[A/N: Over the past few months, I've been screwing around with this idea, and I'm far enough ahead where I think I can put this story out there and see what people think. This idea might be a little cheesy, and I'm not sure how well the reactions will be (you'll see what I mean in the chapters to come). But for now, here is the introductory chapter.]
STAR TREK: DIMENSIONS
USS Orion (NCC-2510-C), Intrepid-class Long-Range Science Vessel
BRIDGE CREW
Captain Tyson Garrett, Human Male (Ship's Captain)
Commander Julie Palmer, Human Female (First Officer)
Lt. Commander Richard Paxton, Human Male (Chief Engineer)
Doctor Zalya Braun, Betazoid Female (Chief Medical Officer)
Lieutenant Miles Chase, Human Male (Helmsman)
Lieutenant Mendon, Benzite Male (Science Officer)
Lieutenant Varik, Vulcan Male (Security/Tactical Officer)
Ensign Tanya Romanov, Human Female (Operations Officer)
1
[Captain's Log, Stardate 48346.1
It has been over a month since the disappearance of Voyager, and to date, all our efforts to find any clue as to their whereabouts have been unsuccessful.
We are just about to disembark from Deep Space Nine, and are preparing to venture to Bolarus IX for one more sweep.
Many of my crew have friends aboard Voyager, and morale is low. It is times like this that I wish I could consult my mother for guidance.]
Captain Garrett felt around his chest for the medallion he wore underneath his tunic. He felt the cool metal against his breastbone and let out a small sigh.
The trinket was comprised of hull alloys from Enterprise-C, the ship his mother Rachel had died commanding. It was all he had left of her. He had been a second-year Cadet at the Academy when Enterprise was destroyed defending a Klingon outpost, Narendra III.
At least, that was the official story, he had always told himself. He was much older now, and his chestnut hair was beginning to show small streaks of gray around his temples. Nearing fifty years old, and with Starfleet brass constantly dangling an Admiral's position in front of him only to rip it away like a cruel master toying with their dog, he was beginning to wonder if he'd be damned to spend the rest of his career in a captain's chair.
One more mission. It's always one more mission. He massaged his brow as he shifted in his chair.
"Captain, we're being hailed by Deep Space Nine. Captain Sisko would like to say a few words." Ensign Romanov prepared to forward the incoming transmission.
Garrett stood and straightened out his tunic, tugging briefly at the collar of the turtleneck beneath. "On screen."
Captain Benjamin Sisko appeared on the viewscreen, his facial expression clearly showed signs of exhaustion. It looked as though he had been going without sleep for some time.
"Captain Garrett, sorry I couldn't have met with you in person during your time here. I've been busy coordinating ships in this sector in the search efforts for Voyager. As you are probably aware… it hasn't been a very fruitful endeavor."
"Undoubtedly." Garrett responded. "In any event, we are about to disengage from spacedock and set course for the Bolian Sector. What would like to discuss?"
Sisko straightened in his seat. "I merely wanted to make it a point to wish you good luck, as I have every ship leaving the station for search and rescue missions. Captain Janeway is a dear friend of mine, and I'd like nothing more than to see her and her crew home safe."
"Acknowledged, Captain. Anything else?"
"Just… if you do find them, tell Kathryn 'hello' for me. Good luck, Orion. Sisko out." The viewscreen went black.
"Well then, I guess that's our cue to leave. Mr. Chase, take us out, one-third impulse."
"One-third impulse, aye sir." Lt. Miles Chase keyed in the commands, and the faint hum of the impulse engines filled the bridge. The ship's computer auto-corrected for drift as the Orion cleared the docking bay and put distance between ship and station.
"Captain, we're clear of the station. Course is laid in for Bolarus IX."
Garrett keyed his communicator. "Engineering, how's it look down there? Give me some good news, Rick."
"Warp power is online and waiting, Captain. Dilithium reserves nominal. Finally got that power draw problem worked out."
"Wonderful. Mr. Chase, let's get going. Warp Six."
Miles keyed in the commands. "Course and speed set."
"Engage." Garrett chuckled to himself. He thought that he sounded more and more like Jean-Luc Picard every time he said that word.
"I'll be in my ready room. Inform me of any problems. Ms. Palmer, you have the bridge."
"Yes, Captain." Commander Palmer rose with the Captain, and proceeded to inspect the bridge stations. Garrett passed through the automatic doors into his private ready room, and walked over to the replicator near his desk.
"Coffee. Hot. Cream, two sugars. Wait… Computer, belay that last part. Cream, no sugar." The replicator hummed to life, and a steaming cup of coffee appeared in the slot. Dr. Braun had ordered him to adjust his diet to eliminate sugar and sweets, and he wasn't in the mood for a lecture, should she have walked in while he was ordering. He picked up the cup, and sat down on the couch running along the window.
The empty black sky to his back, he picked up the book sitting on the coffee table in front of him. It was an ancient copy of H.G. Wells' classic novel The War of the Worlds, a gift from his mother after his acceptance into Starfleet academy. His mother had always encouraged his passion for classic Earth literature, but real books were hard to come by. And while he greatly enjoyed holo-novels, there was something special about ink and paper that kept him yearning to imagine the stories for himself.
"It will keep you out of trouble if your head is buried in a book," she always told him. He opened the book, inhaling the musty smell of the yellowed pages. It was a scent he hoped never to forget. Reaching through the collar of his uniform, he pulled the medallion out and turned it over in his hands. Removing the chain from around his neck, he set the coin on the table.
"Thanks, mom." He said, raising the book slightly. He sipped his coffee, and began reading.