From: "Amy Gross" 
Date: Tue, 8 Apr 1997 04:56:29 +0000
Subject: USS CHESAPEAKE: Emerging from the Ready Room

SD: 90408.0845
MD: 4.1000
Scene: USS CHESAPEAKE, Ready Room
     She felt as if she'd been in the same chair for days. 
Captain Amanda Bell shoved a stack of PADDs off to one side of
her desk and exhaled slowly.  They had a full complement of
senior officers now, which was saying something.  The Marines
were here, which was, perhaps, not quite so much a cause of
celebration for her, but she resolved not to judge all of that
branch by her experiences with one insolent MCO on her first
command.  At least, not right away.
     The CHESAPEAKE's CO leaned back in her chair and stuck one
hand in the top drawer of her desk, feeling around until she came
to a small tin.  She retrieved the case, opened it, and took out
a small, transparent, reddish bit of hard candy.  She opened her
mouth and placed up absently upon her tongue.  Damn...watermelon.
She had been sure she'd picked all of those out beforehand.
     There were innumerable messages waiting to be read.  She
quickly scrolled down the list, managing to ignore pretty much
all of them.  The standard requests for appointments from the CMO
and the CNS, which she would probably have ignored the first few
times no matter what the state of her inbox.  Time enough the be
pronounced sane and healthy once she actually felt she had
achieved that state.
     Bell glanced over at her seahorses.  They seemed to be
adjusting nicely.  She wondered briefly if some questions about
them might lure the veteranarian/CMO up to the ready room for a
cursory type of medical exam.  The prospect of avoiding sickbay
altogether was an appealing one, and even failing that, it would
be nice to know that her pets would be in professional hands.
     In any case, her legs were starting to lose feeling, and she
decided to venture out to the bridge.  Her stiff knees protested
as she stood, snapping noises issuing forth as she stood and
flexed them.  She spit the offending candy back out onto its
wrapper, then deposited it in the recycler.  It was time to have
a look at her chair.

************************
Scene: USS CHESAPEAKE, Bridge
MD: 4.1115
     The officer on duty immediately stood, snapping to attention
and calling out, "Captain on the bridge!"
     Of course, she would never admit it, probably not even to
herself, but Amanda Bell enjoyed that moment immensely--enjoyed
the sudden jolting of heads belonging to a dozen races, all
stopping in their undoubtedly important work to gawk at--her!  It
was quite a feeling, and she looked over the crew mildly as she
took her chair, motioning them back to work.  She noted, in
particular, the redheaded officer down at Flight Control and
realized that this was the fellow who had had the close encounter
with the waste disposal area yesterday.  She sighed inwardly and
turned to the armrest of her chair, punching a few buttons.
     First order of business...a vague, noncommittal note to Dr.
Ledoux explaining that she would report for her physical sometime
soon after launch, and that she had a few questions about her
aquatic friends in the meantime that the CMO might be able to
help with.  For a brief moment, she wondered if the question
would offend the doctor--she certainly was the sensitive sort. 
Then she pushed the send button.
     Next order of business...an even vaguer promise to the
Counselor who, she reasoned, probably had her hands fuller than
she had ever imagined at this point, anyway.
     She studied the bridge crew for several seconds.  They
seemed suitably busy.  How to look similarly busy, without
actually looking at more paperwork?  She picked up a PADD and let
her mind wander.
     Bell had, of course, heard about the various adventures in
readiness drills that had been taking place over the past few
days--she did have her channels, after all.  She momentarily
considered going down to check out engineering and another of her
new crew members, then decided that it wasn't worth the
discomfort that area of the ship always seemed to bring her.  The
answer was, she decided, fairly clear.  She'd pay a visit to
Science.  And see if it was still standing.  Right after lunch.

***********************
Scene: USS CHESAPEAKE, CSciO's Office
MD: 4.1300
     Lunch had stretched out a bit longer than Bell had planned,
as it had a tendency to do at times like these.  Try as she
might, her eyes had often as not strayed to the PADDs she had
pushed to the side of her desk.  Still, she was here now, and
determined to see for herself how the much-commented upon Murray
was faring.  If there was any sort of strain...well, Bell was not
a trained counselor, but she knew distraction when she saw it.
     The expected disaster area did not emerge as Bell entered. 
Everything was...neat, fairly orderly...really, what she had
imagined the place would look like upon her first meeting with
the CSciO.  The officer in question was seated at her desk, a
vaguely worried expression on her face.  The CO fixed her
"benevolent but detached Captain" look on her face as Murray
looked up.
     "Good afternoon, Lieutenant.  Do you have a moment?"
     Anne nodded and began to stand, but stopped and resettled
herself in her seat as Bell took the chair opposite.  "Of course,
sir."
     Bell smiled slowly and nodded.  "Good."  She paused, looking
around the room once, then turned back to Murray.  She had never
been good at small talk, and it showed.  "The department is doing
well?"
     Murray startled inwardly, but decided to play it safe. 
"Everything's fine, sir, yes."
     The CO nodded.  "Good..."  She lapsed into silence again,
then finally hit upon something.  "I had been wondering...about
the Doctor.  She left the mess in a hurry the other evening after
talking to you."  She paused, beginning to feel like some sort of
schoolmarm.  "I have no problem with professional disagreements,
Lieutenant, but...what did you do to her?"
     Murray raised one eyebrow.  "It....it is difficult to
explain, sir, without a demonstration."
     Bell was beginning to feel uneasy.  "What kind of
demonstration?"
     "Well..."  Anne bit her lip in concentration.  "What is the
greatest responsibility of a starship commanding officer,
Captain?"
     Feeling like she was answering an Academy entrance exam
question, Bell automatically replied, "To carry out her--or his--
orders to the best of her--or his--ability while doing everything
possible to ensure the welfare of the crew in doing so."
     Anne nodded.  A rather workmanlike answer, but who knew? 
The Captain might very well have believed it...  "Which is more
important, to save lives or to maintain non-interference?"
     "Non-interference, when those involved are not under our
auspices.  Prime Directive, Lieutenant."  Bell sat back,
wondering at which point she was supposed to get upset.
     "Is there a time when the Prime Directive hinders more than
it helps?"
     Bell frowned.  "In what sense?  It can certainly hinder
things for others, but it clarifies my decisions somewhat."
     "What is the most difficult command decision you've ever had
to make?"
     A sudden image of a viewscreen, showing another bridge,
darkened and nearly deserted, burned itself across Amanda Bell's
mind.  Oh...this was the part.  Still, she mustered up a closed
smile and looked at the CSciO.  "I have never yet made a decision
that I was not later convinced should have been done otherwise."
     Murray stopped short, wondering what she had said.  She
decided against pressing the issue (she had more than enough to
contend with at the moment without an irate CO), and merely
nodded.  "Certainly, sir."
     Bell sighed inwardly.  Inquisitive, but seemingly stable;
her work here was finished.  She offered up another smile and
stood.  "I believe, Lieutenant, that I've taken up enough of your
time.  I shall look forward to working with you."
     Murray nodded and gave a polite, noncommittal reply.  Within
moments, the CO had spun on her heel and exited, leaving a
somewhat baffled woman in her wake.

*********************
Scene: USS CHESAPEAKE, Ready Room
MD: 4.1600
     The message in front of her was clear.  Having holed up in
her Ready Room again for the past few hours, Bell was, in a way,
relieved to finally have something more weighty than manifests
and requisitions to look at.  Their orders were in.  She looked
over a short missive she had drawn up, then pressed the send
button.
     Seconds later, every member of the senior staff was informed
of the mission briefing to take place the next day in the
observation lounge, at 1500 hours.

NRPG:
All:  It took forever, and it's not all that much, I know. 
Mission briefing is scheduled for MD 5.1500.  That post is in the
works now, but feel free to post your character reporting in to
it.  Also, thanks to Masako for providing her input on Murray a
long while back, and I'm sorry it took me so long to run with it.
Masako: Hope I didn't butcher Murray.  Feel free to come after me
with the carving knife if I did.

Respectfully submitted,
Capt. Amanda Bell, CO, USS CHESAPEAKE
Amy Gross, ag8836a@american.edu

Go to messages for April 1997 or Main Archive Page