The Chief Comes Aboard

Posted on Fri 10th Feb, 2017 @ 12:50pm by Colonel Horatio Drake

673 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Wrongs Darker Than Death Or Night
Location: Deck 12: Main Operations
Timeline: Pre MD-01

“I’m not calling you sir... I’ll call you many things... but I’m not calling you sir”

Drake was re-calibrating the secondary phaser targeting scanners from the tactical station in Ops. With the upcoming diplomatic talks, everyone was busy in preparation; even the tactical department, who were barely at half strength still. He didn’t mind though... not only did he enjoy virtually every aspect of his old department, it gave him a sense of belonging and purpose.

The voice came from behind him... he could tell someone had just come out of the main turbolift. The Operations Centre on a starbase was a very different beast to the Main Bridge of a starship. A Bridge requires only the personnel who are manning the stations… usually Senior or Junior Officers. In contrast, a Starbase’s Operations Centre was a hive of activity... there was no protocol about who and who not was allowed in it and at any given time there were around fifty officers and enlisted personnel scuttling about getting on with one job or another.

He instantly recognised it… the thick, Northern Irish accent unmistakeable.

He turned to see a middle-aged man in a green Marine uniform standing a few feet away from him. The rank insignia told him the man held the rank of Sergeant Major; something that could only be achieved through hard work and time served. His face, evidence of battles fought, some won, and some lost – he was a man of experience and it showed. Flimsy, floppy, anti-regulation hair that was now turning a dark shade of grey sat atop piercing blue eyes. Drake knew this man... he knew him well...

“Sergeant Major... do you think that’s funny?” Drake tried desperately to keep a straight face.

“As a matter of fact, I do… and it’s Chief Warrant Officer now, not Sergeant Major”, evidently he wasn’t finding it as difficult to remain straight-faced.

Drake could restrain himself no longer; he broke into a massive grin and cleared the few feet separating them in less than two seconds before embracing the Chief as if meeting a long lost brother.

“Jesus Christ man, I can’t breath! Get off!” The Chief blurted out.

Releasing him he held him by the arms and took a long look into his eyes, “Gray, it is so good to see you!”

“Likewise” he replied, a small grin creeping onto his face as well.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He questioned, now leaning against the console.

“Well, I wouldn’t expect you to read your own manifest now, would I? Starfleet clearly doesn’t trust you on this beast on your own – I’m your new Command Chief!”

“Command Chief?! I didn’t even know we were getting one!”

“Well... I had to pull a few strings and a couple of favours, but here I am.”

“Chief Warrant Officer? Who the Hell managed to convince you of that?”

“Ah, I couldn’t handle them going on about it anymore… they wanted to give me a commissioned rank and I wanted to remain a Sergeant Major… we met in the middle.”

Drake had met Winchester when serving on the USS Jakarta, he had shown him what it was really like being a Marine. The two had become very close and Drake leaned on him a lot when Patrick passed.

He was one of the most highly decorated Marines in Starfleet’s history. He had served in virtually every major Marine skirmish for the past thirty years… but had refused to go past the rank of Sergeant Major. Any promotion beyond that rank would have, undoubtedly, seen him further away from the action and the troops and lumbered with more administrational work. Perhaps he was getting mellow in his old age, Drake mused.

“Where are Sarah and the kids?” Drake quickly added.

“On their way… now, how’s about we get a wee drink and you can tell me all about the things you’ve broken so far…”

 

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