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| - “What do you think of her, Commander?” Quinton and Xavier had retired to the ready room following the tour and now the Captain glanced expectantly across his desk at his new first officer. Xavier hesitated. “It’s... rather small, sir. Not really what I’m used to. But not to say I’m not impressed, of course. It’s quite advanced, to be sure.” “We like her. Tell me, were you expecting to take over on the Middleton after Captain Engström’s promotion?” “‘Expecting’ is a strong word. I thought it not unlikely. I’ve been a first officer for six years.” “And distinguished yourself quite well. You were seriously considered.” “Indeed,” said Xavier in a voice devoid of surprise. “You are not without your admirers in Starfleet Command.” “And detractors?” A hint of a smirk crept onto Quinton’s face. “Are you in some sort of hurry to get your own ship, Mr. Xavier?” “It is a great desire of mine and I believe I’ve earned it. My record is excellent. I’ve proven myself capable and, as I’ve said, I’ve been—” “Yes, I know, first officer for six years. Please don’t mistake my intentions; I’ve no doubt you’re qualified. Even so, some believe there are a few more things you ought to learn.” “What am I going to get out of another year or two that I don’t already have?” “I’ll get to that, Commander. Six years is all well and good, but it doesn’t mean anything if you’re not ready.” “Ready? You yourself said I’m qualified. You received your first command after six years, didn’t you, sir?” “It was closer to seven, actually, but who’s counting? Not me.” “Did Admiral Engström not deem me adequately prepared?” “No, she supported your promotion, but as I said, some were of a different mind.” “Such as yourself?” “It’s not an insult. If I didn’t think you were good enough for the Pioneer, you wouldn’t be here. In fact, I happen to think you are just right for her.” “Is that so, sir?” “I realize your previous postings might have dulled you to her appeal. The Pioneer is not especially glamorous, nor luxurious, and we’re not going to get the high profile missions. However, she is well-designed and suited to her objective, and her crew is excellent. We are dedicated to pure exploration. This is the real adventure. It's not as comfortable as those other assignments, and it's not easy, but I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.” “I... admire your zeal.” “Even if you don’t agree?” “Starfleet was built upon scientific exploration. It is a worthwhile and necessary pursuit, just not one to which I’d intended to be solely devoted.” “A good first officer is not afraid to speak their mind to their captain when they disagree. I admire that. My background lies in the sciences, so that accounts for my particular ardor. You were in security, weren’t you?” “That’s correct.” “You know, I’m rather surprised you didn’t register a formal protest when you received your new orders.” “It wouldn’t have been my place to. With respect, if you were worried, why didn’t you speak to me earlier and avoid risking that sort of problem?” “I wanted to see how you’d react. Everything I’d heard and seen told me you were steady, efficient, and judicious; a fine officer with a strong sense of duty. But patient and humble? Rather hard to say. Me, I like to see things for myself.” “I see.” “Commander, ambition is a good thing, but I think you might be helped by slowing down for a while and tempering that drive a bit. You might be surprised.” Quinton looked at him. “I just want to offer some advice as a senior officer. I am a great believer in the idea that, generally, the universe tends to itself. Things work out in ways you may not have expected. Oftentimes, though where you find yourself is not where you anticipated being, it is where you ought to be at that time. Just think about it, that’s all I ask.” “I will.” “Good.” He smiled. “Well, now that that’s out of the way—” “Thales to Quinton. Sorry to disturb you, sir, but the transport's finally arrived. I thought you’d want to know.” Quinton nodded slowly. “It's quite all right. Commander Xavier and I will meet them.” Briskly, they all filed out of the shuttle. The various crewmen and ensigns fanned out across the shuttlebay and left for their posts. Watley and Gerard trailed behind them. “So, this is it,” she said. “Yeah.” “We've made it.” “Nice to be here finally.” “I meant professionally.” “I know.” Gerard sighed. “Do you know how many people I'm going to be in charge of? The science department on a science vessel? It's staggering.” “You'll do fine. We all will.” “Love your optimism. But you; I thought you were a shuttle pilot?” “There's a first time for everything. I suppose you could say it was a dare.” He looked very interested. “Really?” Ahead of them, the officer who had been listening to Watley back at the Starbase was standing with Quinton and Xavier. As Gerard and Watley approached the group, Quinton caught sight of them and nodded. He glanced at the other officer. “Well, Counselor Powell, good to see you. As I told you, there’s a staff meeting scheduled for 0800, so you can get go ahead and get settled tonight before we get underway.” Watley leaned close to Gerard. “Did he say 'counselor'? After I went on and on back there?” “Yes, I believe he did. That's quite a pickle you're in.” “Thanks for that.” “Don’t be shy, Lieutenants.” Quinton smiled at them. “What I said goes for you two as well. I assume you've met the Counselor here.” Watley glanced at Powell. “In a manner of speaking.” “Good. This is Commander Xavier, our first officer, and I, of course, am Captain Quinton. Welcome to the Pioneer.” “Thank you, sir,” they both said. “Well, I'll let you go now. I'll see you all later. We get underway tomorrow!” Quinton and Xavier turned and sauntered off again. “I guess we're dismissed,” murmured Gerard. Watley said nothing. Powell, feeling her gaze, looked back at her with the same amused, knowing smile as earlier. Again, she frowned and turned away. “He looks so smug,” she whispered to Gerard. “Don't worry about him. Come on, let's have a look at the Bridge; you know you want to.” “Man after my own heart,” grinned Watley, and they headed for the turbolift. The doors to Sickbay slid open and Powell sauntered inside. Dalton was in the main ward, tending to a patient. “I'll be with you in a moment,” he said, not looking up as he waved a dermal regenerator over the petty officer's arm. “No hurry,” said Powell. Casually, he surveyed the room. Dalton made one more pass with his instrument and grunted. “All right, that's it. But be careful, won't you?” The petty officer rolled his eyes. “Of course, Doctor. Thank you.” He sighed wearily and swept past Powell into the corridor. The counselor looked up with interest at Dalton. “Do you get many compliments on your bedside manner, then?” Dalton narrowed his eyes. “I'm not a babysitter. Who are you?” “You can only be Dr. Dalton.” “There are two physicians aboard this ship. One is an impudent, wisecracking, though quite innocent looking, petite 27-year-old woman. I, on the other hand, am a serious, admittedly somewhat stern, man about ten years her senior with no sense of humor whatsoever, least for all for officers that come into my Sickbay, insult me, and then start trying to play guessing games with me. I don't imagine we're often confused. So, again, who are you?” “I'm Dr. Powell. Pleased to meet you.” “Doctor? Of what?” “I'm the new counselor.” “Of course you are. Did you actually want something, then, Counselor, or is this some sort of experiment for you?” Powell sighed. “That's 'Doctor', please; I used that particular word for a reason. I do actually hold a doctorate. If that's too much for you, Lieutenant Commander will do, and if you can't even manage that, then Powell will work in a pinch.” Dalton stared blankly at him. “Counselor is a perfectly acceptable and common title in Starfleet. Customary, even.” “Dr. Dalton, does anyone call you 'Physician'?” “Do you have to give that little speech often, then?” He shook his head. “Oh, wipe that glare off your face. I'll try to remember, how's that?” “I'm quite gratified.” “Fantastic. I have work to do.” “Don't worry, I'll be leaving now; I just came by to introduce myself.” Powell turned away and strode toward the door. “I find that difficult to believe.” “You would,” the counselor called over his shoulder just before the doors shut behind him.
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