Chapter 1: Captain Orsoy


"The Jubilant? I thought the Jubilant went down when the Borg made the push to Earth. Is this a clever way of telling me I'm being reassigned to a salvage ship or something?"

"I assure you, captain, you are not being assigned to a salvage vessel. To my knowledge, Starfleet typically contracts out our salvage operations in the outlying sectors due to logistics concerns. "

It took every bit of restraint that Captain Jenya Orsoy had to avoid rolling her eyes at the Vulcan admiral across the desk from her. She instead chose to look out the window at the peaceful surroundings of San Francisco. It was certainly not Jen's first visit to the Human homeworld, not even close, but the colors of the place still struck her as oddly beautiful. Back home the grass grew in the most lovely shade of crimson and the rockwood trees shimmered in the morning light as the twin suns caught the mineral deposits embedded in the bark.

The admiral, for his part, was keeping that same damnable flat expression 'normal' Vulcans always wore. Emotionless, passionless. Not disinterested, far from it, but uncaring. At least, that's how it always struck Jen.

"I still don't understand how you expect me to take command of a destroyed ship, admiral."

The Vulcan's lip twitched and, for just a fraction of a second, Jenya would have sworn she had seen a smirk on the admiral's face. She filed that away for later thought, however, as she settled back down into captain mode… still a fresh concept in her mind.

"Quite simply, captain. Especially considering that the Jubilant was, in fact, not destroyed. Not entirely at least. While it is true that a section of the cube that attacked Earth crashed through the drydock where the Jubilant was being repaired, the damage was limited to the forward saucer and nacelles."

Jen straightened up a bit in her seat, crossing one leg over the other and brushing her hand along her nasal ridge and up, combing back her hair. While she had largely dodged the deuridium dependency that characterized her father's species, she had not totally avoided the physical characteristics.

"So she was crippled in drydock? Good enough a place for it, I suppose." Jen smiled, but it quickly fell flat again as she swore steel entered the admiral's eyes.

"The crew was rushing back aboard to join the fight at the time. This includes, of course, the senior staff and bridge officers. The primary impact point for the debris was the bridge." The admiral folded his hands in front of himself, his back straight as a rod and his voice that same emotionless monotone. "A number of them were killed upon impact, the captain and first officer included.. As such, you will be given a rather unique opportunity with this assignment."

A unique opportunity? That's one way to describe taking over after everyone else is dead…

The admiral stood, turning to face the windows as various shuttles flew through the sky outside. "Rather than coming in as a single new face, you are being given close to an entire fresh command. Most of the original crew is no longer available, notable exceptions being the ship's physician and the chief engineer. The command crew is entirely new to the Jubilant and much of your supplemental staff is new as well."

"So I am starting from the first toss-stone?" Jen asked, rising to join the admiral at the window. She allowed a respectful distance to remain between herself and the Vulcan, but stood comfortably, not at attention.

"Toss-stone?"

"It's a game we played back home when I was a child. You draw a line, or make one with a stick, and toss a stone. Whoever tosses the first stone sets the tone for the game. The goal from then on is to get as close to that stone as possible without hitting it. If you throw it too far, nobody can match you and you risk a poor game because the first tosser can't place first. If you throw it too close, then it's no contest at all and nobody has any fun."

Jen's eyes drifted down to the park at the base of the building where some children were playing a game of their own. "So you have to balance it just right if you want everyone to be engaged and have fun. Not too far, not too close."

The admiral raised an eyebrow and, after a moment, gave a nod. "An unexpectedly logical approach to your first command, given your background, if arrived at through illogical means. I see why your former captain recommended you for the promotion."

"Thank you, admiral."

"Your shuttle is expected to depart at 0900 tomorrow. I shall not keep you any longer… Dismissed, Captain Orsoy."

Jen gave a nod and turned, departing the office.


"Oookay… deep breaths…" Jen stood in front of the mirror in her temporary quarters aboard DS4. Her own home was nearly a quadrant away and, even then, she had just sold it. Her things had all either been put into storage or transported aboard her new ship.

"My ship… My own ship…"

Her only remaining possessions were already on her person… and the contents of the small jewelry case in her hand. She opened the small black box and gazed down in awe at the simple pin held within. Her fourth 'pip'. She pulled the golden disk out and closed the case. Her eyes went back to the mirror as she tilted her head to the side and placed the pip alongside the other three on her collar.

She stepped back a bit, getting a full view of herself. Her nasal ridge somehow looked less prominent today, but she was sure that was because she was distracted by the new adornment to her collar. She reached up, adjusting her copper-shaded hair a bit. She kept it cut short, chin length on top and combed to one side with a shave around. In her teenage years she had rebelled by cutting her hair down to mere centimeters and had yet to go back to a longer hairstyle.

Her ears still stuck out like the pointed sore thumbs they were. The only sign of her mother's influence on her genetics visible from the outside. Her skin shared her father's pale hue and her eyes were emerald green.

The half-vulcan checked over her uniform, making sure everything was perfectly in place from her auburn hair to her polished boots. She had to make a good first impression… Especially since her assignment as captain of the Jubilant had been a last minute change. While much of the replacement crew had been with the ship throughout the repairs and refits, she was going to be a fully fresh face.

As she turned to head for the door she felt a pang of pain shoot through her mind. As if on cue, the monitor bracelet she wore chimed and alarmed, the band pulsing bright red. Her cellular cohesion had begun to degrade. As her vision swam, she stumbled across the room and retrieved her emergency hypo. A loud gasp escaped her as she jammed the applicator to her neck. A flash of white over her vision and she was back to her usual, cellularly stable self.

"Damn it… I need to get a real infusion. I've been using my hypos too much lately."

In the months since the end of the war, the Federation's efforts to aid the dying Kobliad people had increased. Although synthesis of artificial deuridium was still in its trial phases, the outlook was not quite hopeless as it had been during and prior to the war. In a bout of genetic good fortune, however, Jenya's mother had been a Vulcan. Her unique biochemistry and the natural resilience of Vulcan physiology meant that she had a certain resistance to the cellular instability that plagued other members of her race. She still needed deuridium, of course, but in much lower doses and much less frequently. She could sustain herself on simple injections for weeks between proper infusions.

Jenya looked down at her monitor bracelet and sighed. Only a yellow band, not green. The injections were losing potency again which meant she would need an infusion within the next standard day or two at the most. But for now, the injection would have to be enough. She had a crew to meet.

The captain straightened her uniform one last time and left her quarters.