somewhere around Rasmussen's uniform collar and his four pips. Kohl didn't look around --didn't look to the others. Really, it took all his strength not to appeared shocked or terrified. Acting command, Rasmussen had ordered him, of the Galileo, of all the ships in the fleet. He'd grown up on this ship. He'd been paralyzed on this ship. He'd fallen in love on this ship. His head spinning, his voice catching in his throat, all Kohl could manage to say was, "Aye..."
And now, the continuation…
[ON]
Captain’s Log, Stardate… Uhm…
No. Uhm, no, not yet…
Andreus Kohl’s Personal Log, Supplemental…
If I’m honest with myself, it wasn’t even that memorable a morning.
I think I… I think I ate a bowl of oatmeal? I might have gone for a run around deck three. I tried out a new blend of tea. I can’t say I liked it. I think it might have been cursed.
It wasn’t even that memorable a morning. In the future, when somebody asks me about this day, I don’t know what I’ll say. Except, I know exactly what I’ll say. I’ll say this. I am the Commanding officer of USS Galileo.
In a purely acting capacity, of course. Clearly.
But still.
Me.
Captaining.
Her.
It’s like one of those fantasies you have as a cadet. You’re assigned to your cadet cruise and you fall in love with your first starship. (Even if it’s an old Sabre-class starship.) You swear that you’re going to be a Captain one day, and not just any old captain, but you’re going to be THE Captain of THIS starship. When you go to your bunk every night, you can imagine the arc of your career so perfectly, so clearly. Maybe it will take you thirty years, but some day, you’ll follow that path of promotions straight to the Captain’s chair.
It’s just a dream, of course. By the time you get midway through the Lieutenant ranks, you start to appreciate the way Starfleet is a massively complex, interconnected organism. Aiming for service aboard any one specific starship is like throwing a dart into a black hole. It’s a fool’s errand. It’s nearly impossible. It’s an act of vaulting ambition.
Galileo was that ship for me. I started my career aboard a starbase. As much as starbases serve an essentially necessary function for the fleet; they have no character, really. You’re not really doing Starfleet when you’re perched aboard a starbase. And then the USS Bismark… that ship was not for me. It was a-Bis-mal, shall we say. My father died the day I stepped aboard Galileo and yet I fell in love all the same.
I have to keep reminding myself that this isn’t that same Galileo. Not really. And yet, it is, somehow? Captain Saalm was here… she was right here just a few hours ago. She was probably pacing this very ready room as she plotted how to best serve the Genesis Directive. …I don’t imagine she expected any of her plans would have resulted in her closest officers undermining her, nor that she would flee in the night.
Of course, I say right here, but Captain Saalm was probably pacing the compartment or sitting at the desk. Somehow, I doubt she was curled up in a ball, laying on the deck at the foot of the sofa. I can’t really imagine her doing that. It’s not terribly captain-ly.
For that very reason, I should probably stop doing it. I should get out of the fetal position and get to my feet. I will do it. I will stand up. I mean, I should stand up. At some point. Eventually. But if I just lie here, I don’t have to go… out there. I won’t have to face Luke and Allydnra, who looked at me like I took a piss in the conference room. I won’t have to decide between the fate of this crew, and the fate of the away team, and the fate of a new species, and the fate of the Tholians. I won’t have to choose. The crew won’t mutiny me too.
If I just lay here…
If I just lay here…
Maybe the deck will swallow me whole.
No. Andreus, get up. Get up, you little bitch. You can’t record a Captain’s Log on your backside. That missing away team needs this ship; Captain Saalm needs this ship; those proto-Tholians need… something; and thou shalt not suffer the Genesis Effect to live. I’m the ones with the command codes. I have to at least… I mean, I can try? Right? I can try. Now move your ass!
End log.
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