The Right Fit

[Sorehl 0]

From his vantage on the lower level of engineering, Sorehl glanced up at the chronometer above the Main Situation Board. A full ten minutes remained before the conference being convened by Admiral Day. With repairs proceeding smoothly, Sorehl had sufficient time to review his own task list.

 

He lifted the PADD. An incoming message from Lieutenant Commander Corris Sprint confirmed that the official handover of Empok Nor was still on schedule. In less than two months, Sorehl would be out of another job. The station operations officer had explained that Ambassador shiKatsu Raumuk was even trying to accelerate the transition. In doing so, the Andorian diplomat was also hastening the departure of Starfleet from the station.

 

Sorehl made a mental note to compose personal commendations for his outgoing staff. It was entirely possible his activities aboard Excalibur would preclude his attending the station’s transition.

 

He had already composed messages for his wife and children, advising them of the generalities of his present assignment. While the particulars of their forey into the Gamma Quadrant remained classified, he could still report his posting aboard the starship and an expected duration. Logic suggested it would not be permanent.

 

Despite his career, despite the war, they had managed to spend most of the past eight years together as a family – it was not an aspect of life he was willing to change. Indeed, he had turned down command of the Galaxy-class Columbia to ensure it. While no location was safe from danger, as they’d learned on Betazed, he could not reconcile ordering his family into harm’s way.

 

His task list noted a Science advisory regarding bacteria detected on the Excalibur hull. Pursuing the details of Xiang’s summary, Sorehl surmissed it was an anaerobic organism, apparently able to subsist on the ceramic-polymer fabric bonded to the tritanium exterior. Curious, he thought, consulting his memory. It was not unlike the attachment of microbiotic colonies onto several Klingon ships fifteen years ago near Starbase 179. He passed along the incident report to Science, noting the use of a tunneling neutrino beam to remove the organism without injury. Such a solution may be problemmatic for a cloaked ship moving at warp, but it might blow the sand away from the eyes. He paused briefly, considering the Vulcan idiom.

 

His foremost concern was a need to address the engineering department – set their expectations and establish his own. He reflected briefly on the daily breakfast meetings with the science department on Starbase Aegis, when he had assumed the role of chief. Later, as commanding officer, he’d had to discontinue the tradition, but in those simpler days the informal setting had helped the scientists build a team.

 

He had already reviewed the personnel records of his Alpha shift officers. Lieutenant Feanor had an impressive background in starship engineering and operations, if not an occasional lapse in discipline. His work in signal emissions might lend itself well to their stealth assignment. Ensign Xavier’s record was less detailed, more notable in its omissions than its contents. But the human’s work in tactical systems would given them a shared specialty, while his experience with warp theory would compliment Sorehl’s own lack. Starbases rarely went to warp, as he was often reminded. Ensign Velores had amassed a broad blend of skills – impulse engineering, sheilding, transporter technology, and database management – that would serve well in starship integration. He would make note to ask if she had considered a postion in diagnostics.

 

He glanced up at the chronometer. Four minutes remained until the Admiral’s conference. Although his input would be desired as a Dominion advisor rather than chief engineer, Sorehl considered merely patching into the meeting. Given turbolift efficiency, he gave himself two more minutes to decide. He would also need to ask Lieutenant Commander Deveraux to have quarters established for him in the secondary hull. No sense being too far from his post.

 

Sorehl tugged at his engineering vest. Was it the fit of the garment or himself that concerned him more, he mused. He chided himself for the introspection and went back to work.