"Personal
Log; Ambassador Alexis 'Cardinal' Harrison
I'm
saw a floating leaf, today, and its carrying a bloated spider, these
spiders, have a large enough web of their own, without having to
impinge on others, Robert the Bruce may have absent mindedly
tormented a spider and grown staunch from it, but I intend to
ameliorate the situation and ensure that...
End Log."
"Chief
Engineer's Log, Stardate 57737.1
I've
only been aboard this ship twelve hours and I'm already running out
of time to get her up and ready for Sunday's launch. T-12's engineers
seem to have done a fine job with the refit but, as always, there're
bugs to work out. Sickbay's ODN lines were giving grief, and that
glorified light show they call a doctor was stuck in a loop. Then
that Andorian at Ops wanted the sensors messing with. What does he
think I am, a Q? There's enough to be done without taking time out
for his pet projects. I'll give Ensign McKenzie the job - fresh out
of the Academy but he specialised in sensor operations.
At least the main engines are sound. After five years on a Batch 1 Galaxy it'll be a pleasant change to be able to leave routine core ops to the computer without risking the thing blowing up in everyone's face. This Akira may not have the raw power of the Olympiad, but at least it's stable.
There've been a few problems with the main phaser banks - power's a bit wobbly during the charging sequence. I need to speak to Jon Hewer about that, see if we can stabilise it.
End Log."
"Chief
of Security's log, Stardate 57737.2
I
met our Command crew today, seems like a sound lot. A larger then
normal number of combat person aboard, though I think one should
thank the Dominion for such. After our first senior staff meeting I
removed myself to meet the rest of my security staff. Starfleet has
seen fit to give me a fair size force for such a small ship. Sixty
four tactical troops, thirty two security staff, and another ten or
so crewmen in various roles, including a Master at Arms. Such a
position should have fallen to a higher rank and I have four times
over turned such down. This must be a punishment for stepping back on
rank. For the most part I find the crew fit and ready, though be it,
young. Some of my troops don't even have to shave yet but once a week
still. They look a bit frail in some spots, still a bit slow to make
it on the bounce when called. But I'll break that of them. I'll turn
these puppies into beasts soon enough. My Master at Arms is running
the ships armoury. He's an old warhorse that dates back forty years
in the service; I have served with him before and am proud to do so
again.
All in all, so far it's been an easy start. I plan to begin running combat drills with my troops in the next few days once they get seated a bit more.
End Log."
"Thank you - what was it? - McKenzie. You certainly know your stuff, and don't worry - you'll have tricks better than mine once you've been in space for 8 years. I'll be glad to tell Seafort what a great help you've been."
Dismissing the young Ensign, Mikey made his way down to engineering once again. He was disappointed, not that Seafort couldn't do the job personally, but that he seemed to have muffed an overture toward the Chief Engineer. Why did these pinkies have to be so sensitive?
"Seafort - I don't mean to intrude; I just wanted to say thanks, and mention how helpful Ensign McKenzie has been. I'm afraid you might have mistaken my tone before. As my grandfather used to say, 'If you need your ship to work, better be friends with the man who MAKES it work.' This is for you - and I'd be happy to spill it with you anytime." With that, Mikey hands the engineer a newly laid-down bottle of Andorian ale (or as the Andorians call it, 'ale') and excuses himself.
After a quick trip to the Lieutenant Hewer's quarters, Mikey's beep for entry was met with a tired, "Yes? Come in."
"We haven't been introduced properly. I am M'karn W'trisk, of clan Trisk, but everyone has called me 'Mikey' since I was at the Academy. I wanted to meet you - I understand you've overseen the refit of the Daystrom, and are the man with his finger on the button. I shared that station on my previous assignment, although the Stilwell was nothing like your girl here. I also wanted to bring you this –" whereupon Mikey hands the lieutenant a second narrow bottle of deep blue ale - "as my grandfather says, 'If you need your ship to stay in one piece, make friends with the man who defends her.' If you get a chance, I'd love to talk with you about the systems upgrades here, gunning torpedo boats... Maybe even give you a chance to hear my flabbjellah. Pleasure to meet you, Hewer."
Mikey heads for the turbolift again, directs it to sickbay - then changes his mind, and heads for the bridge...
"Chief
Helmsman's log, Stardate 57737.2
Today
was my first day on the Daystrom. I've only been at an Akira's helm
in the holodecks before but I'm sure I could land this thing on the
ground if I had to, assuming we aren't too heavily damaged. Since we
haven't left Spacedock yet I haven't done much other then run a
diagnostic, and install my taur-form seat at the helm. All systems
read operating within parameters, but I'm looking into possible ways
to install a joystick control system. I'm looking into what I can do
myself. Engineering is busy enough with working out the bugs from the
refit without me asking them to help me with personal projects.
I'm looking forward to testing this ship in combat, which I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of. I just hope she holds up to my moves. I've been noted for pushing ships to their limits, but I've yet to destroy a ship, from my manoeuvres at least.
End log."
Commander Teaos was currently sitting in one of the civilian entertainment lounges on the station with a few of his crew, including the young ensign who was his only other officer in his department and a few of his enlisted crew. Most were civilian who had decided they wanted access to Starfleet's resources and travel opportunities. With only a crash coarse at a Starfleet training facility to get them up to speed on Starfleet procedures they were pretty raw, which was exactly how Teaos liked it.
He always considered himself a scientist first and an officer second, hell if it wasn't for the fact he had want to command his own Nova one day he wouldn't have even bothered becoming an officer. One thing anyone under his command learned quick was he was rather blasé about procedure. So long as the work got done he didn't really care how.
Knocking back what ever it was he was drinking… something green, Teaos leaned forward as one of his crew was talking about her work on slipstream theory… this is why he became a scientist.
Emerging onto the bridge, Mikey paced slowly around the room, then to his station at ops. He could get a feel for the area, now, with the warp core running. Closing his eyes, he did feel the room - very literally. Through his antennae, he felt the minute variations in AG from one part of the room to the other; the vibrations of the power conduits in the walls; the barely-there static charge from the LCARS consoles - and one other thing.
"Icy hells! Why do they keep their ships so damn warm?"
Well, this was his place, now. As a Starfleet officer and as a member of clan Trisk, Mikey knew that this room was now the most likely place he would either kill or die. He grinned a small one-sided grin, thinking that in this ship, it would probably be the former.
He looked at the PADD he carried containing a duplicate copy of the flight deck duty roster. He added a note – "My staff is happy to assist with any tactical-craft drills or accommodations, please see me, or coordinate between MetalHead and the flight deck duty officer or CPO Sharkey" - and prepared to take it to Deepcrush's office.
Mikey stepped into the turbolift. "Deck nine, holodeck two," he said. As the lift began to move, he spoke to the computer again. "Run unarmed combat program M'karn Pankration on holodeck two - run it at level four."
Before entering for his workout, Mikey touched his comm. badge. "Teaos," he said, "I've got some sensor mods we should discuss."
'Cardinal' sharply bolted upright, as if the very fabric of his essence itself was unravelling.
Waiting for his eyes to accustom themselves to the enforced dark of his quarters, "eliminate the extraneous to focus the necessary," after all, he decided that it would be prudent, to assess the potential of his 'floating family' through a series of tasks and scenarios.
Even with a mind, as unassuming and unconventional as his own, and even with the beaurocracy of his diplomacy career and the dynamics of his vocation, it still would be quite a task, to evaluate and understand, the motives and allegiances of the alien elements of his crew; even this in itself was a dichotomy, innate to 'Cardinal', for despite his heritage; he was after all a quarter Romulan; a product of a less than willing but brief union during a minor skirmish, at times, he found a greater affinity for the humans, yet at others; a sense of distance from the progeny of earth...
Thankfully his 'real family' had expunged, nay, obliterated, any record of his Romulan heritage from most, if not all, databases, and much to 'Cardinals'' relief; the physiological symptoms, were almost none existent, the only real indicator of not being a purebred human, was a slight elvish arch to his ears.
The Helmsman, Andorian, and Tholian, would prove adequate to tax, his abilities and be more than adequate as scapegoats, should anything go awry, in these profound plans of mice and of men.
"I must formerly introduce myself, that is 'Alexis' to the crew, but which poker face, must I employ, ace, heart, diamond or club?'"
After spending a few on-duty hours running diagnostics on the helm and its secondary systems, customizing hir control scheme, and playing solitaire on the computer for a few hours, Blackstar decided to take some downtime in one of the civilian lounges. Shi spotted hir ship's science officer, Teaos and his staff talking about something with Slipstream theory. While not a scientist, Blackstar could usually follow along when talking with one. Shi made a note to investigate what he knew about slipstream propulsion, the same type of propulsion shi was testing when an accident landed hir in this universe.
"Oh well," shi thought, "there's plenty of time to talk with him later." Shi was more cautious in this universe since there were even fewer herms here then back in hir original universe, and many had trouble getting past the fact shi had two genders. Blackstar was hoping that hir Starfleet crewmates were going to be more tolerant, but shi hadn't really had a chance to talk with any of them. Hir staff was really just a few relief crewman who manned the helm when shi was off duty. Although helm did do a lot of work with ops there was no need to talk to him yet.
Blackstar drank a glass of a Klingon drink called blood wine, which had a taste that hir more feral side enjoyed. After seeing no one to talk to other then the scientists Blackstar returned to hir quarters and fell asleep watching an old TV program called Stargate Infinity. Shi was looking forward to the beginning of hir ship's mission, and dreamed of the moves shi planned to show off at the first chance shi got.
With a metallic clank the docking clamps which had held the Daystrom in place for these past months while she was refitted released the ship. A gentle hum from the Impulse engines and thrusts at low power slowly edges the ship away from the docking bay. The Daystrom slowly passed the other ships inside the space docks massive hanger.
She revolved around on the spot to face the hanger doors and slowly increased her speed passing the Galaxy class Mainstream and Steamrunner class Sydney which were currently being serviced. As she passed the last of the ships is dock the hanger doors began opening.
Passing the doors the hull of the newly refurbished Akira class ship glistened blood red as the light of the near by red giant sun bathed the ship and station in its light. Just as the ship was several hundred meters away from the station and preparing to fully engage its impulse engines the station let go a volley of torpedoes which detonated in an arc around the ship before several of the stations phaser banks opened up and flashed around the ship in a bridge of honour. Just as the last beam died down the engines fully engaged and the Daystrom shot away into the dark.
All the senior staff were on duty on the bridge as they had all wanted to be on duty or the launching of their new ship.
The view screen had shown the send off the station had given them. The captain looked over his shoulder at Lieutenant Jon his tactical officer who was smirking at the view screen. He had a feeling his tactical officer may have bribed his counterpart on the station to give them that little send away. Not that he could really blame him, the Lieutenant had been over seeing the refitting of the Daystrom for several months.
"Helm take us to heading two four seven point three full impulse till we clear the stations range then bring us up to warp seven," Captain Fletcher said as he sat himself down in his command chair relishing the fact that he finally had a command of his own.
After watching the sending off display of the Daystrom, Jon realised that Lieutenant Arkenson, tactical officer of the starbase, didn't fire the promised quantum torpedoes after the initial arc. He pushed a couple of buttons on his console, and below the title of 'personal log', entered the words 'owed two quantums by Arkenson'. As he typed this he noticed the Captain give him a quick glance, and hoped that it wasn't of annoyance.
As Jon began remodulating the shields to find the most efficient way of creating a two point six quintillion joule bubble of sub-atomic forces and energies, he noticed one of the shield emitters was out of alignment by 0.02. He'd get one of his engineers onto it, he thought, as suddenly the view screen, showing the red giant, changed the image to stars; they flickered, began vibrating, and then shot out of the view screen's range. Warp speed, he thought, he had missed it.
So this was the bridge crew for the foreseeable future. Captain Fletcher, Commander Rochey, Science Officer Commander Teaos, Operations Officer Lieutenant Mikey, and Helmsman Lieutenant Blackstar. The rest of the senior staff were present, though, to witness the launching of the ship; Security Chief Lieutenant Deepcrush, Chief Engineer Lieutenant Seafort and Chief Medical Officer Doctor Sarin Taal. Alexis Harrison and Jack Ryson were also present, as were a number of ensigns and crewmen, who were relief officers and engineers working at secondary stations.
"Helm, how long until we reach our destination?" said Captain Fletcher, as he mused over his new crew and his new command.
"38 hours at current speed, sir," came the reply from Blackstar, who was pushing buttons on the console, scanning ahead for the quickest path to the Tholian border.
The captain pushed down a button on his console, and the audible sound of a ship wide announcement could be guessed. He stood up and looked around his bridge.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Captain Fletcher. This is, for the most part, a new crew on a new ship. I understand it will take us all a while to settle in and get use to the Daystrom. But I have no doubt that, even after this short while of us being together, everyone on this crew will do their utmost best, and that we will all grow together as good friends. This is a fine crew and a fine ship. I look forward to our future, and I have little doubt that it will be... interesting, at the very least. Captain Fletcher out."
The extra people on the bridge who had come to watch the relaunching of the refitted Akira exited via a turbolift, and took to their stations at various places around the ship.
The captain looked over to his first officer, "You know, I've not even seen my ready room yet," and Commander Rochey nodded in reply. If anyone else had said something similar, he would have been uninterested, but he had always a great respect for his commanding officer.
"You have the bridge, Commander," and with that he walked to his ready room and gave a quick glance back as the doors closed.
Jon thought this a good time to organise a meeting for his department, a briefing on their duties, and on the mission ahead. He looked over his left shoulder to Ensign Jones, the relief officer, who took his place at the tactical station, and Jon entered the turbo lift.
"Deck five, security offices." He had remembered that he still needed to meet the security chief. The turbolift came to a halt; he took a step out, turned to his left, and made his way down a corridor. He entered a room that had a large desk in the middle, with a huge display of the ship that could be changed to show various parts of the ship from different angles as required. This was where security could activate force fields, see where intruders are, send security teams, emergency unlock doors, and control all functions of the brigs and armouries. There were three doors in this room; one was to the corridor, one was a bulky door that had an access panel at the side that was securely locked (the armoury), which only the command division, tactical, and security, had access to, and another one that was the office of the Security chief.
As Jon observed this, Lieutenant Deepcrush himself walked through this door to greet Jon.
"Jonathan Hewer?" Jon nodded, "Deepcrush Culley, Chief of Security."
The two men shook hands, and Deepcrush ushered Jon into his office. They sat down and began picking up various scattered PADDs as they discussed their two departments, and at times going off on tangents - mainly about the Daystrom's capabilities (of which Jon had quite a knowledge), and of her previous missions.
