Taking Post

Posted on 06 Aug 2014 @ 10:23pm by Major Richard Sharpe

1,046 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: M12: For Duty or Honor
Timeline: Following the events of "Free Time"

=/\= Marine Country, Deck 12 =/\=

It was chilling entering the office of the Marine Commanding Officer, knowing that just a day or so ago, it had been Captain Post's office. As he approached the doors, they parted as they recognised their new occupant, allowing Sharpe to enter the room. It looked roughly the same as it always had, except for the missing personal effects of its previous inhabitant. Devoid of these touches, it looked just like any other senior officer office aboard the Achilles.

He'd already moved to his new quarters on deck three, which again, had been Captain Post's quarters. What few things he wanted in his office, he'd had shipped from his old office to his new one. For starters, his new office was twice the size of his cupboard of a room further down the corridor. The desk was in the middle of the room, with two standard chairs in front of it, and a larger office chair behind it. Being standard Starfleet issue furniture, the desk was light grey with a shiny black wood inlay, and the chairs being beige fabric. Off to the right, in the corner by the door, were two couches fixed to the wall, to form an 'L' in the corner, with a small glass table in the actual corner with a vase.

On the far wall behind the desk was a small-ish window on the outer hull. In the far right corner was a door to his private bathroom, and in the far left corner was a display cabinet. Sharpe moved over to this unit, carrying his tuff-crate of possessions, and began putting up his display of old Earth weaponry. Each pistol was in full working order, although the ammunition for it would be stored in a locked compartment of his desk. His pride was his heavy cavalry sword, that he mounted on the wall above the sofas. The traditional wall mounted display of his medals and awards was placed on the wall on the other side of the main doors.

The last personal items he had left were the ones he put on his desk. A small holo-photo frame of his old unit in a group photo, smiling and grinning just prior to the mission where they were killed. A brass eagle bust went next to this photo, being the symbol of the marine corps, Sharpe felt it fitting to have this in here.

Despite the change in occupant, the workload hadn't changed. There waiting for him on his desk were fitness reports, security briefings, situation evaluations, material condition reports, and a list of infractions by members of his unit. It became readily apparent quite how important his role had been as XO to keep most of this crap off of Post's desk. With the lack of an XO, he really was going to have to carry the detachment, along with everything else he had to do. The biggest issue he had was the constant need to rotate squads into security.

The Admiral, in some desperate need to get the departments working with one another, had insisted that all marines be rotated into security assignments on an off/on basis. This particular order was proving easy enough to instruct, difficult to execute. With the marines constant need to be at the top of their game, constantly training for every conceivable scenario that the ship could face, having a third of his force off standing around outside rooms or patrolling the corridors seemed an unnecessary irritation. At least they had a dedicated deputy security chief now, so Sharpe didn't have to do that job anymore.

Richard would execute the orders he had been given, although he had his reservations about it. His first decision was to send a message to Sergeant Major Velez, since he was without an XO, he would need to rely heavily on the Sergeant Major to assist in the running of the Detachment. Sharpe was no fool, and he knew that whilst he was the titular head of the unit - the Sergeant Major was the heart and soul of the detachment. Utilizing that expertise would be a vital first step - and he was well aware that his second bar on his uniform didn't endow him with godly knowledge. He knew his limitations, and hoped that Velez would support him.

A few names cropped up on a fitness report, ones that Sharpe remembered seeing on other reports he'd endorsed as XO. He made a note to talk to Velez about Sergeant Brianna, Private Eirias & Staff Sergeant Frey. Interfering in enlisted affairs wasn't really his job description per say, but he was the CO, and he did have a right to handle his marines. But he'd do so with the support of the Sergeant Major. Given that he was now very much the only commissioned officer left in the detachment, he'd have to be very careful how he handled things.

The memories of his first command weighed heavily on his mind, as he looked around the office. He couldn't bring himself to sit in that chair behind the desk. Somehow... it seemed daunting to him. His memories of Major Morris, his CO at 501 SOC, sitting behind a similar desk - telling him it wasn't his fault. How could it not be his fault? He had been in command, they were his marines that had died, under his orders.

He shouldn't have accepted the promotion. He should go right upstairs to the Admiral and tell him he was wrong, that Sharpe was flattered, but that he wasn't ready for this. He could never lead men in combat again...

"Snap out of it marine!" Sharpe said to himself forcefully. "You're a goddamn marine, act like it!" He mimicked the tone his D.I, Gunny Sanders would've used on him. Marines don't second guess themselves, they don't run in the face of a challenge, and they certainly don't show cowardice. That chair was as much his by right, as it was by appointment. If he had felt this badly about it, he should've left the corps. But he couldn't run away then, and he damn well wasn't going to run away now.

He had a job to do.

= End Log =

Captain Richard Sharpe
Marine Commanding Officer
USS Achilles

 

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