Delta shift. USS Sargon Stardate 3141.91

John Malachi always hated the late shift.

Not only was it difficult to work a shift that was opposite of the day, but it was very quiet, the kind of quiet one would experience in a funeral home sans the organ dirges, making it more difficult for him to keep his mind on his work as he become tired. His previous assignments were during the day — alpha and beta shifts — so getting used to working what was, for a starship, the middle of the night was something to which he could never fully adjust.

There were another 500 crewmembers on the USS Sargon, but the vast majority of them were either still in bed or off shift, leaving Malachi the leader of just over a couple dozen crewmembers overseeing ship operations. Of course, they were never truly on their own. A flick of a switch — activating the red alert — would bring the ship's entire complement on duty in moments. If there were a problem, backup was only a call away.

His superiors weren't the type of officers to be upset if he called to confer. While some were surely asleep, many were awake, just off shift, so they would be available if needed. Malachi only needed to ask the computer what officers were awake and he could contact any of them. No one was truly off duty on a starship as he was more than well aware.

While Malachi hated the shift, he couldn't refuse the assignment — officer in charge, even on the delta shift of a scout ship, was an assignment necessary for any officer looking to command. Having the opportunity to take the assignment on an Essex Class Starship wasn't one any officer who wanted a career in Starfleet could afford to refuse.

Malachi wasn't looking initially to command, he enjoyed working in tactical and weapon systems, but if his superiors believed he had the moxie to command a ship, who was he to argue? In fact, when the captain mentioned the possibility during his command review, Malachi almost fell over in shock. He was proud of the fact that his superiors thought highly enough of his ability to recommend he be put on the command track, even if he never requested or mentioned any desire to command.

Malachi knew several officers who were extremely cocksure of their ability to command, all of whom came off as braggarts or blowhards. In fact, Malachi believed most of those officers were not strong officers and certainly wouldn't want to serve under any who believed they were better than their fellow officers or their men. While he privately thought he might make a good captain — he was no different than other men, he too dreamt of reaching the pinnacle of his career — he was too modest to put himself up for such a prestigious career.

Meanwhile, he commanded 28 of his fellow crewmembers. He shifted in the captain's chair, his long back was a bit sore from sitting in one position too long. Starfleet needs to redesign the chairs on starships, Malachi thought. There wasn't enough padding to make the captain's chair as soft as granite.

The bridge was quiet, except for the sounds of officers at their work along with the whirs, hums and clicks of the computers. Tom Leitter checked and rechecked his console at navigation. Amy Chin was hunched over her tactical console softly humming to herself, while Russ Lloyd monitored communications in their quadrant of space. The four were the only ones on the bridge. Scott Blattner, who was assigned the science position, was in engineering, working with the engineering staff to improve engine efficiency. The other navigator was in sickbay, but Leitter said he could work the shift solo.

Malachi thought calling what he did command was bit of a stretch. He was only there to watch the clock. If anything major were to happen, he would notify the captain and would defer to his superiors.

Besides, the officers Malachi commanded were able to handle their duties without his input. He couldn't remember the last time one needed his guidance or expertise on anything. He may have been in charge, but he wasn't in command.

It was a bit different from his last assignment on tactical.

As the beta shift commander of tactics and weapons, he was the officer everyone in his department looked to whenever there was a problem that defied their ability to solve. While he enjoyed being the go-to guy, it did begin to wear on his nerves particularly when he couldn't get his own work completed without spending his off-time doing what he was supposedly doing during his shift.

But he loved it. He thanked God for his assignments for he loved the work and the people he worked with in spite of the hardships — the greatest being separated from his wife.

He had met Lisa while in high school; she was a friend of his little sister. Malachi thought she was cute, but his need to study so he could be accepted to Starfleet Academy didn't give him any time to shower attention on a girl a couple years his junior. Malachi had little contact with her except when she came over to see his sister, but the attraction between them was obvious. His mother was particularly insistent that he date Lisa, though his sister was the more frequent yenta.

Malachi could try to deny it, but he was attracted to Lisa. However, it was an attraction brewed in teenage hormones rather than in building a relationship and she wasn't interested in only a physical relationship, so it never went far outside of some heavy necking.

After high school, Malachi went to the academy and immersed himself in his studies and the social life at the academy. His focus and drive — and the tutoring help of a relative who was a respected Starfleet officer — kept him at or near the apex of his class.

During his third year, at a party at his fraternity, he saw her.

Lisa had been accepted to the academy. He remembered his sister mentioning something about her wanting to go, but he rarely listened to his sister.

Lisa was cute in high school, but she was beautiful now.

He saw her talking to his chapter president, her uniform outlining her form, now more womanly rather than that of an attractive young girl. Her soft brown hair rested gently on her shoulders, her brown eyes bright, highlighting her face. She saw him and broke widely in a smile. He thought she would hug him, but she just said hello.

He was smitten.

This time it was different. Two years at the academy, the discipline, the hard work and responsibility of being on his own had made him more mature. He monopolized her time at the party and soon the two were known to be exclusive. Interested in more than her body, Malachi began to know Lisa for the first time and soon the physical attractive was secondary to the love he felt for her.

Two weeks after her graduation, their families met at the academy chapel to witness the two take their wedding vows with the Catholic chaplain of the academy officiating. Asking for a favor from his captain and using a relative in Starfleet to pull a few strings, Malachi helped Lisa get an assignment on the Sargon.

The couple, being one of the few married couples on board — and the only newlyweds — was subjected of a bit a good-natured ribbing. Of course, neither having much seniority, the newlyweds didn't spend much time together since they were assigned to different shifts in different parts of the ship.

Malachi spent his on-duty hours either on the bridge or in the weapons room while Lisa spent her hours in engineering. They sought out a stolen moment together or enjoyed a rare day off together.

After three and a half years, there was big change in their lives.

Malachi remembered the day, nearly five months earlier, when they were told that Lisa was pregnant. However, she had a difficult time and the doctor suggested terminating the pregnancy. Lisa, devout in her faith, wouldn't hear of it. The doctor instead recommended a less strenuous position than in engineering. Since sedentary positions are not found on a starship, Lisa transferred three months ago to Starbase 4.

The key strategic location of Starbase 4 made it the ideal spot for a major communications station. Deep in Federation territory, the Starbase had few armaments or shielding. It didn't need it, being over 20 parsecs from Klingon space.

Lisa's training in communications and her experience in engineering made her a valuable commodity on the station. Since trained communication or engineering officers usually try to transfer from a Starbase to a starship, having an officer willing to transfer from a starship to a Starbase was an opportunity the base commander couldn't decline. The outstanding medical facilities made it an easy choice for Lisa.

Malachi had only seen her once when the Sargon's communications officer arranged a quick message over subspace. But a couple of minutes on a public channel isn't the same as spending time with his wife and Malachi yearned for the next time he could see her, smell her perfume and hold her in his arms.

The intercom's beeping brought him out of his memories and back to his duty.

"Bridge," he said, hitting the button on the captain's chair.

"Johnny! Got plans after the staff meeting?" asked Antonio Ramos, the lieutenant in charge of engineering during delta shift.

"I planned on studying the insides of my eyelids. Why?" Malachi asked. Tony Ramos was one of the most outgoing people he had ever met and was always up for something. Malachi wondered if he ever slept, but without a wife and family on board, Ramos had the time. Now that Lisa was stationed at Starbase 4, so did Malachi.

"I'm proposing a trade. I have some whole coffee beans — Blue Mountain from Jamaica — which I'll trade for some of your muffins," Ramos said.

"How did you know I have muffins?"

"I'm dating Jo Ann Kraine in the quartermaster's office," Ramos said. "She told me you were in the kitchens baking muffins before you came on shift. Come on, replicator muffins are nasty and everyone knows you are the best baker on ship. Quarter pound of beans for three muffins?"

"You're out of your mind, I only made a dozen. Quarter pound for a muffin."

"Quarter pound for two muffins?"

"That and a cup of coffee later?"

"Deal!" Ramos said. "Dinner after the meeting?"

"Sure," Malachi said. "Bridge out."

He looked at the chronometer. It was about 40 minute until alpha shift was due.

Like clockwork, First Officer Josh Cable walked in. Malachi rose.

"As you were," Cable said. "I'm just going to get ready for my shift." Cable said the same thing every morning. He never took the chair from Malachi. "How was your shift?"

"Quiet," Malachi said. "Not much happening."

"I'm sure you're tired," Cable said. "A nice, exciting staff meeting should get your blood flowing." A smile crossed his face. Cable was a quiet officer, but his quiet nature hid a razor sharp wit.

"Nothing like a meeting to keep my mind sharp," Malachi said.

"Part of the job, I'm afraid."

Cable busied himself at the science station, downloaded data into his datapad and left the bridge.

Malachi turned his attention to the shift reports, hoping to complete them before the meeting so he didn't have to spend any more time than necessary on duty. He was tired and wanted to grab some dinner and go to sleep. Filling out shift reports was a better cure for insomnia than anything sickbay could ever concoct.

He finished the last entry when the captain came to the bridge. Malachi rose out of the seat.

"As you were," Captain Bob Rice said. "Quiet night Mr. Malachi?"

"Yes, sir."

"Why don't you head down to the conference room and get yourself a quick cup of coffee before the meeting?" the captain said. "You look like you could use a jolt of Joe."

"Thank you sir, I really do," Malachi said as he walked to the turbolift.

"Considering the bachelor life you are leading, I'm not surprised you're tired," Rice said, with a smile on his face. "Ramos is running you ragged with that party lifestyle of his. I doubt your wife would approve."

"Could always be worse, sir" Malachi said. "It could be another semester is Admiral Peskin's history of the Federation class. I couldn't handle that much work again."

"He was worse when I had him," Rice said.

"How?" Malachi asked. "There was so much less history to learn then." Chin started to laugh.

"You better get that coffee before you become an ensign," Rice said, chuckling under his breath. Malachi got on to the turbolift.

"There's a message from Starfleet, captain," Malachi heard Lloyd say as he the doors closed.

Getting off at deck 10, it was a short walk to the captain's conference room. The yeomen were finishing setting the room up.

"Morning, Mr. Malachi," said Yeoman Brit Smith.

"Morning, Smith. Just coming down to get a cup of coffee before the officers' meeting starts," Malachi said as he pressed the buttons for a cup of coffee on the replicator. "Any word on how the Cubs did?"

"They won."

"They might go to the playoffs this year after all."

"Mr. Malachi, don't you get tired of rooting for a team that wins all the time?" Smith asked.

"They didn't make the playoffs last year."

"Wow, the first time in seven years they didn't win the championship. It must be difficult for you to bear."

"What can I say," Malachi said with a smile, taking a sip of his coffee. It wasn't very good. "There aren't many teams that could become the winners the Cubs have become after 150 years of no titles."

"You're breaking my heart," Smith said as he placed pitchers of water on the table.

"It's not my fault you're a Mets fan."

The doors swooshed open as the other senior officers started to come in. Smith said goodbye and left with the other yeoman. Malachi sat down and started to drink his coffee.

As one of the least senior members of the senior staff, Malachi didn't have much to add to the meetings and basically did what he was told. It wasn't something he had a problem with, he had always believed there are times where one should keep quiet and learn from those who know more. A lieutenant with five plus years of experience doesn't have much to teach his fellow senior officers.

This meeting was like many others — boring. Most of the items didn't have to do with his job, but Malachi kept notes on his datapad. It was difficult to keep his mind focused during the discussion of the minutiae of ship operations, most of which didn't concern him or his shift. He began to imagine how nice it would be to finally get into bed.

"Mr. Malachi!" the captain said, about a half an hour after the meeting started.

"Yes, sir," Malachi said, a little embarrassed about having let his tired mind wander.

"Before this meeting, I received the ship's daily communication with Starfleet and part of it concerned you," Captain Rice said.

"Me sir?" Malachi asked, a bit perplexed and worried.

"Allow me to read it.

"'Captain Robert Rice, USS Sargon. It gives me pleasure to approve your recommendation to enroll Lieutenant John Joseph Malachi in Starfleet Academy's School of Tactics and Command. Please have Malachi complete the enclosed forms and return them with the next data stream for registration.' It goes on about filling out transfer requests and other items. It is signed by the commandant of the academy.

"Congratulations Mr. Malachi. You've been selected to attend one of the most exclusive programs in Starfleet. Someday, we'll be working for you!" Rice's face broke out into a large smile as the officers in the room broke into applause. Rice handed the letter to Malachi. Commander Jay Williams slapped him on the back as Ramos gave him a thumbs-up from across the table.

"Believe it or not, he's silent," Cable said. "I thought I'd never live to see the day."

His fellow officers laughed as Malachi smiled slightly, blushing.

"I…I…I don't know what to say. Captain, thank you for recommending me. I never thought I would be selected, especially on first application," Malachi said.

"You're welcome, Mr. Malachi," the captain said. "If you could contact our next destination before you go off duty, I would appreciate it."

"Yes, sir."

It was an unusual request for him to contact a Starfleet facility; while he could operate communications equipment there were officers on duty who were better qualified to make contact and who weren't sitting in a staff meeting.

Making contact was a simple matter of informing the destination that the ship would be arriving so both staffs could coordinate whatever the ship needed and so the ship's chronometers could be adjusted so the base and the ship would be on the same time, if needed. It would only take a few minutes for Malachi to complete.

"Now, Mr. Malachi," Rice said.

"Yes, sir," Malachi said. Usually this was a task that would be completed after the meeting room was emptied or from the communications station on the bridge, but if the captain wanted it done immediately, he would do it immediately.

He hit the communication button, asking the communications officer on duty, Wanda Thorne, to contact the ship's destination.

"Video is ready, Mr. Malachi," Thorne said.

He entered the command for the video screen to bring the picture up and was greeted with Lisa's face.

"Hey, good looking," she said. "You look whipped."

"Baby, I didn't expect to see you."

"I really miss you. I can't wait to see you. The baby is healthy. I talked to the doctor and he said there is no reason we shouldn't be able to…."

"Lisa, I'm in a meeting."

"Oh," she said, blushing. "Well, I can't wait to see you."

"I'm calling because you are our next port of call."

"Great! That's news that will make a girl's day. Could you patch me to navigation?"

"Sure, one minute please," Malachi said.

"Oh, before you go, look at this," she said, after adjusting the screen to show her entire body instead of her face. "Looking a little pudgy!" She cradled her stomach, which was no longer the flat washboard it had been, but was sticking out, giving her an obviously pregnant look. Malachi thought she looked beautiful.

"You look good kid."

"I feel good."

"Looks like you put on a couple of pounds on Ensign," the captain said, looking over Malachi's shoulder. "Unfortunately, so have I, but you'll lose yours. You look good."

"Thank you, captain. I'll talk to you later John. Love you."

"OK," Malachi said. "I see you in a few days."

"Oh, just tell her you love her," Ramos said.

"Love you, Lisa."

"See you later. Thanks, Tony."

The screen went dark as Malachi transferred Lisa to navigation. It was typical of the captain to make a gesture of letting him make contact with the Starbase where Lisa was stationed on the off chance that she would be working in communications. There were few captains who would have thought of doing that for one of their officers, but Rice wasn't your typical captain.

"There is a sector command meeting to be held at Starbase 4 and Starfleet wants us to be briefed in person," the captain said. "All department heads along with shift and command officers will be required to attend, except for you Mr. Malachi and delta shift. You will be left in command of the Sargon.

"This meeting must be important since Starfleet command isn't willing to discuss the matter over subspace. That's all for now. Dismissed."

The officers stood up and begin to leave. Ramos came over to Malachi.

"Come on, we have to celebrate," Ramos said. "I'll buy."

"Thanks for the offer. Next time, offer to buy at a place that takes credits."

"What and spend money on someone soon to be my superior officer? Not a chance."

The two left to grab some dinner before catching some sleep.