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Lower Deck Tales: The Longest Day
A Star Eagle Adventures Short Story
04:34
“Attention, a ship-wide red alert has been issued. All personnel report to your duty stations. Attention, a ship-wide red alert has been issued. All personnel report to your duty stations immediately.”
Srena’s eyes sprang wide open upon hearing the computer voice. Her green eyes wandered towards the chronometer even though she had tried to train herself not to do that anymore.
It was still hours until her shift was due to start. The damn Jem’Hadar simply didn’t have the slightest sense of timing. Uncivilized creatures indeed.
The young Andorian ensign let out a small sigh. This was not why she had joined Starfleet just about three years ago. Had it only been three years? It felt like a lifetime ago now. And so did the Academy. This was of course ironic considering that she had spend less than three years on Earth to train to be a Starfleet officer. After the war had broken out and Starfleet had decided to graduate her and thousands of other cadets early, she had seen it as her first step of the great adventure she had embarked upon. And why not? That was why she had joined. To be the best pilot the fleet had ever known and to steer a starship to places nobody had ever seen before.
Back then she hadn’t really imagined that the war would last very long or even considered that Starfleet’s decision to not allow her and her fellow cadets a full four years at the Academy had been an action born out of desperation.
She had soon learned the hard way that this was not the adventure she had hoped for. She had seen friends and colleagues being killed in front of her eyes and had come herself close to such a fate on numerous occasions.
Her only blessing was that she usually didn’t have the time or the energy to think about the war and how badly it was going for the Federation.
This was one of those times.
She jumped out of her bed and found her uniform shirt exactly where she had left it the night before. On the floor, next to her bed.
As the beta shift flight controller her station during a red alert was on the bridge, regardless what time or shift it was. Protocol demanded that she’d make it up there within two minutes of the red alert being issued.
The only problem? She really needed to go somewhere else first.
She rushed out of her bedroom and across the lounge and towards the washroom she shared with her roommate. And found the doors closed.
She could hear the sonic shower running.
“By Uzaveh, you gotta be kidding me, Mikki? It’s a red alert, there is no time for a shower.”
Her response coming out of the washroom was unintelligible however. She was cleaning her teeth at the same time.
Srena banged against the doors one more time and then gave up. Mikaela Besson had a thing about personal hygiene which was perfectly fine. But she didn’t seem to understand that in certain situations it simply had to take a backseat. For example when the lives of everybody on the ship were at stake.
It didn’t help that as a science ensign, Srena’s roommate had completely different priorities and duties than she did.
She bit her lips, trying hard not to focus on the urgent reason she had needed to use the washroom. She just had to cope, she finally decided and then grabbed the rest of her uniform and rushed out of her quarters.
She would have to have a talk with Mikaela once this crisis was over.
* * * * *
04:41
When she arrived on the bridge she noticed that all senior and alpha shift officers were already at their stations which technically meant that she was late. Probably by a half a minute or so.
It wasn’t that she was required to take the helm, that duty had fallen to Eagle’s primary flight controller, the silver-haired Krellonian, Lif Culsten. She had to be on the bridge as a stand-by and as such she quickly headed for one of the aft bridge stations where she would monitor sensor data and ship logs at Science II until or if she was needed to take the helm.
Everybody was too focused on their stations and their own duties to notice that she had arrived late. Everyone but Commander Tazla Star.
The Trill first officer shot her a disapproving glare before she returned her attention back towards the view screen.
Srena’s antennae drooped slightly before she focused on her own station. Star had it out for her, she was convinced of that. Since she had come aboard as Eagle’s new executive officer she had quickly and deservedly gained the reputation as a hard-ass. She was worse than Lieutenant Commander Xylion, the Vulcan science officer who had temporarily held that position before her and she was in a completely different universe than the late Commander Gene Edison who had been Eagle’s original and much beloved first officer.
Most people speculated that Star was so tough on the crew because she had something to prove. After all she had a rather questionable past, including a stint at the Starfleet stockade after losing her own command and rumor had it that she had come aboard Eagle under false pretenses initially and that she had been involved in numerous illicit affairs.
And yet the captain had decided to keep her on board even if most believed that he didn’t trust the shady Trill one bit and preferred to keep her on a short leash.
Srena didn’t care much for rumors and she had liked Star well enough, especially during those few times she had worked with her in which she had demonstrated a skill for unconventional if not risky tactics. All that had changed after she had been made permanent and now it seemed she was riding her harder than any other officer on board.
The mood on the bridge was tense. The light levels had been dimmed and the obnoxiously flashing red alert strobes reminded everyone that danger could be imminent.
How imminent however nobody seemed to know for certain.
Eagle had been patrolling this sector of space for over a week. During that time they had run into the Jem’Hadar exactly once but Srena had lost count how many times the ship had gone to red alert due to a supposed sensor contact.
And even though they had gone through this exact same routine over and over again it was no different than the previous times.
Commander Xylion was sitting in front of his science station, analyzing every iota of information the sensors were feeding him and trying to get an exact location on the threat. So’Dan Leva, their half-Romulan tactical officer was entirely focused on his weapons systems, standing by to unleash deadly volleys of phaser fire and quantum torpedoes at a moment’s notice. The beautiful Tenarian, DeMara Deen at ops, kept her eyes peeled on ship resources as well as sensors while Lif Culsten made sure the ship maintained optimal maneuverability in case they needed to quickly change course or implement defensive maneuvers.
Her gaze lingered on the helmsman for a moment. Another reason why she hated being on stand-by duty was that she was only really needed if something bad happened to Culsten. She hated the idea of having to replace him in an emergency.
Captain Michael Owens sat in his chair at the center of the bridge, asking for status reports and ship conditions every fifteen minutes or so. She was thankful for that as she feared that the silence and the waiting would drive her crazy.
Srena was not the only one who had noticed that Owens had taken on a tendency to micromanage ship operations over the last few months. Tasks he had usually left to his second in command he now, more often than not, took on himself.
The reason for that was apparent.
If Tazla Star was bothered by this clear vote of no confidence in her abilities, she didn’t let it show. At least not in front of the captain. Instead she paced the bridge, making sure to stop by at every station to keep an eye on their instruments.
When the red-headed Trill decided to check on Srena, she quickly turned back towards her station, squared her shoulders and took a small breath.
She could sense the much taller woman step up right behind her where she remained for a few moments.
Srena tried hard to focus on her screens and spot any discrepancies there that may have been the cause for the first officer’s interest. As much as she tried, she couldn’t find anything wrong. Of course Star was not making it easy for her to concentrate while breathing down her neck.
“Are you experiencing a problem, Ensign?” she said just quietly enough to make sure that Srena could hear her while not distracting the other officers on the bridge.
She hadn’t expected to be addressed and now scrambled her brains for an answer.
“I asked you a question.”
“No, ma’am,” she said quickly, keeping her eyes on her console.
“Good. You were late on the bridge. Make sure that doesn’t happen again,” said Star and then quickly moved on to the next station.
Srena exhaled and then looked after the first officer who didn’t grace her with another glance.
Just as Star returned to the command area at the center of the bridge, Captain Owens stood. “I think this has gone on just about long enough,” he said. “Stand down from red alert.”
The flashing red lights ceased immediately and the bridge illumination returned to is normal levels.
“Commander, I’m getting sick entirely of these sensor echoes. This is the third night in a row we went through this. Get this taken care of,” he said, hardly giving Star a chance to formulate a response of her own and then strode towards the turbo-lift.
Srena noticed the slightly irritated expression on her face. No doubt she felt as if Owens blamed her for Eagle’s recent sensor trouble.
A few minutes later the regular duty shift returned to the bridge and Srena beat a quick retreat, not wanting to be in Star’s immediate vicinity when she began to grill the crew to get to the root of this problem.
* * * * *
07:21
The red alert situation had lasted nearly three hours during which time she had been forced to stay on the bridge. Srena couldn’t get back to her quarters quickly enough.
She ignored her roommate who was already napping on the couch and rushed into the washroom.
She felt icky, tired and hungry.
Taking a quick sonic shower wasn’t a difficult choice and once she was done and changed into a clean uniform she was looking forward to a bite to eat and then maybe follow Mikki’s example and try to get some more sleep.
She got as far as the replicator.
“Flight Ops to Ensign Srena, report to the main hangar deck for an immediate ESO.”
She hit her combadge with a sigh. “This is Srena, acknowledged. I’m on my way.”
An ESO or an emergency shuttle ops meant that she was needed to get to the hangar bay without delay and prep a shuttle for immediate take-off. With ESOs she wouldn’t learn the ins and outs of the mission usually until well after the shuttle had launched.
She found the timing odd, after all she had only just arrived from the bridge and at the time there had been no indication that a shuttle mission would be required anytime soon. Of course during a war this meant nothing. She had since learned that any situation could change in a heartbeat.
She shot a quick and longing look at the replicator, then at her roommate, once again asking herself why she hadn’t decided to pursue a science track instead before she half ran out of the door.
Yeah, it's beginning to look as though she's had better days. 
