Meeting the Current Part 1

Posted on Sun Jan 11th, 2026 @ 12:49pm by Commander Cornelius 'Kit' Hanlon

1,979 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Prologue: To Boldly Go
Location: First Officer's Office, Deck 2, USS Fenrir
Timeline: Day 14

[ON]

The corridors of the USS Fenrir pulsed with barely restrained energy, the hum of final departure preparations vibrating through every deckplate. Voices overlapped in passing: rapid updates, clipped confirmations, the occasional barked correction from an impatient department head. Around each junction, officers darted between last-minute system verifications and urgent equipment transfers, their movements carrying the slightly frantic rhythm of a ship about to launch into the unknown. The air itself seemed charged, electric with anticipation and the sharpened edge of hurry.

Amid the orchestrated chaos, Adis Voks moved like a quiet current against the tide. His ocean-hued robes brushed soundlessly along the walls as he sidestepped hurried crew without interruption or annoyance. In truth, he could have waited—reported later, once the ship was underway and the initial storm had passed—but instinct told him otherwise. A Counselor was not merely a title; it was a presence, an anchor. And on a day when every officer strained toward some unseen horizon, he would be remiss not to meet those who steered the ship’s course at its most pivotal moment.

The turbolift delivered him to Deck 2 with a muted sigh, its doors opening onto a scene of barely contained kinetic energy. A junior officer nearly collided with him, her arms full of calibration tools, but Adis shifted subtly, letting her pass without disturbance. He caught the slight flush of her cheeks—embarrassment, apology unspoken—but offered only a faint, grounding nod before continuing. This was not chaos born of negligence; it was the controlled storm of professionalism meeting reality, and Adis respected the rhythm of it even as he moved through its rushing heart.

The First Officer’s office stood near the end of the corridor, just beyond the intersection where mission team leads exchanged hurried status reports. Despite the proximity to the swirling preparations, there was a subtle shift in the air here—a small pocket of intended calm amid the greater turbulence. A compact LCARS panel by the door pulsed with crisp efficiency: Commander Kit Hanlon. The letters glowed steady against the soft background thrum of readiness, a beacon amid the current.

Adis paused just outside the door, letting the folds of his robes settle around him like still water. His tall frame stood poised but unhurried, his long fingers briefly brushing the seam of the wall beside the door—a grounding habit, a tactile reminder of balance. Then, with a quiet final breath, he pressed the chime, announcing his presence to the Fenrir’s Executive Officer. Whatever tide awaited him beyond that door, Adis would meet it, as always, with both hands open.

"Come on in!" Kit called out, standing by his desk rather than sitting, leaning over with his hands on the desk as he read the console. There was an energy about him now, a restlessness nothing except the launch going ahead successfully would shake. And there had been a message from Vice-Admiral Hiroshi Takahaya. That since their previous Chief Counselor - Steele - had to leave on a personal matter, he had found someone to take the spot. I hope that I have not overstepped, I just did not want to have to burden you with the choice. That had been an interesting turn of phrase in a message sent, although he suspected Blake had gotten the real reasons. Even so. Adis Voks. A civilian Chief Counselor, which meant that he wouldn't be in the hierarchy despite being a Chief Counselor.

It sort of made sense. He'd advice. Be a senior member of staff. But if Blake and Kit snuffed it, he couldn't become Captain, or be a bridge officer.

Kit exhaled the though away. Negative thoughts before launch was never a good idea. Never. Bad luck it was and Kit didn't want any of that today. He looked up as the doors opened, his eyes going to the man who entered.

The door parted with a soft hiss, admitting Adis Voks into the First Officer’s office. He dipped his head and shoulders subtly as he passed through the doorway—an unconscious, practiced motion born of a lifetime navigating spaces built for smaller frames. Straightening once inside, he took quiet stock of the room. It was functional, efficient, but carried a lived-in quality that no amount of Starfleet standardization could fully erase. He saw it in the slight disorder of the desk, the restless curve of the man leaning over it, and the quicksilver undercurrent of thought that sharpened the air like the scent of an approaching storm.

Adis stepped forward with the measured grace that had carried him through a hundred unfamiliar thresholds. He allowed the door to seal closed behind him before offering a respectful inclination of his head—a gesture that spoke of acknowledgment without deference. His robes shifted soundlessly around him, the deep blue-gray fabric catching the office’s recessed light like water under a rising wind.

"Commander Hanlon," he said, his voice a low, even resonance that steadied the space between them rather than disturbing it. "Adis Voks, reporting as Chief Counselor. I recognize the timing of my arrival is... less than ideal. I shall endeavor to cause as little disruption as possible." He let the words settle, deliberate and unhurried, as though laying stones carefully into a foundation. "I am grateful for the opportunity to serve the Fenrir and her crew, even if only for the duration of her first mission."

His hands remained loosely at his sides, open, unthreatening. He made no move to cross further into the room until invited, embodying the quiet principle that presence was not something to impose, but to offer.

"Voks," Kit looked at him with a smile and motioned to the seat, straightening. "To be honest, it seems we're in need of a counselor and the Vice-Admiral found you." He sat down and then stood again. "Would you like something to drink? I might have some green tea, I'm staying off caffeine right now or else I might bounce out of my chair once we're ready to go." He had noted what he had said. The time limit on his stay, as if the counselor somehow didn't think they'd want to keep him. An Arkenite wasn't something new, but Kit hadn't had the pleasure of serving with one on a ship before.

Adis inclined his head once more, the gesture fluid, as he moved with deliberate ease toward the indicated seat. His long frame folded into it with a grace that belied his size, the deep tones of his robes settling quietly around him as though the chair itself welcomed the weight.

"Thank you, Commander," he said, his voice carrying that same calm resonance. "Green tea would be most agreeable. I find it a... steadying companion on days when the currents run fast." There was the faintest hint of something lighter in his tone, not humor precisely, but a recognition of the moment’s peculiar energy. His gaze remained steady, attentive, but without pressure—a presence that offered attention without expectation.

He allowed a small pause to breathe between them before continuing, his words measured and intentional. "As for my tenure aboard the Fenrir... I stand ready to serve for as long as I am needed. Whether for one mission or for many, it is the needs of the crew that shall determine the shape of my presence." There was no defensiveness in the statement, only a quiet acceptance—like the ebb and flow of tide against stone, patient and unwavering.

As Kit moved about the office, Adis remained composed, his senses open to the subtle shifts in the man’s bearing. He understood that leadership carried invisible weights, especially on the eve of first launch. His role was not to add to them, but to steady the ground beneath.

Kit replicated two mugs of green tea, walking over to him and putting it down. The height of Adis was a surprise, it wasn't often someone could tower over Kit. He accepted it easily though with a small smile. "I am sure you will fit in well here," he said, meaning it as he moved to sit down as well. "I didn't have a chance to read your file beyond your name and that you are a civilian. I apologise, I usually tend to be better prepared." He sipped the drink, realising that it was too hot and grimaced as he put it down. "My mind is a bit over the place."

Adis accepted the offered mug with a slight inclination of his head, the gesture carrying both gratitude and a certain ceremonial grace. The steam rising from the tea curled lazily between them, a tangible thread of warmth amid the quiet churn of pre-launch tension. He let the cup settle in his long-fingered hands without rushing to drink, content for the moment simply to hold its steadying heat.

"There is no need for apology, Commander," he said gently, his voice carrying a calm resonance that seemed to smooth the air rather than disturb it. "The eve of a vessel’s first launch is a moment woven of many threads. Minds are meant to be full in such times. It would be unnatural otherwise."

He shifted slightly, settling the deep folds of his robe with a practiced ease, and offered a faint, reflective smile. "As for my record, it is... comprehensive but not remarkable. It is perhaps better, on days such as this, to meet the person before the paper. Records can capture only the tide marks we leave behind, not the waters that shaped them." His gaze held Kit’s steadily, open but unpressing—an offering, not a demand.

He allowed a breath of silence to settle between them before tilting his head slightly, the motion slow and deliberate. "May I ask, Commander—what first drew you to serve aboard the Fenrir?" His tone remained mild, respectful, as if extending a hand across a river’s current. An invitation, not an interrogation.

The mug of green tea rested easily between his palms, its warmth steady against his skin. In a moment when so much energy strained forward toward the future, Adis anchored himself here, fully present, allowing space for the answer to rise naturally—unforced, like the tide itself.

Kit looked at him with surprise at the question, before reminding himself that he was a counselor. Of course he'd be curious of the motivation of the senior staff. "I had...learned what I could on my previous ship. What drew me to the Fenrir was that it was a brand new crew, a...newly minted Captain. I think I can do a lot of good in this position, on this ship. And I like doing things that do good." It sounded arrogant, to say aloud that he thought he could make a difference. And there was something he found weird about being so honest about it, yet...it was trained in him. He would always be honest with a counselor. So, honestly was what he got. "It's...sort of all I got. My siblings have families, I...have Starfleet."

A thing his mother complained and worried about a lot. But Kit had always been a Starfleet man, lending his entire being to it. Sure, there had been romances along the way, but no real relationships. Nothing that had swept him off his feet and he hadn't swept anyone either. No, he was at home on a Starship. He slept well in his bed with the hum of the warp core and the little noises around him. And he made friends that felt like family.

To be continued in part 2

---

Commander Kit Hanlon
First Officer
USS Guinevere

And

Adis Voks
Chief Counsellor
USS Guinevere
[pnpc Mateo Gardel]

 

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