Professional Courtesy

Posted on Thu Jan 8th, 2026 @ 5:57am by 1st Lieutenant Chaol Westfall & Lieutenant Nathan Cole
Edited on on Thu Jan 8th, 2026 @ 1:22pm

1,500 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Long Night
Location: Challenger
Timeline: Mission Day 1 at 1100

[NX-03 Challenger]
[Forward Starboard Armory]
[January 2nd, 1100 Hours]

Nathan stood at the tactical console, running one last diagnostic on the phase cannon targeting systems. The forward starboard armory hummed with the quiet efficiency of a space ready for launch, weapons secured, ammunition stocks verified, security protocols locked in. Around him, his division worked with focused precision, checking and rechecking every system one final time.

He'd been at it since 0600, fueled by coffee and the particular brand of nervous energy that came with knowing Challenger would be leaving dock in a matter of hours. The Captain's briefing was scheduled for 1500, and Nathan wanted every armory station green across the board before then.

His PADD chirped with an incoming notification. Nathan glanced down, reading the personnel roster update. The MACO detachment was officially aboard; two fire teams plus their command element.

He set the PADD down carefully, jaw tightening. Captain Curry had objected. Nathan knew she had. She'd wanted her armory division to handle ship security, wanted to keep the lines clear between exploration and military operations. And Command had overruled her anyway. That was what stuck in Nathan's throat more than anything: seeing his captain's authority undermined, seeing Starfleet bent to military priorities.

Nathan understood the reasoning, even if he hated it. The Romulans weren't backing down. The Orions were unpredictable at best, hostile at worst. Two fire teams made tactical sense. But it also made Starfleet something it wasn't supposed to be. The United Earth Space Probe Agency existed to explore, to seek out new worlds and new civilizations. Not to wage war. That's why most of Earth's old militaries were winding down, their missions complete. Unity was supposed to mean moving past that.
MACOs were remnants of an older Earth, one Starfleet was meant to transcend.

But orders were orders. Nathan had coordinated with Lieutenant Westfall over comms: equipment storage, training schedules, the necessary logistics. Professional. Efficient. He'd do his duty.

The main hatch cycled open. Nathan turned, expecting one of his division chiefs, and instead found himself face-to-face with purple hair and the distinct charcoal uniform of a MACO officer. "Lieutenant," Nathan greeted, his tone even and correct. "Nathan Cole, Chief Armory Officer." He paused, adding with careful formality, "Also currently handling partial XO duties until Starfleet sends someone permanent." His eyes held steady on Westfall's face. Polite. Professional. But there was a guardedness there, a line quietly drawn.

"I'm guessing you're Lieutenant Westfall," Nathan continued. "What can I do for you?" The words were courteous enough, but the warmth Nathan usually carried was absent. This wasn't personal; Westfall probably hadn't asked to be here any more than Nathan had asked for MACOs aboard. But it was principle. And Nathan wasn't about to pretend otherwise.

Once all the necessary tasks were completed, such as equipment storage, training schedules and the necessary logistics. All done over comms, Westfall found Lieutenant Cole to be professional and efficient. It had been a pleasure to get all that sorted and ahead of his expected timetable, given Starfleet discontent for MACOs. Westfall had returned the same professionalism and systematic conduct towards the Chief Armoury Officer but waited to surprise the Lieutenant with his excitement to be on the Challenger for when they now met face to face. He entered the Forward Armoury that Cole was rostered to be in.

Once Cole finished his introduction, Westfall offered one hand. "Yes, 1st Lieutenant Chaol Westfall at your service, Lieutenant." Chaol introduced himself, while he smoothly snapped to attention and saluted with the other hand. "I look forward to working with you and your division to protect the Challenger and her crew, sir." He raised an eyebrow. "There's no Executive Officer. Launch is quite soon." That concerned Westfall a little. "As you said partial XO duties, may I ask who else is assigned the same?" Chaol's smile had an excited child vibe to it as remained at attention. Cole was acting Executive Officer and Westfall wanted to make it a point that he acknowledged it.

Nathan extended his hand for a handshake instead, meeting Westfall's salute with Starfleet's less formal greeting. "Appreciate the sentiment, Lieutenant," he said, his tone even and measured. "I'm sure we'll figure out a working rhythm."

Westfall's salute hand went to hold Cole's hand and shook it once before he let go, he remained quiet. His smile still in place. He put his hands behind his back after assuming an at ease stance while Cole continued speaking.

He glanced briefly at his PADD before meeting Westfall's eyes again. "As for the XO situation, you're not wrong to be concerned. Command's stretched thin right now, reassigning experienced officers to the front lines. Captain Curry's been pushing for a permanent assignment, but until then..." He paused, considering how much detail to offer. "Lieutenant Sousa and Doctor Saensuk are handling crew communications and needs coordination. I've got the tactical planning and operational oversight. We're dividing the load until Starfleet sends someone."

Nathan shifted his weight slightly, not quite relaxing his posture but acknowledging the conversation had moved past formal greetings. "The Captain will brief everyone at 1500 hours. You'll get the full picture then." He tilted his head fractionally, his expression neutral but not unfriendly. "Anything specific you need from Armory before launch? Storage access, training schedules, ammunition requisitions? We've got your equipment locked down, but if there's something I missed, now's the time."

The offer was genuine, professional. Nathan might not like having MACOs aboard, but he wouldn't sabotage their ability to do their jobs. That wasn't who he was.

"I hope it is resolved swiftly," Chaol began, "as you have tactical planning and operational oversight, I'll report to you, unless the Captain orders otherwise. Is that agreeable, sir?"

Nathan considered that for a moment, weighing the protocol. Westfall was right to ask. MACOs reported to the CO and XO, and with Nathan handling operational oversight and tactical planning, that put him in the chain of command whether he liked it or not.

"That's correct," Nathan confirmed, his tone professional. "MACOs report to the CO and XO. Since I'm covering part of those duties until we get a permanent XO, yes, you report to me for operational matters. Captain Curry has final say on everything, of course, but day-to-day coordination runs through me."

He paused, then added with careful honesty, "I appreciate you asking instead of assuming. Shows you understand the command structure, which makes things easier for everyone." Nathan's expression remained neutral, but there was a flicker of something that might have been grudging respect. Westfall was doing this by the book, following proper protocol. That counted for something, even if Nathan still fundamentally disagreed with MACOs being aboard in the first place.

"Once we have a permanent XO, that'll likely shift," Nathan continued. "But for now, yeah. You've got questions, operational needs, anything that requires command decision, you bring it to me or the Captain."

He glanced at the chronometer. 1140 hours. The briefing was getting closer, and he still had reports to finish. "Anything else you need before the 1500 briefing?" Nathan asked, the question genuine but also offering Westfall an out if he was ready to wrap this up. "Otherwise, I need to finish prepping the armory status reports for the Captain."

"Understood and no sir, I should prepare a report on my fireteams readiness and equipment status for the meeting as well," Chaol saluted and went to at ease. "Permission to be dismissed, Lieutenant?"

Nathan nodded, appreciating the formality even if it reminded him exactly what Westfall represented. "Dismissed, Lieutenant. See you at the briefing."

He watched Westfall salute and turn toward the hatch, purple hair catching the overhead lights as he moved with practiced military precision. The armory felt quieter once the MACO officer was gone, the usual hum of systems and his division's work settling back into familiar rhythms.

Nathan returned his attention to the tactical console, fingers moving across the display to pull up the next set of diagnostics. But his mind lingered on the conversation.

"Could be worse," he thought, pulling up the phase cannon status readouts. "Westfall's professional. Follows protocol. Doesn't seem like he's here to step on toes or play power games."

That counted for something. Nathan had encountered enough military types over the years to recognize when someone was more interested in their own authority than the mission. Westfall didn't give off that vibe. He'd asked the right questions, acknowledged the chain of command, offered to help without overstepping.

"Still doesn't change what they are," Nathan reminded himself, jaw tightening slightly. "Still doesn't make it right." MACOs aboard Challenger. Soldiers on an exploration vessel. The lines between Starfleet and the military blurring in ways that made Nathan's skin itch. But if he had to work with military personnel, at least Westfall seemed like he'd make it professional rather than painful.

Small mercies. Nathan pulled up the armory status reports and got back to work. The 1500 briefing wasn't going to prep itself.

RSS Feed