Serendipity Strikes Again

Posted on Wed Jan 11th, 2012 @ 1:28pm by Captain Nathan Cowell MD
Edited on on Wed Jan 11th, 2012 @ 1:40pm

Mission: Crises and Consequences
Location: Various
Timeline: Two hours into Long Range Scans

[Bridge, USS Arizona]

Rear Admiral Nathan Cowell sat on the bridge of his ship, slowly drifting off to sleep now and again as the boredom of waiting for the Science Department to finish their damnedable sweep of the planetary system the Ferengi Chief Science Officer he had recently acquired had been so keen to explore. It wouldn't have been so bad except the Arizona was under yellow alert conditions while they sat a mere three hundred thousand kilometers from the Romulan Neutral Zone border. Granted, if anyone was nervous about being near the border, Nathan wasn't one of them. He really only brought it up as an afterthought to see just how ardent the Ferengi really had been about getting to do the scans he'd asked for. Lieutenant Junior Grade Devok's enthusiasm was unmistakable, and just shy of annoying, which made the Admiral rather reluctant to turn his request down.

The only problem Nathan was facing throughout the whole ordeal was how to stay awake. And even that wasn't much of a concern given that the ship seemed to run perfectly fine without his eyes being open. Something the old man had come to rely on during his year aboard the Arizona had been the crew that made everything happen around him. Even the newly acquired crew, from what he'd seen of them during their month in dry-dock, had shown him they too would come to be a fine group. Trouble was, only a hand full of them had been tested by fire...

From the forward console, a sharp chirp jarred Nathan out of his half-asleep state. His aging eyes struggled to focus on the back of the black haired head that sat at the forward console. Nathan knew who was there without having to actually clear his vision, the gray blur of the man's neck told him well enough that a Cardassian was perched at the Operations Console. It appeared as if the chirp was going to be one of those random annoyances that only jarred him temporarily out of slumber until Nathan heard Lieutenant Broca's voice.

"Admiral, there's a Priority One message from Starfleet Headquarters for you. Shall I forward it to your Ready Room?" the Operations Chief offered as he turned to face the Admiral.

"Yeah, might as well... No sense getting my ass chewed in front of people," Nathan grumbled, pushing himself out of the chair. He got about halfway to the door to his Ready Room when he turned toward Lieutenant Colonel Anastasia DeVries, "If Romulans come over the border, just shoot the bastards..."

"Sounds like a plan," Stace grinned.

Nathan didn't bother to retort, given that no retort really was needed. His First Officer's willingness to dispense violence and great bodily harm was at times rather beneficial... especially when they were sitting dangerously close to the Neutral Zone. The doors to the spacious office that sat adjacent to the large bridge compartment slid open as Nathan approached. Once inside, Nathan made a bee line for the desk, which featured the expandable screen that had already taken the liberty of rising to the occasion. Once the old man was settled, he hit the small communications command that accepted the incoming communique.

"Admiral Cowell," the image on the screen had barely flashed over to that of Vice Admiral Mackenzie Adams, a face Nathan hadn't seen in years. She looked good for her age, considering she was a few hundred years younger than Nathan. Her tone, however, was unmistakably business-like and that never carried with it a ring of anything but disaster... for Nathan anyhow.

"Kenzie," the old man greeted the woman, who couldn't help but smirk just a little at being called by a name the old man had called her when she'd been no more than twelve years old. Adm. Adams had been the daughter of one of Nathan's attending physicians during his tenure at Starfleet Medical, and she'd spent many years annoying the man with questions and just her mere presence in his office. For what it was worth, Nathan had been uncharacteristically tolerant of the child, though he would have explained it as merely a passing indifference to her existence. Even still, it was hard for the woman, now well into her forties, to deny the impact even his 'indifference' had made on her life choices.

"I have some urgent news that I need to pass on to you, Nathan," Mackenzie began before Nathan raised a silencing finger.

"Tell me it hasn't got anything to do with where I am or what I'm doing," Nathan said, his tone in no way inquisitive.

"No... it has nothing to do with you... directly," the woman assured him.

"Alright, carry on," Nathan relented.

"Thank you," Adm. Adams said before taking a deep breath, "Three days ago, the majority of the Fourth Fleet staff resigned or retired. Most of them have been returned to Fleet services elsewhere, and those that have retired aren't our problem anymore. What is a problem is finding suitable replacements for them."

"And that means what to me?" Nathan asked, unamused, "Not like I'm sitting behind a desk doing anything for the Fleet right now as it is."

"Perhaps not, but you are the senior most member of the command staff. Like it or not, Admiral... you've been selected to take over as the Fourth Fleet's Commanding Officer. You're also going to be given a two step promotion to full Admiral. I would congratulate you but I remember the last time someone promoted you, you disappeared for several months," Mackenzie said, only allowing herself the most brief of smiles at the end of her statement.

"Damn it all! Why can't you find some young kid to run things? I'm a ship Captain... note the word Captain! Ain't got no business running fleets and giving orders to huge numbers of people. I got the Arizona, I got my crew... I'm happy where I am!" Nathan protested.

"I'd love to help you, Nathan... I really would. But you're next in line and you've been assigned the position. Other staff members will be assigned as well, most of them from overmanned fleets, like the Seventh and Ninth. You're just going to have to follow some of your own sagely advice..." Adm. Adams remarked, leaving it hanging in the air purposely.

"Oh?" Nathan asked, his brow narrowing suspiciously, "And what's that?"

"Suck it up and get the hell over it. Crying doesn't do you any good and no one has time to listen to it," Mackenzie recited from her memory of Nathan during their first encounter, "If all you're ever going to do is cry, you're not going to get a damn thing accomplished in life and you might as well give up. Are you a quitter? You just gonna give up because you don't like something? Well, old man? You a quitter?"

"The hell... Look here, youngin', I've been commanding troops before your damn ancestors took to the stars... I'll be damned if I let some half-sized little booger eater call Nathan Cowell a quitter! I'll run the balls off the thing if I have to just to show you how it's done, little girl!" Nathan growled in contempt.

"I knew I could count on you... sir. I'm sure I'll see you at the next Admiralty meeting. Adams out," the woman said with a triumphant smirk before the comm died.

Nathan leaned back in his chair with a grin of victory until his words actually had time to sink in. By then it was too late to argue, too late to appeal... he'd been had... Nathan slammed his fist against the desk in frustration. He'd hoped that he'd have gotten a demotion, a transfer... something that got him away from the politics and red tape that surrounded the upper echelons. Now, despite all efforts to the contrary, Nathan WAS the upper most part of that echelon.

"Damn it all to hell!" Nathan shouted in frustrated anger before he pushed himself away from his desk. Whether he liked it or not... he was an Admiral, and he had to start acting the part. Or at least looking it. He stopped off at the replicator for a new set of rank insignia before departing the Ready Room to return to his bridge.

The looks on the faces of all those that hadn't just transferred aboard reflected the despondence he felt... or perhaps it was the dread they were feeling after having been witness to the last time Nathan had gotten a promotion. Either way, he appreciated that very few people were any more thrilled with it than he was.

"Damn..." Col. DeVries whistled in surprise, "Didn't think you'd manage to make Admiral that fast. What did you do? Tell them a story until they handed you rank?"

"Not funny..." Nathan grumbled as he sank back down into his chair.

Stace let out a sharp laugh, "The hell it isn't! You're the only man I know that gets promoted sleeping on the job."

Nathan shot the woman a death glare that had absolutely no effect whatsoever. Stace had been around Nathan long enough to know he wasn't nearly as frightening as he pretended to be. In the greater scheme of things, the two of them were a good pairing, given that Nathan wasn't nearly as dangerous as he seemed, and Stace was twice as dangerous as she put herself out to be. Regardless, Nathan was silently thankful that she was around, it added a dynamic to life that he wouldn't have otherwise had with someone else.

"At least I'm recognized for what I'm good at..." Nathan grumbled as he leaned back in his high backed chair.

"Nobody could ever do it better, old man," Col. DeVries said with a smirk.

As Nathan's eyes started to drift close he muttered, "Damn straight..."