| abstract | - Later that evening, Xavier made his way to the mess hall. The room swelled with people; it seemed like most of the 80 crewmembers aboard the Pioneer were present there, doubtlessly to relax for one more night before they all set off on their first mission. Xavier weaved through the crowd and queued for one of the replicators. There was, of course, a replicator in his quarters, but after putting away the few possessions he’d brought with him, he’d seen little point in staying there. There was nothing left for him to do, but perhaps he could make himself useful elsewhere. He’d gone all through the ship again, on his own this time, to get a feel for it. This didn’t take long with only eight decks, and when he was satisfied that everything was progressing as it should be, he’d reported to Captain Quinton again. Quinton, in turn, had assured him that there was no need for him to remain on duty and, eventually, all but shooed him off the bridge. So, Xavier had wandered aimlessly around the Pioneer until arriving at his present location. Perhaps now he’d get a feel for the crew. After all, one of the responsibilities of a first officer was to represent the interests of the crew to the commanding officer and vice versa. He’d do well to begin getting to know some of his colleagues. Slowly but steadily, the line grew shorter and he let his mind wander. After a few minutes, however, something jarred him back into the reality of his surroundings and he looked around. Xavier heard a voice, one of many in the room. Nonetheless, he was able to pick it out over the din. “Have you already met our illustrious new first officer, then?” Xavier arched his eyebrows. Perhaps it was hearing himself being talked about that had drawn his attention. He continued to glance around for the source. “Yes, Captain Quinton was showing him around today. They came by the Security Office.” A second voice now, but he still couldn’t pinpoint either. The first voice made a derisive sound. “Oh, they made it to Main Engineering, too.” Xavier frowned and craned his neck. It was ahead of him, the corner table to the left of the replicators. A female Bolian sat by the window, and facing her was a humanoid male, with his back to Xavier. His suspicions were confirmed when Xavier moved a little closer and saw her speak again. “Was there a problem?” He could now recognize her as Lieutenant Lyron, the Chief Security/Tactical Officer. They’d met earlier, but he hadn’t spoken much with anyone but the captain that day. “Sure was one for me. I don’t like anyone breathing down my neck.” Lyron frowned. “What do you mean?” “He was hovering, and casting a disapproving eye over everything. I don’t mind questions, but I do mind when people try to tell me how to do my job.” Xavier rolled his eyes. “No doubt you needed the help,” he said under his breath. “I doubt it was deliberate. Why would he do that?” “He was probably trying to impress the captain. You know he was gunning for that promotion. Instead, he gets sent here.” “It's a very good assignment.” “Of course it is, for us and everyone else, but he can’t see it that way. He's going to want to get out of here as soon as possible and I’m thinking he’s not above being a bit of a show-off if he thinks it’ll help.” The man paused. “What did you think of him?” Xavier gasped. “Gunning? I’m not ‘gunning’ for anything. And ‘show-off’? I’ll teach him what....” The woman standing in line in front of him glanced back with a puzzled look. He shrugged. “Sorry. Just... thinking out loud.” She nodded slowly and turned back around. Again, Lyron was talking. “We only spoke for a moment, but he seems fine to me. I think you’re overreacting, Kingsley.” Xavier frowned. Kingsley? The Chief Engineer? Of course. “You just wait.” By this time, Xavier had reached the head of the line. He muttered his order to the computer, then, once it materialized, stalked off away from Kingsley and Lyron with it. At about the same time, Watley also sauntered into the mess hall. She was about to join the line herself and get something to eat when she spotted Powell sitting alone and decided to seize the chance. She hadn’t been able to get a word with him since disembarking from the shuttle. Watley sidled up to Powell's table. “You have a strange sense of humor, Counselor.” He didn’t seem surprised by her presence. “I prefer 'Doctor'. Please, sit.” She did, across from him, and folded her arms. “Doctor, then. Why did you let me go on like that earlier?” “I didn't want to embarrass you.” “It's a bit late for that.” Powell nodded. “My apologies. I agree I should have said something, but I was curious. I know your opinions are not uncommon, and I find it interesting. Why do you think you have difficulty talking about your feelings?” “I'm a private person. I prefer to keep them to myself.” “That's your prerogative. I won't expect you to come by my office anytime soon. You're a Betazoid?” “Mostly. My mother's a full Betazoid and my father's half human.” “Telepathic?” “Not usually. That sort of training was never much of a priority for me.” “That wouldn't have anything to do with your feelings toward my profession, would it?” “I don't explore my empathic and telepathic abilities, so that's obviously connected to my preference for privacy. Of course.” She shook her head. “We can't all be psychologists and diplomats.” “Don't misunderstand; I don't mean to endorse stereotypes. I was only speculating that perhaps a lack of interest in your own ability to sense the emotions of others could be related to a discomfort with sharing your own feelings. It was not an accusation, merely an idea.” “You don't know me, Doctor.” “Then why don't we make an appointment? I can get to know you.” Watley stared at him. “I don’t suppose you’d answer any of my questions in return.” “Anything you ask.” She sighed and shook her head. “You’re really desperate, aren’t you?” “I prefer to think of myself as ‘interested’.” “You know... why not? I probably haven’t got anything better to do. I will check my schedule and get back to you.” “Glad to hear it,” he grinned. Watley gave him a wry smile. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a very odd person, Doctor?” Powell mulled it over carefully. “I believe that would be telling.” “Something on your mind, Commander?” Xavier looked up to find Thales stopped beside his table. She smiled. “Now don’t give me that look. You’re picking at your food. Either you don’t like it or you’re busy thinking.” “The food is fine.” “Okay. I won’t ask you to tell me what’s wrong. Let’s just sit awhile.” As she made the suggestion, she took the opposite seat and gazed across at him. “Why?” “I’m here and you’re alone.” “There’s nothing wrong with being alone. I like alone.” “Of course there isn’t, but you can’t be alone all the time. You were alone before I came over here, and now you won’t be until I leave.” Xavier gave her a withering look. “Impeccable logic.” She grinned, unfazed. “I try. So, how are you finding the Pioneer?” “It’s a very nice ship, and the crew seems to be the same, for the most part.” “Sounds like you’ve had a run-in with someone in particular.” “I thought you weren’t going to ask any questions.” “I’m not; that was a statement. I’d be glad to talk about something else if you prefer.” “I really would. Why don’t you... I don’t know, tell me about yourself?” “Certainly. Well... my favorite color is orange. I like tennis, jigsaw puzzles, and knock-knock jokes.” Xavier gave her a look. “Just trying to inject some levity into the situation. Your reputation precedes itself. All right. My last assignment was the USS Bach. I was there for seven years as Assistant Chief Operations Officer and then Chief Operations Officer. I've always had an interest in maybe moving into command one day, and so when the opportunity came up to become Second Officer as well here, I had to take it. Unfortunately, I had to leave my wife behind for now.” “You’re married? That’s nice.” She nodded. “Her name’s Tegwen. Going on five years now. I have been hoping she’ll be able to transfer here, but it doesn’t look like it’s going to happen any time soon.” “Sorry.” “It’s a Starfleet fact of life. How about you?” “There’s no one. Although I suppose I’d like to get married if there was anyone I was able to get that far with. I think I work too much to have a decent romantic relationship with anyone. Or friendship, for that matter. Well, except for Judith.” “Judith?” “Admiral Engström, I mean. We’re good friends, you know? She taught me a lot.” He sighed. “And I suppose you must know what happened on the Middleton. Everyone else seems to.” Thales averted her eyes. “Well... it’s difficult to keep a secret around here.” “I’m beginning to see that. I shouldn’t be surprised at the lack of accuracy, either. I had every reason to think I was getting the promotion, you know. The Admiral supported me, and everything was on track for it, as far as I knew. Then this got sprung on me. I’m sure the Pioneer is a fine ship and a great assignment, I understand that, but that’s not the point. I’ll admit I was and still am upset, but just because of the way it was done. I absolutely do not see it as a conspiracy against me, but it was unfair, and I think I have every right to be disappointed. That said, I am here now and I’m going to make the best of it. I just want people to know that.” “I know it. That’s a start.” “Thank you.” “You’re welcome. Are you enjoying it here so far, aside from all that?” “Other than that little thing? Generally, yes. Although, with all due respect to Captain Quinton—I don’t know him and obviously he’s new here as well—from some of what I’ve seen, I have to say things were better run on the Middleton.” “How so?” “You have a little problem with insubordination around here. This Kingsley fellow—” Thales laughed. “What, Jasper Kingsley? What’s he done?” “He is disrespectful of rank and position.” “To you? He’s not too by-the-book, but he’s a good officer and completely inoffensive.” “No one would have spoken that way about a superior officer on my ship.” “That may be, Commander, but you’re on my ship now. Maybe it’ll be your ship too sometime, but you’ll have to earn it like the rest of us. I don’t want to hear insinuations and vague accusations; if you have a problem, tell me about it specifically now or wait to tell Captain Quinton. Your choice.” “Don’t you think you’re overstepping your bounds, Lieutenant?” “I’ve been here with the Captain every step of the way, getting this ship and this crew ready. I believe you about the situation on the Middleton. I think I actually like you, but I’m not going to let anyone, including you, mess this up for everyone. If you have a real problem with Lieutenant Commander Kingsley I want it sorted out as soon as possible. If you want to report me for insubordination, go right ahead.” Xavier stared at her for several moments. “That won’t be necessary. You’re dedicated, I respect that. And I understand where you’re coming from. I’ll tell you what happened.” “I’m gratified.” “Mr. Kingsley had a few less than flattering things to say about my ‘situation’, as you put it. Essentially, he accused me of trying to make him look bad to make myself look better in comparison, in an effort to impress the captain. From his perspective, I am very bitter about not being promoted and so eager to get out of here that I would do anything if I thought it would help me accomplish that.” He leaned forward. “Anything I do, I do because I care about doing my job to the best of my ability. I am thorough, precise, and I’ll admit I can be strict. However, I am not ruthless, nor power-hungry, and I am most certainly not dishonest.” “Maybe a little bit sensitive.” She held up a hand. “Don’t say it. I know. He said this to your face?” “Well... no.” Xavier’s voice faltered. “Not exactly. I heard him talking to someone else about it.” “Not nearly. You eavesdropped on him?” “No, he was talking loud enough so that everyone could hear. I couldn’t help but listen, he wasn’t far away from me. For all I know, he could have seen me and kept talking anyway.” “But I don’t think anyone else was listening.” She shook her head thoughtfully. “I never took you for an eavesdropper. I'll have to remember to be careful around you.” “Can you be serious about this?” “Yes, of course. I was just defusing the tension. I find it useful. What you said... I’ll have a word with the Captain.” “Thank you.”
|
