“I’m only following your lead, Captain,”she heard Klisiewicz’s voice repeating in her thoughts. “We’re in the same boat, you know? And if you’re not getting out, neither am I.”
“Think Starfleet would approve a field promotion from ensign to lieutenant commander?” She smiled at the thought, ridiculous as it may have been. Khatami already had put in a request to promote Klisiewicz to full lieutenant, a rank commensurate with the level of responsibilities he currently held. While Starfleet had not yet responded to the request, she figured there was no need to push her luck. Releasing an amused sigh, she said, “Computer, delete that last remark.”
“Deleted,” the monotone, feminine voice replied.
Khatami regarded the follow-up mission to Erilon as a success save for the unfortunate loss of three more members of her crew, serving as a small measure of emotional closure for her transition to command and stating in no uncertain terms that it was time to move on. While Commodore Reyes had said as much during her post-mission debriefing even as the Endeavourwarped back to the station, Khatami herself still harbored no small amount of insecurity about her abilities, particularly as they stacked up to the challenges she knew lay ahead.
You got lucky this time, Tish. The next time won’t be so easy.
The tone of her door chime sounded, pulling her from her reverie and the pool of doubt into which she felt herself plunging. “Computer, end recording,” she said, relieved by the welcome distraction. “Please, come right in!”
Dr. Leone was standing at the threshold as the door slid aside, his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes crushed into his characteristic squint. “Captain,” he said, his expression communicating his discomfort, “I was just passing by and I, well, didn’t know whether you’d had dinner yet.”
Shaking her head, Khatami replied, “Not yet, no.” She waited to see if the doctor would venture into the room on his own accord, and when he did not, she gestured to him with a smile. “You’re welcome to join me if you like.”
Leone nodded several times in quick succession as he entered, his lips pursed in a tight grin. “Well, I hadn’t had a chance to check in since we returned to Vanguard,” he said, hovering over the empty seat near her desk. “CMO protocol being what it is and all, it’s good form to check on the commanding officer’s emotional well-being from time to time, particularly after a stressful assignment. You know, make sure the burdens of command aren’t weighing too heavily, that sort of thing.”
Suppressing the urge to giggle, Khatami replied, “I understand.”
“So, things seem okay then?”
Khatami found herself flattered by Leone’s awkward display. Though public expression of friendship or support was by no means the doctor’s strong suit, there was no mistaking his genuine concern for her. At the same time, she understood that he was not seeking emotional reciprocity.
“I think so,” she replied. “I was just finalizing my decision to appoint my new first officer.”
“Well, it’s quite an honor to even be considered, Captain. I accept,” Leone said as he sat down in the chair opposite hers. His expression remained neutral for several seconds before he added, “By the way, if I ever say that again, feel free to have me locked up for psychological evaluation, and if you thought I was serious, even for a second, then make sure you book yourself into the padded room next to mine.”
Now she did laugh, welcoming the rush of warmth that came with it. Though others might take exception to his sardonic personality, in his own way, Leone always had been able to put her at ease.
“So,” she said after a moment, “tell me about this mysterious outbreak you contained down in the mess hall the other day.” Feeling a hint of mischief taking hold as she noted Leone’s worried expression, she fought to school her own features. “I seem to have misplaced your official report on the incident.”
Clearing his throat and appearing as though he would rather be somewhere—anywhere—else, the doctor shifted his position in his seat. He even raised a hand in an animated attempt to respond, but as soon as he opened his mouth, she saw comprehension dawn. “It was a minor outbreak, Captain, nothing too serious. I was able to…initiate quarantine procedures and keep the reaction from spreading, if that’s what you mean. I’ve stayed on top of the situation, but it appears my single application of the treatment regimen is proving effective. I don’t expect there will be any new flare-ups.” He squirmed in his seat again, the expression on his face indicative of someone who might just have sat upon an unexploded photon torpedo.
“Ah,” Khatami said, folding her arms across her chest and nodding as she listened to the rambling report. “Well, while I appreciate your initiative, Doctor, it’s my opinion that you pursue other ‘treatments’ from now on.” When she finally did smile, she leaned across the desk toward him. “I’m sure the idiot deserved it, but I know I’ll need time to earn the crew’s respect. I also know I need to earn it on my own.”
Leone nodded. “Understood, Captain,” he replied. “And…may I speak freely?”
“You’ve been doing that for as long as I’ve known you, Tony,” Khatami said, laughing again. “Permission retroactively granted.”
“For what it’s worth,” the doctor offered, “I think you’ve done a hell of a job. Captain Zhao’s a hard act to follow, and I know it takes time to figure out your own way, but I think you’ll do just fine.”
Khatami smiled. “This isn’t just another prescription morale booster, is it?”
Shrugging, Leone replied, “When it rains, it pours.”
The door chime sounded again, and when Khatami gave permission for the caller to enter, she turned to see Mog standing in the doorway.
“I’m sorry, Captain,” the burly engineer said by way of greeting. “Am I interrupting?”
“Not at all,” Khatami replied, gesturing for him to enter. “Dr. Leone and I were discussing a few things before I take him up on his dinner invitation.”
Turning to stare at the doctor, Mog affected a mock expression of shock. “You? By Kera and Phinda, I’ve finally lived long enough to have seen it all.” His eyes narrowing, he asked, “Are you feeling well? I hear there’s something going around on the lower decks.” Leone’s reply was limited to a pained grimace, more than enough to elicit a bellowing laugh from the husky Tellarite. To Khatami, he said, “So, is there room for one more in this party?”
“Only if you eat something that doesn’t smell like it’s been rooted out of a silage pile,” Leone said as he rose from his seat, shaking his head. “Sometimes I think Tellarite cuisine was developed as the result of an elaborate dare.”
“That doesn’t stop you from enjoying my bojnoggiin the mornings,” Mog noted.
“I’m having it scanned for addictive substances before I drink another drop,” the doctor replied, wincing as he headed for the door.
Khatami turned to follow him when she felt Mog’s hand on her arm. Waiting for Leone to walk out of earshot, the engineer looked to her. “From the looks of things,” he said in a low voice, “the doctor beat me to it, but I’ll say it anyway. Captain Zhao would be proud of you.”
The words, soft and sincere, embraced Khatami with the warmth and comfort of a favored blanket. While she knew that Mog’s support and loyalty to her was absolute, it still felt good to receive affirmation from one of her closest and most trusted friends. “Thank you, Mog. I appreciate that.”
“Hey,” Leone said from the corridor, poking his head through the door. “You coming or not? I’m hungry.”
Mog chuckled as the doctor’s head disappeared again. Nodding toward the door, the engineer said, “I don’t think he ever visited Captain Zhao. That has to be a good sign.”
Feeling her inner demon recede somewhat in the face of her friend’s observation, Khatami nodded with a conviction she had not felt in some time. “I’ll take all the good signs I can get.”