Chapter 2
"Fire photon torpedoes!"
A silent death was a terrible way to die. As the red balls of energy zoomed toward the glossy, green Warbird, Commander Hunter and his crew watched in agony. The bridge was on fire, and people were running about, repairing lost conduits, pulling injured to safety, and restoring crucial systems. If those torpedoes missed, it could mean the end of the U.S.S. Taledon and its crew.
But the torpedoes hit their mark, ripping through the Warbird's hull in silent terror. Of course, Hunter couldn't hear the Warbird being ripped apart, piece by piece, but he knew its crew could. The photon torpedoes, aimed at the Romulans' engines, tore through to the center, racing each other as they ran. Vivid flashes of red and yellow blazed across the wings, meeting in the middle and combining to form a huge explosion.
"Get us out of here!" Hunter yelled. As the Warbird dived from view, the Taledon hauled aft to put some distance between it and the rupturing Romulan vessel. Hunter returned his gaze to the viewscreen as the helmsman did an about turn to look at the final moments of the battle. Hunter and his crew stopped everything to gaze at the dying Warbird, a grand sight of the sleek, green vessel smoldering in reds and oranges as it finally burst into a cloud of dust and debris. Hunter shook his head at the loss of the Romulan crew and took a minute to honor those lives. Then, as he rose from the chair, he surveyed his own crew to see what damage the late Warbird had dealt.
The aft stations were smoldering in smoke; some of the port and starboard stations were still sparking, but they would be repaired in time. Medical officers were rushing to and fro, carrying or helping wounded and carrying med-kits and hypos. Some of the ensigns at the aft stations had grabbed fie extinguishers and were spraying the terminals and conduits along the starboard side of the bridge. The lieutenants manning the helm and ops stations were running races with their fingers over their consoles, trying to keep up with the damage and casualty reports coming in from all over the Galaxy-class starship.
Well, that wasn't completely true. The Taledon was a Galaxy-class starship, but it had a fighter bay attached to it and few other adjustments as well.
No doubt everyone down in the fighter bay was busy, too.
"Well done, Commander, well done."
Calmly, Hunter turned toward the tactical station behind the captain's to chair to find the captain himself standing there. Captain Eir Vidar, a Norseman, was a stocky fellow, much like the chief medical officer, Doctor Samuel O'Conner. Standing with his hands clasped behind his back and a wise smile on his face, Captain Vidar looked like Hunter wise grandpa that Hunter would run to every time he wanted a story told when he was a little kid.
Hunter smiled back and replied, "Not as well as you would have done, sir."
"Only because I have had more experience with these simulations." Vidar walked down the port ramp towards the center chair. "Computer,"- followed by a beep of computer acknowledgement-"end simulation." The computer beeped again and returned the viewscreen to the normal field of black with stars dashing along as the Taledon whipped by at warp six. The damaged conduits would remained severed and ruptured, as the computer was programmed to deliberately open conduits as if the ship really was being attacked so the crew could have plenty of practice at repairs. So, unfortunately, would the burns that the wounded crewmen received remain until healed.
The comm padd on the arm of the center chair whistled. Hunter glanced down to see from whom it was coming and grinned. Still grinning, he turned back to Vidar and said, "It's for you."
Rolling his eyes at his first officer, Vidar tilted his head towards the ceiling and answered the call, "Yes, Mister Balder?"
"How many times do we have to do these, these, simulations?!" Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Commander Balder nearly yelled through the comm link. Hunter winced a little and twisted his finger in his ear.
Giving his chief helmsman a scolding look, Vidar replied, "That will be the last one until we leave Starbase twenty-seven. Would that be alright?"
Knowing he had no choice anyway, Balder agreed and disconnected.
"Sir," interrupted the ensign at the tactical station, "we are approaching Starbase twenty-seven."
"On-screen."
As both Hunter and Vidar turned to gaze at the viewscreen, Starbase twenty-seven slowly shifted into view. At the helm, Lieutenant Decker maneuvered the Taledon into the range of an opening to the shuttle-and-ship bay. Next to him at ops, his best friend Lieutenant Taran silently worked swiftly at managing the incoming damage, casualty, and repair reports.
Although the Taledon is considered a Galaxy-class Starship, it did not look it. The bridge was a combination of the Constitution-class and the Galaxy class. The three chairs in the center were in front of and slightly below a curved tactical station, with ramps leading down both sides. Behind the tactical station were the aft stations, as was normal on a Galaxy-class Starship. The row of stations paused at the aft turbolifts and continued on around the bridge, eventually ramping down to connect by a small bridge- like walkway under the viewscreen. On each side, right under the last square of platform before the stations ramped down, was a doorway; one led to the Ready Room, the other to the Observation Lounge. Hidden in alcoves near the aft part of the side stations were two other turbolifts, one on each side. The helm and ops stations were switched when compared to Galaxy- class starships, with the helm terminal on the left of the captain's chair, and the ops on the right. Both of the helm and ops stations were what the fighter crews called triterminals-the station was not only in front of the crewman, but also extending to the right and left sides. Between the helm and ops stations was a third triterminal, used in emergencies if either or both of the helm and ops station went down, one person could retake control, but most of the time it was used by the captain to communicate silently by computer with the crew when their opponent was listening in.
"Sir," the ensign at the tactical station said again, "Admiral Foreman is hailing us." "Put it in the Ready Room." Vidar motioned for Hunter to follow him and walked to the doors leading to the Ready Room.
The Ready Room on regular starships consists of a small room with a desk, a small couch, and a few chairs, mainly used by the captain. Sometimes one has a fish tank and a replicator, but the Taledon was usually too busy for necessities like those to be used often. Still, the Ready Room was usually heard of as a small room for the captain to relax in while still close to the bridge.
On the Taledon, however, someone would think he had walked into the Observation Lounge by mistake. A long, black table was in the center of the room, with the normal viewscreen at both ends of the room and the long row of windows looking out to the stars. In the showcase on the inside walls of both the Ready Room and the Observation Lounge were trophies from fighter- flying competitions and models of other ships. The chairs around the table could almost be considered chairs; not nearly as comfortable and cozy as those of regular starships, but more like swivel stools with backs and arms, but no legs. Instead, the stools were attached to the table, easily folded into flat seats and stored in and removed from alcoves in the edge of the table. The reason for this was mainly because when the captain met with his senior staff, he did it in a crisis, so they didn't sit down when standing would do just fine.
Both men turned toward the viewscreen as they walked in; Vidar stood in his so-called "favorite" position, which was in the at ease position with his hands clasped behind his back; Hunter pulled out a stool, turned it around, unfolded the stool and half-sat down-one leg folded up on the stool, and one leg down just touching the floor. Admiral Foreman's round face appeared on the screen, smiling at the sight of his old Academy friend.
"Welcome to Starbase 27, Eir. Tired of roaming the stars, Diancecht?"
Vidar laughed at his friend's nickname for him. Vidar's first name, Eir, was also the name of the Norse god of medicine. Foreman, although completely of North American descent, was born in a former Welsh country, so he called Vidar, Diancecht, who was the Welsh god of healing and medicine.
"Not yet, Dylan," Vidar countered. Vidar called Foreman Dylan in return; Dylan being the Welsh god of the sea, as the admiral was in charge of many ships sailing the stars. "What is it now-a new Romulan ploy, or perhaps a Cardassian mishap?" Foreman frequently sent the Taledon out to the farthest reaches of the Federation border, knowing that its crew could handle themselves that far from help.
"Perhaps. The U.S.S. Ajax has spotted a few strange sub-space disturbances- those that are strangely close to the disturbances picked up by a cloaked vessel."
Hunter smiled behind Vidar, leaning further back. Vidar looked back and saw that his first officer was intrigued, then faced the viewscreen again and said, "We'll take it."
"Would've made you do it anyway. If it is a cloaked Romulan ship, then we'll need a ship that can handle a big confrontation."
"Alright, we'll leave immediately. Vidar out." The viewscreen blanked out, leaving Vidar and Hunter alone again.
Vidar turned to his first officer and before he could say a word, Hunter smiled and said, "Increase to warp nine?"
Vidar smiled at the swift thinking of his chief helmsman, remembering why he had picked Hunter as his first officer after Vidar's former captain, Captain Siero, had retired. Vidar nodded and walked out of the Ready Room, knowing Hunter was right behind him. Once on the bridge, Vidar ordered Lt. Decker to plot a course for the U.S.S. Ajax's position and to proceed at warp nine when ready.
As the Taledon turned and backed out of the bay, Vidar called up Chief Engineer Balder on the pad in the arm of his captain's chair to tell Balder that he was to ready the Taledon for a possible Romulan confrontation. Just as he finished transmitting the information through the computer to Main Engineering, Vidar felt the ship jump to warp, and as he leaned back in his chair and gazed at the viewscreen, he envisioned the adventure that lay ahead.
"If you ask me, sir, I think she has potential." Geordi LaForge stood in front of Captain Picard in his Ready Room.
Standing on LaForge's left was Commander Riker. Riker had a disbelieving look on his face and stood with his arms crossed over his chest. LaForge had excellent points to prove that she would be a good choice for the Enterprise, but he had one big doubt.
"I still think it's risky to let a Romulan run free on the Enterprise," Riker repeated, glancing at LaForge.
"I don't think I would let her run free, Number One." Picard leaned forward in his chair and looked at Lt. Cmdr. LaForge again. "Explain your reasoning."
Geordi gave a big sigh and began his report. "She graduated as valedictorian of her class and had been that way ever since her first year. She's gotten numerous awards and superior recommendations from her professors for her studies. She built not only one, but three starship replicas in the holodeck for her final in Ship Engineering Studies. She was so good she finished two years ahead of her original class."
"But that could just be her Vulcan heritage kicking in," Riker interjected.
"Agreed," said Picard. "Go on, Mr. LaForge."
"She is unusual in the respect of how most Vulcans act. She does show her emotions as freely as you or I do. But her professors say she uses them to her advantage." Riker gave Picard a 'Told you so' look. Geordi noticed it and continued. "That's not what I mean, Captain." Picard looked at LaForge as if he was waiting for Geordi's explanation.
"She uses her emotion to her side's advantage, and that side usually belonged to the Federation."
"Usually?" Riker unfolded his arms and took a step closer towards the desk. "What do you mean 'usually'?"
"Her professors noted that if you tried to gain information on the Romulan government or military, she wouldn't give it to you. Also, she defended any insults directed at Romulans." "Well, I guess she does have some faith," Riker replied sarcastically.
"The Academy counselor, a full Betazoid, said that Lt. Falan had no intentions or feeling to harm the Federation or Starfleet in any way. She said that the lieutenant had wanted to maybe change the Federation peoples' thoughts about the Romulan Empire, but she wouldn't try to help one side defeat the other."
"Thank you, Mr. LaForge. I'll think about your points when it comes to making a decision." LaForge didn't look too happy, but all he said was "thank you" and walked out the door.
Picard then turned to Riker and said, "You still think she can't be trusted?"
"Oh, I think she can be trusted," Riker replied, "But only that she can be trusted to turn us over to the Romulans." He moved to the spot where LaForge had been standing seconds ago and gave a look of defiance.
"Well, I'm agree with you--in the back of my mind," Picard added after seeing his first officer's hidden delight. "But I think that if we use the right amount of caution, she could be a good engineer aboard the Enterprise."
"So you're letting her on?"
"Yes, but I think that when she comes onboard, I'll have Counselor Troi there-just in case," Picard said as he got up and circumvented the desk.
"Agreed, and I'd also like to be there-just to make sure if I'm right or not," Riker replied with a more cheerful look on his face as he and Picard exited the Ready Room.
Alley sat on her bed in her quarters, looking around her room. Her clothes had been packed into the two little suitcases lying on her bed beside her. Her little personal things like her three-dimensional chess set, Vulcan logic puzzles, and even a few Terran books about medieval fantasies had been stowed away in another case, a little larger than the two that held her clothes. Both her bat'leth and her kh'tarah had been left out, since she would carry them.
She had saved a small shoulder bag for her padds, all 147 of them in various colors, which contained everything from her studies to personal interests to her logs and journals. But there were only seven silver padds, which were the very first padds she ever owned. These special padds contained her drawing and journals from Romulus. One of them was entirely devoted to the strange ship that she had seen orbiting the Romulan system eleven years ago when she had been eight Federation standard years old. It contained her drawings and notes of that ship, and when inserted into her personal tricorder, it displayed a small image of the ship.
Throughout her years at Starfleet Academy, she had run into all sorts of distrust and doubts about her faith to the Federation. But she had overcome them by looking back on that one night when she saw the starship. She had vowed from that night the she would not only find out what ship it was, but to serve on that ship, or to serve under one of its crew. Now she was about to board a ship as respected to the Federation as the mysterious Constellation-class ship had been to her: the U.S.S. Enterprise-D. Alley had applied to an engineering position on that ship, but she had never expected to be selected to go. Many people still had doubts about her loyalty, and no doubt that an additional one thousand people would do the same. Sometimes she just wanted to drag those people out to Romulus and hold them there for a year or so to see the real life of Romulans, not the lies that Starfleet tells them. Many people had only met a Romulan near the Neutral Zone, and many encounters had been battles. Alley's theory on judging a person's character was to see both sides of that person-in both good and bad situations. If you only see a person in bad situations such as battles, then you'll never see his good side, just his anger while he's in his defensive mode—especially when you see him as an enemy. Unfortunately, Alley seemed to be the only person with this theory, despite the Federation's claims to welcome anybody with open arms.
Sighing and bracing herself for the new journey to trustworthiness, Alley got up form her bed, slung her shoulder bag over her shoulder and her bat'leth onto her back, tucked her kh'tarah into her belt, and grabbed her two other bags. Then, taking one last look around at her quarters, she left for the transporter room.
Troi could feel that Riker was in a somewhat good mood as he walked into the Enterprise transport room. He smiled at her and asked if she was ready.
"As ready as I'll ever be," she replied.
"What do you think?"
Troi knew exactly what Riker was asking her about. He was asking if Troi believed that Lt. Falan would be good or not.
"I think you'll have to wait until she gets here for my opinion."
"Alright." Riker turned to the transporter operator and said, "Energize." A humanoid figure shimmered on the transporter pad, slowly dissolving into a Vulcanoid. Troi could see the surprise on Riker's face; clearly he didn't picture Lt. Falan to be as pretty as she looked. Then it was Troi's turn to be surprised, for as the figure became clearer, a bat'leth was seen on Lt. Falan's back. Clearly, Lt. Falan had more to be told than what was in her personal file.
Once the transporter sequence was complete, Lt. Falan looked around her and turned to her left to step off the transporter platform. She walked toward Troi and Riker and gave polite nods to each, following each nod with a "Commander," to Riker and a "Counselor," to Troi. Riker looked a bit surprised when Lt. Falan acknowledged Troi by her position; no doubt, she would have looked up the captain and first officer, but the counselor?
"I talked to her before she beamed over," Troi whispered to Riker.
"Right," Riker replied. Turning to Lt. Falan, he said, "Welcome aboard the Enterprise, Lieutenant. As you already know Counselor Troi, she will lead to your quarters."
"Thank you, sir. I hope my stay aboard the Enterprise will be a pleasant one."
Engineer indeed, thought Troi. The way she talks you would think she was a diplomat.
"This way, Lieutenant."
Troi led the young Vulcan from the transporter room down the corridor. After arriving at a turbolift, Troi was about to start up a conversation to see if Riker really was right about her or not, but the lieutenant got there first.
"I suppose you're going to ask me whether I intend to pass Starfleet information to the Romulan Empire or not, right?"
Surprised by the Vulcan's quick perception, Troi decided not to hide anything. "Let's just say that some people have a few doubts about you." As they stepped into the turbolift, Troi added, "How did you know?"
"Why let a Betazoid counselor lead me to my quarters when a simple security guard would do?"
Troi bowed her head a little and replied, "I see your point."
A few more moments of silence.
"You're very perceptive. You should be a diplomat."
Lt. Falan snorted. "Everybody says that. I guess it's just that I don't want to sit around and talk all the time."
"Some diplomats stand and talk."
Lt. Falan looked at Troi and laughed. It was a strange sight to Troi; to see a Vulcan laugh, but Troi couldn't help herself to stop from giggling a little, too.
The turbolift doors opened, and both walked out into the corridor. Troi then started to ask Lt. Falan about her hobbies and interests. It turned out that she had many different interests, from Romulan fencing to the Klingon martial arts to horseback riding. As long as Lt. Falan talked, she seemed more and more human and less and less Vulcan.
When they arrived at the Lieutenant's quarters, they walked in and Troi observed as Lt. Falan looked around.
"Wow, these are much bigger than the ones I had on Starbase 37." Alley set her bags on a nearby chair, and carefully placed her bat'leth on the table. "Thanks for taking me here," she said as she turned back to Troi.
Troi really didn't see the harm in her. The notes from the Academy counselors had been right; she really wasn't going to try to hurt anybody. The only thing that Lt. Falan was guilty of was being different than most Vulcans. Troi just hoped that Riker and the others would see the same thing and understand.
"Fire photon torpedoes!"
A silent death was a terrible way to die. As the red balls of energy zoomed toward the glossy, green Warbird, Commander Hunter and his crew watched in agony. The bridge was on fire, and people were running about, repairing lost conduits, pulling injured to safety, and restoring crucial systems. If those torpedoes missed, it could mean the end of the U.S.S. Taledon and its crew.
But the torpedoes hit their mark, ripping through the Warbird's hull in silent terror. Of course, Hunter couldn't hear the Warbird being ripped apart, piece by piece, but he knew its crew could. The photon torpedoes, aimed at the Romulans' engines, tore through to the center, racing each other as they ran. Vivid flashes of red and yellow blazed across the wings, meeting in the middle and combining to form a huge explosion.
"Get us out of here!" Hunter yelled. As the Warbird dived from view, the Taledon hauled aft to put some distance between it and the rupturing Romulan vessel. Hunter returned his gaze to the viewscreen as the helmsman did an about turn to look at the final moments of the battle. Hunter and his crew stopped everything to gaze at the dying Warbird, a grand sight of the sleek, green vessel smoldering in reds and oranges as it finally burst into a cloud of dust and debris. Hunter shook his head at the loss of the Romulan crew and took a minute to honor those lives. Then, as he rose from the chair, he surveyed his own crew to see what damage the late Warbird had dealt.
The aft stations were smoldering in smoke; some of the port and starboard stations were still sparking, but they would be repaired in time. Medical officers were rushing to and fro, carrying or helping wounded and carrying med-kits and hypos. Some of the ensigns at the aft stations had grabbed fie extinguishers and were spraying the terminals and conduits along the starboard side of the bridge. The lieutenants manning the helm and ops stations were running races with their fingers over their consoles, trying to keep up with the damage and casualty reports coming in from all over the Galaxy-class starship.
Well, that wasn't completely true. The Taledon was a Galaxy-class starship, but it had a fighter bay attached to it and few other adjustments as well.
No doubt everyone down in the fighter bay was busy, too.
"Well done, Commander, well done."
Calmly, Hunter turned toward the tactical station behind the captain's to chair to find the captain himself standing there. Captain Eir Vidar, a Norseman, was a stocky fellow, much like the chief medical officer, Doctor Samuel O'Conner. Standing with his hands clasped behind his back and a wise smile on his face, Captain Vidar looked like Hunter wise grandpa that Hunter would run to every time he wanted a story told when he was a little kid.
Hunter smiled back and replied, "Not as well as you would have done, sir."
"Only because I have had more experience with these simulations." Vidar walked down the port ramp towards the center chair. "Computer,"- followed by a beep of computer acknowledgement-"end simulation." The computer beeped again and returned the viewscreen to the normal field of black with stars dashing along as the Taledon whipped by at warp six. The damaged conduits would remained severed and ruptured, as the computer was programmed to deliberately open conduits as if the ship really was being attacked so the crew could have plenty of practice at repairs. So, unfortunately, would the burns that the wounded crewmen received remain until healed.
The comm padd on the arm of the center chair whistled. Hunter glanced down to see from whom it was coming and grinned. Still grinning, he turned back to Vidar and said, "It's for you."
Rolling his eyes at his first officer, Vidar tilted his head towards the ceiling and answered the call, "Yes, Mister Balder?"
"How many times do we have to do these, these, simulations?!" Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Commander Balder nearly yelled through the comm link. Hunter winced a little and twisted his finger in his ear.
Giving his chief helmsman a scolding look, Vidar replied, "That will be the last one until we leave Starbase twenty-seven. Would that be alright?"
Knowing he had no choice anyway, Balder agreed and disconnected.
"Sir," interrupted the ensign at the tactical station, "we are approaching Starbase twenty-seven."
"On-screen."
As both Hunter and Vidar turned to gaze at the viewscreen, Starbase twenty-seven slowly shifted into view. At the helm, Lieutenant Decker maneuvered the Taledon into the range of an opening to the shuttle-and-ship bay. Next to him at ops, his best friend Lieutenant Taran silently worked swiftly at managing the incoming damage, casualty, and repair reports.
Although the Taledon is considered a Galaxy-class Starship, it did not look it. The bridge was a combination of the Constitution-class and the Galaxy class. The three chairs in the center were in front of and slightly below a curved tactical station, with ramps leading down both sides. Behind the tactical station were the aft stations, as was normal on a Galaxy-class Starship. The row of stations paused at the aft turbolifts and continued on around the bridge, eventually ramping down to connect by a small bridge- like walkway under the viewscreen. On each side, right under the last square of platform before the stations ramped down, was a doorway; one led to the Ready Room, the other to the Observation Lounge. Hidden in alcoves near the aft part of the side stations were two other turbolifts, one on each side. The helm and ops stations were switched when compared to Galaxy- class starships, with the helm terminal on the left of the captain's chair, and the ops on the right. Both of the helm and ops stations were what the fighter crews called triterminals-the station was not only in front of the crewman, but also extending to the right and left sides. Between the helm and ops stations was a third triterminal, used in emergencies if either or both of the helm and ops station went down, one person could retake control, but most of the time it was used by the captain to communicate silently by computer with the crew when their opponent was listening in.
"Sir," the ensign at the tactical station said again, "Admiral Foreman is hailing us." "Put it in the Ready Room." Vidar motioned for Hunter to follow him and walked to the doors leading to the Ready Room.
The Ready Room on regular starships consists of a small room with a desk, a small couch, and a few chairs, mainly used by the captain. Sometimes one has a fish tank and a replicator, but the Taledon was usually too busy for necessities like those to be used often. Still, the Ready Room was usually heard of as a small room for the captain to relax in while still close to the bridge.
On the Taledon, however, someone would think he had walked into the Observation Lounge by mistake. A long, black table was in the center of the room, with the normal viewscreen at both ends of the room and the long row of windows looking out to the stars. In the showcase on the inside walls of both the Ready Room and the Observation Lounge were trophies from fighter- flying competitions and models of other ships. The chairs around the table could almost be considered chairs; not nearly as comfortable and cozy as those of regular starships, but more like swivel stools with backs and arms, but no legs. Instead, the stools were attached to the table, easily folded into flat seats and stored in and removed from alcoves in the edge of the table. The reason for this was mainly because when the captain met with his senior staff, he did it in a crisis, so they didn't sit down when standing would do just fine.
Both men turned toward the viewscreen as they walked in; Vidar stood in his so-called "favorite" position, which was in the at ease position with his hands clasped behind his back; Hunter pulled out a stool, turned it around, unfolded the stool and half-sat down-one leg folded up on the stool, and one leg down just touching the floor. Admiral Foreman's round face appeared on the screen, smiling at the sight of his old Academy friend.
"Welcome to Starbase 27, Eir. Tired of roaming the stars, Diancecht?"
Vidar laughed at his friend's nickname for him. Vidar's first name, Eir, was also the name of the Norse god of medicine. Foreman, although completely of North American descent, was born in a former Welsh country, so he called Vidar, Diancecht, who was the Welsh god of healing and medicine.
"Not yet, Dylan," Vidar countered. Vidar called Foreman Dylan in return; Dylan being the Welsh god of the sea, as the admiral was in charge of many ships sailing the stars. "What is it now-a new Romulan ploy, or perhaps a Cardassian mishap?" Foreman frequently sent the Taledon out to the farthest reaches of the Federation border, knowing that its crew could handle themselves that far from help.
"Perhaps. The U.S.S. Ajax has spotted a few strange sub-space disturbances- those that are strangely close to the disturbances picked up by a cloaked vessel."
Hunter smiled behind Vidar, leaning further back. Vidar looked back and saw that his first officer was intrigued, then faced the viewscreen again and said, "We'll take it."
"Would've made you do it anyway. If it is a cloaked Romulan ship, then we'll need a ship that can handle a big confrontation."
"Alright, we'll leave immediately. Vidar out." The viewscreen blanked out, leaving Vidar and Hunter alone again.
Vidar turned to his first officer and before he could say a word, Hunter smiled and said, "Increase to warp nine?"
Vidar smiled at the swift thinking of his chief helmsman, remembering why he had picked Hunter as his first officer after Vidar's former captain, Captain Siero, had retired. Vidar nodded and walked out of the Ready Room, knowing Hunter was right behind him. Once on the bridge, Vidar ordered Lt. Decker to plot a course for the U.S.S. Ajax's position and to proceed at warp nine when ready.
As the Taledon turned and backed out of the bay, Vidar called up Chief Engineer Balder on the pad in the arm of his captain's chair to tell Balder that he was to ready the Taledon for a possible Romulan confrontation. Just as he finished transmitting the information through the computer to Main Engineering, Vidar felt the ship jump to warp, and as he leaned back in his chair and gazed at the viewscreen, he envisioned the adventure that lay ahead.
"If you ask me, sir, I think she has potential." Geordi LaForge stood in front of Captain Picard in his Ready Room.
Standing on LaForge's left was Commander Riker. Riker had a disbelieving look on his face and stood with his arms crossed over his chest. LaForge had excellent points to prove that she would be a good choice for the Enterprise, but he had one big doubt.
"I still think it's risky to let a Romulan run free on the Enterprise," Riker repeated, glancing at LaForge.
"I don't think I would let her run free, Number One." Picard leaned forward in his chair and looked at Lt. Cmdr. LaForge again. "Explain your reasoning."
Geordi gave a big sigh and began his report. "She graduated as valedictorian of her class and had been that way ever since her first year. She's gotten numerous awards and superior recommendations from her professors for her studies. She built not only one, but three starship replicas in the holodeck for her final in Ship Engineering Studies. She was so good she finished two years ahead of her original class."
"But that could just be her Vulcan heritage kicking in," Riker interjected.
"Agreed," said Picard. "Go on, Mr. LaForge."
"She is unusual in the respect of how most Vulcans act. She does show her emotions as freely as you or I do. But her professors say she uses them to her advantage." Riker gave Picard a 'Told you so' look. Geordi noticed it and continued. "That's not what I mean, Captain." Picard looked at LaForge as if he was waiting for Geordi's explanation.
"She uses her emotion to her side's advantage, and that side usually belonged to the Federation."
"Usually?" Riker unfolded his arms and took a step closer towards the desk. "What do you mean 'usually'?"
"Her professors noted that if you tried to gain information on the Romulan government or military, she wouldn't give it to you. Also, she defended any insults directed at Romulans." "Well, I guess she does have some faith," Riker replied sarcastically.
"The Academy counselor, a full Betazoid, said that Lt. Falan had no intentions or feeling to harm the Federation or Starfleet in any way. She said that the lieutenant had wanted to maybe change the Federation peoples' thoughts about the Romulan Empire, but she wouldn't try to help one side defeat the other."
"Thank you, Mr. LaForge. I'll think about your points when it comes to making a decision." LaForge didn't look too happy, but all he said was "thank you" and walked out the door.
Picard then turned to Riker and said, "You still think she can't be trusted?"
"Oh, I think she can be trusted," Riker replied, "But only that she can be trusted to turn us over to the Romulans." He moved to the spot where LaForge had been standing seconds ago and gave a look of defiance.
"Well, I'm agree with you--in the back of my mind," Picard added after seeing his first officer's hidden delight. "But I think that if we use the right amount of caution, she could be a good engineer aboard the Enterprise."
"So you're letting her on?"
"Yes, but I think that when she comes onboard, I'll have Counselor Troi there-just in case," Picard said as he got up and circumvented the desk.
"Agreed, and I'd also like to be there-just to make sure if I'm right or not," Riker replied with a more cheerful look on his face as he and Picard exited the Ready Room.
Alley sat on her bed in her quarters, looking around her room. Her clothes had been packed into the two little suitcases lying on her bed beside her. Her little personal things like her three-dimensional chess set, Vulcan logic puzzles, and even a few Terran books about medieval fantasies had been stowed away in another case, a little larger than the two that held her clothes. Both her bat'leth and her kh'tarah had been left out, since she would carry them.
She had saved a small shoulder bag for her padds, all 147 of them in various colors, which contained everything from her studies to personal interests to her logs and journals. But there were only seven silver padds, which were the very first padds she ever owned. These special padds contained her drawing and journals from Romulus. One of them was entirely devoted to the strange ship that she had seen orbiting the Romulan system eleven years ago when she had been eight Federation standard years old. It contained her drawings and notes of that ship, and when inserted into her personal tricorder, it displayed a small image of the ship.
Throughout her years at Starfleet Academy, she had run into all sorts of distrust and doubts about her faith to the Federation. But she had overcome them by looking back on that one night when she saw the starship. She had vowed from that night the she would not only find out what ship it was, but to serve on that ship, or to serve under one of its crew. Now she was about to board a ship as respected to the Federation as the mysterious Constellation-class ship had been to her: the U.S.S. Enterprise-D. Alley had applied to an engineering position on that ship, but she had never expected to be selected to go. Many people still had doubts about her loyalty, and no doubt that an additional one thousand people would do the same. Sometimes she just wanted to drag those people out to Romulus and hold them there for a year or so to see the real life of Romulans, not the lies that Starfleet tells them. Many people had only met a Romulan near the Neutral Zone, and many encounters had been battles. Alley's theory on judging a person's character was to see both sides of that person-in both good and bad situations. If you only see a person in bad situations such as battles, then you'll never see his good side, just his anger while he's in his defensive mode—especially when you see him as an enemy. Unfortunately, Alley seemed to be the only person with this theory, despite the Federation's claims to welcome anybody with open arms.
Sighing and bracing herself for the new journey to trustworthiness, Alley got up form her bed, slung her shoulder bag over her shoulder and her bat'leth onto her back, tucked her kh'tarah into her belt, and grabbed her two other bags. Then, taking one last look around at her quarters, she left for the transporter room.
Troi could feel that Riker was in a somewhat good mood as he walked into the Enterprise transport room. He smiled at her and asked if she was ready.
"As ready as I'll ever be," she replied.
"What do you think?"
Troi knew exactly what Riker was asking her about. He was asking if Troi believed that Lt. Falan would be good or not.
"I think you'll have to wait until she gets here for my opinion."
"Alright." Riker turned to the transporter operator and said, "Energize." A humanoid figure shimmered on the transporter pad, slowly dissolving into a Vulcanoid. Troi could see the surprise on Riker's face; clearly he didn't picture Lt. Falan to be as pretty as she looked. Then it was Troi's turn to be surprised, for as the figure became clearer, a bat'leth was seen on Lt. Falan's back. Clearly, Lt. Falan had more to be told than what was in her personal file.
Once the transporter sequence was complete, Lt. Falan looked around her and turned to her left to step off the transporter platform. She walked toward Troi and Riker and gave polite nods to each, following each nod with a "Commander," to Riker and a "Counselor," to Troi. Riker looked a bit surprised when Lt. Falan acknowledged Troi by her position; no doubt, she would have looked up the captain and first officer, but the counselor?
"I talked to her before she beamed over," Troi whispered to Riker.
"Right," Riker replied. Turning to Lt. Falan, he said, "Welcome aboard the Enterprise, Lieutenant. As you already know Counselor Troi, she will lead to your quarters."
"Thank you, sir. I hope my stay aboard the Enterprise will be a pleasant one."
Engineer indeed, thought Troi. The way she talks you would think she was a diplomat.
"This way, Lieutenant."
Troi led the young Vulcan from the transporter room down the corridor. After arriving at a turbolift, Troi was about to start up a conversation to see if Riker really was right about her or not, but the lieutenant got there first.
"I suppose you're going to ask me whether I intend to pass Starfleet information to the Romulan Empire or not, right?"
Surprised by the Vulcan's quick perception, Troi decided not to hide anything. "Let's just say that some people have a few doubts about you." As they stepped into the turbolift, Troi added, "How did you know?"
"Why let a Betazoid counselor lead me to my quarters when a simple security guard would do?"
Troi bowed her head a little and replied, "I see your point."
A few more moments of silence.
"You're very perceptive. You should be a diplomat."
Lt. Falan snorted. "Everybody says that. I guess it's just that I don't want to sit around and talk all the time."
"Some diplomats stand and talk."
Lt. Falan looked at Troi and laughed. It was a strange sight to Troi; to see a Vulcan laugh, but Troi couldn't help herself to stop from giggling a little, too.
The turbolift doors opened, and both walked out into the corridor. Troi then started to ask Lt. Falan about her hobbies and interests. It turned out that she had many different interests, from Romulan fencing to the Klingon martial arts to horseback riding. As long as Lt. Falan talked, she seemed more and more human and less and less Vulcan.
When they arrived at the Lieutenant's quarters, they walked in and Troi observed as Lt. Falan looked around.
"Wow, these are much bigger than the ones I had on Starbase 37." Alley set her bags on a nearby chair, and carefully placed her bat'leth on the table. "Thanks for taking me here," she said as she turned back to Troi.
Troi really didn't see the harm in her. The notes from the Academy counselors had been right; she really wasn't going to try to hurt anybody. The only thing that Lt. Falan was guilty of was being different than most Vulcans. Troi just hoped that Riker and the others would see the same thing and understand.