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Capt. Shayne - Goodbyes and Beginnings

Gila Sadar

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Being in command of one's own ship seems like a daunting task, and an in reality, is probably far more taxing than us new Ensigns can even imagine. This aspect of Starfleet Life, I feel, our various Commanding Officers manage to transmit to us with extreme clarity, and often in quite hilarious ways. Nevertheless, this Sim was a lovely read, because it not only hammers home the fact that the lunatics enjoy the work, but that while Command can be a heavy burden to bear, it is not one our Captains carry alone. And just as Captain @Randal Shayne, I ended the Sim with a smile on my face.

I'm sure I speak for the entire fleet, when I say we hope for a good and fun-filled transitional period for all Ships who've lost crewmembers to the Rampage of the Ronin, and that we all share in the excitement described in this Sim!


((Deck 1, Captain’s Ready Room, USS Arrow)) 

Niac: I'd be happy to do whatever I can to ease the transition although I'm guessing that with our rush back to DS33, I'm not going to have a lot of time to get things together before I have to disembark.  And...thank you, sir.  I know this couldn't have happened without you.  Serving as your First Officer, however briefly, has been the high point of a very long career.  If you ever need anything...

Shayne:  The honor is mine, commander. Always has been. 

So much of Starfleet was weird- unexpected, strange, dubious. It was basically the job description. And yet, on occasion, circumstances contorted themselves so that the weirdness was not found in a new form of life unlike any others previously discovered, or in a planet that was edible, or a time travel paradox. Sometimes the weirdness appointed itself upon a metaphorical perch in a room with two people. For all Niac’s years- hundreds past, boundless to come- for all his gruff mannerisms and firm leadership and for all the years he had on the captain, for an instant, Shayne found himself seeing the Trill as a son. Not so coarsely, naturally, but the pride he felt, the sense of continuation, the longing for good things to happen to his comrade reverberating deep in his bones… he wondered if fathers felt the same about their children. Perhaps, perhaps not. But captains did for their rising stars. Leaders worth their salt held that as the final mark of success. And if anything, he’d tried to be worth his salt. 

Niac:  Just promise me not to make a big deal about this with the crew.  I feel like I just got this place running like a Vulcan clock for you, I don't want to shake them up.  

Shayne: Discretion is my middle name. Used to be my first, but I think it’ll do. 

That was half true- he did intend for the celebration of Niac’s accomplishment to be a subtle one, but a celebration nonetheless. There would be time to think of that later. 

Niac:  I guess I know what Vice Admiral Corcino wants to talk to me about over on the Valley Forge at least.  When I get back, assuming I'm not in restraints and under armed guard, I should tell you about the last time Maki and I served together.  

Shayne:  I’m going to hold you to that. 

How many hours had they spent together? How many opportunities to talk about more than business had his persnickety personality thrown away? And how many would they have now? He’d not waste them again. 

Karrod turned, and made for the exit, but he stopped and returned his gaze to the captain. Shayne wasn’t sure if he was relieved or saddened that he’d see the man’s back for the second time.

Niac:  You know, this could mean that all this time Starfleet has been listening to you.  You've been screaming for more resources out here for years and now we've got a deep space station, an entire squadron of support fighters and possibly a second starship to back you up?  Things keep going this way you might have to start introducing yourself as Commodore at parties.  ::Karrod smiled and resumed his departure.::  Just a thought, sir. 

Before he could make a cohesive response, or indeed remove the face of surprise from his features, Karrod was gone; if all went well, it was the last time he’d ever walk through those doors with three pips on his collar. 

In his spinning considerations of Niac’s departure consequences, he hadn’t even struck upon the ramifications for the region as a whole. A new ship. A powerful one, to be sure. A skilled captain, with fine officers at her helm. Firepower, resources, teamwork possibilities… and there was no one he trusted more to lead such an addition to their Isles taskforce. 



He liked the way it rolled around in his head. Of course, he’d never assume the title until he’d earned it, but the sheer fact, he realized, that he was considering it fondly, and not as some other stone around his neck as he would have three years ago, was itself a friendly surprise. 

He returned to the desk, and sat, busying himself with paperwork, unable to hide the smile that was peaking through his usual mug of boorish concentration. 

There was work to do. 

And most of it was fantastic. 



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