The lights faded from the transporter pad, and Commander Park stepped forward. Lieutenant William Prentice extended his hand, which she shook. “Welcome aboard the USS Nova, Commander Park.”

She smiled nervously, “Thank you, Mr. Prentice.  I suppose you’re here to show me the way?”  Park had been feverishly studying the layout of the Nova since she’d been surprised with the news in her former CO’s ready room just an hour previous.

His smile mirrored hers, “I’ve only been on board for two days, commander.  I’m still working on my sense of direction.  I’m to take you to the bridge so you can officially register your command.”  He led her out of the transporter room, “We’ve got eight decks and capacity for just over eighty crew – that’s everybody.  Engineering’s been filled with a transfer from a station, and I’ve got the helm.”

The new CO gave him an odd look and asked, “What about the rest?”  She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Prentice explained, “We’ve got about forty crew onboard. It’s mostly ensigns and cadets.  Supposedly, we’ve got some larger classes in the academy, but they’re not due to graduate in another year or more.  The other half of our crew is in transit to Montana, but it’ll be the middle of January before they arrive.”  She stopped, and he returned to where she stood, “I wish I had better news on your first hour as CO.”

Park appreciated Will’s candor.  He was already proving himself, even if he wasn’t trying.  She’d glanced over his dossier – he’d come a long way, just like her.  She wondered if Fontana had considered the similarities as he shuffled the board.  “One thing I’ve learned, Mr. Prentice, is that it’s never boring out here. Bridge first, then staffing.”

The turbolift door opened, and Commander Park stepped back in time.  The bridge was an older model, something she remembered from an Excelsior she’d seen before they were refit into the newer Excelsior IIs.  It was empty, save for two ensigns – one at the helm and the other beside the center chair.  Both jumped as she appeared and stood at cartoonish attention.  Park acknowledged them both, “As you were.”  She walked towards the command chair and chuckled, “Now that’s an interesting design choice.”  The center chair was upholstered in a standard blue, and its arms were arrayed with the usual LCARs, but there were two additional PADD-sized consoles on either side of the chair, well within reach of the occupant.

Prentice agreed, “That’s a word for it. I looked into her history, and she’s had regular refits over the years, the last being pretty significant.  They didn’t touch the bridge layout for reasons I can’t figure out.  It’s all modern systems under the hood, but what you see is close to what she looked like the day she launched.  I looked at the other Nova classes; most had a new bridge template installed within the first five to seven years.”

She circled the chair slowly, taking it all in. Eventually, she stood behind it, gripping the back of the chair, looking around at the entirety of her new command.  Her command.  The USS Nova.  The first of her kind.  And the first command for her.  “I’m sure the engineers had their reasons for keeping it like this over the years.”  She turned to Prentice, “Got so wrapped up in this, I almost forgot…Lieutenant William Prentice, you are relieved.”

He didn’t fight the smile that spread across his lips, “I stand relieved, Commander Park.  The ship is yours.”

She approached the chair, sizing it up.  Her first command chair that was her very own.  Hers.  “Computer, transfer command of the USS Nova, NCC-72230, to Commander Park Seoyeon, authorization code Bravo-Three-Seven-Eight-Walton-Platte.”  A beep and the computer confirmed command of the Nova, and all command codes had been transferred.  She sat gently into the chair, feeling the moment.  Nine months ago, she had been thrust into the lap of Wren Walton with a message – she washes out on you, she’s done.

She sat back in the chair, reflecting.  In that time, she had found her way out of the pits of self-sabotage.  The clock above the main viewer continued to click forward, and she reminded herself that she had only so much time before her friend and former CO would call for a status update.  She turned in the chair, smiling as she did it and relishing the knowledge that she wouldn’t have to give it up to anyone else ever again.  “Mr. Prentice, do we have a roster of our current crew available?”  He walked back to his station and returned with a PADD.  She scrolled through it quickly, thinking aloud, “I can handle science with a deputy…we’ll need Ops, medical, and communications at a minimum.”  Muttering to herself, she tapped the screen several times and handed it back, “Let’s start with those three – have them meet me in my ready room in fifteen minutes.”  He accepted it and was about to walk away when she had another thought, “Mr. Prentice…how do you feel about being an interim executive officer?”

He frowned in surprise.  The two ensigns who had remained at their stations gasped.  He cast them a glance, and they swung around, finding several items of interest to occupy their time.  Will replied, “I know I’m the highest-ranked officer next to you, Commander Park, but…you sure that’s a good idea?  I’m a flyboy – flight control is my gig.”

“I’m learning quickly that if I’m going to be any good at this, I need some help.  Since I stepped aboard half an hour ago, you’ve managed to anticipate most of what I need.  That counts for something.  Anyway, it’s very much interim, Mr. Prentice.  We get the rest of our people aboard, and you can return the title to me if you choose.”

“Is that a promise?”  He was measuring her, she knew.  Command officers lived and died by the reputations they built in those first few hours.

“You have my word.  You might find you like it.”

Prentice didn’t directly respond to her statement, “I’ll get those three on their way, commander.”

She thanked him and turned back to face the bridge.  Her bridge.

Where she belonged.