Between Enlisted and Officers

From TFC Galactopedia

Michael McLoude smiled as he picked up the stylus for his PADD for his last report to Starfleet Command before his ship pulled clear of the yards. With that done he smiled and turned to working off some of his admittedly nervous energy. All these years he thought with a smile as he began sorting the books to the shelves he had had the crews transport into the ready room, and he still was nearly about to explode with nervous energy. It would not do for the crew to see the captain jumping around, bending over their consoles, and generally making a nuisance of himself. That would have never done, and his crew would also begin to wonder about him he knew. He also knew Mika had her paws full finalizing the schools, and getting into her hair would be quite the bad idea as well, and Mika would have his ears for it as well. One thing about growing up with the canine you would marry; you learned things sometimes others did not. So, instead, he began carefully placing selections of his personal library on the shelves

As he was thumbing through his copy of the Tome of Khaless the chime to his ready room went off. He blinked and looked up. “Enter.”

Command Master Chief Kavee had to duck slightly to enter the ready room, and the bear stiffened to attention immediately. Starfleet didn’t salute anymore but that really didn’t matter, Kavee cut quite the figure in his uniform. “Sir.”

Michael smiled at the Brikar. Actually older than Michael by a decade and a few years, he had been an instructor in survival courses at the Academy when Michael had attended, and battered the then Cadet McLoude into a passing grade. He’d also served aboard his father’s command, the Agamemnon before Michael had even gone to the academy. He was a being that Michael respected immensely, and he had been overjoyed that he had been able to coax the distinguished and veteran NCO onto a starship at least one more time.

“Master Chief, I was just sorting my collection…” he said with a smile holding up the Klingon text. “How are things in the enlisted ranks?” The Command Master Chief most important task was to act as an intermediary between the enlisted personnel and the captain. There was a saying in the blue water navy from the old United States his father had told him once: ‘The Captain is God Under Sail, the Master Chief is His Prophet.’ While such sayings were not quite put about in Starfleet, it still remained that the highest ranking NCO of a ship was a valuable commodity that any captain worth his pips would listen to, and listen to quickly.

“Well Captain, I had a few bunk problems to sort out with those without family aboard, nothing deck shattering though,” he nodded to Michael as if to permit him to continue to shelf the books and the younger canine had to try very hard to keep a straight muzzle, remembering a time when Kavee had scared him out of his wits. “The tactical boys and girls are rather glad they’re not going to be spending their running time staring at bulkheads, smart idea to schedule the PT routines in the holodecks. Lieutenant Thamone a smart boy,” only a Master Chief could get away with calling a Lieutenant ‘boy,’ “He’ll make his family proud. Give me two years or so and I’ll have him ready for command school. He takes after his mother, hopefully he’ll be able to control the Thamone Temper, it got her in a few problems when she was a cadet.” That was another one of his jobs, taking officers he felt worthy of greater things under his giant arms for tutelage for their next step, even if they never realized it till later.

“Good, I know he’s eager, but what Caitani isn’t, especially a young male his age,” he chuckled. “You think he’ll be ready in two years?”

“Maybe less sir,” he said, still not breaking a smile. It was odd at times, talking about his officer with an NCO like this but no one on the ship had any more experience than he did. “Commander T’lara agrees with me, though she’ll put things more logically than I ever would into her fitness reports, you know how I operate sir, not very logical.”

“You’d be surprised Master Chief, sometimes you can be more logical than the Commander, but I won’t let slip that its not always your gut your following.”

“Thank you sir,” Kevee said finally with a small smile, then Michael noticed something, the giant bear was still standing at attention. That had never happened as far as he could remember.

“Something wrong Master Chief?”

Kevee blinked a few times, that was it, that was the only real clue Michael had to his inner thoughts. He had the stone mask on, the one he had when acting as ‘the prophet of the captain.’ Something had happened and he was trying to figure out how to report it, that meant it had happened between two officers. Michael frowned and sat down the book. “Ranks off Petre,” it was a phrase his father and later Allen Rikes, his best friend, had taught him of, one that the bear would know. It meant that for the moment, the two were equals easing Kevee’s thoughts on talking of something that had happened between two officers in his presence. “What happened?”

“Thank you sir,” Kevee nodded. Even though Michael had said the ‘ranks were off’ he would not drop the fact that Michael was the captain. “There was an… exchange while you were escorting Admiral Ortegi about the ship, between his aide de camp and Gigi,” Gigi von Katchner and her husband Karl, an engineering officer were two other officers Kevee took special interest in, he thought the slightly unsure chief helm officer had great makings in her. “Captain Rumsfield, well, to put it bluntly sir, he gave little Gigi the rough side of his tongue. You know how she and her husband speak German? Well, it appears Captain Rumsfield took exception to that, there are some officers in the fleet you know that want to rid their people completely of any other language than Standard English.”

Michael tried hard not to snort at that, he would never do that to his people, after all, how could he, he spoke several languages himself as part of his hobby of Linguistics and books. “I have a feeling that’s my fault Master Chief, he and I had a disagreement in front of the Admiral, and I think he was still fuming over how he was dismissed.”

“That… explains his temper sir,” the brikar said diplomatically, but then sighed and continued on. Kevee judiciously decided not to tell his captain about Rumsfield’s threat to throw Gigi into the McKinley brig. That would have done the captain no good to know, since the incident was past, and he would have exploded anyway for such treatment of his people. The Captain was a good officer that way, just like his father had been. “Suffice to say, Gigi’s a little rattled sir, I just happened to be in the shuttle bay checking on a couple of the ratings when it happened and diverted Captain Rumsfield, still, I lost Gigi when I was done cooling the captain down.”

Michael nodded slowly. “I’ll talk to her Petre after the launch ceremony, thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

The massive Brikar nodded with and then turned to leave, but smiled turning back before he did. “Oh before I forget sir, I have a couple things I need to give you.”

“Master Chief?”

The huge Brikar smiled and handed over a rather elegantly worked and polished wooden case. Michael was not all that surprised really that the Master Chief had hid it in his paw. “This is a present from me Sir, think of it as a commissioning gift.”

Michael blinked and looked at the box, it an engraved version of the Starfleet seal on the top, inlayed with gold, not something at all easily replicated. Carefully unlatching it, he opened it to find a polished brass Bosun’s whistle again with the Starfleet seal hammered into the ball that helped produce the sound at the fore end of the instrument. Engraved and inlaid with what looked like silver was the inscription: ‘Captain Michael Collin McLoude, USS Galaxy (NX-70637).’

“I made sure what I got you contained things that couldn’t be replicated at all well,” while replication technology worked well on foodstuffs and minor parts and such, such intricate working could only have been done by hand. “I will need it back though for this afternoon,” he gave a smile. “I intend to use it to pipe your orders to take command.”

Michael carefully closed the lid of the case and handed it back to the Brikar nodding. While the boatswain’s calls for ceremony could very easily have been done by the ship’s computer many in Starfleet, especially those with families that had long traditions, distained the computer for a real call for the ceremonies that required it. “I already know the place of honor it will have Master Chief,” the akita-inu said with a smile. Under the single viewport in his ready room, he thought, on a display stand for it. He’d have to see if he could find a crewman that had wood working as his hobby to make the stand.

Kevee smiled and nodded. “Yes sir, and, if you will permit me to use the transporter in here sir? I’ll bring in the other gift.”

“Other gift Master Chief?”

Kevee nodded. “Yes sir, this one is from all of us, the enlisted personel on the ship that is, your father told me about it when he found out I was going to be on your first command.”

“My father?” Michael was admittedly rather confused.

“Yes sir, if I may have your permission?”

Michael nodded in a bit of confusion and Kevee smiled. "Mr. Tarpon? He has given permission, go ahead and beam it in.”

And with that a rather large plaque appeared on Michael’s desk through the transporter effect. Michael could see why he had wanted to beam it in, it was rather large and would have created a spectacle most likely if he had lugged it in through the bridge. On the plaque there was a brass etching of the Galaxy in formation with four other ships, and he blinked when he realized that it was in formation with the USS Agamemnon, his father’s ship before they had pried him away from it to become an admiral. Next to the Bradbury-class vessel his father had commanded, was an Excelsior-class, representing his grandfather’s ship, the USS Illustrious. Finally in the head of the formation was a ship that was absolutely tiny especially compared to Galaxy, but he recognized it all the same, a United Earth Navy Daring-class cruiser, and he knew it had to represent the Endeavor, Jason McLoude’s ship. Under the brass engraving was a list of every McLoude that had captained a ship, from Jason McLoude, up through to Michael himself.

“Your father has one like it he’s kept in his ready and flag rooms ever since his enlisted people gave it to him when he took command of the Aggie. Your grandfather as well, goes all the way back to when Jason’ McLoude’s daughter Ria took her first command and her enlisted people made one for her. Think of it as a show of respect we give the McLoudes we serve under. I knew you’d never seen your father’s, so, I also knew you’d be surprised.

That it had, and Michael smiled at the Brikar. “Thank you Petre, and yes, I am surprised, and very touched.”

“Your welcome sir, I shall see you this afternoon and thank you for looking after Gigi for me.”

“My pleasure Master Chief, she is, after all, one of the crew, what sort of captain would I be if I didn’t look after my people?”