USS Tirpitz
Sovereign Class Capital Cruiser NCC- 84937
Marine Country, OC-MCT Cabin
Unexplored Space near Imperial Romulan State / Romulan Republic Border
─•~:~•─
Ryhr shook Ginny by her shoulder and said, "Major? It's been three hours. Time to wake up,"
Ginny turned her shaven head and stared at her Andorian Leftenant.
After blinking a few times, she groaned, "Fuck off Ryhr, It's only been an hour."
Ryhr smirked, and pulled the covers off of Ginny's bed, just as she had done with her children on Andoria.
When they didn't want to wake up in time for school, she found that throwing their covers to the floor and smacking their bottoms were as effective as any tea.
She held off on the second part of the strategy, however.
Ginny could still charge her with striking a superior officer, or fraternization if she felt truly evil.
"My wife Pellel hates it when I do that with the kids too. But it usually works," said Ryhr as she sat down on her Major's couch.
Ginny groaned for a second time, reached to the floor, lazily pulled her MDU jacket over her body and sat up against the wall behind her.
"How many wives do you even have, LT?"
"Just the one. I'm only allowed three spouses. Taking on four is something you'd call, what's the word, adultery? Anyway, the extended family would stop inviting me for dinner if I did. My second husband Syhl is big about family dinners, I wouldn't want to make him upset."
Ginny shook her head and yawned, "How does that even work? Are you all like married to each other at the same time, or is it just like three one-to-one marriages, or is it some kind of group thing?"
Ryhr shrugged, "All three, I guess. I never really thought about it. Humans don't have group marriages?"
"We do, but that's something Fed-Sec puts you in jail for. It's called polygamy."
"Barbaric," scoffed Ryhr, "Sometimes I really wonder how you pink skins made it off your little planet before we did."
Ginny groaned for a third time, "Dammit LT, how should I know? I just shoot things, I'm not a sociologist. What do you want anyway?"
Ryhr help up a PADD, "As much as I don't want to, Dr. Selar ordered me to run a psych eval on you. So, I've got a standard PTSD disclosure form. Just answer a few questions for me and I'll happily be on my way to ponder how pink skins even stand erect."
"Fuck, I forgot about that. I guess I really was tired. Fine, let's get this over with," Ginny groaned, for the fourth time.
Her only solace was knowing that Dean was getting as grilled, if not worse, by Selar.
"Besides right now, have you been sleeping okay? Any nightmares, vivid dreams, things like that?" Ryhr asked, reading off her PADD.
"All good. Eight hours a day, as per regs."
It was a lie.
Between lessons with Star, blowing off steam with Dean, and trying to keep her bloodlust under control, Ginny slept for maybe an hour each night.
Stimulants helped, as did training, but she knew sooner, or later exhaustion might catch up to her.
"Good to hear. How about your appetite? Any changes at all? Eating more? Less? Still like the same foods?"
Ginny took a sip of a lukewarm replicated apple juice next to her bed before she replied, "Stomach's fine. I mean, the replicated shit is, well, shit. But when Cookie puts out that bacon-wrapped filet minion, I gobble up as much as I can."
It was another lie.
Ginny had absolutely no appetite these days, only wolfing down the occasional ration pack when she knew she absolutely had to have something in her stomach.
"That stuff's not bad, actually. Is your mood doing alright? Obviously, we're all a little stressed out between Star, the Romulans and everything else, but is there anything else bothering you that you'd like to share? Anything specific stays between us Major, and if it needs to go to the CMO, I'll keep any details out of the report."
Ginny thought for a long moment before she answered.
In truth, a great many things bothered her. Star made her scared, and happy.
Dean pissed her off and made her feel like a Coursing Dog on Spanish Fly.
Kala made her proud with his improvement in professionalism, and still drove her to murderous rage when she caught him trying to peek in at the women's showers last week.
And Scott Hathaway inspired her confidence, while at the same time making her question her own sanity, to say nothing of both the guilt and pleasure she felt knowing she had likely killed his wife, Clarice.
But she chose to lie yet again and replied, "No more than usual. You'll be the first to know if that changes."
Ryhr nodded, "Good to know, but just a forewarning, I'm a shitty counsellor."
"I pay you to shoot, not to cry."
"Andorians don't have tear ducts, Major," Ryhr said sarcastically, "Okay, halfway done. Now, I'm sorry about this next one, but regs are regs. Are you now, or planning to become, sexually active with any member of the crew or any FMC member, and do you believe that if said activities occur, they will influence your judgment or performance of your duties?"
In truth, blowing off steam with Dean was starting to become more than just blowing off steam.
As much as she didn't want to admit it, Ginny found herself worried about him in situations like the battle between gods she had seen just five hours ago.
Romance was another story, but he had somehow become more than just a toy to her.
But Ginny lied again, "What, you in the market for a second wife? I didn't know you had a thing for Humans."
Ryhr rolled her eyes, "Nice try, Ginny. I'll make sure that goes in my own report for General Castle, and I hope he docks you enough pay to send my whole family to Risa for a month."
"Don't worry LT, I respect the institution of marriage, even if it's a weird group thing like they do on Andoria. Besides, I think Yue or Cyron might try to fight you for that spot."
Ryhr smiled this time, "Just between us, Cyron's been all but hounding me for intel. She's got quite the crush on you, Major. Take her for dinner, maybe?"
Ginny sighed, "Cyron's adorable, but girls aren't my speed. I had to let Yue down gently a few weeks ago, I guess I'll have to do the same thing with Cyron too. And before you ask, there are no men on this ship that have my eye either, assuming I even had the time for that shit."
"I wasn't going to, but I'll make a note of that anyway. Poor Engy's gonna be heartbroken. That lets me skip the next question about pregnancy, so just one left."
"This is another mood question, but it's a little more serious, so I need you to be honest with me on this one. Again, any specifics stay between us. The only thing Selar will read is that you need time off for stress. Are you ready?"
"Go ahead."
Another lie.
She wasn't ready for any of this.
"Have you at any time during past operations noted an increase in aggressive or violent tendencies? Another way to put it, are you getting mad at your targets?"
What am I supposed to tell her? Ginny thought to herself, I get turned absolutely the fuck on when I have to kill someone. That the only other experience that comes even close to that is Dean going full savage on me?
But for the final time, she lied, "Same answer. No more than usual. I only have the professional level of hatred for my enemies, Leftenant."
"As you should, Major" Ryhr replied, standing up and turning off her PADD, "Alright, that's it. Short and to the point. For my part, you're cleared for active duty. If Selar wants anything else, she can kiss my blue ass, Ma'am."
"One more thing though, off the record," Ryhr said before turning for the door, "Be nice to Cyron, alright? I don't want to find out that she turned off the life support in your cabin because you punched her in the face for asking you out. Besides, I happen to agree with you, she's adorable. If I weren't married three times over already, I'd be taking her for dinner."
"Isn't that how you proposed to your two husbands and one wife? Andorians are angst-ridden people in my experience."
"The wife proposed to me, in an unusual turn of events. She took me over to the icefalls near Harbortown and made me sit while she climbed down to the valley and wrote 'will you marry me?' in the snow. How could anyone say no to that?" Ryhr replied, with Ginny almost daring to suggest she was blushing.
"I mean for one thing; I wouldn't want to literally freeze my ass off sitting in the snow."
"Barbarous fucking pink skins," Ryhr replied in disgust, "Sometimes, I really have to wonder about your kind."
Ginny smiled, "Dismissed, LT. Go work out your disgust in the holodeck or something."
Ryhr saluted, "Aye Major! I intend to, with immense pleasure."
Once the Andorian medic finally left, Ginny stopped for a moment and let herself shed some heavy tears into her pillow.
Lying was something she hated doing, and even though the reasons made sense to her mind, she had to wonder if her mind was utterly lost.
But the ship-wide comm's system stopped her from dwelling about her insanity, "Hathaway to Tatum. Are you awake yet? I need you on the bridge."
"I'm awake Captain. Give me a minute to choke down some coffee and I'll be right up." Ginny replied into her wrist-comm as she attached her duty belt to her pants.
"Make it two, Major. And mine's a triple-single, dark roast if you can swing it. Hathaway out."
Ginny checked the magazine on her assault phaser – fully charged with two extra mags – and made her way to her personal replicator. In an attempt to both hide her fatigue and stress from her crew, she decided to make coffee for the whole bridge team.
"Double-double, triple-single dark roast, triple-triple with vanilla, rakTAjino no salt, iced mocha number two blend, mint tea single leaf and black arabica hot."
A coffee for Dean, Scott Hathaway, Yue, Kath, Cyron, Dr. Selar and herself. An unwritten rule amongst Sharkies said "A Marine is only as strong as the blend of coffee served in the wardroom," and Ginny was happy to make the crew smile for a few minutes.
She still wasn't sure she'd ever smile again.
─•~:~•─
A few moments later, Ginny appeared on the bridge and served the tray of coffees by order of rank, just as a proper Fishie Yeoman would do.
The Old Man came first, followed by the XO, and down the ranks until Ginny reached the non-com Cyron and placed her iced mocha next to her engineering station.
Cyron took a loud sip that almost made Ginny laugh, "By the Prophets! Mocha! You're like, the nicest Sharkie ever, Ginny! No one ever brings me a mocha down in Engineering!"
"Don't worry about it Cyron, just enjoy the beverage," Ginny replied, deciding to let her enjoy her coffee before having the unpleasant conversation that Ryhr suggested she have.
Ginny sat down next to the Captain and asked, "How's your coffee, Sir? I did ask for a dark roast."
Scott took a sip and nodded, "Not bad, for a replicator anyway. You didn't need to go to all that trouble though Major. That's what Yeomen are for. Or in your case, Privates."
"Cranker duty is a punishment detail amongst us Sharkies, Sir. But I figured we could all use one right now. Dean, Yue, Kath? Your coffees taste alright?" Ginny asked to the bridge.
"This is great, thanks Ginny," Yue said, winking at Ginny.
"Not the worst I've had. Salt next time, please," Kath said at the science station, looking over some designs next to Star.
"Tim Horton's beats the piss out of a replicator any day, but this works in a pinch," Dean replied at his tactical station, trying to hide his pleasure at getting his partner to bring him coffee.
Selar took the guest seat beside Ginny and took a gentle sip of her tea. Vulcans were typically not coffee drinkers, but they appreciated caffeine like anyone else.
"Tea's okay doc? And Ryhr got her report to you?" Ginny asked.
Selar nodded, "I find both items of acceptable quality. My thanks, Major Tatum."
Ginny last looked to the half-cybernetic Helmsman, SC-2180 and sighed, "Sorry SC, I don't really know what your people drink, or I would have brought you something as well."
SC switched on his chest reactor and replied in his robotic voice, "You needn't worry yourself, Major. Cydberians indeed do not drink or eat. My cybernetic components need refuelling every three hundred years, and Starfleet replicators cannot produce the needed compounds. I appreciate your gesture, however."
Star turned and walked over to Ginny. In a moment that surprised her, Star clambered up in the chair and sat in Ginny's lap, as a dog or a human little girl might.
Her skin—if that really was skin—was ice cold through Ginny's pants, and the sensation woke her up as surely as any coffee would.
"Hello Ginny," Star said, with a smile but her same flat and non-emotional tone, "Did you sleep okay?"
"It was a decent nap," Ginny replied, noting that her coffee had gone cold just from the proximity contact, "Do you uh, do you like coffee Star? Should I have brought you one?"
Star shook her bald head, "I don't know what coffee is. And I don't need to eat or drink things, even in three-dimensional spaces. But I can try some, if you want me to."
Ginny handed her mug over and watched Star take a sip of the coffee.
She swallowed, and the coffee froze instantly in her mug.
"Like it?" Ginny asked.
Star shrugged, "It's a liquid, which enters what you would call a stomach. I don't have a stomach, but if I did, I would digest the liquid, distribute the nutrients to needed parts of my body, and assuming that my body was as poorly constructed as yours, I would expel the remainder of the liquid as a waste product in a few hours."
"I don't really have an opinion on it. But I see why three-dimensional things need liquids and nutrients. While in this form, I will take the time to eat and drink things so that you can feel more comfortable."
"Well, that's very thoughtful of you, Star. And what have you been up to while I was napping?" Ginny asked, putting her frozen mug down on the carpet.
"I showed Kath how to make a quantum harmonizer. It's going to take a while to make it here in Third-Dimensional Space. You really are much slower at making things. Cyron also asked me how to teach your Dilithium crystals to re-crystallize while in active use in your warp core. They just needed to hear the right song, and they were happy to keep providing power for Tirpitz."
"And Scott, who is the commanding officer, asked me more questions about the Q. I explained how the 73rd dimension uses quadricyclic entropy in place of what you call light, and how heterogeneous protozons fluctuate between the hextical and trithextical inversions, but I'm not sure he understood it all," Star replied, in her usual way, as though her universal knowledge was somehow common to everything.
"I uh, what?" Ginny stammered.
Scott in turn smirked, "Took the words right out of my mouth, Major. Something to go on the do later list."
SC spoke up next, "Approaching the target coordinates, Captain. Preparing to drop out of warp."
The Lonely Queen of the North exited warp speed and found herself floating in darkness once more.
Occasionally, Ginny forgot just how large space really was.
The distance between planets and stars was massive, and even travelling at warp speed still meant that the ship had to physically cross the distance between stars and planets.
And for the most part, there was never anything in between those massive voids.
"Sensors, Kath. Is our mystery ship here?" Scott asked from his seat.
The Klingon science officer looked at her console and replied, "I am detecting another vessel, Sir. Bearing 3-2-9 off our starboard bow, at a distance of two million kilometres. It appears to be adrift, possibly dead in the water."
Scott looked over at the weapons console to see if Bowers had anything to add to the report.
"Confirmed. Not detecting any active weapons or shields. She's adrift, Skipper," said Dean.
"What do you make of her?" the Captain asked.
"Coming up now on my screens. It's a Federation Starship alright. Power signatures and hull silhouettes all match up to records. I need a couple more seconds to pull up a registry entry," Dean added.
"On screen," Hathaway ordered.
Kath hit a switch, and seconds later the ship came into view.
Ginny recognized the type of ship instantly, and for just a moment, she was back on Essex from three years ago.
Yue recognized it too, and spoke up next, "That's an old Excelsior, isn't it? How'd she get way the hell out here?"
"Refit Excelsior, actually," Cyron corrected, "See how the deflector kinda bulges out on the secondary hull? Plus, the fins on her nacelles above the Bussard collectors? Super cool. I love the mid-way tech ships like that."
"That's cute Cyron, but you didn't answer my question," Yue replied, half sarcastic and half annoyed.
Cyron shrugged, "I dunno. I'm just an Engy, I don't actually fly ships."
Hathaway ignored her and walked over to the weapons console, "I'm still waiting on that registry entry, LC."
Dean nodded his bald head, "Coming in now. And..."
"And what?" Scott asked
"Kath, you're seeing the same thing, right? I'm not having a stroke or something?" Dean asked the science station.
"I am, Commander Bowers. Unless I'm having a stroke as well," she said.
"One of you start talking or I'll have the Major give you an assault phaser-induced stroke," Scott threatened.
"I got it," Dean said before staring back at his console, "NCC-1701-B. USS Enterprise."
"Enterprise?!" Ginny asked in confusion, "That doesn't look like any picture I've seen of the Grey Ghost."
Yue smirked in response, "That's because it's not the Grey Ghost. I think her name is actually Black Sheep. Right Scott?"
Scott nodded, and resumed his command seat, "Right on XO. Black Sheep B, on account of her shitty luck."
"Another part of History class at the Academy I failed?" Ginny asked in turn.
Scott nodded again, "That's right, Major. Enterprise-B was the third Starship Enterprise built by the Federation and the sixth overall in the Enterprise series. She came out of McKinley Space Yards in 2293, about six months after the Khitomer Accords were signed."
"And she was also the first starship Enterprise that wasn't under the command of James Kirk in twenty years. Instead, Captain John Harriman Jr got the honours, the son of Blackjack John, the Admiral who beat Kang in the first Battle of Arkanis."
He continued his story, "It was already a cursed project, in my opinion. They rushed Black Sheep out of the yards because Command wanted Lucky A scrapped to punish Kirk for violating orders during the signing of the Accords. Blackjack was CNC at the time, and even though it was never proven in court, a lot of people, including Kirk, accused him of pushing his son into the big chair."
"Black Sheep set out six months ahead of schedule on a milk run for FNN and ran smack into what we now call the Nexus Wave. No torpedoes, no tractor beam, no medical staff on board, a skeleton crew who hadn't even had a proper shakedown together yet, and Kirk taking a guest ride with a couple of his officers and hordes of reporters crowding the bridge."
"That doesn't sound good," Ginny commented.
"It gets worse. Black Sheep was trying to rescue a pair of El-Aurian Transport Boats that got caught in the wave. They only managed to save one out of the pair, and Kirk ended up getting killed in the process. When Black Sheep made it back to the barn, Harriman Jr got a general court martial for Dereliction and Negligence, and Command came that close to scrapping the whole Enterprise series," Scott said with a sigh.
"In the end, Ambassador Spock testified on his behalf, and Black Sheep was allowed to continue flying the flag. But Harriman Jr got a Cat-5 discharge and never went back to space again, while Blackjack was voluntold into early retirement."
"That still doesn't explain how she ended up here, Scott. There's no way a 23rd Century Excelsior refit has the legs to get out this far into Beta Quadrant," Yue added to the story.
Scott sighed deeply before he continued, "What I'm about to say next is, technically, part of a sealed command orders package that I'm not actually supposed to discuss with my crew. But once again, I won't keep any secrets from you all, and if the Admiralty doesn't like that, they can ram my pension up their asses."
"Black Sheep continued under the care of Captain Demora Sulu, Hikaru's daughter if anyone's curious about the last name. She was tasked with testing a new type of warp intermix chamber that eventually became part of the system we're using today. Black Sheep was supposed to be able to hit warp 9.9 and start charting the parts of Beta Quadrant that we are now charting in turn," said Scott.
"Did it work?" Ginny asked.
Scott nodded, "It did. She managed to get from Earth to Sigma Iota II just a few hours short of our time. But once Black Sheep started on her journey, Starfleet Command lost all contact with her. The last reported message from her indicated that the crew had been overcome by some sort of unspecified affliction, but the message was too garbled to make sense of."
"Black Sheep was written off as lost in deep space. But Starfleet suspected she was still out here, somewhere, and my sealed orders package says, that pending a favourable opportunity and minimal risk to our own mission, we're to ascertain what became of her and report back to the Admiralty."
"It makes sense. But why is that a sealed order?" Yue asked.
"I didn't ask," Scott replied before looking at the girl in Ginny's lap, "Star, have you ever seen this ship before?"
Star looked at the view-screen for a moment, but shook her head, "No, I have not seen that ship before, and it never came to my home. It is much older than Tirpitz. Her weapons array is not as advanced as yours, and her scientific systems appear to be an earlier model than your own. Also, her Dilithium crystals are not singing in the same key as yours. Would you like me to sing to them as well?"
Scott shook his own head, "Not right now Star, but maybe after," He then rose and went to Kath's science station, "Any chance of life signs or power?"
Kath entered several commands into her console and replied, "She appears to be operating on the very last of her reserve batteries. I am detecting minimal life support, but no indications of life aboard."
"After a hundred years? I'd be surprised if anything is alive," Yue added.
Scott decided to indulge his curiosity, "Remember Monty Scott and the Jenolan? Stranger things have happened. Open hailing frequencies, let's test that theory."
"Channel open Skipper, ready on your go," Dean replied from the weapons console.
"Federation Starship Enterprise, this is the Federation Starship Tirpitz, Captain Scott Hathaway in command. Please acknowledge my signal."
After a few moments, Dean spoke up, "No response."
"Repeat, this is Tirpitz calling Enterprise, are you receiving me?" Scott asked the view-screen.
"The auto-acknowledge signal from her main computer is transmitting, but I'm not detecting anything else on subspace or QC, Captain," Kath reported.
Scott sighed, "Well, it was worth a try anyway. Is she safe for transport, Kath?"
Kath nodded her ridged head, "Yes Sir. No hull breaches and her transporters are online. If I may make a recommendation, there is only enough oxygen for twelve hours of consumption by a standard boarding party. We should prioritize restoring main power."
Scott sat back in his chair and started issuing orders, "Agreed. XO, you'll take the Major and a team of hers with Cyron and see what you can do about salvaging Black Sheep. If she can make it home under her own power, great."
"If not, get a download of her main computer core, and anything else we can bring back home. Try to get a copy of the Captain's Log while you're at it, I'd like to see what Demora found out here."
Yue rose from her seat, while Ginny gently placed Star back on the floor and rose in turn.
Before either woman could leave the bridge, however, Dean stopped them, "Skipper, is this really something we need to bother the Marines with? There's no obvious tactical threat here. My guys can handle a salvage run."
"Right, about as well as you handled our war games in June?" Ginny said, half teasing and half challenging.
Scott missed the subtext.
"Holy fucking Christ," he said as he rose from his chair in frustration.
"I have had it up to my asshole with this little pissing match that the two of you have every God damned time there's an away mission to get done," he said, pointing next to the door of his ready room, "There's my office. I'll lock the door for about half an hour, and the two of you can finally get it out of your systems like the old married couple you seem to want to act like. And I should know, I was married for six years."
Ginny and Dean both turned away from the Captain's gaze, not daring to speak further.
"Fine. Then here's what's going to happen," Scott said, pointing at them, "Both of you go. Ginny will take care of Cyron in Engineering, while Dean looks after Yue on the bridge. And once you two get back, you'll both start acting like grown-ups and learn to get along."
"Otherwise, I swear to God, or The Prophets, or my dead wife's soul, or even Star here, or to whatever higher authority that you want to believe in, I'll lock the two of you in a room with a bottle of real scotch and a pair of phasers, and let nature take its course. And after an hour, when I open the door again, one or both of you will be dead, you'll finally make love and get it out of your system already, or you'll both be too drunk to care either way."
He walked closer to both Ginny and Dean and continued, "But you will, in ANY of the above scenarios, finally grow up and work as a team. Is that, FUCKING, clear, Major Guinevere Tatum and Lieutenant-Commander Dean Bowers?"
"Aye Sir!" Dean and Ginny said at the same time.
Scott stared both of them down, and smiled after an uncomfortable pause, "Synchronized Ayes. You're already off to a good start. On your way."
As the group left the bridge, Scott sank into his chair and sighed.
Star tapped him on the shoulder, "Scott, Can I ask you a question now?"
He sighed again before replying, "Sure thing. What's on your mind, Star?"
"I've noticed that you only use the word fuck when you are very upset or excited. Which emotion are you experiencing right now?" Star asked innocently.
Scott laughed, "Both, actually. How's that?"
Star smiled, "Very educational. I will make note of this concept when I visit other dimensions. The 82nd dimension could use more emotional attachment concepts."
Selar raised her eyebrow, "Just how many dimensions are there?"
Star turned to the Vulcan doctor, "1 765 254 987 099".
"My fuck," was the only thing Scott could say in reply.
