[AUTHOR'S NOTE: My planned epilogue to this mini-series stubbornly refused to write itself, as all the others did so effortlessly, so I've decided to scrap my original story idea and instead try something new. The following is a very short piece that is important for setting up what is to come, plus I also kinda liked it, so I've decided to include it. Hopefully with my new idea in mind I can get some proper writing done on it over the next few days--if work stopped getting in the way!]
* * * * *
Thanks to the administrations and effort of Doctor Ad’u, Captain Reihyn was once again back on his feet—though admittedly still a little stiff and sore at times, nothing physical therapy wouldn’t help with—but at that moment he was forced to sit and wait. Although they were in a time of war, where the loss of starships was to be expected, procedure needed to be followed which meant a hearing. With ships of the line, those engaged in fierce fighting, these were typically short affairs, lasting only a few hours (just as it had been when the Sabre-Class U.S.S. Kukri, his first command, had been lost in battle), but for support ships like the Orion they dug a little deeper—looking to see if the ship’s Captain was throwing aside their duties in pursuit of some glory. This had led to almost two days of meetings, reviewing logs and reports, interviews with the crew and incident investigation specialists, who’d also gone over all the records with a fine toothcomb.
He’d been notified not half an hour ago that a decision had been reached and Vice Admiral P’Rau needed to speak with him, to give him their findings. So now he waited in the anteroom of the Admiral’s office. The young junior lieutenant behind the desk, P’Rau’s new aid following the reassignment of Commander th’Daashi, assured him that the Admiral would be with him shortly before resuming his duties, with a hesitant frenzy—obviously still new to the position and overwhelmed by the volume of work.
Reihyn was left to his own thoughts, which of course were solely on the investigation. Throughout all of his questioning by the panel (which had consisted of the Admiral, Captain Louisa Harrington of the U.S.S. Vigilance, Captain Solkov of Starbase 360, and Commander Zilin Trobach from Starfleet Intelligence) he had been entirely honest about what had happened; from the moment the Breen had dropped out of warp, masking their approaching signature to make themselves look like a troop transport they had been scheduled to rendezvous with, the opening salvo and the brief but fierce battle that ensued. The Constellation-Class ship had been overwhelmed quickly, but it was only through the sheer grit and determination of her crew that she had lasted as long as she had.
He had been bombarded with questions about the Breen ships and the tactics they’d used, from masking their warp signature, to the weapon they’d used to collapse the Orion’s warp field (Reihyn had known that they’re chance of survival had been slim, so his initial tactic was to turn tail and run, but they hadn’t let them escape), the subspace dampener they’d employed to keep them from sending out a distress call, as well as the presence of the striker. The board’s interest seemed more than just wanting to get the facts about the loss of a ship, Trobach in particular was very keen to have as much information on the technology and methodology the Breen had used. Reihyn’s first CO had told him once that if Intel was interested in something, then it was far worse than he could ever imagine.
“Captain Reihyn,” the lieutenant, who hadn’t introduced himself, spoke up in the near silence of the room. He looked up at the young man. “The Admiral will see you now.”
Giving the fresh-faced human a nod, he stood and headed for the Admiral’s door, which parted on his approach. Inside, the desk was the first thing he saw as he entered, positioned between the door and the large viewport, whilst on his left there was a small seating area with a pair of comfortable looking couches and the bulkhead on the right was dominated with a large monitor, depicting fleet positioning. P’Rau was at her desk, looking at her desktop terminal. The Caitian’s raven-black fur shone in the light of the room, her mane of hair was tied back in a neat braid, whilst her emerald-green eyes scanned back and forth at what she was reading on the screen. She was definitely a striking individual, with the reputation as a hard taskmaster when she’d been a Captain, which combined to make her an intimidating presence to be in.
Reihyn stopped before her desk, posture stiff, eyes fixed just above her head, hands clasped behind his back, waiting for her. It took her a moment to finish her reading before she turned her full attention to him.
“Take a seat, Captain,” she began. Unlike most other Caitians, she lacked any kind of purr to her voice. He sat down opposite her, keeping his back straight and hiding the wince of pain that it caused from his healing muscles.
“Firstly, the board would like to thank you for your candour in this matter. We understand this must be a difficult time for you, losing a ship and members of your crew is never easy, and this is the second loss in as many years that you have suffered.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You have also helped with a problem that we’ve been seeing along the front for a couple of weeks now. We have lost all contact with five other support ships, but no remains or evidence has ever been recovered. Going by your encounter with the Breen, we believe they have been using this tactic to try and break our supply lines. Now that we know what they’re doing, we can create countermeasures, so many more people now owe you their lives,” she told him, a rare smile curling her lips for a moment.
It vanished and she sat forward slightly, looking almost as though she were ready to pounce on him. “The board has absolved you of any blame in the destruction of the U.S.S. Orion NCC-3013. Given the age and condition of the ship, what you were up against, as well as all the corroborating data and records that show your actions leading up to and during the battle, you did all that you could when faced with overwhelming odds. You have been awarded the Grankite Order of Tactics for the incident—you have definitely proven to have a very keen tactical mind.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Admiral. However, my crew should be given full recognition for their exemplary duty during the battle, especially after I was rendered unconscious.”
She sat back, looking unmoved by his statement. He had to wonder how many other captains said the same thing, and just how many of them actually meant it. Her eyes flicked to the screen of her personal terminal again, then back to him.
“We also reviewed your service over the last eighteen months. It is certainly impressive, the Orion has done some exceptional work. You should be very proud.”
“We did what was needed, sir. I just wish we could’ve done more.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to get a read on him. “I’ve spoken with Starfleet Command and we are in agreement, given all you have achieved, in such exceptional circumstances, you will retain your rank and are to be given command of another ship.”
He felt his tattooed brow shoot up on his forehead. Though it was the best result he could’ve hoped for, part of him had been expecting demotion after losing two ships in such a short space of time. Thankful for the chance to continue his captaincy, he would take whatever ship they gave him without question.
“I am grateful, Admiral. Thank you.”
“I’m sure you’ll apply the same level of dedication and diligence to your new command as you’ve demonstrated thus far.”
“I will, sir, I assure you,” he told her, grinning. He reigned himself back in, composing his expression once again for something a little more fitting of a starship captain, before continuing. “May I ask, Admiral, what ship will I be assigned too?”
“Starfleet plans to throw everything we have at the Dominion in one push, force them back on all fronts. To this end, every shipyard in the Federation has been working above their capacity, constructing as many vessels as they can in preparation for the order to come through. The next wave of ships built at Starbase 47 will be ready in twelve days and one of them has been earmarked for you.” She slid one of the PADDs on her desk over to him.
Unable to quite believe what he was hearing, he picked up the device, trying to order his thoughts into some manner that he could voice. The small screen came alive and depicted a very distinctive schematic; a single, wide arrowhead-shaped hull, with a pair of struts at the rear where the pylons branched off to two flat, rectangular nacelles. At 335 meters long the Norway-Class ship would be the largest he’d served on. He only had the time to glace at the display, though it was long enough to see that the ships only identification was listed as NCC-80110, she had yet to be officially named.
When he looked back at the Vice Admiral the question must’ve been evident on his face. “When you report aboard, in honour of her long and distinguished service as both a ship-of-the-line and a support vessel, your new command will become the new U.S.S. Orion.”
“Thank you, Admiral. I only hope that she is a worthy successor to her namesake.”
P’Rau picked up another PADD and looked at it, confirming it was the one she wanted, then moved to hand it to him. “They are just finishing up with construction work, then it’ll be diagnostics, and once all that is done you’ll be assigned a new crew and—”
His hand stopped as he reached for the other PADD, the gesture closely scrutinised by the Caitian admiral.
“New crew, sir?”
“Yes Captain, one more suited to serving on the frontlines, as that is where you’ll most likely be headed after you launch.”
Without a moment’s hesitation he pulled his hand back and left her holding the tablet, her sharp green eyes bore into him. “In that case, Admiral, I must respectfully decline. I already have a crew, a damn fine one, who I owe my life too.”
“Captain, this is no joking matter.” Her furry hand holding the PADD lowered and rested on the desk.
“I’m not joking, sir. If I’m to assume command of this ship, I’d like it to be with the crew I’ve worked with for the last year and a half. I wouldn’t fell right taking another ship if I didn’t have those people with me.”
As she scrutinised him, time slowed down. Seconds felt like minutes. But even under her intense look he kept his formal posture and demeanour, not wanting to crack under her withering look. After what felt like ten minutes (though in reality just ten seconds of silence had passed), she bared her sharp teeth again. For an instant he thought that she really would launch herself over the desk, aiming for his throat.
“Looks like I win.”
“Sir?”
“Admiral Coburn bet me that you’d take a new crew for the Orion-II. I believed otherwise. Thank you, Captain.”
Perplexed and frowning, all he could think to say was, “You’re welcome, Admiral.”
She offered him the PADD once again and he took it this time. It contained his official orders, signed by Vice Admiral William Ross, which he carefully read over.
“Crew shortages mean you won’t have a full complement, but I’m sure you’ll be able to get by with one hundred and forty. I’ll have Lieutenant O’Shea pull together lists of candidates for your additional crew, as well as the key vacancies you have in your command staff.”
He looked back at her. “I already have a First Officer in mind, sir. That is, if you’d be willing to authorise a promotion—well several promotions actually.”
* * * * *
END
* * * * *
Thanks to the administrations and effort of Doctor Ad’u, Captain Reihyn was once again back on his feet—though admittedly still a little stiff and sore at times, nothing physical therapy wouldn’t help with—but at that moment he was forced to sit and wait. Although they were in a time of war, where the loss of starships was to be expected, procedure needed to be followed which meant a hearing. With ships of the line, those engaged in fierce fighting, these were typically short affairs, lasting only a few hours (just as it had been when the Sabre-Class U.S.S. Kukri, his first command, had been lost in battle), but for support ships like the Orion they dug a little deeper—looking to see if the ship’s Captain was throwing aside their duties in pursuit of some glory. This had led to almost two days of meetings, reviewing logs and reports, interviews with the crew and incident investigation specialists, who’d also gone over all the records with a fine toothcomb.
He’d been notified not half an hour ago that a decision had been reached and Vice Admiral P’Rau needed to speak with him, to give him their findings. So now he waited in the anteroom of the Admiral’s office. The young junior lieutenant behind the desk, P’Rau’s new aid following the reassignment of Commander th’Daashi, assured him that the Admiral would be with him shortly before resuming his duties, with a hesitant frenzy—obviously still new to the position and overwhelmed by the volume of work.
Reihyn was left to his own thoughts, which of course were solely on the investigation. Throughout all of his questioning by the panel (which had consisted of the Admiral, Captain Louisa Harrington of the U.S.S. Vigilance, Captain Solkov of Starbase 360, and Commander Zilin Trobach from Starfleet Intelligence) he had been entirely honest about what had happened; from the moment the Breen had dropped out of warp, masking their approaching signature to make themselves look like a troop transport they had been scheduled to rendezvous with, the opening salvo and the brief but fierce battle that ensued. The Constellation-Class ship had been overwhelmed quickly, but it was only through the sheer grit and determination of her crew that she had lasted as long as she had.
He had been bombarded with questions about the Breen ships and the tactics they’d used, from masking their warp signature, to the weapon they’d used to collapse the Orion’s warp field (Reihyn had known that they’re chance of survival had been slim, so his initial tactic was to turn tail and run, but they hadn’t let them escape), the subspace dampener they’d employed to keep them from sending out a distress call, as well as the presence of the striker. The board’s interest seemed more than just wanting to get the facts about the loss of a ship, Trobach in particular was very keen to have as much information on the technology and methodology the Breen had used. Reihyn’s first CO had told him once that if Intel was interested in something, then it was far worse than he could ever imagine.
“Captain Reihyn,” the lieutenant, who hadn’t introduced himself, spoke up in the near silence of the room. He looked up at the young man. “The Admiral will see you now.”
Giving the fresh-faced human a nod, he stood and headed for the Admiral’s door, which parted on his approach. Inside, the desk was the first thing he saw as he entered, positioned between the door and the large viewport, whilst on his left there was a small seating area with a pair of comfortable looking couches and the bulkhead on the right was dominated with a large monitor, depicting fleet positioning. P’Rau was at her desk, looking at her desktop terminal. The Caitian’s raven-black fur shone in the light of the room, her mane of hair was tied back in a neat braid, whilst her emerald-green eyes scanned back and forth at what she was reading on the screen. She was definitely a striking individual, with the reputation as a hard taskmaster when she’d been a Captain, which combined to make her an intimidating presence to be in.
Reihyn stopped before her desk, posture stiff, eyes fixed just above her head, hands clasped behind his back, waiting for her. It took her a moment to finish her reading before she turned her full attention to him.
“Take a seat, Captain,” she began. Unlike most other Caitians, she lacked any kind of purr to her voice. He sat down opposite her, keeping his back straight and hiding the wince of pain that it caused from his healing muscles.
“Firstly, the board would like to thank you for your candour in this matter. We understand this must be a difficult time for you, losing a ship and members of your crew is never easy, and this is the second loss in as many years that you have suffered.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You have also helped with a problem that we’ve been seeing along the front for a couple of weeks now. We have lost all contact with five other support ships, but no remains or evidence has ever been recovered. Going by your encounter with the Breen, we believe they have been using this tactic to try and break our supply lines. Now that we know what they’re doing, we can create countermeasures, so many more people now owe you their lives,” she told him, a rare smile curling her lips for a moment.
It vanished and she sat forward slightly, looking almost as though she were ready to pounce on him. “The board has absolved you of any blame in the destruction of the U.S.S. Orion NCC-3013. Given the age and condition of the ship, what you were up against, as well as all the corroborating data and records that show your actions leading up to and during the battle, you did all that you could when faced with overwhelming odds. You have been awarded the Grankite Order of Tactics for the incident—you have definitely proven to have a very keen tactical mind.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Admiral. However, my crew should be given full recognition for their exemplary duty during the battle, especially after I was rendered unconscious.”
She sat back, looking unmoved by his statement. He had to wonder how many other captains said the same thing, and just how many of them actually meant it. Her eyes flicked to the screen of her personal terminal again, then back to him.
“We also reviewed your service over the last eighteen months. It is certainly impressive, the Orion has done some exceptional work. You should be very proud.”
“We did what was needed, sir. I just wish we could’ve done more.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to get a read on him. “I’ve spoken with Starfleet Command and we are in agreement, given all you have achieved, in such exceptional circumstances, you will retain your rank and are to be given command of another ship.”
He felt his tattooed brow shoot up on his forehead. Though it was the best result he could’ve hoped for, part of him had been expecting demotion after losing two ships in such a short space of time. Thankful for the chance to continue his captaincy, he would take whatever ship they gave him without question.
“I am grateful, Admiral. Thank you.”
“I’m sure you’ll apply the same level of dedication and diligence to your new command as you’ve demonstrated thus far.”
“I will, sir, I assure you,” he told her, grinning. He reigned himself back in, composing his expression once again for something a little more fitting of a starship captain, before continuing. “May I ask, Admiral, what ship will I be assigned too?”
“Starfleet plans to throw everything we have at the Dominion in one push, force them back on all fronts. To this end, every shipyard in the Federation has been working above their capacity, constructing as many vessels as they can in preparation for the order to come through. The next wave of ships built at Starbase 47 will be ready in twelve days and one of them has been earmarked for you.” She slid one of the PADDs on her desk over to him.
Unable to quite believe what he was hearing, he picked up the device, trying to order his thoughts into some manner that he could voice. The small screen came alive and depicted a very distinctive schematic; a single, wide arrowhead-shaped hull, with a pair of struts at the rear where the pylons branched off to two flat, rectangular nacelles. At 335 meters long the Norway-Class ship would be the largest he’d served on. He only had the time to glace at the display, though it was long enough to see that the ships only identification was listed as NCC-80110, she had yet to be officially named.
When he looked back at the Vice Admiral the question must’ve been evident on his face. “When you report aboard, in honour of her long and distinguished service as both a ship-of-the-line and a support vessel, your new command will become the new U.S.S. Orion.”
“Thank you, Admiral. I only hope that she is a worthy successor to her namesake.”
P’Rau picked up another PADD and looked at it, confirming it was the one she wanted, then moved to hand it to him. “They are just finishing up with construction work, then it’ll be diagnostics, and once all that is done you’ll be assigned a new crew and—”
His hand stopped as he reached for the other PADD, the gesture closely scrutinised by the Caitian admiral.
“New crew, sir?”
“Yes Captain, one more suited to serving on the frontlines, as that is where you’ll most likely be headed after you launch.”
Without a moment’s hesitation he pulled his hand back and left her holding the tablet, her sharp green eyes bore into him. “In that case, Admiral, I must respectfully decline. I already have a crew, a damn fine one, who I owe my life too.”
“Captain, this is no joking matter.” Her furry hand holding the PADD lowered and rested on the desk.
“I’m not joking, sir. If I’m to assume command of this ship, I’d like it to be with the crew I’ve worked with for the last year and a half. I wouldn’t fell right taking another ship if I didn’t have those people with me.”
As she scrutinised him, time slowed down. Seconds felt like minutes. But even under her intense look he kept his formal posture and demeanour, not wanting to crack under her withering look. After what felt like ten minutes (though in reality just ten seconds of silence had passed), she bared her sharp teeth again. For an instant he thought that she really would launch herself over the desk, aiming for his throat.
“Looks like I win.”
“Sir?”
“Admiral Coburn bet me that you’d take a new crew for the Orion-II. I believed otherwise. Thank you, Captain.”
Perplexed and frowning, all he could think to say was, “You’re welcome, Admiral.”
She offered him the PADD once again and he took it this time. It contained his official orders, signed by Vice Admiral William Ross, which he carefully read over.
“Crew shortages mean you won’t have a full complement, but I’m sure you’ll be able to get by with one hundred and forty. I’ll have Lieutenant O’Shea pull together lists of candidates for your additional crew, as well as the key vacancies you have in your command staff.”
He looked back at her. “I already have a First Officer in mind, sir. That is, if you’d be willing to authorise a promotion—well several promotions actually.”
* * * * *
END
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Looking forward to part 10.
