Tales Of The Storyteller: Adirondack

[Sovereign_One]

With all the shorter stories proliferating now, I can't keep up with them all, so I'll keep them in a single thread and make new threads for the longer pieces.

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This series focuses on Captain Sydney Satterwhite, commanding officer of the Intrepid-class USS Adirondack. This is her first command, and events can swing from the mundane to the downright dangerous and back. Many of these stories are told by Sydney herself, while other characters may chime in once in a while.

 

[Sovereign_One]

"Stand And Wait"




Commander Sydney Satterwhite, Personal Log, Stardate 48232.7


Pack your stuff, girlfriend. Say goodbye to your Captain and await further orders.

That's basically what the message said. Twelve days out from Earth the Toledo was ordered to drop me off at Armaden Station before heading home to be decommissioned. I wanted to be there when the end came, to say goodbye to what mess hall snickering called the Ghost Ship, since she had a habit of bumping off her first officers. I was the last to be bumped off, so to speak. I guess Command thought my presence there was no longer necessary, and it was sufficient for Captain Mishenko to carry on with a skeleton crew.

So I sit and I wait. It's been three days and nothing from Command.

I wish I could see Mishenko off to her next assignment, the Scion. I was her First Officer for four years and I'll really miss her. She was my rock and my friend. For her to look to me for advice on command decisions felt a bit strange at times, though that was basically my job. She's a thirty-year veteran, highly decorated and commended. And I felt wet behind the ears. I shouldn't feel that way. But it took something like the Vesper explosion to remind me I still had a long way to go before I felt comfortable in the Captain's chair, even if I was just minding the store when Mishenko was gone. I fell to pieces, she picked me up from the floor and dusted me off. And tried to convince me I had done good. The two hundred twelve I had rescued were testament to that, she said.

I want to tell a story, but not that one. Every time I make some kind of transition in my life, I go back to my time on the Pennsylvania. A lot of days were from Hell, but I sort of remember it like you'd remember a teacher who had been particularly hard and hard on you. You didn't care for the experience, but that person got more out of you than you thought was possible. Captain Sutek did just that, and I will forever be grateful to him.

Of course, at the time, I was in no mood to thank him for anything.

Nobody wanted to serve on the Pennsylvania. That's probably exaggerating, but not by much. You wouldn't wish that posting on your worst enemy, or your second worst. If that assignment happened to fall on you, you did everything you could to squirm out from under it, including leaving Starfleet altogether.

The Penn was a crucible. You were crushed into dust, poured out, and crushed some more for good measure. But if you were one of the lucky few (very few) to survive, you stood a good chance of becoming one of the finest officers and captains that Starfleet had ever issued a uniform to.

It's not like we were special or anything, the batch of folk I got herded in with. Not hand-picked, really, though some I wondered about. It felt like some pencil-pusher at HQ said, "I know what let's do! Let's chuck a whole mess of ensigns and lieutenants at the Transylvania and watch their heads explode!"

Yes, I said Transylvania. Because it was a horror show skidding down the rails to Hell with no stops in between. And the Devil was waiting at the end of the line. Or, rather, Captain Sutek was waiting.

Don't get me wrong, there wasn't anything wrong with the ship herself. I mean, the Penn wasn't a rusty bucket. Far from it. She was gorgeous. Excelsior-class. But whenever Sutek stepped on board, even she snapped to.

Captain Sutek. Hardcore Starfleet. Hardcore Vulcan.

He ran all his junior officers ragged, day in and day out. He was looking for us to do the wrong thing all the time, and he was spare with his praise. You never knew where you stood with him unless you did something particularly stupid. He'd stand there and take you in with one look. Then he raises one exquisitely upswept eyebrow and leaves. He did that whether we did good or messed up. And he made sure I got a good look at his profile before he went. That was his way of saying to me, "I won't ever let up on you, not even for a minute."

I found out his first name in Vulcan one day. Took me four years to learn how to say it correctly. I was so angry at him one time I threw it in his face, and it was perfect. I thought. He fixed me with those steel gray eyes of his. I thought I was gonna melt through the deck. He simply said "impressive" and dismissed me. And I still got a reprimand the next day.

After a brutal six-month stretch, he called me into his ready room. He gave me a problem to solve, an old Vulcan conundrum. They can't be solved with any existing mathematical system to anyone's satisfaction, but I didn't know that. Then he sent me on my way. After six more months of Hell he called me back in. He always kept his ready room fairly dark and spooky. And there was this one light that shown on the wall behind his desk. He sat in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him.

"Do you remember the question I asked you six months ago, Lieutenant?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

I had used all of my spare time to work on it. I had given up on it a few minutes before he called me in.

"Do you have the answer?"

I looked him in the eye--which in hindsight may not have been the smartest thing to do to a Vulcan--and said, point-blank, "No, sir."

I could feel that eyebrow going up.

"No?"

"I do not have the answer, sir." I got that "melting through the deck" feeling again.

"No explanations to offer?"

"Sir, you once told me you would brook no negligence, inattention to detail, laziness, nor excuses. I have no excuses to give."

"I said 'explanations', not 'excuses', Lieutenant."

"Then I have no explanations, either, sir."

"Interesting."

He said that like he knew something I didn't. I made it my personal mission early on to be at least one step ahead of Sutek. The best I'd been able to do was get within five steps behind him.

He folded his hands in front of him and sat forward in his chair. He started in what I thought was going to be his you-know-what-your-problem-is-Human tone. But he surprised me.

"That is what I was expecting from you."

I was totally blown away, shocked.

He then said, "I have asked that same question to every one of my junior officers, and you are the only one who told me that they did not know the answer. The others told me what they thought I wanted to hear and gave me elaborate explanations for concepts they had not the slightest grasp of."

Now came the you-know-what-your-problem-is-Human tone.

"On a daily basis I am confronted by a typical phenomenon among Humans called ego. A highly exaggerated sense of self-importance. So exaggerated that one cannot only not fail, but not appear to fail. It even goes as far as believing one is too important, too indispensable to fail. Failure is always a real possibility. One can minimize the odds of it occurring, but it is there nonetheless. I often sense from my younger officers that they believe I create an atmosphere on this ship where one failure can be the death-knell of one's career. Preposterous. Not admitting failure or being boldly dishonest about it will always get my attention and bring reproach. It is a very deadly trap to fall into, yet you did not fall. You told me--and have told me--how things are and not how they should appear to me."

Shortly after that I was promoted, and not long after that I was appointed First Officer to fill that recently emptied position, where I served for three years.

The answer to the question wasn't really all that important. It was whether I could admit I don't know all the answers, and If I could put Sydney Satterwhite and her need to be right or else far enough into the background. I won't get it right all the time. I'll mess up pretty badly at times. But at least I'm woman enough to admit my mistakes and try to get it right.

Sutek had no ego to bruise. I do.

Honesty was extremely important to him. It went without saying that he expected it from us, especially in the little things. The little things didn't matter all that much to us, though. We just kept our heads down and prayed to whatever deity or deities we revered to get us out of this command. The first one of us that wasn't sloppy (wasn't dishonest) with the details would get his full attention. And boy, did I get it.

Which is also why he asked the question. To make sure I was what I presented myself to be. From that moment, I didn't dare disappoint him.

I wonder what Sutek would say at a moment like this, while I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Have I disappointed him? Have I lived up to his expectations? I imagine he would have been standing with me at the viewport watching the Toledo leave her berth for her last journey home.

"One door has closed, and another has opened," he'd probably say.

And I'd probably sigh softly at his being cryptic again. "What door, sir?"

"The door to your destiny, Commander."

"I'm destined to stand and wait for another assignment and then be off to who knows where."

"I know where you will be."

"I know you do, sir, and your expectations for me have always been too high. Why do you always seem to see things I don't?"

Then he'd turn to look at me with those gray eyes. They had softened a bit in the years I was his Number One. But in the beginning, those same eyes put the fear of God into a very green young Ensign. The Lieutenant had gotten a bit braver.

"I do not see that which is not there," he'd continue. "Can you not understand that where you are, what you have become, is because of what lives inside you?"

"I am what I am because of you. Your mentoring, your training, and your teachings."

"My teachings would not have taken hold if the soil they were planted in were not fertile."

We'd go back and forth, on and on. But then Sutek would slice to the very heart of the thing and embarrass the living daylights out of me.

"You are destined to become one of the finest Captains in Starfleet. A precious jewel in the crown. And I look forward to witnessing what will unfold before you."

I'd have absolutely nothing to say to that. My face would get as red as my dark skin would allow and I'd turn way from him, unable to take the weight of his gaze or of his predictions for my future. A future a Vulcan had supreme confidence in, and that I, the Human, did not.

I can almost feel Sutek nearby now, as if he were standing behind my shoulder. Both of us waiting, with trepidation on my part and certainty on his. Waiting for that door to open.

End log.

 

[Sovereign_One]

This is a follow-up to "Stand and Wait"
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"Send-Off"




For the fifth time, Sydney tried to attach the fourth pip to her collar. She needed to put it on before boarding the shuttle and definitely have it on before reaching Starbase 168.

Behind her on the bed in her stateroom, her bags were packed and waiting. The Armaden Station dockmaster notified her of the shuttle Esty's arrival nearly fifteen minutes ago. Since then, she struggled to complete this one simple task. She held the insignia to her collar to join it with the other three pips that resided there. Her eyes momentarily flicked up to her image in the vanity mirror. Sighing softly, she lowered her hand and rolled the emblem between thumb and forefinger.

She continued looking into the mirror, studying the face before her. Her features hadn't changed between then and fifteen minutes ago, or that morning, or two days ago.

I'm still Sydney Shelby Satterwhite. Momma's "Shelly Belle" and Daddy's "Baby Girl".

No...I'm someone else now.

I am Captain Sydney Shelby Satterwhite, commanding officer of the Federation Starship USS Adirondack.

So I had better start acting like it.

The communique from Command announcing her promotion came just before Sydney got into bed for the night two days ago. This was shortly followed by congratulations and new orders from Admiral Hepburn, her new superior. After not being able to sleep for three hours, she received several large packets of data from Captain Stewart, the Adirondack's current CO, whom she would relieve of command once she arrived at 168. The packets contained every performance review of every system of the Intrepid-class ship for the seven-month duration of her shakedown, crew manifests and evals, stores inventories, department status reports, requests for personnel, equipment, and working space from said departments, and dozens of other documents. She didn't get to bed again until 1213 hours the next day.

When she woke up, Sydney called home and told her parents the news. On the viewscreen, they cried through "we're so proud of you" and "we love you", while Big Momma, who had been visiting, screamed and danced for joy in the background.

Sydney laughed and joked, "tell that Hetterford woman to sit down and control herself."

Big Momma bent over Daddy's shoulder and said to the screen in mock-offense, "now that's not how a newly-minted starship captain is supposed to act! Ordering her grandmother around--ha!"

Sydney was still laughing long after the call had ended, and she returned to reading reports. When she took a break, she sent a quick message to her sister Savannah, promising to call once she was settled in and had a little more time.

After a fitful night of sleep, it was time to go. A small box containing a single gold pip arrived just after she had finished packing. She opened it and stared at the tiny emblem. Part of her wasn't yet comfortable about possessing it, about what it would mean to wear it. But she felt the changes beginning. The data cramming of the past 48 hours didn't seem so alien to her now, and a growing pride had begun to spread through her as she read of the Adirondack meeting or exceeding her benchmarks. The personnel evals spoke of a bright, professional, hard-working, close-knit crew crazy to get to a new mission and ready to set upon it with relish and zeal.

The excitement overcame her reticence as she went to the mirror to pin on the insignia.

But it didn't last long. The doubts whispered, and she hesitated. And continued to hesitate once she was told the Esty had docked.

Sydney gritted her teeth, put the emblem back in its box, and shoved it into a trouser pocket. One last look at her image, then she picked up her luggage and left.

She made her way through the station's teeming concourse to the outer lower docking sections. Entering the Docking Port 75 corridor, she passed a small group of people looking out a viewport. It stretched from a meter above the floor to rise in a curve overhead, showing several levels of docking facilities rising high above. She stopped behind the observers and looked up. Connected to the highest docking level was the huge looming form of a Galaxy-class starship. She read the registry number on the underside of the vessel's oblong saucer, and her jaw dropped open in shock.

NCC-79867...the Ithaca...it can't be...

When Sydney recovered, the group had moved away to her left, back toward the main concourse. She was still giving questioning glances up to the Ithaca, when she became aware of a familiar presence nearby. Eleven years still had not completely prepared her for its arrival, as the powerful aura seemed to enter a room long before its possessor could ever be seen. Yet, it had become comfortable, even welcome.

She gathered a bit of courage and turned to her right. At the end of the corridor, an airlock stood open, showing the interior of a type-8 shuttle beyond. In front of the portal, a young woman in a Starfleet uniform waited, along with someone else. The man, also in a Starfleet uniform, turned his tall frame toward Sydney's direction. His calm demeanor and Vulcan imperturbability could not totally hide his pleasure at seeing her.

Sutek.

The young woman noticed Sydney and quickly came over.

"Captain Satterwhite?"

The side of Sydney's neck twitched. "That's me."

"Ensign Nuñez, sir. I'll be taking you to Starbase 168."

"Ensign." She drew a careful breath. "Starfleet protocol aside, I prefer to be addressed as 'Captain' or 'ma'am'."

"Yes, ma'am."

Sydney glanced over the Ensign's shoulder at Sutek.

"How long has he been standing there?"

"About as long as I have," Nuñez said. "A friend of yours, ma'am?"

"Yes."

"I'll take your luggage aboard."

"Thank you."

Still looking at the Vulcan, Sydney relinquished her bags to Nuñez. Sutek stepped aside and bowed his head slightly to the Ensign as she entered the airlock. He then turned his gaze back upon Sydney. She couldn't find the means to move, or speak, or wave hello. Even at that distance, it was Sutek's eyes that took all of her attention. He blinked, then moved toward her. Any other time, Sydney couldn't look him in the face for too long. This time was different. She never thought it was possible, but as he drew closer, she saw so many things those gray eyes. Warmth, comradeship, admiration, understanding, fondness. And pride. Overwhelming, unabashed pride. She could not dishonor that by looking away.

Sutek stopped in front of Sydney and studied her in silence. There was nothing for either of them to say.

After what felt like the passing of centuries, Sutek spoke.

"It is agreeable to see you again...Number One."

Sydney couldn't help but break out into a smile. Her former CO didn't appear to mind such a blatant emotional display.

"It's...good to see you, too, sir," she said. "It's been a long time."

"Four years, three months, fifteen days, seven hours, thirty-three minutes, and forty point seven-six seconds."

"So accurate."

Sutek raised an eyebrow. "Of course."

She restrained an urge to reach for her collar. "When did you find out?"

"Five point three-six days ago."

"That was nearly the time I was dropped off here. Making sure they dotted the 'I's and crossed the 'T's before telling me, I bet."

"The ways of Command are mysterious to behold."

Captain Sutek had several connections in Command itself, so it didn't surprise Sydney that he knew of her promotion and assignment before she did. She actually thought it was better that he did know beforehand, to save her the task of telling him while still in shock from the speed of events taking place.

"So," she continued, "Why are you here, if I might ask?"

"Taking on four new crewmembers, disembarking five, and receiving seven civilians and their equipment to be taken to the Jolark IV polar laboratories."

"No shore leave?"

"The next opportunity for shore leave will be at our next destination."

"Hmm. The most direct way to Jolark IV is by way of...Starbase 168. How coincidental. But by the time you arrive there, I'll be gone." She glanced up through the viewport at Sutek's ship docked above. "So, the Ithaca is your lady now?"

He followed her gaze. "For the past two point seven-nine years. She is quite different from the Pennsylvania. More 'easy-going' and not as intent to have her way."

Grinning, Sydney nodded at his comment. Her first job on the Pennsylvania--an elegant Excelsior--was as helmsman, and the ship let her know very early in her tenure who was the boss. Sydney accepted that and treated her with respect; the Penn put her trust in the young Ensign and proudly lived out the name of her class.

The two Captains faced one another.

"Who did they give the Penn to?" Sydney said.

"Commander Lutan Hon'shyll. An inside promotion."

"My replacement. She's in good hands, then."

Both Vulcan eyebrows rose this time. "No one could replace my most excellent First Officer, only succeed her."

Sudden tingling in her cheeks forced Sydney to cover them and the new smile that was forming.

"And my former Number One," Sutek continued, "needs to learn to accept compliments from her former commanding officer."

Then, Sydney became very conscious of her incorrect insignia. She went into her pocket and withdrew the box holding the last pip.

"Um...would you...could you...please?"

She opened the box to show its contents. Faint confusion flickered across Sutek's face, then he understood. He picked up the tiny emblem and attached it to Sydney's collar, performing the simple act with all the solemnity reserved for a ceremony in front of Starfleet top brass and Federation officials.

"I have never done this for any of my protégés when they reached Captain," he said, stepping back. "Until now. Thank you."

Any remaining discomfort she had about wearing that fourth pip slipped away. For certain, there would be times that pip would feel like the weight of the world, but this was not that time. Now, it felt real. It felt right.

Sydney recalled what she said to Sutek years ago, when he pinned the third pip on her collar for her promotion to lieutenant commander.

"I come to serve."

Sutek bowed. "Your service honors me."

"And you honor me, sir."

"We are equals in rank," he said. "It is not required for you address me in that manner."

"I choose to."

"Then, so be it...ma'am."

And somehow, that, too, felt right.

Sutek moved to one side and favored Sydney with the barest hint of a closed-lipped smile. "May I escort you to your shuttle, Captain?"

The power of speech left Sydney once more. She acknowledged his offer with a nod and walked with him to the airlock.

 

[Sovereign_One]

I originally wrote this for the Ad Astra Signature Challenge.

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"Dealing With It"




Captain Sydney Satterwhite, Personal Log, supplemental. 0525 hours.


He's there again. At the house. Who invited him? Sitting on the steps all comfortable and happy. I half expect Momma to come out on the porch and hand him a glass of iced tea. She's always doing that. Mrs. Hospitality.

But I'm more upset about the guy sitting on the front steps than about anything Momma would do. I walk up the path and cross my arms over my chest in my best "who the hell do you think you are" pose. He looks up at me and doesn't seem one bit put out.

"Don't you have somewhere else to go?" I say, getting madder every second.

"Not until you deal with me, Sydney," he says, calm and cool.

"Deal with you? All I know is your name."

"Too bad. You would have liked me. I'm a likable kind of guy."

"I'm sure."

"You're already used to me being here, so I don't know what the big deal is."

That really gets me hot.

"Look, I didn't even want to be there--"

I hold up my hands as if to push his image out of my sight. "You're not going to get me involved."

He wags a finger at me. "Oh, you're involved, my dear. Inextricably. For all eternity. Well, at least as long the files remain in some database at Command."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Keep it up, Rudolph, and stop being so happy!"

"That's me," he says, opening his arms in a big welcoming gesture, "Happy Jack Rudolph, Captain of the Good Ship Vesper. Want to take a crack at it?"

"At what?"

"You know. THAT. That thing you don't want to talk about."

I glare at him and say not one word.

"Sydney, Sydney, Sydney," he says, shaking his head. "It's been almost two years now. When are you going to let it go?"

"Let it go? You died!"

"Yes, I'm very dead. Oh, let me check." He takes a hand and passes it completely through his body. "Yep, still dead!"

"I wouldn't joke about that. You weren't alone. Forty-five other people died. Forty-five members of your crew."

"Yes, they did, we did. A warp core breach. I ought to know, I was there. You know, you're taking this pretty hard for somebody who's not dead."

I want to reach out and strangle him, but what's the use? "I showed up to make sure you or any of your crew didn't die."

"And I thank you for it. The two hundred twelve people you rescued thank you for it."

"I was only the First Officer. Mishenko wasn't on board, and I just happen to be in command of the Toledo when the distress call came in."

"I'm sure the crew of the Toledo are thankful for what you did, too."

"What I did was bug out before I got everyone off the Vesper."

"And I kept telling ya we could handle it." He shrugs. "Didn't do such a good job, did we?"

"Stop making jokes!"

"I'm dead! I got all the time in the Universe, I got a million of 'em!"

Now I'm walking around in angry circles. "I bugged out because I thought--I knew--you didn't have as much time as you thought to eject the warp core."

"And I heard you when you told me," he nodded. "The ejection system malfunctioned and Engineering was working hard to get it back online. I was coordinating with you to get the rest of the crew beamed off the ship. Where's the problem here?"

Those were the facts. I couldn't refute them. But still--

"I left before I got everyone off the Vesper."

"You left because your ship was in danger. Don't you remember what I said? 'You've done all you can, now get the hell out of here'?"

Of course, I remember what he said! I can't forget.

I can never forget.

"You have to deal with me, Sydney. I'll come back. Whenever you sit in that center seat, I'll come back. It doesn't have to be this way. Let it go. Let go of the guilt. You did nothing wrong. You listened to a voice no one else has and you acted on it not only to help me, but to protect your ship and your crew. That's all that matters: your ship and your crew.

"Please let me go. I don't belong here, and you know it."

Just then, I sense someone coming up behind me. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. His calm, measured, rational voice knifes through all my doubts and fears.

"Whenever you are ready to talk, Number One, I will listen."

"I know."

Then it all disappears. The house, Rudolph, the voice. I wake up. A tingling lingers on my shoulder, as if a reassuring hand once rested there. I lie in bed staring up at the ceiling thinking, "what the hell is wrong with me?"

It's been this way for almost two years. Almost every time my head hits the pillow, some remnant of that invades my dreams. But that last part, the part were I hear the voice behind me. Tonight was the first time I ever dreamed that. Maybe I was finally ready deal with it. Ready to let Jack Rudolph go on his merry way.

It was late, 0240 hours, but I had to make contact with the Ithaca. I knew her Captain would be awake. Seeing his calm face come up on the screen made what I needed to do a little easier.

"This is Sutek. What can I do for you, Captain?"

"I need to talk."

 

[Sovereign_One]

Okay, new one. This is a companion piece for "Send-Off"

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"The Other Half Of Me"



Dr. Savannah Satterwhite, Personal Log, Stardate 48242.8



Well, she done gone and did it! My sister, my girl, my roommate in utero, has gone and made Captain! Whoo-la! That's my girl!

I don't know how long I was yelling and screaming and I didn't care. I said, Savannah Sharon, you have to tell everybody. The only person on the Faraday I didn't tell was Gleason, and he was on his honeymoon!

I knew it was only a matter of time. How could anybody watch Sydney in action and not make her a Captain? Those pointy heads at Command don't know what they're doing half the time.

I might look at this later and realize how prejudicial it all reads. Of course, I'm prejudicial, she's my sister!

Captain Sydney Satterwhite. I just can't get over that. Momma and Daddy must be over the moon. Captain of the Adirondack. The ship's name doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, but I bet that name is music to Sydney's ears right now.

The Intrepids are fast and sleek and smart. A perfect match for her. I know she'll want to sit at the helm. Only for a little while. I can imagine she'll be just a tiny bit jealous of her flight controller. She seems to become one with whatever ship she pilots. But she's got a much bigger job now.

My sister. The same person who can't get enough salt water taffy, hoppin' john, and five-alarm chili. The same person who hogged the blankets on cold nights. The same person who tried to keep two steps ahead of Old Man Tolliver's dog when walking...running to Big Momma and Big Daddy's house.

That barelegged little girl playing down by the creek behind the farm, up to her knees in mud. Well, shoot, we both were barelegged in the mud, trying to catch tadpoles. How Momma could ever tell us apart after a day of playing, I don't know. All cleaned up, we were two peas in a pod. Exactly the same face.

But somehow Momma knew, even from the beginning, before our personalities came out. Sydney was always more introspective, while I think outside my brain, so to speak. She turned out to be the storyteller in the family, while I talk too fast for anybody to understand me. That's fine; sometimes I can't catch up to myself, either.

Right away she took the big sister role, though she was born only three minutes before me. She really liked having this other person with her that looked just like her. I wasn't crazy about being dressed alike and every other cutesie thing done to identical twins. I made sure to wear something that was glaringly different: mismatched shoes with pink laces, different bandannas, one sock that was shorter than the other. I begged Momma to let me color my hair when I got old enough, and I still color it to this day.

Sydney was so happy when our little sister Neesee was born. She had two little sisters to love then. The family was so heartbroken when she died, only nine years old. But her death affected Sydney the most, if that was possible. Afterwards, you couldn't separate us. She'd never go anywhere without me, was never beyond sight or earshot. This lasted all through junior high and high school. With Neesee gone, she clung onto me that much harder. Didn't want anything to happen to me. Didn't want me to leave her.

Then we entered Starfleet Academy together. It wasn't easy for her at first, but she made it through. Smart girl. Little Shelly Belle became a fresh-faced, spit-shined cadet. At the end, she was packed off to the Minerva, and I entered Starfleet Medical.

I would congratulate the Academy for affecting such a transformation in Sydney, but I don't think it was all them. It does open you up, makes you see inside yourself and face who you are. I think she did that, but some remnant of the old fear was left behind and came out as anger. Not having control of anything. That's the thing about Starfleet; you go where you're needed, like it or not. But the anger eventually left, and in its place was a fine young officer. A fine First Officer.

She tried to get across to me what it was like once, being in command, but I couldn't fathom it. For me, having the life of a patient or the lives of a sickbay of patients in my hands can be overwhelming at times. But an entire ship? Even part of the time? No way I can wrap my head around that.

And now, that's her chair on that bridge now. Her ship and her crew, and everything that goes with them. I've no doubt she'll do just fine. She was trained by one of the toughest Captains in Starfleet, and you don't leave the presence of someone like Captain Sutek and not carry some of that toughness with you. She talks about how stern and unmovable he is, but I see there's a lot of respect there, a lot of appreciation. Some fondness, maybe. I don't think I would last two seconds being in the same room with him.

One thing about what she says about Sutek. According to her, he has three favorite words: "do not" and "destiny". The "do not" I can understand; I can't imagine him saying anything else with a stable full of hotheaded young officers under his charge.

Destiny. What could he know about destiny? Quite a bit, she says. He talked about she's destined for this and destined for that. How could he possibly know? She says he was very stuck on it, to the point where he thought it was his job to get her ready for it. Get her ready to command her own starship one day.

Well, I guess he was right. The next time I hear a Vulcan talk about destiny, I'll be sure to listen.

Sydney promised to call once she's settled in on the Adirondack. I can't wait to talk to her. I know she'll play it down, her excitement and everything. She's just that type of person. I wrote a little message that will be waiting for her when she gets there:

The Adirondack is your ship and you are her Captain. She depends on you now. Embrace her, love her, and cherish her for the precious jewel she is.

I think I understand a little bit now.

Love ya,
Vannah

Know ye well, this is all I can tell.

End log.

 

[Gibraltar]

Another fantastic short story in this ever expanding universe of Captain Sydney Satterwhite. This was a terrific look into her past, and the people in her family that helped to shape her prior to her being subjected to the crucible that is Captain Sutek.

I'm very much looking forward to her first adventure aboard the Adirondack.

 

[CeJay]

Your series is probably one of the most 'human' Trek fan fics I've ever read and this newest addition is just another great example.

And no, I don't mean 'human' as in 'not alien'. Fundamentally all stories we read and write are about human nature as alien nature as such doesn't really exist.

And as far as human nature is concerned, these are some of the finest examples.

Well done!

 

[mirandafave]

Nice to see things from the perspective of the sister as it actually gives real insight into Sydney, her character and motivations. Really well done stuff. A lot of depth to your pieces and real heart behind them.

 

[BrotherBenny]

I agree with all the above. I'm not sure that anyone would ever have an easy time serving under a commanding officer like Sutek, but there are teachers I'm sure many of us have had that said we're destined for something greater.

The real question is, do any of us live up to the expectations of those around us? This is the real question for Sydney, whether she believes she lives up to those expectations - and knowing that she already has.

 

[Sovereign_One]

Thanks for all the comments!

Sydney's first days on the Adirondack are coming along. A totally unplanned piece about her first days on the Pennsylvania has snuck up on me. I'm wondering if I should post it, seeing as I'm trying to go forward in this universe with all this momentum.

 

[mirandafave]

Oh no, bring it on. I think her first days on the Penn act as a nice counterpoint to those aboard her own command.

Also, the more I read it the more intrigued I am about Sutek's belief in Sydney. There may be more to this destiny lark ...

 

[Mistral]

Your series is probably one of the most 'human' Trek fan fics I've ever read and this newest addition is just another great example.

And no, I don't mean 'human' as in 'not alien'. Fundamentally all stories we read and write are about human nature as alien nature as such doesn't really exist.

And as far as human nature is concerned, these are some of the finest examples.

Well done!

I can type-but CeJay summed it up just fine for both of us.

 

[Sovereign_One]

"Captain on the Bridge!"



Captain Sydney Satterwhite, Personal Log, Stardate 48253.2, 1635 hours.


Well, I'm here.

Right now, I'm looking out the windows of my quarters. Nothing to see but the occasional ship coming or going from Starbase 168. This is the first time in the past five hours I've been still for more than five seconds. I'm sitting down now, babbling at the air, and sourly eyeing the replicator as my stomach starts to complain.

I just came from Engineering, talking shop with Captain Stewart and the Chief of Engineering, Commander Roy Stryker. They both filled me in on the testing that's been performed on the Adirondack's propulsion systems in the last week, and everything's running as sweet as you please. Commander Stryker assured me that if anything doesn't pass muster in the last round of ship-wide systems checks, it definitely won't be the warp core. I was glad to hear that, for obvious reasons. Stryker and I have something in common. Or, rather, someone. As an ensign, he served on the Norcross for the last year of Sutek's tenure as Captain. Believe me, one year with Sutek could feel like ten, and I spent eleven with him.

It was good to see Sutek at Armaden Station, after all this time. We sent messages back and forth since I left the Penn, and any live communications were few and far between. He never asked details about the peaks and valleys of my career, though I suspect he's been keeping up with them through his various channels. I don't mind. It was hard to see him standing there as a fellow Captain and not as just my ex-CO. I guess it will take a little time for me to make that change. He's definitely made the change. I saw things in his eyes I've never seen before, and deepest within them I saw--

I'm not sure what it was now. I'm probably making something out of nothing. Moving along...

I left Armaden, took nearly four hours to get to 168. Luckily, I was assigned a pilot who wasn't afraid to strike up a little conversation with her new Captain. Ensign Nuñez talked about the ship, a few things about the crew, and the excitement they managed to miss when they arrived. The Togran Flu had raged through this sector and hit 168 a month before they were due to dock. The Wretch--great nickname--had its way until enough vaccine was brought in to beat it back. 168 was closed for business until about ten days ago when the all-clear was sounded. Two days after that, the Adirondack showed up.

Nuñez was going over Adirondack's warp speed trials, when the great multi-armed wheel of Starbase 168 came into view. As we drew closer, I could make out at least ten ships snuggled up to docking arms. Nuñez brought the shuttle past a Nebula and an Akira, and I was really getting excited, looking everywhere.

Then, I saw her.

Spotlights glinted off her hull, turning her into a brilliant jewel on the black fabric of space. I was paralyzed with awe.

Poor Nuñez had to practically shake me to get my attention.

"Preparing to dock, ma'am.

"Dock? Are you kidding? I want to see her. All of her."

And that's what we did. Spent the next twenty minutes or so looking at her from every possible angle. If I could have stuck my face up against the nearest viewport, I would have. In the end, I settled for staying in my seat and gawking. At least I didn't drool. But I was close. I can see her kinship to the Sovereign: oblong saucer, primary hull flowing into the secondary hull, elongated profile. Sleek and gorgeous. If anybody calls my ship "a flying spoon", they'd better be smiling when they say it.

Once I had my fill of duranium hull work, Nuñez guided us into the shuttlebay. We were met by Commander Carl Jorgenson, Adirondack's XO. Dark-honey hair, rugged good looks, solid as a Greek column. I can already see all the greedy eyes directed his way, and not just for the most obvious reason. His service record has future captain written all over it, and I bet he has XO offers pilling up. Right now, I need him here. Next to Captain Stewart, he knows this crew the best, and I'll be leaning on him during this change of command.

Once I was shown to my quarters, I accessed my terminal for internal and external messages. Lots of welcomes from the crew. A couple of politely worded requests through Commander Jorgenson. One "Hey, You." That was from Riley, the silly girl. And a recipe. For Brunswick stew, of all things. Allegedly, the way they cooked it in Georgia, but Big Momma would know for sure. Still, I'll try it out whenever I get home. When I can get my hands on the more "exotic" ingredients. Riley probably told somebody that I like to cook. I wonder what else she told people. I smiled at Savannah's message; after I steal a nap later on, I'll talk to her.

I also got a message of congratulations from a very unusual source. Madame T'Lasa, Sutek's mother. I hate calling her just plain T'Lasa, it doesn't feel right. If I could pronounce her last name, I'd use it. Up until her retirement from Starfleet, she was a Vice Admiral. So whenever I refer to her afterward, I call her Madame. I met her twice, once before she retired and just before I left the Pennsylvania. I was quite taken aback by her. Unlike any Vulcan I've ever met, even her own son. She projects power, authority, intelligence, pride, and that "don't mess with me" aura, like Sutek does. But she kind of reminds me of Big Momma, though much less emotionally demonstrative. She's pleasant, witty, and charming. She has a coolness and tranquility that's just elegant. Sutek inherited that elegance, I think. It peeks out whenever his Captain's mantle is in place.

Both the times I met her, Madame T'Lasa wanted to know about me more than talk about herself. I found out later that I was the only other of Sutek's protégés she's personally spoken to, the other being Captain Sekel, a fellow Vulcan. I think she knows more about me than Sutek does. After the second time, I half expected her to go track down Savannah and visit Momma and Daddy! She's a great and gracious lady, and I hope to meet her again.

After I did a bit of unpacking, I commenced wandering around the ship. The first place I went: the bridge. Only three were on duty. The one seated at the conn turned around at my entrance and said sharply, "Captain on the bridge!" The suddenness of it startled me. I looked toward the other turbolift entrance, thinking Captain Stewart had arrived. Then realization sank in. "As you were," I managed to say once my heart stood down from red alert. The man who caught his Captain off-guard is the flight controller, Lt. Lester van der Rohe. Like most of the crew, he had been in his position from the very start. A deft touch at the helm that a ship like this demands. This gorgeous Intrepid-class I haven't had the opportunity to fly yet.

I'm going to be very jealous of you, Mr. van der Rohe.

I walked behind the conn station and stood in front of the command chairs. I eyed my chair and thought about trying it out, when Captain Stewart stepped onto the bridge. He quickly waved off van der Rohe before he said anything. Aaron Stewart is an engineer out of Utopia Planitia and specifically asked to take the Adirondack through her shakedown phase. The knowledge gained will be important for future improvements in the Intrepid class, but with a ship like this, I would have stayed for the long haul if it were me. But then, I wouldn't be here.

"Want to try it out?" he said, seeing me looking at the Captain's chair.

"Maybe later. I could use a tour, though."

And so we left for the grand tour. One of the first thoughts that came to me as I looked around was "don't touch anything." What I mean by that is some captains like to sail into a new command and remake everything in their own image. Some commands have no choice but to change simply because of the presence of the person in charge. The crews of the Jaress, Norcross, Pennsylvania, and Ithaca quickly discovered that when Sutek stepped on board. Sometimes, it's the ship that changes the captain. I mean, for instance, how could you not change if you're put in command of any ship named Enterprise?

But there's a couple of personnel matters I have to look into. Command, in its infinite wisdom, didn't assign a counselor to the Adirondack. But while Stewart's been here, Lt. Cmdr. Riley Crawford unofficially filled that void. She did that while being assistant science officer. How, I'm not sure, though I've seen her swing between positions like that when we both were serving on the Toledo. She's a rock-solid officer, and I'm glad she's here.

The Captain and I were on Deck 8 when we came to an intersection and nearly bumped to someone wearing Sciences blue. Too quickly I recognize the woman.

"I'm so sorry, Captain Stewart. Captain Satterwhite," she said in that smooth Old Georgia drawl of hers.

My jaw clenched. "Dr. Broadhurst," I said as civilly as I could.

She appeared to be thinking about something else to say, but only nodded in the end and went on her way. I watched her go as in my brain, several obscene statements lined up to be spoken. And went back to where they came from when Sutek's mental discipline kicked in.

"Old rival?" Stewart said.

"Worse. Family."

I knew Regina would be here. I thought I could put my feelings on the shelf, but I'm finding it hard to separate the teenager I hated from the officer I'll be serving with. I haven't seen her for fifteen years, at one of the few reunions I was able to get to. She had changed. A lot. She wasn't the elitist snob I had known, flashing around her Broadhurst name like a 10-carat fire jewel. I didn't want to believe it. I still don't.

Dang it, this puts me in a bad situation. Her father knows what's gone on between me and Regina. I love him to pieces. Even though I'm required to address him as "sir", I consider it an honor to do so. Until he corrects me and tells me to call him "Uncle Wallace" instead of "Admiral Broadhurst", with a big smile on his face. I respect him too much to exact petty vengeance upon his daughter for something she did so long ago. But coming across her path aggravated that old wound.

She's damn good at what she does, and she's been running the Materials lab while Dr. Pendergraff is under the weather. Consanguinity isn't a good reason to get her transfered out. I need her where she is. And it just galls me. This is old family business, and I have to deal with it on my own time.

But then, I already have a lot on my plate. The reason the Adirondack is at 168 in the first place is for the warp core to get one last thumbs-up before she's set loose. I'm not going to rush this just so I can be off on my first mission. I'll go talk to the folks at the base first thing in the morning to see where we are in the queue. I won't be seeing Admiral Ferrer, though; he was the among the last to get sidelined by the Wretch, and he's more or less upright now. Meanwhile, I'll have to deal with his second, Captain Multree.

I'd better move along. In about an hour and a half, command will be officially turned over to me, so I have to haul out my dress uniform.

My first command.

A sleek, smart ship, a top-notch crew...and a newly-minted Captain.

Ben vahl navun. Grant us success.

End log.

 

[Gibraltar]

An excellent first look at Sydney's new command. This was a scene a lot of us have been waiting for, where she takes the big chair for the first time. And the little 'family reunion' went just about as well as I expected. Now I'm dying to find out just what the heck Regina did to her as teenagers that has left such a bad taste in Sydney's mouth.

And as assuming your first command goes, I'm glad she had such a sedate experience. I mean, nobody's shooting at her... yet.

 

[CeJay]

Adirondack, finally meets her new captain.

And it looks like it'll take a while for her to break in the new commanding officer. Numerous challenges await.

Neat story.

 

[sojourner]

Interesting reading, reminds me of some of the Honor Harrington stuff. One small thing. A newly promoted captain getting a newly commissioned ship? It doesn't really ring true to me. Unless this is set in the JJ verse, hehe. Though, now that I think about it, Riker was given Titan for his first command as well wasn't he? I guess starfleet just has a habit of giving new hardware to new captains. From a promotion standpoint it doesn't really work though. Who is commanding all the older ships? Captains that are on the way out?

 

[Gibraltar]

Interesting reading, reminds me of some of the Honor Harrington stuff. One small thing. A newly promoted captain getting a newly commissioned ship? It doesn't really ring true to me. Unless this is set in the JJ verse, hehe. Though, now that I think about it, Riker was given Titan for his first command as well wasn't he? I guess starfleet just has a habit of giving new hardware to new captains. From a promotion standpoint it doesn't really work though. Who is commanding all the older ships? Captains that are on the way out?

Some new captains have all the luck... and others get handed the keys to a 90-year old refit Connie.

But... Sydney is Sutek's protégé, so a brand new Intrepid's probably her due.

 

[Sovereign_One]

It's a situation of "if this didn't happened, then that would have happened." If the last ship Sydney had been assigned to, the 30-year-old Merced-class Toledo, hadn't been decommissioned, she definitely would have been Captain of that ship. Captain Mishenko, a 32-year veteran, was being reassigned regardless of the Toledo's fate. Ironically, to a brand-new Nebula, the Scion.

Now, if Sydney was assigned to something like a new Sovereign, that would have really raised some eyebrows. I like to think she got her assignment because of her record and the recommendations from the higher-ups. The fact that she was Sutek's protégé might have a tiny thing to do with it.

 

[Sovereign_One]

"A New Page"



The Adirondack's ready room was spotless and void of any personal items. Captain Sydney Satterwhite would put her own touch on the space soon enough. The rest of her belongings were due to arrive at Starbase 168 in a few days. Starfleet logistics being what it was at times, she didn't count on "a few days". Just as long as her possessions arrived before the ship departed for her next mission.

Clad in her dress uniform, she gazed through the windows, thoughts bouncing through her head. So much to do and learn before the Adirondack even left port. So many questions.

She turned to the sound of doors opening at the far end of the room. Captain Aaron Stewart, also dressed in his Starfleet best, entered and smiled as he surveyed the room for the last time.

"I've spent more time sleeping in here than in my own quarters," he said.

Sydney returned the smile. "I was going to ask about the couch."

"Good for sitting, not exactly for sleeping. Especially when you've got something on your mind."

"I hear that."

"Are you ready?"

She sighed and smoothed out a wrinkle in her long tunic. "As I'll ever be."

Stewart stepped aside as Sydney exited and walked out onto the bridge. She paused for a short glance around at the skeleton crew at their stations, then accompanied the Captain into the port turbolift.

"Deck 2," he called to the air.

Sydney took a short breath before speaking. "When I was looking through some of the logs you sent me, I saw that Ed Hennessy was supposed to be assigned here as Captain."

Stewart nodded. "At first, then he was assigned to the Clayton at the last minute. To do patrols on the Cardassian border."

"Then who got the Ocelot?"

"Frank Harmon."

She raised an eyebrow and snickered. "Frankie Blue Eyes? The guy who could scratch his nose and make females of any species swoon? He wouldn't take a ship that wasn't as pretty he is. I heard he was up for the Crown Royal."

"I heard you were up for the Crown Royal."

The turbolift stopped and let them off a few steps from the Mess Hall.

Ugh, not that again. Sydney waved her hands in dismissal. "That's, that's...crazy talk. Captain Sutek told me that just before I left Armaden. I teased him about it because he's not the type who takes stock in rumors. Anyway, she's not due to be launched for eight months. She's meant for an Admiral."

"Even if it was only a silly rumor," Stewart said, "I'd consider it a compliment."

A compliment. Sometimes, Sydney wondered if Sutek enjoyed putting her on the spot like that. But something else gnawed at her.

"I still don't understand the whole Hennessy business," she said. "Any reason why the assignment was changed up so fast?"

Pursing his lips, he sighed softly before answering. "Nobody's talking, that's for sure. Anything else about it is classified."

"I wouldn't be surprised if Ed had gotten himself in trouble."

"You know him?"

Sydney gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Graduated in the same class from the Academy. He says he was my rival, but that just wasn't so."

"Oh?"

"He gave himself the nickname 'Fast Eddie'. What does that tell you?"

"That he thinks of himself a bit more highly than he ought to?"

"You're being quite politic."

"Part of the job."

Sydney laughed as they entered the Mess Hall. Most of the tables and chairs had been cleared away, and a podium had been set up nearby. From Sydney's estimate, about forty to fifty of the crew were milling about or engaged in small knots of conversation. So many new faces and names to learn. And so much trust to earn.

The only familiar face in the room, Lt. Commander Riley Crawford, surfaced from the crowd, totally at ease with two acquaintances from Sciences. She appeared totally Human, save for the brace of Trill spots arcing down the sides of her face. Her conversation partners moved on, and her face lit up once she caught sight of Sydney.

Sydney excused herself from Stewart's company and approached her friend.

"How ya doin', Trill?" she said lightly.

"Half-Trill," came the old response with a grin. "She's doing just fine, thank you. You and Captain Stewart sure took your time getting down here. What were you talking about?"

"Who said we were talking about anything?"

"That 'not again' look you get when you've heard something you didn't want to hear for the millionth time."

Maybe not the millionth time, but twice in less than a day is enough. "Is this my science officer talking or my unofficial ship's counselor?"

"Which one do you want to hear from?"

They both chuckled for a moment.

"I'll have to think about that," Sydney said. "No disrespect to you, shug, but if I had my druthers, I'd have a dedicated counselor. Why there isn't one is a mystery to me."

"No mystery," Riley said with a shrug. "Command didn't think we needed one for shakedown work."

"For the engineers, maybe. I read that the official launch was held up for three months because of 'unforeseen technical obstacles'."

"Trouble with the warp core, quickly fixed. Sporadic power drop-offs, took two weeks to find the cause. A shuttle had to be replaced, Doc Tate complained about the environmental controls in Sickbay, recalibrated forward sensor array. checked every gel-pack to make sure they're doing what they're supposed to be doing--"

"I've read the reports, Riley."

"Just making sure you get a ship-shape ship, Captain, ma'am," Riley saluted jauntily.

"If I can have your attention, please," Stewart called from the front of the room.

Riley gave her friend's hand a congratulatory squeeze before Sydney joined Stewart at the podium. Commander Jorgenson, the XO, came out of the crowd and stood off to Stewart's right. All fell silent and faced their old and new Captains.

"As my last act as commanding officer of this vessel," Stewart began, "it is my honor and pleasure to recognize a young man who had been with the Adirondack from the beginning. Since the day she was given her name. When I first set foot on the bridge seven months ago, I was met by a very nervous Ensign. He was unsure of himself at Ops, always afraid of making a mistake, and, possibly, drawing my ire. But you all know how easy-going I am."

Light laughter scattered around the room.

"Commander Jorgenson and I took him aside and calmed him down and always made it a point to find something he did right when things didn't go as planned. As we did with everyone. He took that to heart and grew--is growing--into a fine officer. So, join me up here, Ensign Eldek Ossa."

The crowd broke into cheers and applause as a brown-haired Bajoran stepped forward, his proud smile adding more creases to his ridged nose. Stewart turned to the Ensign and affixed a second pip to his collar. Sydney bowed her head and blushed a bit. She received her fourth pip only a few days ago, from her own former commanding officer.

"For outstanding service as Chief Operations Officer, I grant you the rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade. Wear this well, with pride and with honor. And serve Captain Satterwhite as well as you have served me. Congratulations, Ossa."

Applause went up. Eldek shook hands with Stewart and Sydney and exchanged a few words, then moved to Jorgenson to do the same. The rest of the senior staff were waiting for their turn with him. The tall stocky engineer Commander Stryker gave Eldek a strong grip and a pat on the shoulder. Hyper Lt. van der Rohe shared some sort of buddy handshake. Dr. Tate, with his unnerving ice blue eyes, offered a salute. To Lt. Commander T'Pala, the tac officer, Eldek bowed his head respectfully, to which the Vulcan woman responded in kind. Riley took both his hands and raised them in triumph.

Once the adulation died down, Stewart turned to the assembly.

"And now," he said with a bit of emotion in his voice, "without further ado. Commander, if you please."

Jorgenson nodded. "Aye, sir. Attention to orders!"

The entire company drew to tight attention. Stewart and Sydney faced one another as he read from a PADD.

"To Captain Aaron Stewart, Commanding Officer, USS Adirondack, Stardate 48249.1. You are hereby requested and required to relinquish command of your vessel to Captain Sydney Satterwhite as of this date. Signed, Vice Admiral Douglas Hepburn, Starfleet Command. Computer, transfer all command codes to Captain Sydney Satterwhite. Voice authorization, Stewart epsilon two-three-five."

"Transfer complete," the computer announced. "USS Adirondack now under command of Captain Sydney Satterwhite."

"I relieve you, sir," Sydney replied.

"I stand relieved," Stewart answered.

The two Captains shook hands.

"Take good care of her, Captain," Stewart said within Sydney's hearing. "She'll make you proud."

"I'm proud already," she whispered, beaming.

Stewart stepped away from the podium, leaving Sydney to face her crew.

"I'm not a speechmaker," she said. "I'm a storyteller, a whole different thing. New stories will start here. For me, as this is my first command. For Captain Stewart, when he returns to Mars to lend his knowledge to the Niobe and the Tashkent, so they get their proper start. And for this ship and this crew. Through our triumphs and trials, may what we write upon the page speak well of us. Dismissed."

 

[Gibraltar]

And Sydney gets her ship. Nicely done. Can't wait to see where she takes Adirondack from here. Great speech, too, brief yet poignant.