Chapter Text
Stardate 60054.8, USS Vancouver, Duty Officer’s Log. We have completed the installation of the space elevator at —”
A cough from behind interrupted Lieutenant (Senior Grade) Bradward Boimler. He glanced around the nearly empty bridge at the Vulcan officer manning the science station who had broken his train of thought. T’Lyn coolly raised an eyebrow, fixing him with an impeccably neutral expression. Brad rolled his eyes and sighed.
“I mean, we completed the installation of the new planetary orbital lifts,” T’Lyn gave him a barely perceptible nod, “on Velara Prime, as part of the follow-on operations after second contact by the USS Carlsbad. Despite the usual challenges of any large-scale engineering project—time, materials, malevolent alien entities—the combined crews of the Vancouver and the Carlsbad collaborated to complete the construction of the elevator and rescue those crew members trapped in the petroglyphs by the—”
“Hostile, anomalous entities with non-baryonic structure that exist in a state of quantum flux,” T’Lyn supplied helpfully.
“The evil ghosts,” Brad added, raising a hand to forestall the incoming correction. “Please reference Lieutenant T’Lyn’s reports for a more detailed explanation of the phenomenon. I would also like to commend her for devising the method to rescue the trapped crew, as well as Lieutenant Kari Kearns for leading the construction crews seconded from the Carlsbad to support our engineering teams. Both proved highly effective in the crisis, protected the lives of others, accomplished our mission, and reflect the finest traditions of… etcetera, etcetera.”
Now that his train of thought had run out of track, Brad hovered his finger over the ‘record’ button on his datapad to end his log when he noticed T’Lyn standing beside him, wordless. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but T’Lyn plucked the pad from his hands before he could speak.
“Lieutenant Senior Grade Boimler also deserves recognition for his leadership of the mixed rescue and construction teams. First, by personally installing the psychic resonator despite immediate danger from the entities with non-baryonic…” She frowned. “The evil ghosts. And then personally activating the orbital lift’s stabilizer array after ensuring the evacuation of all crew members.” She tapped the pad and looked up to meet his eyes.
“Why?” he asked.
“During our association, I have noticed you possess an unfortunate habit of deflecting praise you deserve onto others. Ensuring that others are recognized for their efforts is laudable, but denying your own impact on events does not serve the needs of the crew, Starfleet, or yourself.”
Brad was fairly sure he had never heard her say so many words at once, much less such complimentary ones. “Thank you, T’Lyn. That’s good advice—I’ll make sure to remember it.” He gave her what he hoped was a genuinely appreciative smile.
“You are welcome, Lieutenant,” she said as she brushed a few stray hairs behind her ear and returned her focus to her displays. “You are an effective officer, and I have enjoyed our collaborations. We should continue them.”
Brad nearly dropped his datapad in surprise; he was quite certain T’Lyn had never spoken to anyone like that before. He made a mental note to run diagnostics later, just to ensure they hadn’t picked up any stray viruses, plagues, or “non-baryonic” possessions while planetside.
“Good idea—great idea, really. I like working with you too. You know, ‘Cerritos strong!’” He gave a halfhearted fist pump before letting his arm drop. T’Lyn regarded him with another expressionless stare, her dark eyes studying him with no discernible emotion. Luckily, his datapad began flashing with an incoming call, and he waved it vaguely.
“I should probably take this in private,” he babbled as he edged toward the conference room doors under T’Lyn’s unblinking gaze. “Looks like it’s Kearns. She might need help with her report. Don’t worry, I’ll take all the credit this time.” He laughed weakly, waiting for her to blink or breathe—anything. He felt like a mouse eyeing a cobra.
“That is not the lesson to take from our conversation.”
BLINK
The spell broken, Brad spun around and promptly smacked into the wall before stumbling into the conference room. He rubbed his nose and forced a smile as the door slid shut behind him.
“Hey, Kearns, how are you?”