Literary Challenge #20 : Saying Goodbye
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Join Date: Dec 2007
06-01-2012, 04:26 PM
Captainís Log for Pii
My orders just came in. It appears Starfleet has another crew that needs to be whipped into shape with a little Borg Efficiency. My next command is going to be the USS Greenwich. The Captain was recently killed during an away mission, and the first officer is not ready to take command of the ship yet. It has brought out quite a bit of dissension in the ranks. To say that morale is low is an understatement; on the verge of mutiny is another way to describe it; however, if the ship were a Klingon vessel, I would be out of a job.
The Copernicus was in much the same state when I first came aboard. The captain had made a grave mistake that nearly got the ship destroyed and everyone aboard her killed. Court Martial proceedings ensued, and he was unfortunately found guilty of gross negligence and is now the commanding officer of a remote subspace relay station with no one to command other than his pet quadruped. His first officer was great on paper, but was a raging idiot when it came to real world experience. A serious situation was heating up on the ship, and Starfleet needed it resolved efficiently and discretely. They called me.
I remember stepping aboard the Copernicus and being greeted with an argument from the chief engineer and his subordinate. The doctor wasnít present. The first officer was half dressed and appeared extremely inconvenienced by my arrival. The tactical and operations officers couldnít even stand at attention. I think the transporter chief was the only one in the group that seemed presentable. I later approved a promotion and a transfer request for her to another ship.
From the moment I stepped off the transporter pad, I began to whip them into shape. I dressed them each down, and sent them back to their stations with the expectation that I would be performing a formal inspection in a matter of hours. They all hated me, and many applied for transfers, which I promptly denied, while a few outright resigned because they couldnít handle my command style. I am troubled by it, because many of them had the potential to be great officers. But, Iím here to do my job, not to hold their hands and be their friends.
Over the last several months, the crew fell in line. I helped each one identify their best qualities and how they can better serve themselves and the service. For some, it meant changing professions, while most just needed some additional training. However, the ship is better for spending almost a year under my relentless pursuits.
Two months ago, I informed command of my progress in getting the ship and its crew back in line and requested to be reassigned to another ship in need of my expertise. The Copernicusí first officer, Jameson, was now ready to take command; the crew will follow his orders, and together they will represent the best that Starfleet has to offer.
I havenít notified the crew of my walking orders yet. Iím not looking forward to the social niceties that Iím sure they will certainly organize. I remember my last assignment aboard the Galileo. That ship had a tradition of hazing new arrivals and playing practical jokes on departing crewmen. The tradition had been in place ever since the ship left space dock, but somewhere during its 45 year history, the tradition had been lost. For the Galileo, I reinstituted the tradition in grand fashion and pulled quite a zinger on everyone onboard the ship. Before departing that post for the Copernicus, they returned the favor with an equally grand prank.
What works for one ship and crew doesnít always work for another. I will be spending the rest of my time here studying and preparing for my new command, while Jameson begins taking more and more responsibility for this one. I will say that the Greenwich will be in for quite a surprise, when I finally get my hands on her. All Iím willing to say for now is that Iíve been increasing my repertoire of traditional seafaring songs.
However, Iím getting ahead of myself. I still havenít even told Jameson that heís got the job. I know he will try to convince me to stay, but ultimately, he will realize that this is the best thing for all of us. In the end, it will be a smooth transition. There will be a party or some other social gathering that they will hold in my honor. I will pretend to be put out, but I have to admit that I do enjoy seeing them all one last time, happy and working together, instead of at each otherís throats. After all, weíre not Klingons.
Letís get this over with. Pii to Jameson, report to my ready room immediately.
Oh. Computer, stop recording.