‘I believe that it was Cochrain you said that space was the final frontier.’ announced Ensign Jack Crowley from the front flight control station. Lieutenant Commander Forrest Dekelley raised one eyebrow as he regarded the back of the helmsman’s head, before glancing over to where Warrant Officer Chi Mai Giang was. The middle-aged woman was manning the engineering console at the back of the cramped bridge and was the only other person present. Her expression was unreadable as she made eye contact with Dekelley. ‘It wasn’t too long ago that most folks back home thought the West Coast of the United States was the final frontier,’ observed Gunner’s Mate 3rd Class Ben Casey via the ship’s intercom. Once more Dekelley glanced at Giang, only to see a very minute sigh. He smiled. Dekelley wasn’t stupid. He knew damn well that she was more irritated with the ship’s intercom system being used as some sort of instant messenger between the crew, but that was his idea. At a length of 130 meters from bow to stern, and a width wider than his grand-uncle’s rear end, and five decks, the remaining sixteen crew were spread out accordingly. ‘It wasn’t so long ago that most Americans thought they were the center of the universe,’ quipped Engineering Apprentice Dave Wong through the comms. Dekelley smirked. Wong always had to have the last word whenever Casey spoke up an opinion, which seemed to be mutual. ‘Hey, ass -’ ‘Knock it off gentlemen,’ grumbled Ensign Ambler Furry in that cool, dispassionate tone of his. ‘I’m sure Ensign Crowley has better things to do than babysit you again.’ ‘Oh, that I do, Amb!’ piped in Crowley. Dekelley checked the readouts on the throne-like captain’s chair. They were in the outer limits of what some genius called an Economic Exclusive Zone, a nautical term adapted to give individual worlds authority over their airspace. Deneva’s was wider than Earth’s by twenty percent, by virtue of her two moons of Speer and Clayton. As this was their first mission as a crew, Commodore Duvall suggested that the Arvakur check out the navigational buoys that marked the zone. Easy, peasy. A nice, leisurely trip checking out the markers, while the crew settled under their new captain. ‘Captain.’ Ensign Furry’s voice rang out via the intercom. ‘Incoming call from Deneva-Actual.’ Here, Dekelley winced. ‘Didn’t he call already?’ ‘Three hours ago,’ agreed Furry, who was in charge of the equally cramped CIC downstairs. ‘Must be a slow day in the office,’ muttered Dekelley, shaking his head and pulling on his jumpsuit. ‘Put him through onto the main screen, please.’ ‘Aye, aye, sir.’ The main screen, which was situated just above Crowley, split. On one side was the two-dimensional layout of Deneva, Speer, Clayton, and the starbase concerning Arvakur’s current location. On the other was Duvall, glowering. ‘Captain Dekelley, I see that Lieutenant Baram’s not rostered on the bridge,’ the commodore said without preamble. ‘As your first officer, his position is on the bridge.’ ‘Yes, sir,’ replied Dekelley. ‘So, why isn’t he on the bridge?’ ‘Presently because he’s off-shift, sir,’ replied Dekelley. ‘Arez has pulled three shifts in a row already, two of which were on the bridge. I’d rather he rest, sir. Unless you’d prefer you order me to wake him?’ Duvall blinked, momentarily taken aback. ‘No, no, that’s unnecessary. Let the lieutenant rest,’ Duvall gradually managed. ‘Thank you, sir, I’m sure he’ll appreciate a good night’s sleep,’ replied Dekelley with a smile. *** ‘Fuck, that’s ballsy,’ hissed Casey. ‘Watch your tone, Mr Casey,’ countered Furry from his seat in the Combat Information Center, quietly agreeing with the petty officer. He was still getting used to the captain’s style of command, which seemed a little more relaxed than that of his predecessor. For one, there was no way that Captain Bukowski would allow the ship’s intercom to be used the way it was now. Just as equally, Captain Dekelley had embraced Baram’s appointment to first officer, unlike Captain Bukowski. ‘How are the buoys coming along, Captain?’ the commodore asked via the comms. ‘Still in optimal condition, sir. Ensign Marquette states that . . .’ the captain started to reply, and Furry tuned him out. Instead, he eyed the others in the cramped center. They were a good crew, even Casey. In the twelve months he had graduated from the Academy, Furry was glad he had listened to his grandfather. Joining the fleet shortly after Enterprise uncovered the Xindi plot, he had found his way to Deneva and the ESS Arvakur. Even his grandfather, who had been a Major General in the Australian Army, transferred into the fleet and accepted a Captain’s commission before disappearing into thin air. ‘Ah, sir.’ It was Chief Dalton, who served as his division chief. The chief petty officer was manning comms. ‘We have a distress call.’ Furry blinked and shook his head. He needed to focus, confident his grandfather had his reasons for vanishing. ‘Report.’ ‘The Arrowtown, a Jay-class freighter. Belongs to the O’Brian Family.’ Furry frowned and eyed the master-at-arms. ‘As in, Colm O’Brien?’ ‘The same, yes, sir.’ ‘Damn.’ ‘What’s the big deal, boss?’ asked Casey. ‘He’s been on Captain Bukowski’s radar since that incident at the Reef a few months back,’ said Furry and reached to activate the intercom. It was time to kick it upstairs. ‘Sorry to intrude, sirs, but we’ve just picked up a distress call from the Arrowtown.’
Sweet easter egg name game. I'm enjoying that, don't stop. Again, appreciating the bite-sized updates. Thanks!! rbs
I'm picking up some of these Easter eggs, even if they were before my time. I been enjoy reading all of your updates.
Like the remainder of the ship, the conference room was not one designed with space in mind. Then again, technically speaking, Arvakur’s had no dedicated conference room for its senior staff. Baram solved the problem by suggesting the mass hall, which had once been used by Dekelley’s predecessor. The bonus point was that the galley was within reach. ‘So, Arrowtown, what’s her distress call about?’ asked Dekelley as he made himself a coffee. ‘Engine failure,’ replied Furry after glancing at the datapad in his big hand. ‘That’ll suck,’ mumbled Dekelley as he finished making his drink and took a sip. ‘Arrowtown’s a Jay-class, which means she’s got four main engines,’ Baram spoke up from where he sat. ‘Thing is, it’s a matter of debate how much Colm O’Brien upgraded.’ Dekelley frowned. ‘Meaning?’ ‘It’s a standard protocol within the Eart Cargo Service to register any and all upgrades onto a central register. Deneva has one in the Service regional office.’ ‘Okay.’ ‘The O’Brians haven’t updated their upgrades since before Colm O’Brien took command, sir,’ offered Furry. ‘Which was how long ago?’ asked Dekelley. ‘Twelve years ago, sir,’ replied Furry. Sipping his coffee, Dekelley considered that bit of information. As a former criminal investigator and armory officer, he knew about the upgrade registrar operated by the cargo service. Starfleet Security, Starfleet Criminal Investigations Division, and Mission Control had access to said information, as did Spacedock and Jupiter Station. The register was there to ensure that rescue teams and repair specialists had access to the same replacements. ‘Twelve years.’ Dekelley let out a low whistle and glanced at Dalton. ‘Chief, you’re the closest we’ve got to law enforcement. What’s the deal with Arrowtown? I understand Captain Bukowski had some suspicions.’ ‘Captain Bukowski was passed on information that Arrowtown may be harboring Terra Prime terrorists,’ offered Chief Dalton. ‘One theory is that one of them’s Daniel Greaves, one of the henchmen arrested on Mars. he ought to be in a rehabilitation center, but he’s escaped custody.’ ‘Charming,’ said Dekelley. ‘And where are they now, the ship that is?’ ‘On the other side of the solar system, a place known as the Reef.’ *** Chief Petty Officer Sean Dalton crossed his arms. There were a lot of things he wanted to say like this was some wild speculation that had no merit to what so ever. Still, Bukowski had run with it and had petitioned Commodore Duvall to get station security to look into the accusations. The commodore did no such thing. ‘The Reef?’ asked Dekelley while nursing his coffee. ‘Sounds delightfully bountiful.’ ‘If you were a geologist, petrologist, or mining surveyor, then sure,’ offered Crowley happily. ‘It’s in the outer asteroid belt, sir,’ offered Ensign Marquette. ‘The largest is a chunk of rock known as the Butch Cassidy, theorized to be from a planet that failed to form -’ ‘Or got slammed into by something bigger,’ Crowley offered once more. Marquette glared at the other ensign. ‘Or that, yes. It’s treacherous territory.’ Dalton just snorted. Treacherous territory and they were racing toward it like a moth to a flame.
Headed to rescue a ship that might be a criminal operation with a woefully understaffed, extremely valuable Star Fleet vessel. What could possibly go wrong? Thanks!! rbs
Nothing to test a new commanding officer like an unexpected distress signal that comes with a whole lot of extra baggage. Dekelley and crew will have their work cut out for them.
Jay-class freighter Arrowtown Reef, Outer Asteroid Belt, Deneva System The auxiliary bridge was spacious enough, even if technically none of its layouts had made it to the freighter’s specs. For Davon O’Brian that made sense. The regular bridge was too far forward, too exposed. There was no way it could be defended against determined boarding parties. Henceforth, it made sense. The best part, there was more to utilize. Arrowtown had a pretty good defense grid, compliments of the Tellarites. The pigs could argue all they like, but they could see the value of a well-armed merchantman. ‘Coming around now, cuz!’ Emori Koroitamana called out via the comms, making Davon O’Brian turn to the main screen. The sensor feed was coming from one of the manned work pods, operated by Arrowtown’s resident engineering foreman. ‘Fuck me. You fellas seeing this?’ ‘We see it, Em,’ grumbled Davon’s older brother Colm. ‘This is going to suck,’ grumbled Davon. Sparks were flying everywhere and Davon O’Brian barely managed to stop himself from wincing, looking about the crushed containers. Five of them, the height of a muti-storied apartment. Five million credits each, perhaps a little more. ‘Twenty-five million, gone,’ snarled Davon, eyeing his older brother. ‘You’re point?’ ‘That’s twenty-five million we could have used to set up shop in Orion space,’ reminded Davon. Colm gave him a hooded stare. He knew of the plan. That was why he was the captain. It was a plan twenty years in the making and carefully negotiated with several of the Orion leaders. ‘And here we are,’ he said. ‘Indeed.’ ‘Twenty-five big ones, eh,’ came via the comms, making both brothers stare at the screen. ‘I would be more worried about the locals. Eugenics is a fucking no-no on Earth.’ ‘That’s why we never ventured into Sol, Em,’ reminded Colm. ‘I’m talking about the locals here, cuz,’ countered Emori. ‘Or have you fellas forgotten about the Starfleet boat coming in?’ ‘No, we haven’t forgotten, Em,’ replied Com, looking annoyed. ‘I was the one who called in the distress call.’ ‘Yeah, well, they ain’t gonna be thrilled with several thousand soon-to-be-born in-vitro humans.’ ‘Am fully aware of that, Em,’ grumbled Colm. ‘Can we destroy the cargo containers to a point they won’t find the shit worth of evidence?’ ‘How long we got until they get in range?’ asked the engineering foreman. ‘Four hours,’ offered Davon. ‘Should be able to, cuz,’ replied Emori. ‘May mean fucking up more of the ship.’ ‘It’s insured,’ said Colm, snorting. ‘Thi piggies made sure of that.’
Nothing like a bunch of rough Irish sailors. And the great Meaney would love inhabiting his namesake. Greedy, illicit lot as well. This is going to be fun... Thanks!! rbs
ESS Arvakur Entering the Reef, Deneva System The Reef, as it turned out, had started life as a proto-planet a very long time ago. Neither the Vulcan Science Academy nor its Starfleet equivalent knew for sure but suspected that the world was smashed into by a rogue planet. ‘Great, interstellar billiards,’ muttered Dekelley as he leaned back, yawned, and stretched. Still, whatever the cause, the Reef was one of two places within the system that was rich in raw materials needed in spaceborne construction. More importantly, it sported lots of dilithium. Earth had plans to turn the Reef into one of several dilithium-extraction sites within its area of operations. The Vulcans supported this move and invested heavily in the sector. ‘And here we are,’ he told the empty captain’s ready room, just as the intercom sounded. ‘Commander, you wanted to know when we entered the Reef,’ announced Ensign Furry. Dekelley grunted. Not Captain, Skipper, or Boss. Furry kept to Dekelley’s rank when suitable. Chief Dalton had described the armory officer as the perfect soldier, more comfortable in the decorums of long-established maritime and military traditions. ‘Be right there, Ambler,’ said Dekelley. Not that he had to go far. *** Ensign Ambler Furry barely had time to disconnect from the ship’s intercom when the doors to the adjoining ready room swooshed open, revealing their new commanding officer. ‘Alright, someone talk to me,’ ordered Dekelley as he bypassed the vacated captain’s chair, startling Ensign Marquette in the process as he made a beeline towards the flight control station and glance at Crowley’s shoulder. ‘I had a club sandwich for breakfast,’ offered Crowley. ‘Good for you, Jack,’ replied Dekelley. ‘We’ve entered the Reef, Captain,’ said Marquette as she resumed the captain’s chair hesitantly. ‘That much I can tell,’ offered Dekelley, cocking his head at her expectantly. From his station, Furry winced. Ciara may have graduated before them, but sometimes he had to wonder how she managed to get on the Honor Roll at the Academy. Even under Captain Bukowski’s tutelage, she struggled. ‘Ah, right.’ she counseled the instruments coming off the captain’s chair and main screen. ‘We’re about an hour’s flight time from Arrowtown. Sensors got her starboard smack into the side of the larger asteroids.’ ‘The Butch Cassidy,’ offered Dekelley helpfully from where he stood. ‘Yes, sir,’ replied Marquette. ‘Ambler, your tactical assessment please.’ Dekelley looked to the ensign. Furry straightened his back and rolled his shoulders, anticipating the question. ‘We detected several high-yield explosions from where Arrowtown’s starboard containers were situated. I don’t want to assume what caused it, but have my suspicions.’ ‘Such as?’ ‘Sir, only a nuclear bomb can produce such a high yield as we detected,’ said Furry, not backing down. ‘Failing that, a remotely triggered photonic torpedo or two could do the same thing.’ ‘Which you think is likely from what you shared with us,’ concluded Dekelley. ‘That was what Captain Bukowski suspected, yes, sir,’ replied Furry. ‘And, what do you think, Ambler?’ asked Dekelley. Furry frowned ever so slightly, thrown off balance for a moment at hearing his name. Captain Bukowski was never informal. ‘I think, sir, that there is a lot we don’t know,’ he managed after another pause. ‘Captain Bukowski’s suspicions aside, we never had a chance to properly investigate this matter.’ ‘And we probably won’t this time round either,’ concluded Dekelley, raising a single eyebrow at him. ‘I would tend to agree, yes, Commander,’ Furry nodded. ‘Much obliged, Ambler,’ replied Dekelley as he started to his chair. ‘I want you and Sean to take Wong, Casey, and our resident corpsman to be ready to check their ship out.’ ‘We going to board her, Captain?’ asked Marquette, once more vacating the captain’s chair. ‘Ciara, we don’t board anyone,’ corrected Dekelley happily, ‘We’re members of the Starfleet border squadrons, an elite border patrol force. We’re not pirates.’ Furry actually sniggered at that. No, pirates, they were not. The verdict was out on Colm O’Brian and his crew, however.
Seems there's a little bit of tension between Furry and Dekelley. Early days. Nicely handled banter. Thanks!! rbs
Arvakur was well within the range of the freighter, which now appeared on the main screen. “Analysis, Ambler?” asked Dekelley, just as the door to the bridge slid open and Lieutenant Baram stepped in. “Looks like the whole starboard’s been blown to hell,” grumbled the armory officer, glancing at Baram. “But I’m no engineer, sir.” “Nah, you just like blowing shit up, Amb!” chortled Crowley from the flight control station. “You just keep flying, Jack.” Dekelley threw the ensign an exasperated look, getting annoyed. Give Crowley something to fly and he was content. Everything else not to do with flying was just a bore. Dekelley breathed in and spotted Baram entering. “What do you think, Arez?” The young first officer made his way to the nearest science station, which was unmanned. Dekelley watched him, interested in what Baram would say. “Looks like they had a couple of good explosions along the starboard, destroying much of their merchandise there,” he said levelly, glancing up from the station. “I’ve managed to pick up traces of a thermonuclear denotation, whi -” “Which can be replicated by a pair of photonic torpedoes, yeah, Ciara said that earlier,” Dekelley waved him off, spinning in his chair to face the main screen. “Considering what you guys have mentioned, we ought to be wary of Arrowtown and her crew. Okay, guess we do this. Ambler, open hailing frequencies.” “Hailing frequencies open, Commander,” announced Furry from tactical. Dekelley frowned at him slightly, sighed, and refocused on the main screen. “This is Lt. Commander Forrest Dekelley, Captain of the Earth Starship Arvakur. Did someone call for 9-1-1?” There was a scratching sound, accompanied by hissing. “This is Captain Colm O’Brien, Captain and owner of the Earth Cargo Starship Arrowtown,” the voice came through clearly, despite the interference. “I’m afraid we took a bit of a tumble, captain.” “Something you carried went ‘boom’?” asked Dekelley. “Something like that, aye,” agreed O’Brien. “But I think it may be more sinister than that, captain.” Dekelley frowned and glanced at Furry and then Baram. “Which would be what, exactly?” “Oh, I think me ship was targeted, captain.”
Liking the pup that needs to be growled out a little - the young pilot fits this paradigm and is very believable. I'm also liking that the crew is alert enough to realize the Arrowtown's crew could bd dangerous to them. Thanks!! rbs
I'm enjoying the buildup here, and the tension as a new captain and crew grind off one another's rough edges.
ECS Arrowtown Davon stared at his older brother, eyes wide open in shock. “Are you out of your fucking mind?” he hissed as his brother looked back in askance. “That’s quite an interesting theory, Captain O’Brien,” the Starfleeter responded via the comms. “I know it may sound a tad far fetched, but it’s the truth,” Colm went on, while his younger brother glowered at him. “One minute we were flying out of the system, minding our own business, and the next -” “Something hit you?” “Shot at us, aye,” corrected Colm. There was silence over the comms, and the two brothers exchanged glances at each other. The truth was somewhere in between, of course. They were leaving the system for one, with plans to take their precious cargo of artificially created human cargo to the nearest Orion stronghold. The payoff promised to be good, and both brothers planned to earn their way into a merchant prince’s favor. Upon nearing the piece of planet, known as the Butch Cassidy, something did jump out and struck them. “Whatever you say, Captain,” the Starfleeter announced finally via the comms. “In the meantime, how about you let my people come aboard? We can dock on your port-side in the next twenty minutes.” Davon was shaking his head. Colm smiled. “Come on in, Captain. Arrowtown’s been a good for us. I’d hate to abandon her just ’cause someone took potshots at her.” The line went dead, making Davon wince. This was not the plan. Then again, neither had the unidentified ship crashing into the plan. “Please tell me you’re not serious?” “What?” “Bringing Starfleet aboard,” said Davon. Colm regarded his little brother and shrugged. “You got a better idea, Davon? Something, someone, targeted us. Could be Orions or Terra Prime. Hell, it could even be those pointy eared bastards. We don’t have the means, but Starfleet does.”
Very much appreciating these short, pithy updates. You cover a lot of territory with an admirable economy of words. Thanks!! rbs
Curiouser and Curiouser... even the smugglers don't know who's behind the attack. Drawing Starfleet in makes sense, keep your enemies close, especially enemies who might safeguard you from your other enemies.