Tales of the USS Bluefin – 7: “The More Things Change”
Chapter One
Stardate 54068.2 (25 January 2377)
USS Bluefin
Star Station Echo – Berth 14
Captain’s log – Stardate 54068.2. The past few weeks have been blessedly uneventful. Outside of one routine rescue mission and two supply runs, we’ve enjoyed a bit of down-time following the Bluefin’s encounter with a rogue Starfleet vessel and my own journey to Verex III. I think Admiral Bateson has calmed down a bit too. He seemed his old, friendly self when he called with the news this morning – Starfleet’s stop-loss order has been rescinded. I guess we can now say that the war is truly over. There is a down-side, however. Many good, experienced people will be resigning from Starfleet and also from the Border Service over the next few months. I fear we may lose some good people from the Bluefin. If so, I wish them all the best.
This morning we head out on routine patrol near the Klingon border and the Molari Badlands. At present, there are no reports of unusual pirate activity but we are entering a period of more intense ion storms. I hope both the freighter captains and the smugglers have the good sense to avoid the badlands for a while.
Captain Joseph Akinola took a sip of coffee, and spoke again. “Computer, save log entry and close.”
Acknowledged, replied the computer.
Akinola reached forward to set the coffee mug on his desk and winced as pain shot through his left side. He sat back in the chair with a wry expression on his face. Obviously, his ribs and chest muscles were not quite healed, despite the ministrations of the Eschaton’s fine medic, and the follow-up treatment by Dr. Castille. Akinola had received a brutal beating at the hands of Lortho Elix and three of his henchmen the previous month. Lortho was a prince in the Orion Syndicate – heir apparent to the Elix cartel. Akinola smiled as he recalled how he had meted out more punishment than he received. Still, at 60 years of age, the old cutter skipper didn’t heal as quickly as when he was a young man. With a grunt, he stood from the chair and reluctantly headed toward sick bay.
* * *
Commander Inga Strauss, the young executive officer of the Bluefin, sat in the ward room, finishing her breakfast of mixed fruit and a cup of Raktajino. The door slid open and Lt. Nigel Bane entered, carrying a tray of food. He hesitated when he saw Inga, then proceeded around the long table and placed the tray down.
“D’you mind if I sit here, Commander?” he asked in a hesitant tone.
Inga nodded and offered a nervous smile. “Not at all, Nigel. Please - have a seat.”
Nigel did so, and began spreading Vegemite on toast before digging into his sausage and eggs. The two maintained an uneasy silence for several minutes.
Inga decided to break the silence. “How is Jack doing?”
Nigel shrugged. “Better, I guess. He’s still in the station’s infirmary. As soon as he’s well enough, he’ll be transferred back to Earth to face charges.”
“Oh.” There didn’t seem to be much else Inga could say without venturing into painful areas. She decided to change the subject.
“The stop-loss order has been rescinded,” remarked Inga in a conversational tone.
“Has it?” replied Bane between bites. “That’s interesting.” More silence.
Strauss decided to go out on a limb. “The Captain told me that you offered your resignation.”
Bane didn’t say anything for a moment. He took a sip of tea, and then nodded. “That’s true.”
“Why would you do that?” she asked.
Nigel didn’t say anything for a moment as he chewed his food thoughtfully. Finally, he placed his fork and knife on his plate and slid the tray aside. He leaned forward to speak.
“Inga, I violated my oath as an officer by withholding information about Jack’s Syndicate connection. That’s no small matter.” His voice was quiet, tinged with guilt and frustration.
“Nigel, there were extenuating circumstances! He’s your brother, for God’s sake! And you did reveal his connection and helped capture a rogue ship – that’s no small thing.”
“And almost got you killed in the process!” he said sharply, the emotion breaking through.
Gott im Himmel! She thought. That’s what this is all about. “Nigel – look at me! I’m a big girl! I survived a tour during the Dominion war and nearly having the Thunderchild blown up under me. Our first officer was killed and suddenly I’m an XO at age 28!” She reached across the narrow table and gently placed her hand on his face. “I do appreciate your concern for me – it’s very sweet but it’s misplaced. I’m a Starfleet officer and capable of making my own decisions regarding my safety. I was in command of this ship when we went after the Greeley. It was my decision that we go on board.”
He shook his head. “I should never have let you.”
She rose and looked at him with a mix of affection and irritation. “Do us both a favor, Nigel. Get over this and get your head straight! I know you care for me . . . and I have deep feelings for you also. But we can’t let our feelings interfere with our duty. If you can’t understand that, well . . . we may not have a future.” She picked up her tray to leave. “My shift’s about to start. Think about what I said.”
Nigel watched her leave the wardroom. He picked up a piece of toast, looked at it, and tossed it back on the tray, his appetite gone.
* * *
“Your ribs have healed nicely, Captain, but you’re going to experience some residual pain and stiffness for some time to come. I hate to break it to you, but you’re not a young man any more,” said Dr. Castille as he folded the medical scanner.
“What an astute observation,” said Akinola, dryly. “When can I start working out again?”
Castille pulled a large analgesic patch out of a cabinet and applied it to Akinola’s side. “You can start back with stretching and maybe some katas, but no contact sparring! I‘m serious, Captain – you let Brin or some young buck poke you in the side and you’ll be right back in a bio-bed! Take it slow and easy. If you get a little sore, that’s okay. If your side starts to throb, you’ve over-done it. Understood?”
Akinola nodded and pulled his under shirt back on. “Got it. Thanks, Doc.”
“Don’t mention it.” Castille jammed his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. He frowned and stared at the deck in obvious thought. He directed his gaze back up at Akinola “I hear the stop-loss order has expired.”
“Rescinded,” corrected Akinola. “You heard right.”
Castille sighed and shook his head. “I was afraid of that. It looks like we’re going to lose Rice, then.”
“Oh?”
Castille nodded. “Yeah. She wants to go to medical school. Part of me is very pleased – she’s got what it takes to make a fine physician, but I hate to lose her – she’s a damn good corpsman.”
“That she is, Doc.” And so it begins, Akinola thought.
* * *
Akinola left the gym, heading for his quarters and a shower. Rank hath its privileges, he mused, anticipating a steaming-hot shower. His quarters had a combination water/sonic shower. He seldom used the water feature, and only when they were in port, but there were fewer things that felt better than steaming-hot water to relieve sore muscles.
After a quick but restorative shower, he dressed in his uniform and headed out of his quarters to begin his duty shift. He hoped to have the Bluefin under way within the hour.
He stepped onto the turbo-lift which was already occupied by Lt. Delta Simms, decked out in an engineering jumpsuit with the sleeves pushed up. Her curly hair was askew and a steak of grease hid some of the freckles that traversed her nose. Simms was a cute red-head from Alabama who had started on the Bluefin as the beta-shift helm officer, but her knack for all things mechanical caught the eye of Chief Engineer Gralt and she found herself transferred to engineering.
“Mornin’ Captain,” she said in her pleasant drawl.
Akinola smiled and nodded. “Lieutenant. Been busy this morning, have you?”
Simms smiled in return, “Yes sir. We’ve been upgradin’ the engines on the Stallions. Kind of a messy job, but all four Stallions are good to go now.” The Star Stallions were auxiliary spacecraft larger than Type-10 shuttles, but smaller than runabouts. They were the work horses of the Border Service, often used in rescue operations when transporters were not practical. What the Stallions lacked in creature comforts, they made up for with powerful impulse engines, tractor beams and torpedo launchers.
“Good! Glad to hear it,” replied Akinola as the lift stopped. The two officers stepped out of the lift car and onto the bridge. Simms walked to the aft engineering station and logged in. Akinola settled into the center seat. He noted with satisfaction that the alpha-shift bridge crew was in place and busy.
* * *
25 January 2377
Seattle, North America, Earth
The home of T’Ser’s parents – Sarnok and T’San
0745 local time
T’Ser held the steaming mug of tea in her hands, savoring the warmth as she stood on the upper deck of her parent’s houseboat. The sweat shirt and jeans she wore provided scant protection from the wintry mix of snow and sleet that fell on her. But the cold, while biting, helped her focus her thoughts.
She had been home on leave for nearly a month. Captain Akinola had granted her three months to return to Earth to “mull things over.” In truth, she was still undecided as to her future and wondered if three months or three years would be enough to give her clarity. Her recent past, in her estimation, was still a confusing jumble of events and emotions that she found difficult to untangle. The death of Dale McBride, the Bluefin’s former XO and the love of her life had been hard enough. But then, her mentor and friend, Dr. Calvin Baxter had also died under mysterious circumstances. And most recently, Sarnek, her one-time antagonist had wanted to enter into a relationship with her! It dawned on her that while on the Bluefin she might never get her head straight. Captain Akinola had been kind enough to give her time away, even suggesting that she consider a transfer to another ship.
T’Ser took a sip of the hot tea, enjoying the warmth of the sweet liquid as it went down her throat. The idea of leaving the Bluefin had not occurred to her before. She had served on the elderly cutter for more than seven years. It had been “home” to her – even more so than here in Seattle where she had grown up. Now, though . . .
The sound of the door opening interrupted her thoughts. She turned to see her father, Sarnok, step out onto the snow covered deck. He was wearing a parka with the hood pulled up over his head and his hands jammed into deep pockets. He walked over to T’Ser, a kind expression on his face.
“So daughter, have you forgotten how to dress for winter?”
She regarded him with an affectionate smile. “No, Dad. I’ve just been enjoying the snow and the solitude.” She looked out over the other houseboats and the moored boats and sailing vessels covered in a thin veil of white. “It’s very peaceful here.”
He nodded, “Yes, it is. Your mother and I are fortunate to have found this place. It is so very different from Vulcan.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Well, you and Mom are very different from most Vulcans,” she said, playfully.
He smiled. “True, true.” His expression became more serious. “Have you found what you’re seeking, T’Ser?”
She sighed and looked back out over the water. “Not yet,” she admitted, “But I think to find my future, I’ll have to move on from my past.”
* * *
After T’Ser’s parents left for work, T’Ser sat on the bed of the tiny guest room, PADD in hand. After staring at it for several minutes, she accessed the Star Fleet net and searched until she found a particular e-form. Before her, on the softly glowing screen, was the heading: “REQUEST FOR DUTY REASSIGNMENT.”
* * *
Chapter One
Stardate 54068.2 (25 January 2377)
USS Bluefin
Star Station Echo – Berth 14
Captain’s log – Stardate 54068.2. The past few weeks have been blessedly uneventful. Outside of one routine rescue mission and two supply runs, we’ve enjoyed a bit of down-time following the Bluefin’s encounter with a rogue Starfleet vessel and my own journey to Verex III. I think Admiral Bateson has calmed down a bit too. He seemed his old, friendly self when he called with the news this morning – Starfleet’s stop-loss order has been rescinded. I guess we can now say that the war is truly over. There is a down-side, however. Many good, experienced people will be resigning from Starfleet and also from the Border Service over the next few months. I fear we may lose some good people from the Bluefin. If so, I wish them all the best.
This morning we head out on routine patrol near the Klingon border and the Molari Badlands. At present, there are no reports of unusual pirate activity but we are entering a period of more intense ion storms. I hope both the freighter captains and the smugglers have the good sense to avoid the badlands for a while.
Captain Joseph Akinola took a sip of coffee, and spoke again. “Computer, save log entry and close.”
Acknowledged, replied the computer.
Akinola reached forward to set the coffee mug on his desk and winced as pain shot through his left side. He sat back in the chair with a wry expression on his face. Obviously, his ribs and chest muscles were not quite healed, despite the ministrations of the Eschaton’s fine medic, and the follow-up treatment by Dr. Castille. Akinola had received a brutal beating at the hands of Lortho Elix and three of his henchmen the previous month. Lortho was a prince in the Orion Syndicate – heir apparent to the Elix cartel. Akinola smiled as he recalled how he had meted out more punishment than he received. Still, at 60 years of age, the old cutter skipper didn’t heal as quickly as when he was a young man. With a grunt, he stood from the chair and reluctantly headed toward sick bay.
* * *
Commander Inga Strauss, the young executive officer of the Bluefin, sat in the ward room, finishing her breakfast of mixed fruit and a cup of Raktajino. The door slid open and Lt. Nigel Bane entered, carrying a tray of food. He hesitated when he saw Inga, then proceeded around the long table and placed the tray down.
“D’you mind if I sit here, Commander?” he asked in a hesitant tone.
Inga nodded and offered a nervous smile. “Not at all, Nigel. Please - have a seat.”
Nigel did so, and began spreading Vegemite on toast before digging into his sausage and eggs. The two maintained an uneasy silence for several minutes.
Inga decided to break the silence. “How is Jack doing?”
Nigel shrugged. “Better, I guess. He’s still in the station’s infirmary. As soon as he’s well enough, he’ll be transferred back to Earth to face charges.”
“Oh.” There didn’t seem to be much else Inga could say without venturing into painful areas. She decided to change the subject.
“The stop-loss order has been rescinded,” remarked Inga in a conversational tone.
“Has it?” replied Bane between bites. “That’s interesting.” More silence.
Strauss decided to go out on a limb. “The Captain told me that you offered your resignation.”
Bane didn’t say anything for a moment. He took a sip of tea, and then nodded. “That’s true.”
“Why would you do that?” she asked.
Nigel didn’t say anything for a moment as he chewed his food thoughtfully. Finally, he placed his fork and knife on his plate and slid the tray aside. He leaned forward to speak.
“Inga, I violated my oath as an officer by withholding information about Jack’s Syndicate connection. That’s no small matter.” His voice was quiet, tinged with guilt and frustration.
“Nigel, there were extenuating circumstances! He’s your brother, for God’s sake! And you did reveal his connection and helped capture a rogue ship – that’s no small thing.”
“And almost got you killed in the process!” he said sharply, the emotion breaking through.
Gott im Himmel! She thought. That’s what this is all about. “Nigel – look at me! I’m a big girl! I survived a tour during the Dominion war and nearly having the Thunderchild blown up under me. Our first officer was killed and suddenly I’m an XO at age 28!” She reached across the narrow table and gently placed her hand on his face. “I do appreciate your concern for me – it’s very sweet but it’s misplaced. I’m a Starfleet officer and capable of making my own decisions regarding my safety. I was in command of this ship when we went after the Greeley. It was my decision that we go on board.”
He shook his head. “I should never have let you.”
She rose and looked at him with a mix of affection and irritation. “Do us both a favor, Nigel. Get over this and get your head straight! I know you care for me . . . and I have deep feelings for you also. But we can’t let our feelings interfere with our duty. If you can’t understand that, well . . . we may not have a future.” She picked up her tray to leave. “My shift’s about to start. Think about what I said.”
Nigel watched her leave the wardroom. He picked up a piece of toast, looked at it, and tossed it back on the tray, his appetite gone.
* * *
“Your ribs have healed nicely, Captain, but you’re going to experience some residual pain and stiffness for some time to come. I hate to break it to you, but you’re not a young man any more,” said Dr. Castille as he folded the medical scanner.
“What an astute observation,” said Akinola, dryly. “When can I start working out again?”
Castille pulled a large analgesic patch out of a cabinet and applied it to Akinola’s side. “You can start back with stretching and maybe some katas, but no contact sparring! I‘m serious, Captain – you let Brin or some young buck poke you in the side and you’ll be right back in a bio-bed! Take it slow and easy. If you get a little sore, that’s okay. If your side starts to throb, you’ve over-done it. Understood?”
Akinola nodded and pulled his under shirt back on. “Got it. Thanks, Doc.”
“Don’t mention it.” Castille jammed his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. He frowned and stared at the deck in obvious thought. He directed his gaze back up at Akinola “I hear the stop-loss order has expired.”
“Rescinded,” corrected Akinola. “You heard right.”
Castille sighed and shook his head. “I was afraid of that. It looks like we’re going to lose Rice, then.”
“Oh?”
Castille nodded. “Yeah. She wants to go to medical school. Part of me is very pleased – she’s got what it takes to make a fine physician, but I hate to lose her – she’s a damn good corpsman.”
“That she is, Doc.” And so it begins, Akinola thought.
* * *
Akinola left the gym, heading for his quarters and a shower. Rank hath its privileges, he mused, anticipating a steaming-hot shower. His quarters had a combination water/sonic shower. He seldom used the water feature, and only when they were in port, but there were fewer things that felt better than steaming-hot water to relieve sore muscles.
After a quick but restorative shower, he dressed in his uniform and headed out of his quarters to begin his duty shift. He hoped to have the Bluefin under way within the hour.
He stepped onto the turbo-lift which was already occupied by Lt. Delta Simms, decked out in an engineering jumpsuit with the sleeves pushed up. Her curly hair was askew and a steak of grease hid some of the freckles that traversed her nose. Simms was a cute red-head from Alabama who had started on the Bluefin as the beta-shift helm officer, but her knack for all things mechanical caught the eye of Chief Engineer Gralt and she found herself transferred to engineering.
“Mornin’ Captain,” she said in her pleasant drawl.
Akinola smiled and nodded. “Lieutenant. Been busy this morning, have you?”
Simms smiled in return, “Yes sir. We’ve been upgradin’ the engines on the Stallions. Kind of a messy job, but all four Stallions are good to go now.” The Star Stallions were auxiliary spacecraft larger than Type-10 shuttles, but smaller than runabouts. They were the work horses of the Border Service, often used in rescue operations when transporters were not practical. What the Stallions lacked in creature comforts, they made up for with powerful impulse engines, tractor beams and torpedo launchers.
“Good! Glad to hear it,” replied Akinola as the lift stopped. The two officers stepped out of the lift car and onto the bridge. Simms walked to the aft engineering station and logged in. Akinola settled into the center seat. He noted with satisfaction that the alpha-shift bridge crew was in place and busy.
* * *
25 January 2377
Seattle, North America, Earth
The home of T’Ser’s parents – Sarnok and T’San
0745 local time
T’Ser held the steaming mug of tea in her hands, savoring the warmth as she stood on the upper deck of her parent’s houseboat. The sweat shirt and jeans she wore provided scant protection from the wintry mix of snow and sleet that fell on her. But the cold, while biting, helped her focus her thoughts.
She had been home on leave for nearly a month. Captain Akinola had granted her three months to return to Earth to “mull things over.” In truth, she was still undecided as to her future and wondered if three months or three years would be enough to give her clarity. Her recent past, in her estimation, was still a confusing jumble of events and emotions that she found difficult to untangle. The death of Dale McBride, the Bluefin’s former XO and the love of her life had been hard enough. But then, her mentor and friend, Dr. Calvin Baxter had also died under mysterious circumstances. And most recently, Sarnek, her one-time antagonist had wanted to enter into a relationship with her! It dawned on her that while on the Bluefin she might never get her head straight. Captain Akinola had been kind enough to give her time away, even suggesting that she consider a transfer to another ship.
T’Ser took a sip of the hot tea, enjoying the warmth of the sweet liquid as it went down her throat. The idea of leaving the Bluefin had not occurred to her before. She had served on the elderly cutter for more than seven years. It had been “home” to her – even more so than here in Seattle where she had grown up. Now, though . . .
The sound of the door opening interrupted her thoughts. She turned to see her father, Sarnok, step out onto the snow covered deck. He was wearing a parka with the hood pulled up over his head and his hands jammed into deep pockets. He walked over to T’Ser, a kind expression on his face.
“So daughter, have you forgotten how to dress for winter?”
She regarded him with an affectionate smile. “No, Dad. I’ve just been enjoying the snow and the solitude.” She looked out over the other houseboats and the moored boats and sailing vessels covered in a thin veil of white. “It’s very peaceful here.”
He nodded, “Yes, it is. Your mother and I are fortunate to have found this place. It is so very different from Vulcan.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Well, you and Mom are very different from most Vulcans,” she said, playfully.
He smiled. “True, true.” His expression became more serious. “Have you found what you’re seeking, T’Ser?”
She sighed and looked back out over the water. “Not yet,” she admitted, “But I think to find my future, I’ll have to move on from my past.”
* * *
After T’Ser’s parents left for work, T’Ser sat on the bed of the tiny guest room, PADD in hand. After staring at it for several minutes, she accessed the Star Fleet net and searched until she found a particular e-form. Before her, on the softly glowing screen, was the heading: “REQUEST FOR DUTY REASSIGNMENT.”
* * *
Man, there's nothing I like better than settling into a Bluefin story with a glass of wine and a crackling fire. Of course, tonight I'm sans wine and fire, but damn it, I'm still enjoying the hell out of this story. You know you're doing a terrific job writing when the simple character moments between your crewmembers are completely engaging and absorbing. Damn fine stuff.
