Commodore Scott sat at the head of the table, scowling. Admiral Davidson smirked and gestured to Lohman. Lohman sat, feeling out of place, sitting at a meal with two admirals. The food in front of them looked genuine, not synthesized.
“Might as well eat the good food now, son.” Commodore Scott said, a thick Scottish brogue distorting his English. He cocked an eye over the cadet uniform. “Where you’re going, it’s syntho for the next five years.” Lohman had to think for a minute or two about what the Commodore had just said, to decipher the words he’d actually said. Then he thought for a few more minutes about the implications.
“Commodore Scott, this is Joseph Lohman.” Admiral Davidson said. The Commodore grunted, cutting his meat. The Admiral was enjoying himself. “Captain Lohman is the young man who designed the Vengeance project.”
Scott stopped cutting his food and cocked a thick, untrimmed eyebrow. His eyes regarded Lohman with an appraising quality, clear and sparkling for a man in his 90s. “Are you?” He asked. There was almost an Irish lilt in the Scot’s Brogue, as he asked the question. The mustache twitched. “Well Captain, ye’ve wasted yer talents, going for command. Ye’d have made a fine starship designer. Or maybe a bonney engineer for a Constitution class Heavy cruiser.”
“I made too many enemies.” Lohman admitted.
“Did ye, now?” The Scotsman said, amused. Lohman finally recognized him. He’d grown a non-regulation beard to match his mustache, but the face was completely recognizable now. “Too many enemies… I’m surprised they didn’t make ye an engineer, indeed! Engineers always make enemies. Especially of their Captains!”
“Your Captain wasn’t an enemy of yours.” Lohman pointed out. He noticed Scott cut up all his meat into roughly similar sized chunks before he ate them.
“Fat lot you knew about Starship Captains, then!” Scott rumbled. He stuck a fork full of meat in his mouth. “All starship Captains hate their engineer. My Admiral hated me so much he wouldn’t let me transfer, now! I was stuck on a ship with him my entire career! Had to retire to be free of him!”
Admiral Davidson sipped his wine. “Sorry, Scotty, we can’t take you all that seriously. You had plenty of chances to transfer out and never took them.”
“I dinnae ask you.” Scott tossed back a drink and resumed on the meat. “Dinnae listen to Vance. He was in Jim Kirk’s Academy class. Tell me, boy… What made ye design the ship?”
“Instructor at the Academy. Said the Dreadnought was an obsolete design, and inefficient. Claimed it was so slow and bulky, a Hermes class Scout could blow it out of the sky. It irritated me.”
“He never had to fire impulse power and cross it into the shields to hold them up, like I did.” Scott said. He stuck a piece of meat into his mouth and chewed, regarding Lohman. “So you got mad and sat up all night working on it. Ye did all that work in one night.”
“Yes.” Lohman suddenly realized what he’d just heard. “You faced a Dreadnought in combat?”
“Aye. Not just any dreadnought, the only two ever made.” Scott said, waving a fork for emphasis. “I faced them both.”
“Both?” Lohman stared. He looked at Admiral Davidson quizzically.
“There was only one ever made.” Admiral Davidson said.
“Ye’re forgetting the Vengeance.” Scott said.
“There’s no record of any USS Vengeance.” Admiral Davidson said, irritated.
“Is there now? Then why did ye name the project after her? I’m telling ye Vance, I remember her. Khan Noonian Singh designed her.” Scott glared at the Admiral, who sighed. It was obvious they’d had this battle before.
“If you’d like, I can call one of those Vulcan scientists who specializes in space/time continuum disruptions. He verified that what you’re remembering never happened. Not in this universe.” Admiral Davidson said tightly, getting a little heated.
“And ye’re telling me that a Dreadnought never crashed onto Starfleet headquarters.” Scott challenged.
“Commodore, for the hundredth time. No, it never happened.” The Admiral said emphatically, pounding the table.
“We’ve only had this conversation six times, laddie.” Scott said mildly.
“Between all these universes and realities the Vulcans say this created, who knows how many times we’re arguing it right now?” The Admiral asked.
Scott scowled into his drink. There was no winning against Vance.
“Starfleet’s Military Operations agreed with my recommendation that Lohman be given command of the Federation.” The Admiral said.
Scott pounded the table, a sudden move for an old man. “There’s a smart decision out of Starfleet for a change!” He chuckled. “Sending him out for the fit out and shakedown, then?”
“Yes. He’s leaving with you in the morning.”
Scott looked back at Lohman. “Dinnae forget to change the Lieutenant’s bar to Captain’s bars, then.” Scott rumbled a laugh for a minute. “Lad, the first thing ye need to know about space is… there is no ‘first thing in the morning’. Now everything runs off the chrono! Stardate, your Captain’s logs, your chrono and your first officer… those are the things ye need to keep your head together on time!” He chuckled. “We were actually overdue by two days when we finished our five-year mission. That’s remarkable that a ship’s captain could only lose two days.”
Lohman nodded. He’d eaten only fitfully while listening, and Scott leaned forward and tapped the plate in front of Lohman with his fork. “Eat, laddie. Ye kin listen while ye chew.” Scott chuckled.
“Ye’ve got to get yer crew’s head wrapped around yer mission immediately.” Scott said. “Trust yer officer’s to knew their jobs. I had my work cut out for me with Robert April. Pike was different, all command. When Kirk took over, aye… it was rough for about three days. It wasn’t him getting used to us, it was us getting used to him! If there was a General Order, he managed to break it! And in every case, Starfleet agreed with him! Now, if you’re that kind’o Captain, then… good sailing! If yer any other kind a captain… well then, batten down the hatches, until yer crew figure you out! And until you figure out yer crew!”
The Admiral nodded. “He got high marks in Academy for leadership.”
“Did he beat the Kobayashi Maru?” Scott’s eyes twinkled.
“He um… broke the simulator.” The Admiral explained.
Lohman kept his face on his plate.
“Acts like Jim Kirk, doesn’t he?” Admiral Davidson chuckled.
“Aye.” Scott said. “That he does. Could be father and son. Looks like him, too.”
Lohman set the fork back down, uncomfortable.
“Aye. Ye should have been an engineer, laddie. Now it’s too late for ye. Starfleet’s got it’s hooks in you.” Scott shook his head. “Ya know… heaven is climbing up into a Jeffrie’s tube and fixing some live circuit. Happiness is the sound of warp engines humming under your feet. The Captain gives the orders, but you make it run… He says ‘fix it’, an there’s no way ta do it, but ye do it anyway… aye laddie, it’s too late for ye.”
“Why, sir?”
“Yer a Starfleet ship’s Captain now, laddie.” Scott said, kindly. “They really should’a made an executive officer out’a you first, but… nae, this way makes more sense. Ye dinnae have any mistakes to unlearn. Right into the fray, the way Jim Kirk did it. Lieutenant to Captain all in one day. Just like Kirk. Och, Ye’ll have a crew of 500 in aboot two months.”
“Maybe.” Admiral Davidson interjected.
“Why maybe?” Lohman asked. His stomach still wasn’t ready for food. It had been wrapped in a knot for the last three weeks, and finding that everything was going his way wasn’t changing anything.
“Because Starbase 12 is telling us everything is right on schedule.”
Lohman cocked an eyebrow, silent, waiting for an explanation.
“Aye, he’s a Ship’s Captain, all right!” Scott laughed. “Lad, it’s simple. No ship build of a new class ever goes according to schedule. Class ships always go into budget over runs and aboot twice as long as scheduled.”
“So they’re lying to us.” Lohman stated.
“Aye.” Scott nodded.
“You ready for a fight?” Davidson asked. “Remember the way you faced off against your old captain. Remember the way you showed up your Academy instructor.”
Lohman took a deep breath. “If I don’t get in any more trouble, I’m ready.” He said and let out the pent-up breath.
“Laddie… yer always in trouble as a Starfleet Captain!” Scott laughed. “Eat yer food, and we’ll be off.”
