Welcoming Ceremony
[Day 1: 1203 Hours]
[Main Briefing Room]
The opening ceremony of the conference was unlike the briefings that would follow in the coming days. Those would be serious affairs behind closed doors in a smaller meeting room, open only to Starfleet officers and civilian experts with the appropriate security clearances. They would be for serious people discussing serious affairs of the galaxy.
But for now came the bread and circuses. The large briefing room took far more than the Starfleet officers here to receive key information on how to do their job. It heaved with their staff, with crew of Starbase Bravo - those Captain Drang had reluctantly released, anyway. With civilians curious enough to be drawn to the spectacle. And, of course, the press.
‘Three minutes late,’ grumbled Beckett to his aide, ‘is not acceptable.’
Lieutenant Dathan gave him a level look. ‘I believe the Fleet Admiral had to fight his way through the press,’ she said. Some of Beckett’s staff simply bowed and scraped and let him vent his frustrations. Dathan had lasted as long as she had because she’d learnt how to deflect his bad moods. ‘I was in no position to lecture him, sir.’
‘Well, yes.’ Beckett tidied his pips and smoothed his hair. ‘We have to wait for him. Where would we be without the inspiring words of our valiant leader?’ Dathan remained judiciously silent, and he sighed. ‘Are we ready?’
‘As we’ll ever be, sir. Break a leg.’
‘That’s for theatricality - never mind.’ He brushed aside the misstep of his Bajoran aide, and stepped out from the side and onto the central podium.
The gathered crowds did not fall silent at once, which brought the slightest flicker of consternation to his expression. Beckett swept a hand across, which reduced some of the noise, but there was nothing for it. He’d have to speak if he wanted everyone’s attention.
Civilians!
‘Good day.’ His voice stretched across the room through the sound system, though he had the training to probably project enough without it’s help. ‘It’s truly an honour to be here today, and an honour to see so many of you here. My name is Commodore Alexander Beckett, Chief of Staff, Fourth Fleet. I know many of you have travelled far to be here, and I’m grateful for the time and energy you’ve committed. I promise you it shall be worth the effort and worth the sacrifice. After all, an opportunity such as this is very rare: here, truly the best and brightest Starfleet has to offer are under one roof, united in purpose.’
Beckett paused. Waxing lyrical came as naturally to him as breathing, but he had to stop himself. He was, today and for the coming days, merely the conductor. It was time for the orchestra. ‘But there is only one person who can truly explain to you all why you’re here. And so it is my great pleasure and privilege to introduce Fleet Admiral Teylas Ramar.’
He stepped aside at the swell of enthusiasm from audience, a swell they had hardly given him. With a sweep of the hand he beckoned Ramar up to the podium, surrendered it to him with all the grace he could muster. Now he could see most of the press beginning their recordings in earnest, now he could see the bright eyes turn to the leader of the Fourth Fleet.
Now they cared. He tried to not hold his breath as Ramar began to speak.
‘First, a practical matter...’ the Bolian took a quick pause before continuing, ‘... a quick reminder to everyone that this entire conference is considered classified as it contains sensitive information regarding Starfleet fleet movements and forthcoming command assignments.’
Taking a deep breath, the newly re-minted Fourth Fleet Commander began what amounted to his stump speech.
‘Welcome all to the Osiris Initiative Conference being held here at Starbase Bravo. I am Fleet Admiral Teylas Ramar, Commander of the Fourth Fleet. Some of you I’ve known for years from the last time I was in Starfleet, some of you I’ll be meeting for the first time. All of you, I was pulled out of a peaceful retirement spending my days in crappy holonovels for,’ he joked to a low laughter.
‘You’ve been assembled because you are the best and brightest command officers in Starfleet - some of you seasoned veterans, some of you up and coming. All of you are here for a full debrief of the situation Starfleet is now in. Under my command, the Fourth Fleet has been given permission by both the Federation Council and Fleet Admiral Clancy to stretch Starfleet’s arms back out into the galaxy. You’ll also be receiving your command assignments at the end of this conference; some of you that will mean no change. No matter the circumstances of your assignment at the end of this conference you will be representing the Fourth Fleet, Starfleet, and the Federation out in the galaxy. We’ve had a long period of quiet following the Romulan supernova. We’re going to get back out there and fulfill the Starfleet mandate to seek out new life and new civilizations. Let's boldly go.’
Is that it? Beckett thought at about the same time the conference erupted into raucous applause. If the audience liked it, there was no accounting for taste. He’d rather hoped for something more evocative while he could deal with the meat and veg of the introduction, such as it was, but he’d work with what he had.
Ramar was already surrendering the podium, and when Beckett returned he had to wait, and wait, and wait before he could get the crowd to shut up and listen. Even then he knew they had no real interest in what he had to say. And still he spoke.
‘All officers with invitations to the briefings will have received the necessary documentation and schedules. But this is more than an opportunity to take in information. Briefing packets could have been transmitted across the quadrants if that was all that you needed.
‘You need more than that.’ Beckett paused, and wondered if he’d hooked them yet. ‘Officers; take a look at those next to you. The current and future captains of the Fleet. Comrades in arms and exploration. You may not know each other, and yet some day you will have to count on one another. Starfleet is only as strong as its people. Its people are only strong if they work together.
‘You could come to this gathering, get your information, do nothing else, and return to the furthest reaches of space. Or you could take this time to truly reflect on your future. To understand your fellows. To discover our true unity of purpose. That is what makes Starfleet so special in these hard times. And it is what we will need to, as the Admiral said: boldly go. Together.’
He’d had that line ready before Ramar had used it. Quietly he’d seethed when the Fleet Admiral had picked such low-hanging fruit for his own purposes. And he felt the politeness in the audience’s applause. Irritated and not showing it, Beckett lifted a hand. ‘The first briefing begins tomorrow morning. In the meantime, please. Enjoy Starbase Bravo. Make the most of your time. Again: welcome. Welcome here, and to what comes next. Thank you.’
He surrendered the podium, and felt that lifting of pressure as the room moved from applause to hubbub, chit-chat of those lingering and the chatter of those escaping.
Dathan was waiting for him as he made it to the side of the stage, one eyebrow slightly raised, and he waved a dismissive hand. ‘I know. I said the same as him, just less concise.’
She pursed her lips. ‘I wasn’t going to comment, sir.’
Beckett scowled. ‘Good.’
A joint post between
Fleet Admiral Teylas Ramar
Commanding Officer, Fourth Fleet
And
Commodore Alexander Beckett
Chief of Staff, Fourth Fleet