"The Tides of Time and War"
by Michael D. Garcia
Chapter One
NCC-31860 (PCU Majestic)
Docked in Construction Bay Eleven, Beta Antares Shipyards.
Stardate 23450.04
Main Engineering
The first time she saw Commander Nikolai Romanov, she thought he was another civilian technician sent over from the yardmaster's office. He wore a brown leather jacket over a cream-color shirt and black slacks with uniform boots, and seemed to look about the interior of the engineering compartment with a sense of bewilderment on his face. He carried a padd in his right hand, and a duffel bag slung over his left shoulder. Civilians did not often come down into the engineering level without their engineering suits on, but this one seemed intent on giving her a little grief. Under no circumstance would she let this person work in her area without wearing the bare minimum of protective gear.
"Pardon me," she said, after approaching him. "May I help you?"
"Yes, you can," he replied in a deep baritone with a barely noticeable Russian accent. "I'm looking for Veronica Yates." She assumed that he got the name from someone like the yardmaster, though he spoke with a polite, yet authoritative tone that implied he was not to be easily dismissed.
Like the others in the area, she wore the same suit, but hers held the rank insignia of a lieutenant in Starfleet on the arm, against a gold band to show her division as engineering. "That's me, sir," she said, surprising herself. "How can I help you?"
"My name is Nikolai Romanov," he said, with an outstretched hand toward her.
Yates' surprise written on her face, she quickly recovered and gave the incoming commanding officer a wide smile. Shaking his hand, she replied, "Welcome aboard, sir. It's a real pleasure to meet you. I'm sorry we couldn't offer you a proper welcome." She released his hand and gestured for him to follow her into an office.
Romanov chuckled. "No need to apologize, Lieutenant." He entered into the small office, and noticed that it was also being used for storage of clerical items. "According to my orders, I'm to relieve you of command after my arrival."
"Yes, sir," Yates replied. "Would you like to relieve me, now?"
He pointed toward his duffel bag. "I'd like to stow my gear in the captain's stateroom, first. Freshen up a little and put on my uniform. It was a rather long trip, and I don't think I'm in the proper frame of mind to assume command just yet."
"I understand, sir." Yates asked, "Where did you come out from?"
"Starbase 24."
Her eyes widened. Long trip, indeed. Starbase 24 was the sector command headquarters for the Khitomer sector on the Klingon Border. Though the sector was named for a planet beyond the border of the Empire, nearly all space-faring civilizations referred to it as such.
"May I show you to your stateroom, sir?" she offered in as helpful a tone as she could muster.
He raised a hand and shook his head. "No, that's not necessary. I didn't mean to interrupt your work down here," Romanov replied, showing her his palms. "I only wished to make you aware of my presence on board. I can find it myself."
"It wouldn't be any trouble, sir," Yates said, trying to reassure him.
Romanov smiled at her. "Well, I appreciate that. But I'll find it. No worries."
"Of course, sir."
He moved to leave, but stopped and turned back to her. "When you're finished down here, I would like to sit down and talk about your progress. Unless your task list is pretty long tonight?"
Yates shook her head, "No, sir. I can do that. No problem."
"Good," he replied. "If you would then make sure I have the proper computer access, so I can get into my room, I would appreciate it. And I'll see you tonight." He left the office.
Before he moved out of earshot, she assured him he would have computer access as soon as possible.
Moving through the decks of the ship, the captain's stateroom was only three decks up and as far forward as one could go within the saucer section. Romanov looked around as he walked the corridors, noticing that many of the access panel covers were removed for easy access. Though he had seen a ship in such a state before, he had grown accustomed to seeing a ship while it was on active duty, not in the process of being constructed.
Following six years in command of the Oberth-class patrol frigate USS Richey, then Lieutenant Commander Nikolai Romanov was relieved of his command and reassigned as a temporary officer within the pool at Starbase 24. Rear Admiral Wilson Babar, the sector commander, placed Nikolai on one weeks' administrative leave just after promoting him to the rank of Commander. Romanov made use of the starbase's recreational facilities, and even had time for a few romantic liaisons before the week ended.
Admiral Babar and his senior aide, the Vulcan Captain Sutak, made it clear his career would return to the fast track. He had been given orders to proceed to the Antares Shipyards and assume command of the pre-commisioned unit (PCU) Majestic, currently finishing construction in Bay Eleven. The admiral and the captain both indicated they wished to reward him for serving with the border patrol so well. Still, the tone of the admiral gave Nikolai reason to believe there was more to this promotion.
The Klingons were getting restless, the rumors he heard on Starbase 24 confirmed by his own patrolling experience. Guardian Six, the codename for the commander-in-chief of the Border Patrol, had placed a majority of the outposts on the border on elevated alert, but that occurred nearly once or twice a month without any visible cause. Coupled with the latest scuttlebutt, the most recent order to increase battle readiness only served to fuel such conversations.
Most recently, there were a few incidents along the border near Starbase 24, and Guardian Six had placed the entire sector at yellow alert. While in command of the Richey, Nikolai had to divert his ship toward the border to assist when others reported B'rel-class ships straying outside Imperial territory. During his time on patrol, he and his crew from time to time made contact with Klingon ships, but they had been lucky to avoid conflict nearly every time. Of course, he had exchanged fire on two occasions, but they were only warning shots.
Arriving at the door to the captain's stateroom, he accessed the panel and smiled as the door recognized his identity. "She works fast," he commented to himself.
Stepping inside, he found the control panel to activate the interior illumination, and immediately after that almost dropped his duffel on the deck in surprise as he took a look at his new home. The size of the stateroom's living area was larger than his whole cabin back on the Richey. Curved viewports angled from the forward side to the top of the deck, and provided his living room and desk with an expanded view of the space forward of the ship. There was a desk and computer access terminal, along with a chair still wrapped in plastic behind it. Couches, tables and chairs appeared on the other side of the room, all still wrapped and waiting to be used by the very first occupant of the stateroom.
He pulled the plastic from the chair and sat down on it, activating the computer terminal. After a brief identity check, he had full access to the ship's computer. Several delayed visual messages and a few text messages were waiting for him, including one from his former executive officer, now captain of the Richey.
That message appeared to be filled with information about the ship, as though he were still in command. Selecting her executive officer appeared to be a perplexing decision, given the number of qualified officers. He agreed with her final decision and praised her on it, stating he would have done the same. However, the latter part of the message only served to trouble him.
The Richey had been ordered to assist the starship USS Fearless in investigating the loss of contact with the Enterprise. He had met Captain Rachel Garrett and some of the members of her senior staff at starbase functions and briefings in the past, and she carried a sterling reputation within Starfleet. Word was she was to be selected for rear admiral within a year. His memories of her were those of a woman of principle. He admired her intelligence and poise, and the fact that she acted like a natural leader. The legacy of the name Enterprise was in good hands with Captain Garrett. The possibility of her death struck him a little harder than he thought it would.
According to the missive, his former XO appeared worried about Klingon reaction to the disappearance of the Federation starship that rushed off to respond to a distress call from a Klingon outpost. The current information led her to believe that the Klingons might be talking about the cowardice of the Federation in leaving the Klingon outpost undefended.
He could see the reason in her speculation, but he reserved judgment.
After finishing her message, he moved on to watch and listen to various mission reports and briefings forwarded to him by Captain Sutak. They all continued to point in the direction of a major conflict on the horizon with the Klingons.
Trying to keep himself from getting too depressed about the overall situation, he decided to read through his personal messages.
Lieutenant Agatha Jacobs stood at attention within the office of her commanding officer. She had been stationed as the operations officer aboard the Excelsior-class USS Lexington for nearly four years, and loved her job. She was unique among the senior officers. Despite her position, she was still popular with the rank and file. It was not uncommon to see her in a friendly exchange with a petty officer or laughing with the ship's executive officer.
On that morning, laughter and joviality had no place within the vicinity of the captain and ship's business. Standing to the right side of the captain, and looking over his shoulder at the computer screen obscured from Agatha's own view, was the ship's executive officer. As she stood before them, they appeared to be preoccupied with the screen and less than interested in her presence.
"One moment, Mister Jacobs, and we'll be right with you," said the captain, still looking at the screen and pointing something out to the exec. After the exec nodded his understanding, the captain smiled and looked up and at Agatha. "We wanted to let you know that we've found your work to be exemplary, Lieutenant."
"First rate, Aggie," added the executive officer, Lieutenant Commander Franklin Reynolds. He had been aboard the Lexington as long as she had. In that time, they came to respect one another for their ability and skill, and had become good friends.
The compliments were not lost on her, and trying not to blush, she managed to nod and smile at the two senior officers. "I appreciate that, sirs. Thank you very much."
"However, and this is the truly difficult part," said the captain, "but it's time for you to move onwards and upwards." He reached into the desk and pulled from it a white box. "Since Franklin is unable to part with his at this time, I decided it would be appropriate to give you my old rank insignia. Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander Jacobs."
"Congratulations, Aggie," said Reynolds with a large smile on his face. "Your name was third on the selection list."
"Thank you, again, sirs. Captain, I don't know quite what to say," replied Aggie, as the captain opened the box.
The captain stood from his chair and softly spoke, "Commander, if you wouldn't mind holding this for me?" He removed the pins from the box, and handed it to his executive officer.
Reynolds nodded to the captain. "Of course, sir."
Removing the old lieutenant's insignia from the gold officer's band over her right shoulder, the captain said, "By order of Starfleet, you are hereby promoted to the rank of lieutenant commander, effective immediately."
Once the impromptu ceremony was complete, the captain stepped back and took a look at her. "We're very proud of you, Lieutenant Commander." He smiled and added, "And we know you'll continue to do us proud at your next assignment."
This was unusual. She had not put in a transfer request or knew about any sort of assignment change. "Sir?" she said in a questioning tone.
Commander Reynolds tried to explain. "Your last fitness report to Starfleet Command had a couple of endorsements, and since you were selected for promotion and appeared to be the next best thing, they decided to put your talents to use elsewhere."
"But, I would prefer to remain here, sir," protested Jacobs.
The captain held his smile. "I appreciate your loyalty, but there's no way we could let you put your career on hold. Besides, the needs of the service and all that."
"Aye, sir," was all she could say in reply. "Which ship will be I reporting to?"
"New construction. Hasn't even been commissioned, yet," replied Reynolds. "PCU Majestic, Commander Nikolai Romanov, commanding."
"Light cruiser?" she asked. It was the only way a commander would be placed in permanent command of a ship by Starfleet. Vessels of lesser size and armament were often given to those of lower rank, as ranked captains would often be given command of the larger vessels.
Reynolds gave her a nod. "It's a Miranda-III."
Jacobs considered this. As a lieutenant commander, there was a high degree of chance that she would be appointed as the executive officer, if there were no other officers of the same rank. She thought about that, wondering if Starfleet assigned two officers at the rank of lieutenant commander to the same ship. "Those are pretty new ships, I've heard," she said.
"Only the best for our Mister Jacobs," said the captain with a smirk. "I know Nik Romanov. He's a good man, and an excellent captain. Got done with two tours operating on the Klingon border."
That meant he was a Border Patrol officer, and likely she would be serving on a ship that would be going to the Border Patrol. "Sir, I'm not really interested in the Border Patrol."
"I think it would be good for your career, to have a few years on the border on your resume," replied the captain.
She knew this, but it still did not sit well with her. The very reason she joined Starfleet was for exploration, as did a bulk of the officers now serving. Being assigned to the Border Patrol often came with a stigma attached, despite the accelerated combat experience one gained. Explorer units tended to hold Border Patrollers in light disdain for their tendancy to shoot first and ask questions later. Still, nothing had changed in the last few moments. She would be reporting for duty aboard the Majestic, whether she liked it or not. "Understood, sir."
In a tone suggesting that the thought surfaced just then, the captain continued. "One more thing, Lieutenant Commander Jacobs," he said, stressing the use of her new rank.
"Yes, sir?" she asked.
"You are also immediately detached from this command and are ordered to take a week's administrative leave prior to arriving at the Antares Shipyards," the captain said.
Being immediately detached impressed upon her the urgency of her orders. It meant that instead of being allowed to remain on board, she would use up the entire week getting to her new assignment. "Aye, sir," replied Jacobs, with a short nod.
Reynolds handed the empty box back to the captain, then handed the old lieutenants' rank pins back to Jacobs. "Hang onto these, Aggie."
She nodded her thanks.
"The orders indicate for you to ship out immediately, otherwise, we would have some sort of sending off party. So, we won't keep you any longer, Commander," said the captain, extending his hand. "Godspeed, Aggie. We're going to miss you around here."
Lieutenant Commander Jacobs accepted the hand of her now-former commanding officer. "Thank you, Captain. I'm going to miss everyone."
Once the business and formalities were dispensed with, the captain turned to Reynolds, "XO, walk her out, will you?"
Reynolds nodded. "Aye, sir."
Out in the corridor on deck two, the pair of lieutenant commanders headed for the turbolift.
"Excited?" asked Frank Reynolds, as they walked.
Aggie sighed and placed her former rank insignia inside her uniform's jacket. "Nervous."
Frank smiled and nodded. "Oh, I've been there, before."
"How did you deal with it?" she asked. "I mean, how did you get through your first posting as an exec?"
"I'll let you know when I'm done with it," he replied.
"I meant, how did you get through your first week?"
"Well, there's preparation." They reached the lift doors, and Frank reached out with a finger to call it to their deck.
"Okay," she nodded her understanding.
"Hard work," continued Frank, in a tone suggesting he was thinking about it.
"That goes without saying."
"Establish a good line of communication with your new skipper. Gotta have that."
"Absolutely," agreed Aggie. "Anything else?"
"Vomiting," said Frank, after a long while. "You're not going to be able to get through the first week without vomit."
Aggie gave him a disgusted look, and swatted his right arm.
On the heels of Frank's words, the lift doors parted. Inside the lift stood a lone crewman, and his eyes lifted from the deck to the pair of officers waiting for the lift. He stared at them in askance.
"Uh, you know what?" said Aggie as she blushed. "We're going to get the next one, Crewman."
When the doors closed, she swatted him again and exclaimed, "Frank!"
"What?" he asked innocently. "You asked, I answered."
"Jacobs, Agatha Abigail. Lieutenant Commander," said the computer in its feminine tones. "Promoted Stardate 23450.1, assigned to starship USS Lexington as operations officer." The screen within the captain's stateroom showed the picture of a woman with dark brown hair, green eyes, and a fair complexion. "Recipient of two letters of commendation from present command. Recipient of the Defense Superior Service Medal."
Romanov listened as he put on his uniform jacket. When the computer finished reading the record, he asked, "Computer, has Commander Jacobs been dispatched from the Lexington?" He began to fasten the jacket's belt.
"Working," replied the computer. "Initiating uplink with Antares communications array. Requested function will take approximately twenty minutes."
"Oh, forget that. Computer, cancel my request." He rolled his eyes as his hands moved up and over his jacket's front to fasten the buttons into place. "What time is it?"
"Eighteen fifty-four hundred hours."
It was nearly three hours since his arrival and conversation with Lieutenant Yates in main engineering. Since then, he had managed to make the stateroom look a little less new and make personal requests for his stateroom amenities.
"Computer, call up the record of Lieutenant Veronica Yates, present assignment PCU Majestic." He specified to discount any other officer of similar rank and name serving elsewhere in Starfleet.
"Working."
He finished snapping the buttons into place and latched the white sash over his right shoulder into place.
The computer finished looking up the record. "Yates, Veronica Elizabeth. Lieutenant. Promoted Stardate 23391, present assignment PCU Majestic as engineer-in-command. Recipient of Meritorious Service Medal." The screen within the stateroom flashed as the computer spoke, to print the text of the record on the screen.
He looked at his reflection within the mirror provided, and was satisfied with it. The maroon uniform looked even better than it had before he wore it last. Upon the command white shoulder band resided the brand new insignia of a full Commander within Starfleet, and he could not help but admire the officer staring back at him in the moment he had before the door chimed.
"Computer, deactivate screen," said Romanov quickly. Once the screen powered down, he called out, "Enter."
Dressed in the uniform of the day, Lieutenant Veronica Yates did as she was requested. "Good evening, Commander."
"Good evening, Lieutenant," replied Commander Romanov. "Thank you for coming. Would you care to sit down? Can I get you something to drink or eat?"
"Thank you, sir," she accepted. "I'll take a cold glass of water." As she stepped through the living area and sat down on one of the couches, she commented, "You know, the last time I was in here, we were installing optic cable."
Romanov placed the order with the replicator for a water and a coffee. When they materialized, he carried them over to the table in between the couches and chairs. He smiled at her as he sat himself in a nearby chair. "I'll bet it only looks slightly better right now."
She reached forward to take the water into her hands as she spoke, "Furniture makes all the difference, sir. In my cabin, the only thing I use regularly is the bed, and the table." Taking a sip, she continued to look around. "I see you brought some of your own things, already. I haven't had any opportunity to decorate."
"What little I could bring with me," he said, flavoring his coffee. "I'm afraid that moving from that closet of a cabin on my old ship to this luxury suite here has left me wanting. I've already placed an order with the yardmaster for some general amenities."
"I'll see to it that your requests are sent up here as soon as they arrive, sir."
"I appreciate that, Lieutenant, but don't go to any trouble on my account."
"No trouble at all, sir," she assured him.
"I imagine that until the rest of our officers arrive, you and I will have to facilitate a great many tasks in order to get the ship ready for her shakedown cruise," said Romanov. "I took a look at the progress timetable, and that appears to be in less than two weeks. Are you confident in the progress made so far to make that deadline?"
"With time to spare, sir. We could shove off right now, if we had to, and I could put the finishing touches with some of the yardbirds while underway," boasted Yates.
Romanov smiled at her. "I admire your optimism, Lieutenant."
Yates did not smile in return and in a serious tone, she replied, "I like to be prepared, Commander."
He took a sip of his coffee before continuing the conversation. "Prepared to depart early?"
"Given current events, I had anticipated Starfleet pressing the ship into service ahead of schedule."
"I see," is all he said in response to that. "Well, as I said, without a majority of the officers present, that would be very unlikely. To that end, I've already made my senior officer selections, and I wanted to let you know that I would like to retain you as chief engineering officer when the ship is placed on active duty."
Yates finished her water. "That would be great, sir. Before I accept, I do have one request. If you don't mind, that is, sir."
Romanov asked, "What is your request, Lieutenant?"
She smiled at her new commanding officer and asked, "Would you be so kind as to assume command, first?"
He grinned and opened his mouth to speak, when the ship's internal communications system sounded off to indicate an incoming communication. Raising a hand to excuse himself from the conversation, he walked to his desk and opened the channel. "Romanov, here."
"This is Petty Officer Hilare on the bridge. I'm sorry for interrupting, sir, but I was looking for Lieutenant Yates," said the male voice at the other end.
Romanov gestured for the lieutenant to speak up, and she did so. "This is Yates. Go ahead."
"Lieutenant, incoming message from Starfleet Command placing all vessels at a fleetwide yellow alert," reported the ensign. "I've been ordered to make certain the message is delivered to the ship's commanding officer, but..."
She looked at Romanov as she replied to the petty officer. "That's me, for the moment. Deliver the message, please."
"Aye, sir. Transmitting, now."
The viewscreen within the stateroom activated, and the insignia of Starfleet Command appeared. Moments later, the commanding admiral of Starfleet took its place. She spoke, "To all Starfleet vessels and installations; by order of the Federation Council and signed into effect by the President, I am ordering Starfleet to condition yellow status in preparation for war with the Klingon Empire."