Captain to Captain
Posted on July 2nd, 2016 by Kathryn Harper

by Rhodri Griffiths and Kathryn Harper

His fingers tapped out a melody, loud in the silence of the bridge where each contour was designed to make sure the Captain’s orders were heard clearly even through the din of battle. The viewscreen was blank except for the other ships waiting in space with the Jormungandr, likely in exactly the same position. They’d been waiting for days now, waiting for Starfleet to finally give them to green light to return to Sigma Rho. How much longer were they going to have to wait?

Griff let out a breath. It wasn’t just the waiting; he’d been putting something off for a while now and it had started niggling at him. He checked his console, noting that there was still nothing to be done, then finally pushed himself out of the Captain’s chair and stood up, the action drawing a look from the other crew.

“Toma, take the bridge. I’ll be in my ready room, I have a call to make.”

His Deltan XO nodded, taking the center seat—somehow looking as alert and on point as if they were in the middle of full combat operations—while Griff stepped down to the side and into his ready room, fingers running across the bare walls, nothing to personalise or give character to the unfinished starship.

A few minutes later, he was staring at the terminal on his screen, watching and waiting as the spinning symbol notified him of a connection to the U.S.S. Atlantis and her new Commander.

Aboard the Atlantis, Captain Harper was summoned to her ready room with notice of an incoming communication. The room was starting to take on more of her character and less of Admiral Blackthorne’s, but his collection of liquors still stood prominently, as if it were a memorial display. Kate sat down at the desk and activated the terminal, accepting the incoming connection, and then smiled as a familiar face appeared on the screen.

“Captain Griffiths! To what do I owe the pleasure of this call, sir?”

Griff returned her smile, facing the screen with his hands resting on the desk – the stark contrast of their two ready rooms was quite apparent.

“Hello, Kate. Just Griff will do now – I hear some congratulations are in order, although I truly wish they could be given under better circumstances.”

In her surprise over suddenly hearing from the man who had earned her respect during the S.T.A.R. mission, it had slipped her mind that they were now equal in rank. Giving the less-formal address a try, Kate answered, “Griff, of course, thank you. And yes, so do I. It has been a difficult time for the crew, but we are managing.”

“My condolences, they were two of the finest officers in Starfleet and their presence will be missed onboard the Atlantis, and in the Third Fleet. While nobody could fill their shoes, you’ll make a great Captain and yours will grow just fine into the hole theirs left.” He offered her a warm smile touched with emotion, the best he could do across countless light-years, along with a solemn nod.

After discarding her momentary confusion about the size of her shoes versus those of the deceased, Kate figured out the sentiment of the message. “Thank you. It has been, well, shall I say, a learning experience?”

“Your first few months in the big chair always are. Starfleet can put you through years of training, simulations, ethical dilemmas, but it takes time in the seat when those decisions actually matter to understand it fully.”

“So I have discovered,” Kate replied with a slight laugh before hopefully asking, “Any advice from an experienced hand?”

Griff sat back in his chair for a moment and thought, trying to put himself back to when he first took command and the advice he might have welcomed.

“Listen to your crew, accept their advice, but know when to put your foot down. The hard choices are always on your shoulders; the burden will be yours to carry for the rest of your life and it’s difficult to understand unless they’re the ones in that position. Don’t be afraid to make the hard calls and to follow through, even if it isn’t the most popular option.” Griff’s soft smile was suddenly touched by sadness, the corners of his lips turning down slightly in remembrance.

“The Bremen had been infected by an airborne parasite. We were cut off from the Engineering decks, under quarantine, while this hostile lifeform took over the bodies of my crew. I ordered drive plasma to be vented across the infected decks…I made one of the hardest decisions of my career, killed my crew to stop the infection spreading, but the most difficult part was fighting with my own bridge crew on the correct course of action. I hoped they’d be able to find a cure, a solution, but there was nothing…We wasted time, lost more decks to this infection while we debated and fought…”

He shrugged uncomfortably, putting the memory back down into the recesses of his mind where it belonged. “Trust your crew, but don’t forget to trust yourself.”

Horrified at both the situation Griff had described and the terrible decision that he had to make in response to it, Kate abruptly found herself questioning her own suitability for this job. Starfleet was rife with macho rhetoric about the Captain having to be the one to make the tough calls, but could she make that decision? And if she knew in advance that she could, what would that say about her? Regardless, suitable for it or not, she had this job to do, so Harper decided to suppress her feelings of inadequacy for now and hope that such an awful improbability would never happen to her ship.

With a grim expression, she finally managed to respond after a couple of uncomfortable seconds. “That is a lesson I will never forget.”

He nodded, sharing a solemn silence with her for a few moments. Shrugging it off as best he could, he looked across the monitor at the Captain on the other end. “There’s no experience quite like being in command of your own Starship, Kate. Those hard decisions, those tough calls, are few and far between – and what fills the rest of the time will be some of the most fulfilling moments of your life.”

“Thank you, Griff,” she answered, leaning forward to catch his eyes with hers as best she could through a screen. “I needed that perspective, and I do not think it is ever effectively taught when preparing people for command. I do not envy you that decision, and hope I never have to make one like it. But so far, I have found this new role to be fulfilling and rewarding.”

Griff’s smile returned, his face softening, “You’re going to do well. The Atlantis may have lost their best pilot in you, but I think they’ve gained an amazing leader. You and the Atlantis will always be welcome at Sigma Rho, once we’re back on our feet.”

“I will ensure that we make it there. It would be good to see you again, and after all, I do need to see what you have done with the Rho since the last time I saw her.”

He chuckled quietly, “It’ll take a while, the S.T.A.R. mission made quite a mess. But I think we can get her back to a reasonable enough shape for the Sigma refit. Starfleet has given us a spacedock too, so once we’re back up and running we can even start to do refits of our own on larger vessels – it’s good, good things are happening, and we need those in these times.”

Kate managed a smile that was as much to reassure herself that good things were, in fact, happening as it was in reply to him. “We certainly do. Thank you for contacting me, Griff.”

“Anytime,” he replied, “Sigma Rho is always at the Atlantis’s disposal. Keep in touch, Kate.”

“Likewise, and you do the same, my friend. Harper out.” Kate closed the commlink and looked around the ready room, her gaze finally landing on the bar. She stood and approached the collection of liquors almost reverently, eventually selecting a dusty bottle of Risian brandy that she chastised herself for being surprised to find. Of course, it was only natural that the Admiral would have had it; her homeworld produced excellent brandy and his taste was impeccable, after all.

Regarding the bottle for a long moment, Kate found herself ruminating that not long ago, this situation would have tempted her to drown herself in it. Now, instead, she simply poured herself a single drink and put the bottle away, then silently raised her glass in toast to Vice Admiral Ian Blackthorne and Captain T’Kirr.