Taking Over

Posted on Mon Dec 24th, 2012 @ 2:59pm by Captain Nathan Cowell MD
Edited on on Mon Dec 24th, 2012 @ 3:01pm

Mission: Funzone
Location: Bridge, USS Arizona
Timeline: Several hours following "Sweet Home Arizona"

[Captain's Ready Room, Bridge, USS Arizona]

Admiral Nathan Cowell stepped into the newly renovated Ready Room and nodded his satisfaction. His Chief Engineer had restored the compartment to what Nathan considered its former glory. Captain Haverson had been a man of excess as well as ego. He'd plaster 'I love me' paraphernalia all over the room and it hadn't sat well with Nathan one little bit. In place of the sickening displays over pretentiousness, the former drone had recreated with unnerving accuracy the items that had been adorning his walls and shelves prior to the first Arizona's destruction.

Hanging behind the desk was a replica of the Union Flag he'd been given after the American Civil War. Even the fraying on it looked the same. His World War I and II era medical equipment, framed uniforms, and decorations were all displayed proudly on the left wall. One the right wall, on a shelf above the couch that lined it sat the entire collection of books Nathan had brought with him aboard the first Arizona. And what was more; they were actual copies, not replicator copies. The boy had done his homework.

Nathan crossed the room and sank down into his chair, only to be instantly accosted by the infernal bleeping of the internal communications system. The old man toyed with the idea of ignoring it, as he often did. The chime called out from the speakers a second time and Nathan knew ignoring it would be futile.

"What?!" Nathan demanded impatiently, going as far as to slam his fist against the desk.

"Admiral Boyle is on a priority subspace band wishing to speak with you," the voice of Lieutenant Junior Grade Elizabeth Marion answered without so much as a missed beat.

"Shit..." Nathan growled, "Patch him through in here."

Rather than give a verbal response, Lt. Marion simply sent the transmission to the imbedded communications console of Nathan's desk, prompting it to emerge and blink through the Federation Seal then the Starfleet emblem and finally settling on the utterly unhappy face of his Deputy Chief of Staff.

"What Richard..." Nathan asked flatly, ignoring entirely the other man's foul mood.

"What do you mean 'what'? Where the hell did you run off to in such a damn hurry? One minute I'm organizing refugee efforts and the next minute Captain Rogers is in my office in a panic because you've cancelled every meeting on your books and disappeared on the USS Reliant. And then the Reliant Captain gives me a three day runaround claiming he doesn't know a damn thing. And that was nearly a week ago already. What the hell is going on?" Admiral Boyle vented.

"You done?' Cowell asked with an unimpressed look crossing his face.

"I just want to know what to tell people when they ask. So far I've run through the excuse list I normally have to use when I have to explain your erratic behavior but the well's run dry. I think I deserve some answers..." Richard explained.

"My old boat was in distress and the man responsible needed removing. Since your personnel gurus failed my ship utterly when they sent Haverson here, I took it upon myself to fix shit my way. He's in the brig, my crew is getting their head space and timing realigned and until I feel like leaving, I'll be running this boat again," Cowell explained abruptly.

"Nathan, I understand your affinity for the Arizona..." was about all Richard could get out before Nathan leaped into his backside.

"No you don't, boy. You didn't go through the hell we did. You weren't there to see her blow up. You didn't lose good people to the whims of a Q made machine and you didn't hand the people who survived over to some megalomaniac that killed or lost some of the best damn people in the Fleet. Haverson never should have been a Captain and too many people died to find that out. I owe these people the best damn commander they can have and there aren't any more qualified than me. So here I am, back to my ship. Handle business while I'm gone, I've got faith in you," Nathan said amid several fist to desk accentuations.

Richard had jumped a bit each time the fist had hit the desk. Admiral Cowell was known for a great many things, his passion for his people chief among them. There had been many times in the preceding months that Nathan had jumped to his own rescue with the same fire and brimstone now levied against him.

"Nathan... you can't be the Chief of Staff AND a Starship Captain," Admiral Boyle pointed out cautiously.

"I know that, boy, and I don't intend to do both. That's why you're going to take the job over and I'm going to stay here. I've already broken out the old Captain's uniform and everything," Cowell announced.

"I can't demote you... and I can't take over your position without Senate approval," Richard frowned, poking holes in Nathan's logic.

"Yes, I know that. That's why I already sent a message to the President. Got the signed order back an hour ago approving my temporary relief of duties. Technically I'm still an Admiral, but it does these people no good to be on their toes around me twenty-four seven. So I'm going to wear the old uniform, pretend I got demoted, and help them get back right. Least I can do, son... Least I can do," Nathan explained.

"How did you ever convince the President to...? Never mind, I think I already have an idea about that," Adm. Boyle paled a bit.

"Pretty close to the mark, I'm sure," Nathan chuckled, "So there you have it. You're in the big boy chair until I decide it's time to come back. Might be next month, next year, or in a decade, until then you're in charge of things. But don't think I won't keep tabs on what you're doing. If you so much as step on a bug I don't like seeing dead, I'll be back."

"You say that like you expect me to screw up..." Boyle frowned.

"Son, I expect you to learn by doing. I just don't expect the rest of the Fleet to suffer if you try to push the learning curve too far up for comfort. Now you press on... Admiral... and try to have a good day. Cowell out," Nathan said before unceremoniously 'hanging up' on the man.

With that piece of business finally in the bucket, Nathan rose and pulled his Admiral's pips off his collar, affixing the four loose pips that had once been his flavor and choice. He then tossed the overcoat of the Admiralty onto the couch and slid on the duty jacket that he'd missed quite a bit. Once his uniform was back to looking respectable, Nathan exited his Ready Room and approached the Command Chair, which had been recently replaced. It even had that new chair smell Cowell had missed so much.

"Computer, recognize Admiral Nathan Cowell."

The computer chirped that it had understood the command.

"Let the record show that as of this moment, I have taken official command of the USS Arizona. Transfer all command codes to me," Cowell declared.

"Please verify command authorization," the computer replied with a demand of its own.

"Cowell, Zulu-Eight-Two-One-Two-Zero-Four... enable," Cowell replied.

"Confirmed, all command authorizations have been transferred," the computer intoned.

Nathan sank down into the Command Chair with a pleased look on his face, "I'm back."