Fear Itself

[Chirakis 1]

Fear Itself

Chirakis

 

Be not afraid of greatness.

Some are born great,

some achieve greatness,

and some have greatness thrust upon them.

~Wm Shakespeare,Twelfth Night, Act 2, Scene 5

 

 

Except for daily reports, the routine challenges of keeping a starbase on an even keel, and the juggling of transports, cargo ships, shuttles, runabouts, droid tenders, fighters and assorted other craft through flight corridors, all was quiet in Aegis’ Command and Control. Chirakis Kirel, standing watch while Commander Coleridge tended to his newly acquired duties as Officer in Command of Aegis, passed her time as usual. She monitored tactical, wandered among the stations and occasionally paused for a conversation. When she was satisfied that the universe would not end, she pondered less pressing issues, but today? As though her mind was its own master, it insisted on continuing a thread that had emerged recently: why do some seek command and why do some shun it?

 

Kirel knew full well why she had shunned it. The need for diplomacy often forced her to resolve issues through words instead of actions, and the nature of a command desk was… well… restricting. Given the choice between discussion and battle, she preferred the latter. Given the choice between a desk and a fighter, she preferred the freedom of a fighter at warp five over a desk at warp zero. End of story.

 

And yet, there are those who seek command, whose sole aim in joining Starfleet is to command a starship. Why? she had to ask herself. In answer, she received several reasons—some good, some not so good. Some had done so for altruistic, selfless, noble causes such as defending the Federation and protecting their homelands. And on the other end of the spectrum, there was the likes of Kirk.

 

There are those whose sole aim is fame and social status, and James Tiberius Kirk fit into that category. Was he following in the steps of his father, or was he rising to the challenge of Captain Pike, and, in essence, thumbing his nose at the nemeses of his childhood? Which was hard to tell, but whatever his motivation, in the desire to prove himself, he wasted the expertise of his crew and endangered their lives. Instead of overcoming the pretense, conceit, and recklessness that destroyed his childhood, he embraced them into adulthood. He took personal control of missions instead of trusting the skill of his crew, often put them in mortal danger, and sacrificed several ships for the sake of his ego. Oh, there were others, but Kirk was the epitome of conceit in her mind.

 

Then there was Coleridge. As senior officer in engineering, he had weathered complex issues, endured endless setbacks in his attempt to control an aging, mismatched station that seemed to have a life of its own that included a slow, painful death. When given full rein, he puzzled over renovations and merged various technologies into a workable, though tenuous reconstruction. She had watched him engage his subordinates, encourage them, and direct them with uncanny ease. Finally, he had played an integral part in the design and engineering of the present station.

 

And yet, he shrank from command.

 

As he emerged from his office, he was wary, tense, and distracted, which made the crew weary, tense, and distracted—not a good situation should a problem arise. And yet, his tension was not of fear. No, it was of doubt.

 

“Commander, may I have a word?”

 

In the privacy of his office, one word turned into many, though she did not intend it.

 

“I have seen many thrust into command who should not be there, and I have seen many shrink from command who should be there,” she began in a calm and quiet, yet direct manner. “There is a reason why you were chosen to command this station, Commander, and you are more capable than you are willing to admit to yourself.”

 

“I hope you're right.” His words came with cautious uncertainty, and a hint of fear. Not of the enemy, but of failure. “If this were another time, maybe I’d feel more comfortable,” he sighed, “but things seem very … tense. I was never interested in making decisions that affect so many people.”

 

“But you always have made those decisions, Commander, and you have succeeded,” she countered. “You just do not realize it. May I suggest that you put aside your thoughts of the size of the station and the number of people, and take our situation one step at a time.

 

“Are we, at this moment, in danger? No, we are not. Might we be? Of course. And when we are, we can defend ourselves, and defend ourselves well. Your crew is more than capable, the defense grid is ready, and USS Toronto with its task force is within easy reach, ready to protect and defend. That is all you need to dwell on now.”

 

The self-assurance was slow to come, but come it did. “You’re right,” he said cautiously and measured. Then, “We have this under control,” held more confidence. But it was his colloquial “I have this,” that indicated his firm resolve. Together, they emerged from his office, and for the first time, his uniform fit.