OK. I had to share. Completely unbetaed... I know I won't finish this anytime soon but I had to bang out Chapter one before it exploded out the top of my head.
A Christmas Carol - Enterprise Style : Chapter One
Admiral Archer entered the gleaming building, striding along corridors full of beautiful paintings of space and many of its wonders. His back was straight, his gaze not wandering from his chosen path, his feet quieted by the plush red carpeting. Ensigns scurried to get out of his way as he strode past heading to his office. He noticed none of them, nor cared if he upset their work. In his mind, nothing in Starfleet was as important as his own field – exploration.
He entered his suite of offices and the cool air washed over him. His offices were a stark contrast to those of the rest of the building. While the building itself was modern in design, all glass and steel, Starfleet made an effort to make the offices within warm and welcoming. Once Jonathon had made admiral and had been given this assignment, he had put his own stamp upon this division. The offices in the Exploration branch were cold, stark, bleak, and pitiless. There was nothing here to distract his corps of ensigns from their appointed tasks.
As he strode past the open cubicles he could see his ensigns all bent over their star charts or reports, working diligently on finding new space for Starfleet to explore, more space in which to find new species, make treaties with them, and ensure the safety of Earth. The mission into the Expanse and then the Romulan War that followed had taught Archer a valuable lesson. The only good alien race was an alien race that entered into a treaty of non-aggression with them. After all, what was more important than that?
He allowed himself a small, barely imperceptible smile – it was good to be the boss, and it was good to have underlings who knew their place in the world, his world. He strode past his personal secretary and into his personal office, even colder and starker than that of his underlings.
Sitting down at his desk, he automatically glanced into the corner and regarded the empty dog bed lying there. He pursed his lips, clenching his jaw slightly but showed no other reaction. He was broken out of his reverie by his lieutenant entering the office. He turned his steely gaze upon him and the other man paled visibly.
“Sir? If I may?” the lieutenant started.
Admiral Archer continued to stare in silence at the small man before him.
The man straightened up and started again. “Sir, the ensigns and I would like to take an hour today for a small Christmas party. With your permission, sir, we’d start at 1530.”
Admiral Archer continued to stare at the lieutenant before him. The man swallowed nervously. Finally Archer spoke. “Fine, but I’ll expect you all in early tomorrow morning, by 0630, to make up the time.”
The man swallowed again, starting to perspire in the cold office. “But sir, tomorrow is Christmas, I thought Starfleet authorized leave...” he trailed off at seeing the expression on his superior’s face.
“Christmas is a poor excuse for closing Starfleet for a day. Space is infinite. We’ll never explore it all by taking breaks for silly holidays that no one wants any longer.” Archer growled his voice low. He spun his chair and regarded the old fashioned wall map of space that was framed and hung on the side wall of his office. It was his only concession to ornament or decoration. But it showed space as people once thought of it, as something finite, something conquerable. He contemplated the map a moment longer and then abruptly swung back to fix the lieutenant with a fierce glare.
“I’ll expect you all here early the day after. No excuses. Is that clear?” he asked, and without waiting for an answer he continued, “Unless you have anything else for me Lt. Cratchett, you’re dismissed.” With that Admiral Archer pushed the lieutenant from his mind and went back to the reports before him. There were too many parsecs of space and never enough time to explore them all, but he would continue to try.
_____
The morning had barely begun when Admiral Archer was disturbed again. He could hear a murmur of chatter coming towards his office, looking up he could see ensigns’ heads popping up from their cubicles, smiles on their faces as they greeted the visitor walking towards his office. Admiral Archer saw Lieutenant Cratchett rise and greet the man, dressed in civilian garb, and he wondered briefly how long it had been since the other man had retired. He sniffed, he hadn’t thought much of such a good explorer leaving the ranks of Starfleet to stay Earth-bound and have a family.
Lieutenant Cratchett ushered the grinning visitor into the office. “Sir, its Mr. Mayweather to see you sir.”
“I can see who it is, now get back to work.” He snarled, already on the defensive. He disliked these annual visits from his old helmsman. They reminded him of a time best forgotten.
“Merry Christmas, Captain!” said a beaming Travis Mayweather “I wanted to invite you to my annual Christmas party. All the old gang will be there.” he finished and placed a small, picture frame on the desk covered only in work, its corner covered in a beautiful bow.
“It’s Admiral to you, and no, thank you. Every year you invite me to your gathering and every year I refuse. When are you going to give it a rest? I’ve got more important things to do.” he gestured to his covered desk, completely disregarding the small gift.
“Aww, come on sir. You can’t live like this. This isn’t living. Relax and have fun once in a while. It didn’t kill you back in the days you were Captain Archer. What’s so different now that you’re Admiral Archer?”
Archer’s eyes flicked to the photo now sitting on his desk, it showed the senior bridge crew of the Enterprise, all of them smiling and happy and alive. One of them he was divided from forever, another of them was dead. “Who would be next?” he wondered momentarily. He came back to the present, annoyed that he had let his train of thought wander for even that moment.
“What’s different is that I have more responsibility, something you’ve forgotten all about, being retired. You keep Christmas in your way and I’ll keep it in mine.” he said disdainfully with another look at Travis’s sunny smile and civilian clothing. “Now get lost before I have you tossed out of the building. You’re not supposed to be in here anyhow.” And with that Archer went back to reading the top report on a tall stack waiting on his desk.
Travis wilted, pity in his eyes, and then forced a smile back on his face. “You’re always welcome, any time, we’d both love to see you.” he paused waiting for a reaction from the older man. Receiving none, he spoke again, softly this time, “Merry Christmas Captain.” and with that, he turned and left the office, wishing the lieutenant a merry Christmas on his way pass.
Sigh - ok. I feel better now for getting that on paper. Back to Christmas baking and wrapping.