Chapter 1: Anticlimax
Ensign Jordan Singer was bored. For the umpteenth time that day he set his course to intercept the small hospital ship and pulled the runabout McCoy away from the convoy. He looked at the line of warships he was leaving behind and sighed. The Federation grey of their hulls was blackened in some places where Jem'Hadar disruptors had scorched the paint. This was the closest he would get to the war.
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In the runabout's modified cargo hold, Sovek was annoyed, or would be if Vulcans felt emotion. He would prefer if the non-Vulcan medical staff kept their conversations on the job at hand. At the moment that job was in the converted cargo hold of the runabout, attending to the injured Starfleet personnel they had just taken on from the USS Calusa. Unfortunately, the male nurse assisting Sovek insisted on useless prattle.
"It really is an honor to be working with you, sir." The nurse told him, like every other Doctor and Nurse said to the preeminent Vulcan Doctor. "Your papers on the Tellarite physiology were brilliant. I can't believe you left the Medical Research Center on Vulcan to be a battle field doctor."
"My presence should be evidence enough to quell your disbelief." Sovek replied as he administered a pain killer to a badly burned patient. "My skills were needed here, so I came here. It was logical." As a rule, Vulcans don't lie, but deep down Sovek knew he wasn't telling the whole truth.
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"How do you say it again?" Crewman Akins asked Doctor Kizmet as he fished the wire he was looking for out from behind the dead computer console.
"Zonsopgang." She said the word slowly and over enunciated it. A day earlier the word would have echoed down the massive sick bay, but today it had been steadily filling with the wounded from the convoy.
"Are you sure that's the name of a Human colony?" The technician asked, his voiced muffled as he squirmed under the console.
Kizmet let out a small laugh, "I'm from there. The name is Dutch, it means Sunrise."
"I didn't even know you were human when I first saw you Doctor Kizmet."
"You can call me Kizzy, and I get that a lot. It's the skin and hair." Her skin had a very deep tan and here hair was a sun bleached blond. "Our star is much closer to Zonsopgang than the Sun is to Earth."
"I never knew that." Adkins said, closing up the console. When he did it flickered to life. "There you go, Kizzy. Now let's hope the other ninety-nine intensive care stations in this sickbay weren't wired as bad as this one."
"Or the five hunred extended care quarters." Kizzy joked back.
Adkins rolled his eye, "Well I guess I better get back to work."
As the technician sauntered on to his next job, Kizmet stepped up to the computer console. She pulled up a list of the ships in the convoy, and her humor left her. It wasn't there.
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The Nightingale was now very large through the foreword window of the runabout. Jordan thought it looked like a box with warp nacelles. The main hull was a kind of cylinder cut in half lengthwise. The flat of the half cylinder was the dorsal side of the ship. Sprouting out of the four corners of the dorsal hull were struts supporting the port and starboard warp nacelles. The nacelles were long, matching the length of the main hull. Stuck on the front of the ship, almost as an after thought, was the semi-ellipse that held the bridge and gave away the Nightingale as a Federation ship. It was function over form for the small Hippocrates class hospital ship.
Opening a channel Jordan repeated the words he had been uttering all day, "USS Nightingale, this is the Runabout McCoy Requesting docking clearance."
"Runabout McCoy, this is the Nightingale, request received and granted." The curt voice of Lt. Rosh replied, just as crisp and precise as the Andorian Executive Officer always mannered himself. Jordan could nearly see Lt. Rosh's perpetually ironed uniform and the fresh shine of his gleaming boots. The XO reeked of professionalism from head to toe. Jordan had suspicions that Rosh yearned to be on the frontlines as much as he did. But if he did, would never say.
The runabout was now heading directly towards the Nightingale's stern where the shuttle bay was nestled in between the ships two impulse engines. The windows briefly glowed as the runabout breached the force field that separated the artificial atmosphere of the Nightingale from the vacuum of space. There was a creek and a hiss as the runabout settled onto the deck of the shuttle bay and the pressure between the two ships equalized.
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Ensign Mathew Hudson stole a glimpse of the underside of the runabout as it touched down on the deck of the Nightingale's shuttlebay. The glow from the nacelles of the main engines faded as power was reduced and Hudson waved the waiting doctors and nurses in. The doors of the McCoy's modified cargo hold opened and the patients began pouring out under Sovek's direction.
"Is the runabout okay?" A voice asked Hudson from behind.
"Yeah, just checking it over." He replied, turning to meet the voice. He snapped to attention when he saw the gray haired man who had asked. "I mean yes, sir, Commander Marion."
Blake Marion smiled. He was amused by the military curtsies afforded him. "At ease Ensign Hudson. And it's only Lieutenant Commander." Marion tapped the rank insignia pips pinned on the collar of his uniform.
"Of course, sir." Hudson relaxed his posture, but not too much.
"And the um… transporter, when is it going to be repaired?"
"Our transporter is one hundred percent, Skipper. But the convoy ships are pretty beat up from their last battle. Fluctuations in their power systems could corrupt the matter stream during transport. Its an unlikely to happen, but using the runabouts eliminates that risk."
Marion nodded. "Keep up the good work then." He patted Hudson on the shoulder and moved away from the technical conversation that was far over his head.
He strolled over to Dr. Sovek. "How is our latest batch of patients?"
"Stable." The Vulcan replied. "But some will require much of our attention to regain their optimal health."
"They shall have it. After all, that's what we're here for."
Sovek's eyes focused on Marion's collar. "I find it curious your uniform has a blue collar. I am not entirely familiar with Starfleet's regulations, but I believe the Captain of a ship traditionally wears red."
"Traditionally, yes. However, I am the Chief Medical Officer in addition to the Captain. I believe on a hospital ship my duty as a doctor come first. Our battlefield is in that sickbay," Marion motioned to the mammoth space directly forward of the shuttle bay, "it's not like I will be ordering anybody to fire phasers."
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Jordan hopped out of the runabout from the cockpit door. He noticed the slight shift in gravity as his body crossed the door's threshold. Although all Starfleet gravity generators were normally set to the Federation's gravitational reference, slight variations in control calibration between the runabout and the Nightingale caused a small gravitational deviation that went unnoticed to all that were not anticipating it. The sensation was much more pronounced when stepping onto a planet where there were no artificial gravity generators, and rarely did any planet's mass correlate to the gravitational reference. But Jordan did not consider any of this, he simply noted that sensation.
Hudson met Jordan at the base of the runabout. "Hey Jordo, McCoy powered down?"
"Hey Hud. I can't power down until Sovek is finished with the medical equipment. Not all the patients have been unloaded yet." Jordan replied. "I just had to stretch my legs; I've been in that cockpit for eight hours."
"Well, that was the last run. Chief Reilly is bringing in the final load of patients from the convoy." The two friends strolled towards shuttle bay force field. The Phlox, the Nightingale's other resident runabout was still to far away to be differentiated from the long line of ships in the convoy.
Jordan was envious. "Look at them Hud, all of them going to war. And where are we going?"
"We're going to take these people to starbase, then we'll meet up with another convoy."
"And I'll be flying a runabout, ferrying another load of patients back here, safe and sound and all my actions inconsequential to the war." Jordan crossed his arms and looked at the deck.
"Hey, the sick and injured need treatment. If you don't fly them here, they don't get that treatment." Hud patted his friend on the back.
"It's easy for you. You're an Ensign and already a chief engineer."
"Jordan, that runabout has a more complex warpdrive system than this ship. Main Engineering is nearly as small as our quarters. Yes, I'm in charge of those engines, but Nightingale is more like a gloried shuttle than full blown starship."
"But you're still doing what you're trained to do. You're doing what you want to do." Jordan sighed. "I'm a bus driver, only a runabout or this glorified shuttle instead of a bus. Anyone could be doing my job. I want to be part of this fight. I want to be out there making a difference."
The two Ensigns looked up simultaneously at the flash of a ship coming out of warp. A moment later Jordan was contacted by the bridge, "Lieutenant Franks to Ensign Singer."
"Singer here. Go ahead Lieutenant Junior Grade Franks." Jordan thought Franks was much more impressed with his position as operations officer than anyone else on board.
"Has the McCoy been powered down?" Franks asked.
"No." Jordan told him, unsure of what was coming next.
"Good." Franks' voice had a perverse joy in it. "The USS Noble has just arrived with wounded."
Jordan rolled his eyes. He had been counting on a break, but it looked like one more ride to the convoy that would inevitably leave him behind. "Understood" was all he could say before heading back to the McCoy.
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Kizmet was taking the vitals of one of the new arrivals when the PADD in her coat pocket beeped indicating the computer had updated the list of convoy ships. She pulled the PADD out of her pocket, but didn't look at it. Did she really want to be disappointed again? If it wasn't him this time, could she bear it? She had to know. She shut her eyes and raised the PADD level with her face. She took a deep breath and looked at the list.
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Sovek had finished unloading the patients and secured the medical hold for departure. Jordan was standing at the cockpit door and was about to touch the button that would close it, when he saw Doctor Kizmet rushing out of the large opening to sickbay. Jordan thought she was beautiful.
With Franks as his superior, Jordan's on-duty time was rarely gratifying. The Nightingale had no holodeck, no low gravity gym, no recreational facilities of any kind, so his off duty time was often less than entertaining. However, being assigned to the Nightingale didn't seem as bad when he was with Kizzy.
"Jordan, thanks for holding the door. Got room for one more?" Kizmet asked, a little out of breath.
Jordan realized he was staring, and quickly pulled himself together. "Sure." He said with a smile. "But all I can promise you is mundane trip out and back to that galaxy class that just warped in."
"That will do." Kizzy answered as Jordan helped her up into the cockpit.
The McCoy lifted off the deck, backed out of the shuttle bay, and gracefully turned towards the convoy.
As the runabout increased speed towards its destination Chief Reilly came across the comm. "McCoy, this is Phlox, request port to port."
"Phlox, this is McCoy. Copy that, port to port." Jordan replied.
"Singer, if you need me when you get back, I'll be in my rack." The Chief said before closing the comm.
Kizment gave Jordan a quizzical look. "What was that all about?"
"Oh, the Chief is just bragging about how he'll be in bed a lot sooner than me." Jordan explained.
"Bragging about being in bed?"
"We're heading into hour nine of this operation. I've spent a lot time in this chair today." Jordan said, fishing for sympathy.
Kizzy willingly took the bait. "Nine hours? Without a break? You poor thing."
"Well, it's a lot easier this run, since I have someone to talk to." Jordan was rewarded with broad smile from Kizmet. It lifted his spirits so much that he momentarily thought there might be a problem with the gravity generators.
The rest of the trip to the Noble flew by quickly. Jordan was not sure why Kizzy had wanted to come along on the trip. He knowingly deluded himself, deciding it had to be his charming company.
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As far as support craft go, a runabout is large. Even so the McCoy was dwarfed by the USS Noble. Docking clearance received, Jordan maneuvered the McCoy between the Noble's warp nacelles. The door of the main shuttle bay on the starship's saucer section began to open as the runabout commenced its final approach. Jordan felt a small thrill; this is what he imagined his first assignment would be like. He fantasized that he was returning to his ship, a starship, rather than just stopping by to pick up patients. As the runabout touched down on the deck, Jordan and Kizmet could see that their passengers were already being prepared for their trip.
"Look at them all; this is going to be a full boat." Jordan said, watching the stretchers begin to flow towards the medical hold.
Kizmet said nothing; she just stood up and leaned forward over the console to better see out of the window. Scanning the deck of the shuttle bay Kizzy's eyes finally found what they were searching for. Her mouth curled into a broad smile and pointed out the window.
"That's him!" She exclaimed.
"Who?" Jordan asked as Kizzy quickly crossed the cockpit and opened the door. Jordan rose and followed her, completely mystified as to what was going on.
Jordan was dodging antigrav stretchers and medical equipment as he followed Kizmet across the bay. With the crowd of patients, doctors, and nurses, he would have quickly lost track of Kizzy if it was not for her unique appearance, courtesy of her Zonsopgang heritage. She came to a stop in front of a human male. Jordan slowed his jog to a walk as he continued to close on the pair. Jordan stopped and just about fell over when saw Kizmet wrap her arms around the man and kiss him passionately.
After a few long moments Kizzy and the man parted lips. Several more moments passed as she and the man exchanges sweet words in whispered tones. Kizzy finally noticed the gaping Ensign Singer and called him over. "Jordan, come here. I want you to meet my fiancé."
Jordan took stock of the man, noting his red collar and the rank of Lieutenant pinned to it. Feeling very awkward Jordan stepped forward and extended his hand. "Jordan Singer."
"Jacob Millen." Kizzy's fiancé said shaking Jordan's hand.
"Jacob is a helmsman too." Kizzy interposed.
The conversation continued and Jordan was finding it harder and harder to continue smiling and acting as though he was enjoying himself. Jacob had been assigned to the Noble straight out of the academy. Jacob had been at the helm of the Noble as it covered the retreat of this very convoy, and then heroically escaped themselves. Jacob had Kizzy.
"Well, I'll leave you to alone. Let you catch up. Pleasure to meet you Jacob." Jordan excused himself and retreated to his runabout.
Easing back into the chair he had spent the majority of the day in Jordan felt more frustration with his assignment than ever. Through the forward window of the runabout, he could see his life as he wished it was. He wished it was Jacob's life.
Less than an hour had passed, but it might as well have been a week when Sovek reported the medical hold ready for departure. Shortly after that he heard Kizzy and Jacob fawning over each other just outside the cockpit door before saying goodbye. Kizzy popped into the cockpit all smiles and took her seat. Jordan found her joy all the more depressing.
The McCoy departed the Noble and headed away from the convoy one last time. The line of ships tightened up their formation with the USS Noble moving into the lead position. Jordan looked at Kizzy and then at the convoy. The formation of ships began to warp away, as did all of Jordan's hopes and dreams.