The Importance of Names
By: Delta T
Disclaimer: Ok, wake up and get off the LSD
For some people the least and most background jobs in existence are satisfying, one person that relished in the simple and tedious activities was Jeremiah Stolensky. Ensign for life, as many would come to call him was a meaningful title and one that would never bother Ensign Stolensky. Jeremiah was assigned to the shakedown cruise of a fresh, Galaxy class starship, to be christened the U.S.S. Jupiter, as the operations officer.
The journey from Utopia Plantia to the tiny Starbase 81 on a class L planet was a long one at the observant pace of a shakedown cruise. The selected course took the new ship out of orbit around Mars and out to Alpha Centuri at Warp 4.5 and then towards Starbase 81 as Warp 8. Such a routine, boring assignment matched the repertoire of ideal assignments for Ensign Stolensky. The ship matched expectations and brought itself to Alpha Centuri with no difficult. Soon the titan of exploration vessels left the system at a faster pace.
The next step of the mission was a targeted run through an asteroid field while the crew checked the engines for stain from traveling at Warp 8. Piloted skillfully the vessel glided through while the ship's weapons blasted targets with full weapons. The ricocheting debris buffered the purposeful energy barrier around the ship and reflected back into the mayhem of the field. After the run was finished, the ship cleared the field and jumped into Warp drive.
Jeremiah sat in his chair at his station monitoring the progress of the crew inspecting the weapons and shield systems. Easily distracted, he began to count the number of buttons on his access panel, but before he got done the turbolift released its passengers and the Ensign turned from his panel and began to joke with one whom he was acquainted.
"Great time is it not?" joked Stolensky.
"Mind your post, Sir," remarked the other man who was only a Cadet.
Ensign Stolensky returned his attention to the task at hand, counting buttons. He became undecided on how to count the thruster control panel, and then he began to hum. He ignored the beeping his panel began to make.
How innocent a thing to do? So many things on a starship beep that one can miss a few without trouble and that this time it could just pass right? As the time for him to branded the Ensign for life approached he kept counting LCARS button.
The telltale beeping of the panel signaled the failure of the external sensors so the ship became confused as to why, thus, the beeping. Without the external sensors the ship was very vulnerable to many dangerous catastrophes even more so at high speeds. Soon the commander of the cruise grew tired of the noise and went to the operations post only to see the blinking warning. He had a stern feel to his voice when he turned to the helm and said, "Emergency full stop, Helm."
The ship slowed quickly. As the ship neared sublight speed a massive impact stuck the ship and the red alert sirens sounded. Everyone on the Jupiter was thrown to the deck and all lost consciousness due to the severity of the impact.
First to regain consciousness was the Bolian weapons system operator. He had only hit his head on the security panel and due to his genetically thick skull did not have a concussion even though he had been rendered unconscious. Blue skin turned purple by bruising, he struggled to regain his footing in spite of the blaring headache that was only intensified by the red alert tone. After he lifted his overweight 175 kilos to his see the instrument panel which flickered and flashed with warnings at the same time he reached determinately for the communication commands. If it was not for explosions probably from decompression he would of remain standing. After cursing himself for being so extremely overweight, the large Bolian climbed to one knee, found the distress call command on the command panel activate a generic one, surrendered to the debilitating headache, and lost his grip on consciousness.
The U.S.S. Mutara, a Nebula class, fully outfitted for defense duty received the distress call of the Jupiter and believed it to be under attack. The Mutara's captain called for maximum Warp in a passionate command to his com badge while he walked to his quarters to grab his uniform jacket from his shift in engineering. As the fifth youngest captain in Starfleet history he tried to stay the highest caliber of officer ever. Thoughts of developing a famous battle maneuver of his own appeared. The Mikhail Maneuver has a nice ring to it the man thought as he ran through the corridor to his quarters.
Looking as firm, fit, and clean as any other man, Captain Mikhail Amyot relished in the adrenaline surge of a coming battle. The Mutara came out of warp and searched for the attacker. The ship's captain expected some feral attacker to be found. There was no one. Lieutenant de Goyola, the Mutara's helmsmen, set a course around the Jupiter so the attacker could not hide from the sensors of her ship. A very wise thing to do… and it shows that not all of the best serve on the Flagship of the Fleet. Impulse engines powered to full and control thrusters fired in a dance under the coordination of the Helm.
On the view screen a crude tactical diagram was drawn with figures next to each object. The Jupiter was severely damaged, therefore; powerless and adrift. Captain Amyot sat in his chair and activated red alert. "Helm, bring our ventral section parallel to the bottom," the captain swallowed, "of what is left of the Jupiter's saucer."
"Yes, Sir," replied the soft-spoken helmsmen.
The captain slapped his com badge and said, "Mikhail to Chief Quam, Chief prepare to board the Jupiter bag up the situation and beam back survivors all at once we will cover the wrecked vessel for 45 minutes, then we leave with the remains for a known element."
"I'll get my team ready in one minute. Sir, what do you mean by a known element?" replied the Norse Chief.
"A known element is where we do not need to have our shields up. Got that Chief?" returned the captain with a light disposition.
"Yes, Sir. Sir, we are ready to depart now," said the Chief as she drew her phaser and stepped up to the transporter pad.
Captain Amyot remained seated only raised his hand and moved two fingers forward. The security office got the idea and lowered the shield, transported the team, before raising the shield again. "Helm, evasive pattern Hotel-Alpha at your discretion," called the commanding officer as he went to the empty science station to figure out what happened to the giant ship, a sheer copy of the Flagship of the Starfleet.
The Away team returned with the nineteen members of the Jupiter's shakedown crew and brought them to Sickbay where the Captain met them. A lieutenant commander in an engineer's uniform was highest ranking officer awake from the shakedown crew. Mikhail strode to the commander with a look of sheer enjoyment on his face. While sitting on medical bed receiving treatment for a bruised rib and a mild concussion, a lowly engineer saw a captain come over laughing his ass off!
"You guys hit a big rock!" screamed the Captain.
"What?" asked the engineer expecting to hear about Klingons or Cardassians.
"As you came out of Warp drive you hit a rock and destroyed thirty-two percent of your ship right off the port side of the saucer, the right nacelle, and nacelle strut." Replied the Mutara's captain.
"You and the rest of the crew will be put under investigation while the ship is repaired. Good luck with Admiral Nechayev; she is pissed about the Jupiter."
Author's ramblings;
Main character next chapter
And the beginning of the saga
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