Chapter One
Smoke filled the air. Smoke, mingled in with the smell of blood, and death. Ensign Jason Whyrens spluttered it back out, desperately trying to breathe, as he glared at the grey and green shape on the monitor that was causing his co-workers, his friends, to die around him.
The grey and green cube.
Whyrens had heard stories about the Borg, seen the data recordings of their first encounter with the Federation, when the USS Enterprise was blasted into system J-25, nearly four and a half decades earlier. Had read with horror about how they had upgraded themselves with nanotubing to make assimilation easier and more efficient…but never encountered them. Always counted himself lucky to be one of the many who'd never gone up against a Drone, let alone a group of them. 'Now,' he mused to himself, 'I'm not so lucky.' His eyes flickered down and stared through the smoke, watching a report on his chair console. 'Not mine.' He chided himself. 'Captain Qat'Anmek's chair.' Whyrens shook his head. To lose his captain to a Borg assault, whilst he himself was assisting on the USS Khitomer, was one thing. But the entire command staff, plus any officers with any command training? That was almost impossible. Almost being the operative word. An Ensign, barely out of the Academy, Whyrens was doing all he could to protect the men and women who had found themselves under his care. Older men and women, with more experience on ships. None had complained or questioned his step up to command, but Whyrens was praying that, if they survived, an older, higher ranking officer would step in and take command of his…
An explosion rocked the bridge, shaking Whyrens out of his train of thought. Scowling, he looked back up at the monitor, at the cube, wracked with explosions but still capable of so much damage, and stood, vowing to himself that they wouldn't take his ship.
"You're not taking this ship!" He howled at the screen, and ran to the tactical console, moving the corpse of one of his shipmates to one side. "Never taking this ship." He muttered, catching the eye of his only surviving bridge member.
"Sir?" The medical lieutenant looked uncertain. "We should get out of here. Just run." Whyrens looked up, and stared at her. "We can't run. The colony's still in danger, Lieutenant. Belay that thinking."
"Acting Captain Whyrens, I can have you relieved from duty for medica…" Another explosion nearly knocked them both off their feet.
"What? Okay, get Security to come and put me in leg irons, Lieutenant. Just wait until after I've destroyed the threat to the Colony, and the ship, and you!" He jabbed a panel with his fingers, and watched, with no small sense of satisfaction, as two red orbs shot from his ship and collided with the Borg Cube directly ahead. "C'mon, blow up you son of a…"
The screen went dark, as did the lights. Whyrens looked around frantically, wondering what could possibly happen now, when a voice spoke up. "Computer, end simulation."
The bridge melted around Jason, and he found himself in a large grey room, with yellow squares on the floor and walls…'A Holodeck!' He mused, remembering where he actually was. This was Starfleet Academy, and this was his final exam - he must have undergone some form of light hypnosis to make himself forget it was only a simulation. He looked around more, sucking in clean air to disperse the smoke from his lungs, and found a single person standing with him - his instructor, Qat'Anmek.
"Sir!" Whyrens saluted.
Anmek waved the salute down. "Yes, yes, enough of that, Cadet. How do you think you performed on the Vega test?"
Jason paused. "Inadequate, sir." His superior raised an eyebrow. "Explain?"
Jason started to pace, something that his peers often found annoying, but helped him gather his thoughts. "I didn't save the crew of the ship. The Vega colony was saved, but at tremendous cost. And the Borg Cube…"
"The cube was destroyed." Anmek smiled. "Yes, you lost almost all hands on ship, but you destroyed the threat to the colonists, and the ship itself would be salvageable."
"To Pakleds, maybe." Whyrens spat out, before he could stop himself.
Anmek did nothing, gave no indication that he had heard Jason's' outburst, merely stood at attention for ten beats, before continuing. "Cadet, do you know why all students at the Academy are required to take the Vega test?"
Jason shook his head. "No, sir. I know it replaced the old Kobayashi Maru after the seventh class were caught tampering with the files to cheat it. But I don't know why we all take this test."
"We take it because no matter what division of the Fleet you're in, whether it's Tactical, Sciences, or Operations, everyone needs to learn the same thing. It's the mission that's important. Yes, getting your ship and crew out safely is important too, but it's a secondary priority. The main purpose is so people realise that the safety of a planet, or a solar system, or the galaxy, is more important than the lives of themselves and their team." Anmek shook his head. "I wish it were otherwise, I've seen good Officers die, and less than capable ones promoted in their stead. But we risk our lives so that others don't have to. Understood, Lieutenant?"
Jason nodded before the words had fully sunk in, or their meaning. "Yes, sir, I…" He paused. "Lieutenant?"
Anmek smiled. "Congratulations on passing the Vega test, and earning your commission, and your temporary promotion as Brevet Captain. Your first posting is waiting for you, Lieutenant Whyrens, and it's up there."
Jason couldn't believe his luck. It was true! Lower ranking officers really were taking command of whole vessels. Ignoring the nagging thought that it was only because of the war against the Klingons that he was taking command, his mind started to race, considering the possibilities of ships. What was his first command going to be? Refit Constitution? Excalibur? Sovereign? Not a Defiant class…
"Yes," Anmek continued. "You're being put in command of the Miranda class USS Fizzgig."
'Miranda class? Oh…Tribblefur.'
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"Captain on deck, sir!" The blond man smirked at Jason, performing a textbook military salute. "Captain Whyrens, sir, First Officer Samuel Edwards, sir, reporting for duty, sir, and wondering, sir, just wondering, sir, if the Captain feels like an idiot yet, sir?"
Jason glared at Ensign Edwards - Sammy - and looked around slowly, taking in the sights and sounds of Starbase One. His best friend for longer than either of them could remember, they joined the Academy at the same time, took some of the same lessons. Sammy went into Medical, whereas he joined the Tactical track, but they never drifted apart. 'Unfortunately.' Jason thought to himself, keeping his smile to himself. He looked over Sammy, and shook his head. "Do you call that a salute, Ensign?"
Sammy started to lower his arm, and Jason glared at him. "Hold that salute, Officer." He
waited until Sammy returned to his salute, and walked around him, slowly, examining his friend for anything he could find out of place.
"Dude, my arm…"
"Silence on deck, Ensign Edwards." Mike grinned broadly, unable to contain his humour, and was glad that he was behind Sammy at the time. "There'll be no talking back on my bridge, or I'll consider it mutiny. Mutiny, Mr Edwards, is not something you want to be charged with. Do I make myself clear?"
"What?"
"Do I make myself clear?"
"Sir, yes sir!" Sammy bellowed.
"Good. Now, hold that pose until I say otherwise." Sammy started to turn, to face him, but Jason shook his head. "Eyes forward, Mister!"
When he was certain that Sammy was, indeed, facing front, Jason quietly moved away from him, and turned to some other cadets…former cadets…who were watching in amusement from their vantage point at the bar. Creeping over to them, he nodded to the barman, who was polishing a glass.
"Roebuck Cola?"
The barman nodded, and went to the replicator.
One of the students, another Tactical track, by the look of him, nodded towards Sammy.
"How long before he realises you're not there?"
Jason shrugged, but before he could answer, he heard a shout from behind him. "Whyrens!" He chuckled, and turned around slowly. "Yes?"
"You're a….a…"
"A what?"
"A git!"
The combined group of students laughed, loudy, and even the bartender smiled slightly and shook his head. "Right, anyway," Sammy frowned, rubbing his sore shoulder. "What're we going to do, Oh Captain?"
"Well," Jason pulled out a Padd, and consulted it briefly. "According to this, I have to go to see Admiral Quinn, and then meet with a Commander Sulu."
"Winters."
Jason looked at the cadet who'd spoken. "Pardon?"
"Commander Winters."
"What happened to Commander Sulu?"
The cadet shrugged. "Promoted to Captain, finally, and shipped out to the Neutral Zone."
"About damned time." One of the other cadets said, smiling. "Now perhaps we'll stop being bugged with people asking where Sulu is all the time."
"People couldn't find him?" Jason glanced at Sammy, who returned his confused look. "He was Admiral Quinn's Aide-de-camp, wasn't he? So he'd be in the Admiral's office,"
"You'd think so." This new cadet, a white haired Andorian, shrugged again easily. "Rumour has it that he was rarely at his post, so nobody could ever find him." She leaned forwards conspiratorially, and beckoned the two graduates closer. "Gambling problem, I hear."
"Sulu?" Sammy squeaked. "Ohh, myyy." He was about to say something else, when a tall, statuesque Redhead ran up to them. "Sorry, did I hear you say something about Sulu? I've been looking for him everywhere."
Sammy, momentarily tongue-tied, merely gaped. Jason shook his head at his friend, and smiled towards the newcomer. "He's been transferred to the Neutral Zone. You want Commander Winters, in Admiral Quinn's office."
The Redhead snorted. "Whatever, Noob." She ran off again, with Sammy staring after her. "Dude."
"Yeah?"
"Is it my imagination, or are there a lot of Redheads in Starfleet?"
Jason looked around. Sure enough, one in every five female officers and cadets passing them by had red hair.
"You know…I think you're right."
The Andorian chuckled to herself. "Well, kids, it's been fun, but I have to report to my posting before we ship out."
"Aww, c'mon." Sammy almost pouted. "One drink. We just graduated, and I dragged Jay-Mac to this bar because it's the one place in this sector that doesn't serve Synthethol."
"Well…"
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The night went on, the other cadets left over time as alcohol went down, and, my dear friends, our fine heroes found themselves in a state they had never before encountered. They had undergone rigorous training in diplomacy, in sleep deprivation, in withstanding Klingon torture techniques (although, as Sammy had reckoned, "listening to their Opera is bad enough!") and had, under strict medical care, taken various drugs and hallucinogens to learn how to combat the feelings these intoxicants left them with. However, none of this could compare with these young adults experiencing their first rush of freedom, of accomplishment…and hard grain alcohol.
"You know what?" Sammy gestured wildly towards Jason, spilling his drink in the process. "Thish man right here….riiiiight here…" Sammy stopped, and experimentally closed one eye. It made sense to him, after all, there were suddenly three of his best friend, and closing an eye made it easier to tell which one was real. "Thish man is my brother."
"Thanksh…who are you?" Jason and Sammy stared at each other in silence for a second, then started roaring with laugher.
"You two are insh….insh…" Corspa, the Andorian, frowned. "You're nutsh!" She beamed at the pair, quite happy that she was able to articulate her feelings appropriately.
"Heeeey! Blue girl!" Sammy gestured again, losing more of his drink in the process. "Whatsh wrong with your shtalksh?"
"My…what?"
"Your shtalks, girl!" he held up his free hand, and made an antennae movement at the top of his head. Corspa grew pale, and reached for the top of her head.
"Whatsh wrong with them?"
"They're all droopy. Ain't they droopy, Jay?"
Jason nodded solemnly. "Droopy."
Corspa shrugged. "Musht be all the alcohol." She glanced at her chrono. "Aww, Tribblefur. I really have to get to my ship. We have to be on deck ready to depart at 22:00."
"That shucks." Sammy shook his head sadly. "Well, blow up some Klinks for me, Corshpy."
"That's Corshpa." Their new friend smiled, put her drink down, stood up, straightened her uniform, and promptly collapsed.
Sammy watched all this happen, and did what, to him, was the most honourable, gentlemanly thing he could think of doing.
He laughed.
Jason slid off his stool, scooped an arm around Corspa, and helped get her back up. "C'mon, Soldier, on your feet."
"Yesh Sir." Corspa smiled at him, then felt herself lean towards the other side. 'Clearly', she mused to herself, 'The artificial gravity generators are malfunctioning. The chief engineer of this Base needs to be disciplined quite severely.' Then for no reason she could discern, she started giggling.
"Oh, yeah." Sammy said, wiping a tear from his eye. "Big tough soldier giggles like a girl."
"I am a girl!" Corspa pouted. "I'm also an expert in Mok'bara, Tsunkatse..."
"Gesundheit." Jason offered, getting a glare in return. "And Suus Mahna."
"Never heard of it." Sammy shrugged.
"It'sh not my fault if your education ish lacking." Corspa shot back. "What about aikido?"
"Yesh." Sammy nodded.
"Well, then!" Corspa nodded back, as if this explained everything. "Now, I have to get to my ship!"
Jason let go, experimentally, and Corspa slowly, if surely, moved towards the nearest exit.
"Dude, we have to get to the Fizzy one."
"Yesh!" Sammy nodded, and stood up, very uncertainly. They helped each other out of the bar, waving to the bartender as they went. Finding the transporter chamber, they ran into a familiar figure, arguing with the Chief.
"Corspa!" Sammy waved happily. "Why aren't you on your ship?"
"I'unno." She murmured. "I gotta get on board my ship, Chief." She sulked. "I don't want to be on uniform replicator duty, it'd kill me!"
The Chief, a surly, dark haired man, shrugged. "Not my problem, Ensign."
Jason strode forwards, trying not to stumble, towards the Chief and the transporter console. Leaning against the console heavily, in an attempt to disguise his drunkenness, he gestured at his lapel.
"Chief, what's my rank say?"
"It says Lieu..." The Chief trailed off, noticing the Brevet Captain pin for the first time. Drawing smartly to attention, his face assumed a blank expression.
"Captain, Sir!"
"And will you beam Ensign Corspa to her ship?"
"Sir, yes sir! Pulling up the relevant details now." The Chief suited actions to words, tapping furiously on his console. Jason nodded, and brought his two friends over to the transporter pad.
"Good. Now, beam the Ensign to her ship, and myself and my Chief Medical Officer to ours."
"Sir?"
"Just do it, Chief!" Jason fought to keep the grin from his face. He was giving orders! He was a Captain!
Sammy looked over at Corspa, and waved sadly.
"See you around the Quadrant, Corshpy."
"You too...Shammy." Corspa smiled at them both, and then all three were taken away by beams of light...
...Only to re-appear to each other a few seconds later.
"What?" Jason glanced around. The Chief had obviously brought them back to the Starbase. He was about to speak, when another voice rang out, clear as crystal, and twice as cold.
"Captain on deck!"
With a whistle, the five men and women stood in front of the three Graduates snapped to attention. The woman who had spoken took a step forward. Jason instinctively did the same, and took the womans' proferred hand. "Captain Whyrens, sir. Ensign Edwards, Ensign Corspa. Welcome aboard the USS Fizzgig. I trust you didn't get too lost, and...what's that smell?"
It was Corspa who found her voice first. "I...I just got drunk with...the Captain?"
Jason heard a dull thud from behind him, and didn't really need to turn around to know that Corspa had taken the news rather badly.
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All things considered, it didn't take too long for Jason to settle into a routine aboard the Fizzgig. His initial misgivings about the Miranda class aside, the Fizzgig was a solid, sturdy ship, brought out of inactive service for the war with the Klingon Empire. Being a Captain, albeit a Brevet one, ranked him not just spacious quarters, but a real water shower. As a Cadet, he had gotten used to the Sonic Showers, but nothing was quite as refreshing as being able to stand under a stream of hot, powerfully driven jets of water in the morning. 'There's just one thing wrong with this assignment'. He mused to himself the day after he had arrived...
Corspa, passed out on the transporter pad, was lifted up and bodily carried away by two security officers.
"I hope they're not too hard on her." Jason commented to Sammy.
"They won't be." The woman who had greeted them said, smiling slightly. "As of 0900 tomorrow morning, she's their boss. New head of security."
"Ah."
"However," The woman continued. "You, on the other hand don't get to spend the night in a drunken stupor." She held out a hand to forestall any lies or excuses. "I know that smell, and I can't say I really approve…but you're the Captain, and I can understand the need to celebrate." She glanced behind Jason, and then continued, shaking her head. "Normally, I'd refer you to the Chief Medical Officer for something to help with that; unfortunately, the Chief Medical Officer is sitting in a heap behind you, singing ancient sea shanties."
Jason glanced behind him. Sammy was, in fact, sitting in a heap behind him, singing quietly to himself.
"So…what happens now?"
The woman smirked. "Now, we show your CMO to his respective quarters, where he'll fall into a deep sleep, and wake up with a horrible headache. You, however, have a tour of the ship, Orientation, and crew records to go over with your First Officer."
'Wonderful.' Jason thought to himself. 'At least I get away from her!'
She turned to leave, then looked back over her shoulder. "By the way…I'm your first officer. Commander Katharine Hill."
"Great."
The Miranda class, as Jason learned during his Orientation, was based on the old Anton class research cruiser. Just over 237 metres long and 141 metres wide, the 11 decks of the ship made for cramped living conditions, especially for Jason, who grew up in the countryside of England, and then the spacious Academy in San Francisco. Crewing 200 people in a ship that small seemed like an odd way to do things, but as Jason had heard one of his Academy instructors remark, "They really packed them in on those old ships."
And old it was. Despite attempts to refit the Miranda class to something more functional for the 25th Century, there were still issues, as was to be expected of a ship designed over 150 years ago. With a mere two forward weapons systems, and one rear, Jason felt slightly under-defended, in case he had to go into battle. Not just that, but because of system issues and power resources needed elsewhere, there were no replicators, no Holodeck, and no crew lounge. 'This is shaping up,' Jason mused to himself, 'To be a very long tour.'
As Jason walked onto the bridge of the Fizzgig, his first day in command, all officers stopped and looked at him. 'They're all so much older than me.' Jason thought to himself despairingly. 'How must I appear to them?' He caught sight of three officers standing close together, looking at him expectantly. 'Well, at least not everybody's older than me.' He nodded to Sammy, Corspa, and Hill…his senior staff. 'Senior staff, what a joke. Sammy and Corspa are my age, and Hill's only a year older than I am. These adults aboard this ship are looking to children to lead.' His helmsman smiled slightly, catching Jasons' eye. The man had a twinkle in his eye, catching the solid black pupils and iris...
'Oh, crap.' Jason thought to himself. 'You're a Betazoid, aren't you?'
The telepathic helmsman nodded slightly.
'And you heard all that, didn't you?'
Another nod.
'So much for internal monologuing.' He took a breath, then looked around his bridge. "My name is Jason Whyrens. Effective from this Stardate, I hereby assume command of this vessel. XO, please make a note in the ships log."
Hill tapped a button on her Padd. "So noted, sir."
Jason nodded, and turning slowly, looked every member of his bridge crew in the eye. "Now, I know some of you may question my age. However, the Starfleet I work for is the same one you've worked for, depended on, and trusted, for all your careers. I wouldn't have been given this command if I wasn't capable. In time, you'll learn you can all come to depend on me...but I know that respect must be earned, and not given. So, I look forward to earning your trust." He sat down on his chair, relishing the feeling of it. For the first time, he truly felt in command.
"Helmsman, set course 100, mark five. Docking thrusters at half until we clear Spacedock."
The helmsman spun about. "Heading 100, mark five, aye sir."
"XO, transmit intentions to depart from Spacedock, heading out into Sector Space as soon as we're clear to warp."
Hill nodded once, and started walking towards the Communications console, typing in commands to her Padd. Jason turned to Sammy and Corspa. "Ensign Edwards, Ensign Corspa, to your posts please."
They both nodded, and moved out of Jasons' eyeline, so he had an unobstructed view of the screen before him.
Hill looked up. "Spacedock sends its' regards, Captain, and permission to enter warp when ready."
"We are clear of Spacedock, and ready for warp, Captain, sir." The Helmsman chimed in.
Jason allowed himself one tiny smile. "These are the voyages..." He muttered to himself. Standing up, he pointed towards the screen. "Warp one. Engage!"