The Sky's the Limit - Marco Palmieri [7]
It was just as well, because Patterson and Satie had just arrived. They were apparently involved in a discussion that interested them both greatly, but as soon as Satie spotted Thomas, she stopped talking and instead waved him over to her.
“Captain, may I have a minute with you?”
“Certainly, Admiral,” Thomas said, knowing now with certainty what was to come. “Let’s step over to the chief engineer’s office. Sarah, you don’t mind, do you?”
The blond officer just shook her head, pretending to be busy with that padd in her hand. Involuntarily, Thomas smiled. Sarah was a very strange person, sometimes. One thing she didn’t like at all was being forced to interrupt her work for seemingly insignificant tasks. Kowtowing to VIPs was apparently just such a task.
“Now, if you would step in here, Admiral,” he said, gently guiding Satie into the alcove to the left. It wasn’t the best place to have a private conversation, but it would suffice. Besides, everybody on the ship—and, indeed, in the entire Fleet, quite probably—would know about it in the morning, so privacy was not his foremost concern.
Having moved into the CE’s office as far as was possible, Satie crossed her arms over her chest and looked sternly at Thomas, who was reminded of the headmistress from his boyhood school in Pune. And just as with that headmistress, he decided to get it all out now, as quickly as possible before she could cut into him. The chance was that it would be less painful that way. “Admiral, there’s something you need to know.”
“Yes. That much is obvious. There’s an air of unease about you, of unhappiness and discomfort, that is difficult to overlook.” Satie was smaller than Thomas, yet her presence was such that he almost felt he had to look up to her. “I spotted it weeks, perhaps even months, ago, and it troubled me then. It’s worrying me now. What is on your mind, Captain?”
“Many things, I’m afraid. But the most important one, the one that you need to know about, is my realization that this is not for me.”
Satie didn’t follow him fully, and he could not blame her. “Please be more specific. If there is a problem, we need to address this in detail.”
“I agree. I realized that whatever my title is, I’m still an engineer at heart. Even if I am placed in the center seat on a starship’s bridge, I don’t have the abilities to take that ship out to explore. This isn’t what I want to do.” Immediately after he had said it, he knew that he had phrased it wrong.
“My dear captain, this is not a weekend golf club for centenarians! Starfleet’s an organization that depends on its members doing what they are expected to do even if—and that is the important part included in the oath you once swore—it means going against your own petty desires. People depend on you, and you depend on them.”
“I know, Admiral. Believe me, I know. My word choice was unfortunate. What I wanted to say is that I know where my talents lie. Space exploration isn’t what I do best; in fact, it’s far from my area of expertise. There are many who can make the transition from one track to another, even one so huge as this, easily and without negative repercussions, but I fear I’m not one of them. The simple truth, Admiral, is that I’m an engineer, and I want to do engineering things. I know that I can serve the Fleet best that way. Not by exploring, not by commanding.”
Satie seemed to need time to ponder, and so Thomas fell silent. He had absolutely no idea how this night would end as there was no way to predict Satie’s reaction. Thomas didn’t know her that well, after all. They had talked occasionally, usually about the ship’s construction pace, sometimes about potential crew choices, but they didn’t know much about each other. At least Thomas didn’t know much about the admiral. In all likelihood, the reverse was not true.
Finally, she replied. “It is always good to know what you