Authrix' Note: Here we go.
Morning never dawned in the brightly-lit, grey corridors of Starbase 234, but if it had, it would be crisp and cool, with a hint of dew in the air, and only beginning to usher away the night when Captain Siobhan Brodie strode towards docking port three, a duffel bag in her hand. She had tried to tell herself that her eagerness to arrive early was only so that she could get her things in order to properly greet her crew. But a part of her knew that was a lie. The final tweaks on her new command, the USS Freyja, had only been completed yesterday; today was the first chance she would have to look over the ship. She was a junior-grade captain, with only one ship command under her belt; still, her actions upon taking the field rank of captain when her own had died in the line of fire had been enough to warrant her a brand-spanking new heavy cruiser. Freyja was of the heavily-armed Akira-class ships of the wall.
A smile appeared on her face as she stepped into a turbolift, mind on the new ship. The USS Nautilus, her last post, had gone into spacedock for extensive refitting, and Brodie had been offered the captaincy of the Freyja. She was glad she had accepted it. The Nautilus had been an old Miranda-class ship, barely capable of warp 7 and ridiculously low on weapons. Whereas the Freyja, as all Akira-class ships, could maintain a cruising velocity of warp 9.8 and was one of the most heavily-armed ships in Starfleet, a relatively new design.
As Brodie stepped into the docking corridor and bore down on the personnel access to docking port three, movement along the corridor coming the opposite direction caught her eye. While it wasn't unusual for the inhabitants of a Starbase to maintain an around-the-clock schedule, it was still early in the base's "morning" for most people to be out. The other figure stopped at the docking port and stilled, apparently waiting for her. Brodie's mind raced as she ran through possibililties. Medical or science staff, she thought, looking at the uniform. Bag looks like a medical kit, and the other a Starfleet issue duffel. Vulcan woman, slightly Asiatic look, petite . . . my new doctor? What was her name, Jahet, Jenek . . .
"Good morning, Captain," the Vulcan said. Her voice was soft, with the assurance of total logic that all Vulcans had in their voices.
"Good morning," a beat, "Jahek, is it?"
"Aye, Captain."
Oh thank the spirits . . . "You're out and about early." She keyed in the access code and the door slid open.
"I wished to get sick bay in order before the crew arrive," she said as they stepped in. "I understand it is Starfleet protocol to subject arriving crew to a brief physical before releasing them for duty."
"Yes, it is, I was going to check if you wished to uphold that."
"Captain?"
"Many ship's doctors often forgo the physical and settle for a quick review of a crewmate's medical history," Brodie said, as they stepped into the turbolift together. She had been in this part of the ship, but the last time the yarddogs had let her aboard, sick bay was still a mass of electrical wiring. A red flag in her memory caught her mental eye. "I'm surprised you didn't know that. From your words, I would think you haven't served on a Federation starship before. But you served on the . . . Okinawa?"
"Orinoco."
"My apologies."
"I was transferred to the USS Orinoco after their chief medical officer resigned, so the crew was already established when I arrived."
"I see."
They continued in companionable silence to sick bay. Jahek stepped inside, glanced around, and with a terse nod proclaimed it, if not exemplary, then adequate. But Brodie had served with enough Vulcans to recognize a happy one when she saw one.
"I'll leave you to it then," she said, as the Vulcan carefully and precisely laid down her bags. "You will be going ahead with the physical?"
"Yes, Captain,' Jahek looked around. "According the crew manifests, you will be expected 437 to report for duty?"
"Somewhere around there," Brodie said, hiding a smile.
Jahek nodded. "I am expecting two nurses. That should be adequate. I will go ahead with the physical."
"Very good. I will make sure that all new personnel report to you. Have them also check in with me if they haven't already. Give me a shout if you need anything."
"Yes, Captain." The Vulcan turned around, effectively closing the conversation as she bent over the medkit. Brodie smirked at the neat French braid of black hair that fell to just below her shoulders. Long hair, hmm. I always thought Vulcans regarded it as a sign of vanity . . .
As she left sick bay, Brodie pulled back the sleeve of her uniform and glanced at the chronometer on her wrist. It read 0723. Brodie snapped the sleeve back down and thought. The crew would begin arriving at 1000, and the ship was scheduled to leave the Starbase at 1600, which was designed to sufficiently stagger the arrival so as not to overwhelm the welcoming committee. Brodie had decided to use her security personnel to act as guides, as many of the incoming crew were fresh cadets, and the ship's design was fairly new even for seasoned officers. Her chief security officer had served under her on the Nautilus, and had brought part of her security team with her. Those few would arrive at 0930 to familiarize themselves with the ship.
So, she thought, following the curve of the passage, that gives me just about two hours on an almost empty ship. Her mouth curved. Excellent.
A quick detour rid her of her duffel and she dumped it unceremoniously just inside the door to her quarters. As she stepped out of the turbolift, lights flickered on and the bridge suddenly glowed to life. She almost jumped at the somewhat creepy effect. "Good morning, Captain Brodie," the ubiquitous calmly modulated computer voice said.
"Good morning," she replied, out of habit rather than cognition. The bioneural circuitry that the Freyja was equipped with made the ship more self-aware than previous models; intellectually, she had known that, but it hadn't quite sunk in.
"Do you wish to begin normal operating readiness?" the computer queried.
"No, thank you," she replied. "Begin initializing main systems at 0900 and run a level one diagnostic on your systems as soon as operations are at normal. Understood?"
"Yes, Captain. See you then." The displays, which had lit at her entrance, now went dark again, and she was left in the normal illumination of the bridge. She looked around. The configuration was different—she would have to get used to Ops being on that side, rather than in front of her. She sat in the helm control chair and leaned over the controls. She had seen schematics, of course, but she still wanted to familiarize herself. She prowled around to all the consoles, seeing when key systems were and where everyone would be in relation to her. Finally, she stood before the captain's chair. Grey, moulded, armless. She took a deep breath, and sat.
It felt good. The chair was soft, but not too soft. There was a console on her right side. When she touched it, it immediately lit up. The small screen would allow her to call up tactical information or any files she wanted. It was also possible to reroute helm control into that pad. She lifted her hand away and it went dark. She stood with a sigh and strode into her ready room. The door slid open and the lights came on, but no cybernetic voice greeted her. For that, she was somewhat glad. A computer screen sat on the curved desk before the huge window. A neat pile of PADDs sat next to it. She dropped the bag again and went over to the desk, leaning against it as she shuffled through them. Two were crew manifests, one was an inventory of weapons systems and modifications, another the same for the bioneural circuitry and ship systems. The fifth and last was their itinerary and current mission. She sat down and quickly copied one of the crew lists to the tactical PADD to give to M'Rdat when she arrived.
"Computer," she said, raising her voice slightly. "What is the location of Jahek?"
"Jahek is in sick bay," the computer replied.
"Computer, list the current occupants of the ship."
"Brodie, Captain Siobhan. Jahek, Doctor."
Brodie waited a beat to see if the computer continued, but it remained silent. She stood and collected the PADDs. The door chimed softly as she left. She stopped at sick bay and found the doctor busy checked supplies off against her own PADD. She left a crew manifest with the Vulcan and continued her rambles. When Brodie was groundside, she was fond of long walks. So that's what she did now. For an hour and half, she strolled through almost every inch of her ship, from the shuttlebay to engineering to the mess hall, and she was waiting when the docking port opened to admit part of her security team.
"M'Rdat, it's good to see you again," she said warmly as her chief tac officer stepped onto the ship.
"Captain Brodie," she said by way of greeting. M'Rdat was one of those rare half-Klingon, half-human crossbreeds, and Brodie wasn't sure which half she liked better. The conflict made her sometimes violent and irrational, but generally her human side managed to use the Klingon side to her own advantage. She was tall, but not bulky. Her skin was light, but her Klingon eye-ridges were pronounced. Her hair looked like a bad die job, but Brodie knew this wasn't the truth. It started off a dark blonde near her skull, and darkened to a deep brown near the ends, which were almost to the small of her back and kept in a ponytail most times.
They clasped hands with warm familiarity before Brodie handed her the tactical PADD. "Looks like you've got some new toys to play with," she said. One dark eyebrow lifted as the halfbreed scanned the PADD quickly.
"Powerful," was her only comment.
"Lieutenant, I want you and your people to greet people as they come aboard." Brodie said, addressing the group as a whole. "Point them in the right direction, make sure they belong to me. Everyone has to check in both at sick bay and with me. I'll be back and forth between here and the bridge. Understood?"
"Aye, Captain." The security officer turned to the three other mustard-uniformed men behind her, still shaking sleep from their eyes. "Find your quarters. Get some coffee. Know your way around. I want you back here no later than one minute to 1000." She paused, and glared. "Move!"
They moved.
At 1034, Lieutenant (senior grade) Helene Rostand officially logged into her new post as Chief Ops/Communication Officer for the USS Freyja. The steely eyed Klingon/human woman who met her at the docking port had offered a gruff 'Welcome' after finding her name on the crew manifest and marking her as having arrived. She did offer a guide to quarters or sick bay, but Helene had declined, preferring to find her own way. Her commission had also provided her with her berth number, so she headed in that direction first, trying not to drool at the newness of the ship. She was heading towards one of the turbolifts, humming some 18th century Earth symphony to herself as she strolled along unhurriedly, when she suddenly heard a twin thump behind her of someone springing into the air and was yanked off balance backwards by two stick-like arms that clamped themselves around her neck.
She dropped her duffel and twisted out of the hug/deathgrip with an ease born of long practice and faced her attacker with a grin. The two woman smirked at each other. "You haven't changed a bit, Tali," Helene said.
"I have certainly too!" She replied indignantly. "I've gained six whole pounds!"
Helene stood back and looked up and down the ninety-pound-when-wet-down frame and lifted an eyebrow. "I don't believe it."
"I'm hurt!" Tali sniffed theatrically, and reclaimed her duffel from where it had been discarded in the attack. Helene did the same, and they resumed the walk towards the turbolift.
"I swear, Small-And-Skinny-One," Helene said, "I still don't know how you passed the Starfleet physical exam. I'm sure they should have booted your scrawny ass out."
"Love you, too, old friend," Tali replied wryly as they stepped into the lift.
The two were a study in contrast. Lieutenant (junior grade) Tali deLaki, science officer, was short and skinny — not slender, but skinny — with a mass of curly hair that never quite seemed under control. Her companion was tall and broad — not fat, but built big, with wide hips and shoulders. She had a surprising grace to her movements that most people ignored. Her hair, while equally curly and of the same colour, was under control, pulled back in a bun from her round face.
"I see you've finally got that lieutenancy you deserve," Helene replied, pronouncing the rank as the archaic 'left-tenant'.
Tali's hand went to the pips on the collar of her blue uniform. "Yeah, finally. And I see you've gone up as well," gesturing at the other's pips, "Senior-grade lieutenant," stressing the 'loo' sound.
Helene smiled. "Give it up, you'll never convert me."
"I knew it! I knew you pronounce it just to piss me off!"
"Would I ever do that to you?"
"Yes."
Silence.
"So where's your cabin?"
"D-deck, 234" Helene replied, looking at the directional indicator.
"Ooh, close to mine." Tali pulled a slightly rumpled piece of paper out of her non-existent cleavage and checked it. "Yeah, just down the hall."
"How convenient," Helene remarked as the lift slowed and stopped. "Where's the menagerie? I'm surprised you don't have animals draped all over you and stuffed in the bag."
"They're back on the base, I'm going to go pick them up when I have a moment."
Helene paused a beat. "You're serious? You're actually bringing the menagerie on board?"
Tali shrugged. "I've got the captain's permission."
Helene rolled her eyes. "Oh dear lord, who did you sleep with to get that?"
"None of your business," Tali said, mock-indignantly. Then she grinned and winked. "But wouldn't you like to know?"
Helene opened her mouth to reply as an older man in a mustard uniform stepped out into the corridor in front of them. They nodded politely as they passed, and before Helene could reply, they arrived at Tali's quarters. She rechecked her commission, and keyed in the correct code. The door slid open and the pair got their first look at their new quarters.
"Impressive," Tali said, dropping her bag and looking around. "These Akira-class are sweet."
"Niice," Helene agreed, stepping in and looking around. "With a little reshuffling, you might actually be able to fit most of the menagerie in here."
"I can stack," Tali replied absently, as she got to her knees to investigate under the desk. She immerged on the other side and slid into the chair. "Mmm, cushy." She bounced a few times and investigated the contents of the desk. It held the standard view screen/computer console and three PADDs. Two were empty and the other was a schematic of the ship and the necessary information for her to find her way around the science department of the computer. Her bright grin disappeared as she concentrated, frowning, on the information. Helene turned away.
"I'll go dump my stuff, and then head down to sick bay. I'll meet you on the bridge." The door slid open, and Tali leapt after her, banging her knee on the underside of the table as she went and still holding the PADD.
"Wait! I'll go with you," she said, limping to a place beside her friend as they went down the hall. Helene's room was four doors down on the opposite side, and identical on the inside. She too had a PADD containing a run down of ship's systems and layout, which she grabbed after a cursory look around and they headed to sick bay.
The door slid open just as they reached it, and two crewmen came out. They stood back, nodded politely in greeting, and continued inside. There weren't many people inside — then again, it was still early. Two more crew members were sitting on the beds while medical personnel — a Bajoran man and a human woman — looked them over. The third, a Vulcan woman, looked up at their arrival.
"Over here, please," she said, looking them up and down and gesturing to a third bed. The pair looked at each other, and Helene made a little "go ahead" motion with one hand. Tali handed her the PADD and hopped up, legs swinging slightly. Helene leaned against a bulkhead and read over her own information while the Vulcan gave the lieutenant a once-over with the tricorder.
"Name?"
"Tali deLaki."
The woman punched something into her PADD. "Ah yes. Lieutenant, science officer. Pentarus V. No long-term affects from the mining colony listed. How have you been feeling lately?"
"Ship-shape and Bristol fashion, Doc," Tali replied.
The Vulcan quirked an eyebrow. "My name is Jahek." She resumed her scan. "I will be the chief medical officer for this ship."
"Nice to meetcha, Doctor J," Tali replied, mouth quirking in a grin.
"I am aware of the human tendency to assign 'nicknames' to those they are close with." Jahek said, "However, I am not 'close to you' and would prefer if you would address me by either 'Doctor' or my given name."
"Can do, Doctor," Tali replied, stressing the title.
Jahek snapped the tricorder closed. "You appear perfectly healthy. You are, I hope you realize, severely underweight, but this seems from your file to be normal. You will, however, soon have a sizable bruise on your right knee shortly."
"Thanks," Tali said shortly, hopping down again. Helene took her place with more poise. "Helene Rostand," she said in her lilting voice.
Jahek looked her up. "Hmm, numerous past fractures, most in the ankles and wrists. How are those feeling?"
"They crack occasionally," Helene replied, rotating one wrist to demonstrate. Jahek frowned at the series of soft pops and cracks from the joint.
"Those will be weakened, and more likely to injure. I also see you have a family history of high blood pressure. Any effects from that?"
"None."
"Migraines, yes?"
"Yes, but only infrequently."
Jahek scanned her quickly. "Very good, you're both clear. Check in with the Captain if you haven't already."
"Thank you, Jahek. See you 'round," Helene called back over her shoulder as they left the sick bay.
"Well she's . . . Vulcan-y," Tali commented a few moments later.
"Hey, nothing wrong with being Vulcan-y. They're all like that." Helene said as they stepped into the lift.
"True, true." The display flashed as they moved up the ship. Finally it stopped and they stepped onto the bridge for the first time. It was almost empty, none of the panels illuminated. The only figure was a tall woman with dark reddish hair that was tied back firmly in a long braid in a red uniform, who looked up at their entrance. She flowed to her feet and they both braced to attention as the dim light gleamed off the four gold pips at her throat.
"Captain Brodie?" Tali said, more of a statement than a question.
"Yes, that's me," the captain said, "You are?"
"Lieutenant Tali deLaki, ma'am."
"Lieutenant Helene Rostand, ma'am."
A moment of mental searching her memory . . . "Ah, my command crew!" She stepped forward and shook their hands. "I've heard only good things about you from your captains."
"Who's been lying to you, Captain?" Tali said, half a smirk on her face.
The Captain smiled. "I'm sure it's no lie." She gestured around her. "This is the bridge, welcome to it. We're scheduled to leave spacedock at 1600 hours, and I'm holding a meeting of my senior staff at 1500 hours. Until then, do what you like. When the chef arrives, you can grab a meal, but the replicators in your quarters should be working. Feel free to look around." She could tell her officers had been waiting for that order, from they immediately started forward. Tali went to the far side of the bride, where her console lurked. Helene started down towards the helm, paused, looked around, and made a beeline for the Ops station. Consoles came alive under able hands, and the Captain watched with barely-veiled humour as their eyes glowed in the light of the consoles, and the familiar tones of keys being struck hit her ears.
Her new science officer was busy exploring her sensors, when another mental red flag waved at Brodie. "Lieutenant deLaki," she said, striding over to the console, "you were the one whose request I granted to bring aboard some science specimens?"
"Oh, yes, Captain," Tali fumbled in her uniform for a moment and produced another PADD. "Here's a list of the specimens."
Helene almost laughed. Specimens? Beloved pets was more like it.
Brodie looked over the list. "Will there be enough room in the science lab for all these?" She asked after a moment.
"There is, technically, enough room, but not if any research wanted to be carried out," Tali replied. "I keep only a few specimens in the lab at the time. The rest I usually house in my quarters."
"Your quarters?"
"Yes, Captain," she coughed delicately. "My quarters have often been referred to as 'the jungle' or 'the menagerie' by my crewmates."
"You don't mind it?"
"Not at all!" Tali said emphatically.
Brodie raised an eyebrow. "Very well. As long as they don't bother your neighbours, that's fine. If I get any complaints at all, your 'menagerie' will be moved to cargo storage or the lab. Will you need any help bringing them aboard?"
"No, Captain. I have four hours, and Lootenant Rostand has agreed to help me."
"Lefttenant deLaki and I have served together, and she used that to bludgeon me into helping with the heavy lifting," Helene replied from the other side of the bridge.
Brodie nodded and tapped her combadge. "Brodie to M'Rdat."
M'Rdat here, Captain.
"I've got my science officer bringing aboard some specimens shortly. Give her any assistance necessary."
Aye, Captain, M'Rdat out.
They were interrupted by the turbolift sliding open again. The woman who stepped out this time was in a red uniform, tall and chesty, with light brown hair clipped up tightly. She looked around and stepped towards the Captain. "Captain Brodie? Commander Karyn Burnham."
"Ah, Number One." Brodie stepped forward and shook her hand. "I've been following your career with interest for some time now."
"I was surprised to get a request for First Officer, especially so soon after my promotion and from a captain I didn't know," Burnham replied.
"I'm good friends with your captain from the Shenandoah," Brodie replied easily. "This is only my second command. We can learn together."
"I'd like that, Captain."
"If you'd step into my ready room, we can discuss our current assignment . . ."
As the officers moved across the bridge, Helene caught Tali's eye and jerked her head towards the turbolift. Tali nodded and left her station with not a little reluctance, but followed her friend as they moved back to the docking port.
Almost an hour later, a man in a mustard uniform and carrying a duffel skirted around a flatbed gravcarrier in the base corridor filled with tanks and cages, and stepped through the open portal. The gruff security officer looked up at his entrance, and he stopped in front of her.
"Name?"
"Konrad Davies."
A pause. "Chief Engineer. Welcome aboard. You must report to sick bay and to the captain before we leave spacedock."
"Thanks, Lieutenant." Konrad picked up his bag again and moved on down the corridor. He, like many others, found his quarters, dropped his gear, and went in search of sick bay. It was busier now, as more people began arriving, so he had to wait for a few minutes until a Bajoran medical officer gave him the once-over with a tricorder and asked him some questions about his medical history. Then he made his way to the bridge. People were bustling around the corridors, and his heart started to hum at the feeling. He had been groundside for too long. He stepped onto the bridge, moving to the side to let a crewman passed him into the lift. A woman in a red uniform was looking over a PADD and frowning in front of the captain's chair, so he took a chance.
"Captain Brodie?"
The woman looked up and turned towards him, and Konrad immediately knew he was wrong as three, not four, pips glowed back at him. "I'm Commander Burnham," she said, without scorn or ridicule. "Captain Brodie's first officer. Did you need to check in?"
"Aye, I'm Konrad Davies, engineering." He extended a hand and she took it firmly.
"Good to meet you. The Captain wanted to speak with you as soon as you check in." She tapped her combadge. "Burnham to Brodie."
Go ahead, Number One.
"Chief Engineer Davies has arrived, ma'am."
Very good. Have him meet me in Engineering right away.
She looked at him and he nodded. "He's on his way, Captain. Burnham out."
Konrad nodded sharply and turned on his heel, stalking off the bridge as quickly as he could. Engineering was half the ship away and ten decks down, but he still managed to make it there in less than five minutes. He paused a moment outside the door to catch his breath and smooth down his uniform before striding in unhurriedly.
"Impressive, Mr. Davies," said the woman in red leaning on the warp core railing. "It would have taken me twice as long to get here." She turned around and stepped forward to meet him. "I'm Siobhan Brodie."
"Captain Brodie, nice to meet you. Commander Burnham said you'd wanted to talk to me . . .?" he replied, attempting to mask his nervousness with a competent façade.
"Yes." She gestured at the dim warp core. "We leave spacedock at 1600. I want you to get the warp core running, start giving us back our own power so there'll be no hiccup when we break the umbilicals. Once we have main power up, I want you to run a level two diagnostic just in case. There should be sufficient engineering personnel on board to get you started. You have duty rosters, yes?"
"Aye, Captain, I made them up last night," he replied. "Did you want to see them before I post them?"
She waved a hand. "No, that's fine, I trust your judgement. You've seen the doctor?"
"One of her aides."
"Good, good. You'll be alright here?"
"Yes, we should be fine. I'll have us up and running by 1600."
"1500."
"Captain?"
She blinked and shook her head, mentally retracing the conversation. "Oh, sorry. I'm holding a meeting of my senior staff at 1500, and I expect you to attend. I want the diagnostic begun before that."
"Understood, Captain." Brodie nodded sharply and left, moving with the inherent grace of a Starfleet captain. Konrad watched her go, shook himself, and tapped his combadge, opening a general channel. "All Engineering personnel on board, go directly to Engineering. I repeat, all Engineering personnel to Engineering." He looked at the warp core. "Looks like this is it, baby," he said, and got to work.
At 1302, Crewman Caitlyn Mooney was hurrying towards the docking port of her first Starfleet post, the USS Freyja. Her new red uniform, so subtly different from her cadet uniform was comfortable yet odd, like a worn pair of jeans suddenly a size too big. She tried not to be intimidated by the Klingon officer who greeted her, or the dispassionate Vulcan doctor. She tried not to get lost in reporting to the bridge, and also tried to keep her voice from squeaking when she shook hands with the First Officer — Commander Burnham, that was her name — and tried not to panic when she got lost finding her quarters. She did find them, eventually, and was suppressing her feelings of panic warring with nervousness in her gut as she hurried towards where she thought the mess hall was. She thought she had almost got them under control when she rounded a corner smack-dab into an armful of cages.
"Whoa!" an unfamiliar voice yelped as the pile scattered over the floor and various shrieks and growls of bestial protest issued forth. Caitlyn sat down hard as a cage carrying a six-winged bird hit the deck beside her. She shook her head, slightly dazed, and the repressed tears of frustration came welling up again.
"You okay there?" the voice said again, and its owner reached down a hand to help her up. She looked up into the jovial face of a large woman in a mustard uniform, whose brow was creased with worry.
"I—I'm fine, ma'am, really," Caitlyn said, scrambling to her feet. "Sorry."
"My fault, too," the woman replied, bending down to straighten the cages, and Caitlyn's eyes widened as she saw the pips on her collar. She almost squeaked. I ran down a lieutenant! she thought, panicked. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god . . . Hastily she bent down and began helping her.
"D—did you need a hand carrying these?" she asked hesitantly.
"If you haven't anywhere to be, sure," the woman replied easily, lifting most of them. Caitlyn took the remaining three, two birdcages and a tank whose reptilian occupant hissed at her as she lifted them.
"I was just going to the mess hall to get some lunch," Caitlyn replied, following her to a lift. "If I could find it."
"I'll show you myself as soon as we unload these," the lieutenant offered. "I'm due for a break and Tali can haul her own damn menagerie through hell and creation," she muttered. "Tali deLaki, science officer," she clarified for the confused crewman. "She hauls this damn menagerie from post to post, supposedly as 'specimens'." They stepped off the lift on a crew hallway, and the woman set down a few cages to open a door. It slid open, and Caitlyn's eyes widened at the profusion of cages and tanks that filled almost half the room. They set down their burden and the unfamiliar woman arched her back, cracking it, while the crewman took a curious look around at the flora and fauna.
"Lieutenant Helene Rostand," she introduced herself, extending a hand after a moment.
"Crewman Caitlyn Mooney, ma'am," she replied, taking the hand and shaking firmly.
"Sorry if I'm being rude, but are you . . .?" Helene made a jerky motion towards her forehead. Caitlyn's hand flew up almost unconsciously to touch the ridges over her eyes.
"Half." She stammered. "Cardassian, that is. M—my father . . ." She fell silent.
Helene clapped her on the shoulder. "It's okay. Now come on, my young friend," the lieutenant said, stepping out into the hallway. "Let's get some grub and leave Tali to break her own back."
They walked in silence for a while, the lieutenant content not to speak and the crewman too timid to start a conversation. Eventually the former solved this dilemma.
"This your first post, Mooney?"
"Yes, ma'am, it is."
"Fresh from the Academy then. Those were the days . . . I've seen too much of space now." She mused.
"You've served on many other ships then, ma'am?"
"Yup, quite a few. The Erstwhile, the Merrimack, the Bradbury." She gave the younger woman a mock glare. "And stop with the 'ma'am', you're making me feel old. Call me Helene if you want, or Rostand if you prefer."
"Yes, m—Lieutenant Rostand."
"There's hope for you yet." Helene said, turning into the main mess hall. "And here we are."
As they ate, Helene talked to Caitlyn about her experiences on other ships. "Now, I'm going to tell you some things I wish someone had told me on my first day," she said, pointing her knife at the crewman, who nodded eagerly. "First, the Captain and her senior staff are not the be-all and end-all of knowledge and wisdom. God knows they're as fallible as the next person, so don't let that cloud your judgement." She took another bite and a long swallow of her drink. "Second, get your sleep when you can. Times like these, we could be at red alert any time, so you better be rested for it. Third, ask questions. Most senior officers aren't bears, and they were once in your position. Fourth, do what the Captain orders, but if you see a better way, tell her. She will be reasonable." Another bite, another swallow. "And fifth, take everything with a bit of humour. It's a long ride, and if you don't know how to laugh at yourself it'll be a lonely one." She finished off her meal with a flourish, and leaned back. "Any questions?"
A thousand and one! Caitlyn thought, but she started with, "Well, actually, I was wondering . . ."
Some time later, Helene glanced at the time display over the door and broke off, mid-sentence, to swear. At Caitlyn's look, she said, "I've got a meeting with the captain in five minutes, I've got to go. See ya around!" Caitlyn twisted in her chair to see Helene disappear into the hallway.
A meeting with the captain? But I heard . . . gears whirred and clicked for a second, and: She's senior staff! Ack!
Helene berated herself for bailing on the young crewman so abruptly, but she definitely didn't want to be late for this meeting. As it was, she met Tali in the lift, the science officer brushing a smear of dirt from the pant leg of her uniform. They grinned at each other as they stepped out into the corridor, and hurried to the briefing room. They stepped inside with precisely one minute to spare and hurried to take their seats. At exactly 1500 Brodie stood and strode to the front of the room.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I've assembled you, my senior staff, to brief you on our first assignment and to make sure everyone gets to know each other." She paused. "The Freyja is a new ship, which gives me the difficult position of starting a crew from scratch. You have been chosen for your abilities, your reputations and yes, your availability. Some of you already know each other, and some are complete strangers." She nodded at Karyn Burnham. "Number One will make the introductions." Brodie sat, and Burnham stood.
"I am Commander Karyn Burnham," she said, standing and moving away from her chair. "I will be acting as the Captain's First Officer for as long as she'll have me." She moved to the side. "To my right is Lieutenant Helene Rostand, our Ops and Communications officer." Helene nodded 'hello' to the others sitting in the room. "Beside her is—"
The introductions were interrupted by a tall, broad man sporting a structured coif and moustache and reeking of cheap cologne who strode in, not at all apologetic, and seated himself with a flourish.
"Mr. Vanderbilt," the Captain drawled from her chair, "Was it the custom on your previous ship to not show up on time to meetings?"
"My apologies, Captain," he made it sound like a dirty word, "I was . . . busy," the last said with a leer in the general direction of the room.
"Continue, Number One," Brodie said, raising an eyebrow. "I'll speak with you later."
Burnham blinked. "Yes. Next to Lieutenant Rostand is Lieutenant-Commander Konrad Davies, our Chief Engineer. Next is Lieutenant M'Rdat, Chief of Security and Tactical. Doctor Jahek is our senior medical officer. Beside her is our chief science officer, Lieutenant Tali deLaki. And our late arrival is—"
"Lieutenant-Commander Miles Vanderbilt," he said with aplomb, adding another leer at anything vaguely female in the room. Helene rolled her eyes at Tali, who pantomimed gagging at his overwhelming cologne.
Brodie glared at him as she stood again. "We leave spacedock in just under one hour. Our orders are to proceed to the Hironi system to oversee the evacuation of a colony under threat of invasion by the Romulans. The colonists have already been alerted and are preparing to leave. It will take us four days at warp 6 to arrive." She grinned, a feral smile. "I want to push that a bit. The Freyja is designed for a maximum cruising speed of warp 9.8. If we can maintain warp 9.5, we'll make it in two days. Mr. Davies, can the engines handle it?"
He frowned, thinking. "She is designed for 9.8, and all systems are functioning normally. I'd say we can do it, but build up to the 9.5 slowly to test her out."
"Very good, Mr. Davies. Ms. deLaki, the colony botanists were working on some new medical breakthroughs using local plants. They have requested to transport some of their specimens on board the Freyja, as the evacuation ship doesn't have the right equipment. Can we do it?"
"I'd need to know the environmental conditions necessary for the plants to survive," she replied easily. "Preferably ahead of time to reconfigure the lab's environmental controls. Depending on how many specimens they have, I'd say we can take the greater majority of them."
"Excellent. I'll put you in contact with the colony botanists after we leave spacedock." She turned to face M'Rdat. "M'Rdat, what is the status of the weaponry?"
"All weapons systems are operating at maximum potential capacity, Captain," the halfbreed said immediately. "I've taken the time to familiarize myself with them, as the Freyja is more heavily armed than any I've previously served on."
"Make sure you know them like your own child, M'Rdat," the Captain said. "Starfleet Command says the probability of armed combat is low, but I'm inclined to think otherwise. Ms. Rostand, what is the status of the ship's systems?"
"All operating at their best, Captain," she replied. "In better condition than any ship I've flown."
"She'd better be," Brodie said wryly. "We're almost ready to fly. The time for leaving spacedock is still set at 1600 hours, the only way that would change is if the yard dogs held us back. However, I haven't heard a peep from them all day, so I want you all at your posts at 1530." She glanced at the chronometer. "Which happens to be in 12 minutes." She straightened, and looked around once more. "Let's fly this baby."
"Umbilical support cut off, all systems functioning normally," Helene announced. "Station is retracting all access ports and begin to rotate away from us."
"Mr. Vanderbilt, break away from the station." Brodie ordered calmly.
"Aye, Captain," he replied smoothly, and the Freyja slipped her moorings just as smoothly.
"Set a course for the Hironi system."
A moment's pause. "Course laid in, Captain."
Brodie smiled exultantly. "Engage." Here endeth ye Firft Parte. Tvne ine nexte time for ye Old feconde Parte.