Monday, December 7, 2009

[USS Charon] SD240912.06 || Duty Log || Cmdr. Ian Lamont - "Bridge Duty"

U.S.S. Charon
“Bridge Duty”
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Ian Lamont, having been appointed acting executive officer by the captain stepped onto the bridge after his quiet conversation with Lt. Athalla.  Seeing Lt. Tyrax injured in the hangar bay was still weighing heavily upon him despite his attempts to accept what he had seen and move on.  One of the reasons he had left Starfleet for the diplomatic corps was to use his talents to prevent the needless waste of life in incidents exactly of the type the Charon now found herself.  Her injuries as well as the others he had witnessed felt as if someone had attached a heavy weight in a pack for him to carry.

 

Lamont’s thoughts shifted to other matters as he silently pondered the motives of their attackers as he entered the bridge.  What could the Romulans gain by ambushing an exploration vessel with limited tactical or military value?  The Charon was a fine ship, but certainly no extraordinary trophy.  The entire situation made no sense.  It was unlike the Romulans to risk a diplomatic incident or possible war with an unprovoked attack.  The questions that swirled about Lamont’s head only led to more.  The ships that had attacked were older vessels.  The D’Deridex, while still potent, was not the Romulan’s best, nor were the other ships that had been fielded against the Charon.  The ships that had attacked were older, almost outdated vessels.  If the Romulans wanted to capture the Charon or perhaps someone aboard then why risk the mission with a fleet of obsolete ships?  The Romulan tactics, from what little he knew, seemed odd.  He was no tactician, but Lamont was versed in Romulan negotiation and that gave him perspective on how Romulan’s behaved, acted, and reacted given various situations.  They could be as cunning sitting across a table as they could at the helm of a warship which is why this entire affair seemed wrong on many levels.

 

Lamont had no answers for his questions as he rounded the corner of the bridge to report to the captain.  The situation and indeed his own curiosity demanded he ask the captain for her thoughts on such matters.  She would no doubt have a unique perspective given her equally unique background that is if she was in the mood to speak to him about such things.

 

Ian rounded the bridge only to discover the captain was not here.  Odd.  It was unlike her to leave her post especially under these circumstances.  Lamont asked the Caitian helm officer, M’Rairr about the captain’s whereabouts and learned she had left to oversee the rescue of a trapped crewman on one of the ship’s decks that had taken heavy damage.

 

Lamont looked around the bridge with an odd sense of trepidation.  It was a good thing Cyrin wasn’t here to point out his emotional state.  With the captain gone Lamont swallowed feeling the uncomfortable weight of responsibility upon his shoulders.  If the Romulans suddenly appeared could he handle it?  He figured there was only one way to find out assuming the worst actually happened.  Making his way to the captain’s chair his hand lightly grazed its surface.  Without giving himself time to second guess his intentions, Lamont turned and lowered himself into the chair.

 

Much to his surprise it felt like an ordinary chair at first impression.  Actually, it felt a bit sub-par.  The cushioning could stand to be improved and he couldn’t feel any real lower back support.  Perhaps this chair was the cause of some sliver of Rehu’s consistent agitation?  After sitting for hours on the bridge stuck in this seat Lamont felt he too might be somewhat uncomfortable having to deal with himself after a long day.

 

It was at that moment that Lamont noticed the eyes of the bridge crew upon him.  Then it hit him how truly difficult it was to actually sit in the seat he had planted himself in.  He had been second officer upon the Lexington during the last war.  The captain’s chair was nothing new to him as he had been allowed brief periods of command duty during Delta Shift and during uneventful transit from one area of the quadrant to another.  It never seemed all that different to him then.  The chair hadn’t changed, but perhaps he had.  Suddenly, with the eyes of the crew upon him, the seat he was filling seemed much larger.  Gone were his worries about its cushioning replaced by the concerns of the ship, its crew, and indeed its survival in hostile waters far, far away from any safe harbor.

 

Lamont asked for a status report and repair estimate if only to reassure the staff he had some idea what he was doing.  Bridge operations were not unknown to him, but he was inexperienced and out of practice.  Hopefully neither would show too much.

 

Staring into the nebula before him on the viewscreen, Lamont felt the unusual grip of tension.  Within the swirling miasma of colored gas clouds were enemies attempting to either hurt or destroy them.  The clouded display added to his own feelings of foreboding.  This was no negotiating table.  He couldn’t bend events to his will sitting in this chair as he could in a negotiation.  The players were the same, but the game was vastly different as were the rules and the stakes.

 

Lamont tugged slightly on his tunic adjusting his uniform attempting to do so as nonchalantly as possible.  He suddenly had a better appreciation for certain aspects of Rehu’s position.  He couldn’t say he envied her, but at least he was beginning to understand some small fragment of the world she was accustomed to.

 

A voice suddenly interrupted Lamont causing him to jump ever so slightly.  Looking upwards a crewman held out a padd.  “The status report you asked for sir”, he said.

 

Lamont thanked the officer and took the padd.  The ship was in tough shape.  Damage reports were severe.  Engineering was stretched to breaking with all shifts and staff working overtime just to keep pace with repairs.  Security was just as busy assisting with repairs, evacuating damaged areas, and keeping constant watch against vulnerable areas of the ship in the event the Romulans again appeared.

 

Lamont was shocked to read a preliminary debriefing report about activities on the planet.  The Romulans had apparently fired a biological weapon at the planet’s surface and had succeeded in killing many of its inhabitants.  The fragmented report was chilling.  Had the Charon stumbled across illegal testing or some Romulan act of revenge?   If so was that the reason they were being hunted?  Was it possible they had simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time?

 

Lamont set down the padd and rubbed the bridge of his nose.  Conflict was such a waste.  There were times it was necessary, like now, when ones life depended on fighting, but even in the act of necessity the costs were high.  He wished there was a diplomatic solution, but even he was not so naïve to believe that was now even a possibility.  Ingenuity, guile, tenacity, luck, and a will to win was what was needed now for the Charon to escape her predicament.  Rehu belonged in this chair.  All he could do was keep it warm until she returned.  It was a frustrating realization, but Ian couldn’t argue with the logic.  He was out of his league.  He only hoped Rehu returned soon.  The thought of issuing orders with multiple ships bearing down on the Charon was not something he was enjoying contemplating.

 

“Communications, continue scanning for any transmissions that might help us locate the Romulan vessels”, Lamont said.  “Tactical, OPS, keep a sharp eye out for anything unusual out there.  Report any anomalies.”

 

Leaning back, Lamont took a deep breath and forced himself to relax if only slightly.  Damn he could use a drink right now.  He wondered if Rehu ever felt this way?  Did she grapple with such emotions or was she simply immune to them after years of combat and service?  He didn’t know.  Given their frosty relationship he doubted he would ever obtain an answer to this or any other of the questions swirling about his mind.

 

As much as he hated to admit it, he had gained a great deal more respect for the captain.  It was difficult to admit, but sitting here Lamont had a new found appreciation for the weight of command.  All he could do was sit and wait while watching the nebula on the screen for some clue as to their enemy’s whereabouts and wondering if they would survive the latest trouble the Charon had somehow again stumbled into.

 

_____________________________________

Commander Ian Lamont

Diplomatic Advisor, USS Charon

(Acting Executive Officer)