The last month had been a whirlwind, even since the announcement of a new starship to bear the name Orion and that the surviving crew of her predecessor, destroyed just a fortnight earlier, would be assigned to her. However, not all of the survivors had accepted the new transfer, with seven of them requesting posts on other support ships—the brief but bloody battle that had sealed the fate of the Constellation-Class ship was more combat than any of them had wanted to face.
It was understandable, given all that had been lost. Even for Myza, a trained Starfleet counsellor, it was a hard loss to deal with. Luckily, Captain Reihyn had agreed to the requests and included letters of recommendation for each of the seven officers and non-coms that wouldn’t be joining them. Myza herself had considered asking for reassignment, she’d only joined the Orion’s crew after being rescued following another battle against the Dominion for what had intended to be on a short-term posting, but she’d stayed due to the work the ship did and the good she could do for the crew and those they helped. Whilst the crew would still need her, now more than ever, she might not be able to provide them with the detachment that a good counsellor needed when helping others through their issues, she could’ve stayed on Starbase 360 and helped all those that were brought there for hospitalisation.
Ultimately, she’d decided to stay with the crew—at least until the war was over. Which could be sooner rather than later. The new Norway-Class starship, which the crew had quickly dubbed the Orion-II, was part of a massive effort by every shipyard to churn out new ships for one last all-out assault against the Dominion.
Once the crew had been informed of the new posting, a round of commendations and promotions had been bestowed on many of the crew—herself included. She, along with security chief D’Kehra and chief engineer Enan Lanali, was now a full lieutenant, Chief Diego Ramirez, the former Maquis traitor who had been their chief of the boat, was now a senior chief, whilst Aleksander Jachim and Yeema Ad’u were both lieutenant commanders—Jachim also had the added distinction of becoming their new first officer. The crew who would be transferring to the new ship were loaded onto a courier and quickly on their way to Starbase 47.
On route, Reihyn had called on Jachim and herself to help with filling the vacancies that existed in their crew roster. The Orion-II wouldn’t have a full complement, restricted to just 140-ish (instead of the 190 that was the standard complement for a Norway-Class), but even that was sixty more than they currently had. Each department would be getting new additions, as well as the introduction of a science department, but most would be far from being completely filled. They also needed to find a few new department heads after the loss of Jachim’s predecessor, Lieutenant Commander Clarissa DuMont, and flight controller Ensign Mecell Koen, not to mention a new science officer.
Reihyn was keen to continue what the old ship had done; giving chances and opportunities to those most other ships in the fleet wouldn’t entertain. For a man who hadn’t reached his thirty-third year, the Rigellian was definitely an exceptional individual, with a great capacity for compassion and fairness. Myza had told him once that he would’ve made an excellent counsellor, and it was an assessment she stood by.
By the time they reached the construction facility, they had their ranks bolstered with some “colourful characters” (to use a euphemism she’d once heard to describe the old support ship’s personnel), which included an additional counsellor to take some of the burden off of herself—though she’d never heard of a Zaldan in the position before.
As soon as the courier arrived, the crew got to work with diagnostics and system status checks before the ship was to depart. They had barely a week after the ship’s completion to put her through a test flight and await the rest of the crew to arrive, before meeting up with the Fourth Fleet and being prepared for the last battle of the Dominion War. As had been the case for the crew over the last eighteen months, there was too much to do and not enough time to do it.
She was worried about how the two halves of the crew (those that had served on the old Orion and those joining anew on the Orion-II) would mesh together before being thrown in at the deep end, but she just had to hope that they could. It was something she would be keeping a very close eye on, now more than ever they needed to be one cohesive unit.
“Penny for your thoughts?” a familiar deep, husky voice asked from behind her.
Myza glanced up as Doctor Yeema Ad’u came the table and sat in one of the empty chairs. The Arcadian fixed her with an unblinking look from her large grey eyes, her large almost featureless face gave little away—it wasn’t a surprise the ship’s CMO was one of the best poker players they had.
“I was just dwelling on how things were a month ago.”
Ad’u nodded. “It’s been chaotic, that’s for sure, but you’re doing alright?”
She smiled at the surgeon. “As well as can be expected. In less than ten hours, we’ll be departing, heading out to face who knows what the Dominion has waiting for us. It’s not exactly an easy situation to process.”
“Prepare for the worst and hope for the best. That’s all we can really do.”
Myza chuckled humourlessly to herself. “Have you ever noticed the sheer number of idioms and sayings humans have for different situations?”
“It’s how they’ve wormed their way into almost every other Federation members lexicon that I find most worrying, who knew humans were so sneaky?”
She had to laugh at that. “Now that you mention it.”
Ad’u responded with a throaty chuckle and a small smile. “When this war is over, that can be a topic of study to write a paper on. Before then however, we have to make sure we’re ready for what tomorrow will bring and a good night’s rest will be key to that.”
“You’re right of course, Doctor. I’ll be heading to bed in a moment.”
“Be sure that you do, Myza. Good night.”
“Good night.”
With that, Ad’u gave a slight bow of her oversized head, rose and left the mess hall. Myza took a moment to focus on the viewport she’d been staring through, finally taking note of the hundreds of Federation, Klingon and Romulan ships that orbited around Deep Space 9, the staging ground for the Allied Forces before their last battle.
“Hope for the best,” she repeated to herself, before standing and heading for her quarters for what would surely be a tentative nights rest.
* * * * *
The previous U.S.S. Orion had been a ninety year old Constellation-Class ship, which had spent longer in a surplus depot than on active duty, only to be hastily reactivated, brought up to minimal operating standards and put to work. As such, the old ship was a continuous project always needing something repaired, replaced, patched up or bypassed just to keep her flying. For any engineer, it would’ve been a headache, but for then-twenty-four year old Enan Lanali, she had loved the challenge the ship presented. No two days were ever the same; as such, she came to know every system inside out, and could probably draw its circuit diagrams in her sleep.
The Orion-II however was a very different beast, though not without her own set of issues. The Norway-Class has come into service before Starfleet knew of the damage warp travel did to subspace and when the isolinear processor was the standard on all ships, in recent years though most shipyards were steadily replacing both systems for newer ones. This meant the original warp core, with its stack of doughnut-shaped rings, was replaced with one that was a swirling mass of colours and the computer processors were bioneural circuits, both of which had initially been devised for the Intrepid-Class. This meant that structural redesigns were needed to accommodate the new tech—which wouldn’t have been a problem had the shipyard been given sufficient time, but with so many ships produced so quickly then things weren’t as finished as they should’ve been. The need for as many ships as possible had also left sections of the interior unfinished, or hastily put together.
It did mean though that instead of twiddling her thumbs with an immaculate new ship, Lanali had plenty to be getting on with. Enough to keep her occupied and not dwell on what they were about to face.
She shook her head and refocused her attention on the power distribution grid. After a moment, she pointed at a section. “If we’re going to have any problems with switching to emergency backup, it’ll be located there.”
Beside her, Lieutenant j.g. Natalie Jurex, the newly appointed operations manager, scrutinised the display. The half-Betazoid was already known to most of the crew, being a survivor from the U.S.S. DeVier, a ship that was struck by an experimental biological weapon five months ago—that had seen the Orion lose two of its own, including Doctor Sioll Baxx. Though Jurex couldn’t be blamed for what had happened, she was a reminder of how the crew had lost a valued member of its dysfunctional family. However, the ops officer was working hard to prove herself and, given the DeVier had been a Yeager-type ship (a bewildering display of form and function, that rammed two eras of technology together and expected them to work together) she’d asked the younger woman’s opinion on the power grid.
“There’s only one EPS breaker in that section, one surge and that would be the entire network compromised.”
“Precisely. We don’t have time to jury-rig anything for backup, so I’ve had a team run a hard-line to adjacent sections just in case. It might not be pretty, but it’ll make sure that should we lose primary and secondary power that we’ll have something to keep the lights on a little longer, but I’d advise not running too much through there once the battle starts.”
“Got it.” She looked at the display for a moment longer. “If we need to bypass power, I’ll make sure it goes through here and here instead.”
“Sounds like a plan, Lieutenant.”
“Please, call me Nat.”
“Sure thing and feel free to call me Enan.”
“Will do,” she said with a grin that made her look even younger.
She has to be, what, three years younger than me. So how is she making me feel so old? Lanali asked herself, before shaking her head clear of the thought. Since the DeVier incident Jurex had been closely monitored and assessed, both medically and psychologically, and had shown herself to be highly resilient and coping with the loss of her shipmates in a very mature manner. The new ops officer was definitely a boon for the ship, they were lucky to have her.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the doors of the main entrance open and a tall, strapping man in a red uniform enter. Even just the sideward glimpse of him was enough to make her smile. Turning, she took in Lieutenant Commander Aleksander Jachim, whose face was neutral, his eyes quickly taking in everything around him before settling on the two senior staff members. Jurex stiffened her posture as she turned to him.
“What’s our status down here?”
“All fully operational, XO,” she replied with a playful smile on her lips, “we’ve just finished going over all the necessary options for emergency bypasses, damage control and systems management once the battle starts.”
“Very well. Lieutenant Jurex, we’ll be reaching the border in an hour, you’d best take your station.”
“Aye sir,” she said with a nod, then looked at Lanali and gave her a small smile.
“I’ll see you on the other side, Nat.”
“You too, Enan.”
The Betazoid/Human officer headed for the exit, as the pair of them looked after her. Once she left, Jachim looked back at Lanali, his face finally softening and the slightest hint of a smile tugged at his lips.
“I hope she copes with what we’re about to face.”
She rested a hand in his right bicep. “She’s made of stronger stuff than appearances would suggest.” She stopped herself short, not wanting to jinx them—since the last time many of them had faced a tactical situation, they’d lost their ship and ten crewmates.
“Just like you,” his soft voice was almost lost under the throb of the warp core.
Jachim took her hand and she felt how sweaty his palm was. She glanced down at it, confused, looking back up at his face when he said, “I know it might be a little sudden, and I don’t expect an answer this very second, but,” he paused and took a steadying breath, “what would you say if I asked you to marry me once this war is all over?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
He let out a nervous laugh. “What would you think about getting engaged?”
“Is this a hypothetical query, or are you actually asking me?”
Still holding her hand, in the middle of the engine room where a sizeable portion of her crew was watching them, Jachim lowered himself onto one knee.
“Enan Lanali, I love you. Would you do me the great honour of agreeing to be my wife?”
She opened her mouth but found no words. All around she was keenly aware of the assembled officers, non-coms and crewmen stopping what they were doing and watching them—the new additions clearly perplexed at what the first officer was doing. She could feel her cheeks burn, not quite believing just what he was doing.
“Get up,” she hissed at him.
He stood once more, now his turn to grin. “If the events of the last few weeks has taught me anything it’s that I don’t want to lose you, so think about it.”
Before she could react, he leaned in and kissed her. Though it lasted only a few seconds, her head was spinning so much that she could barely register the passage of time. When their lips parted, he gave her one last smile before heading back towards the door he’d entered through.
Of all the things to happen today, being proposed too hadn’t even entered her subconscious mind, she’d been so focused on ensuring the ship and her people were ready that she’d barely had a chance to think about anything else. She looked after him as those around them looked from him to her and back again, all of them clearly in disbelief about what they’d just witnessed, not to mention the fact she hadn’t answered.
When the escape pods had launched, all she’d thought about was whether Jachim had made it, hearing his voice after the Orion had exploded had been such an intense feeling of relief, all she wanted was to curl up beside him and be held tightly. Though it had barely been four months since they’d admitted how they felt for one another, she had never felt so strongly for anyone else, so much so that she didn’t know how she’d have coped had he been among those who’d died that day.
“Yes!”
The single word echoed around the dual levelled engine room, stopping Jachim in his tracks as the doors opened for him. He turned back to her with a wide smile, all pretence of the stoic, all-business officer had vanished. He gave her a nod and headed out the door, very nearly with a literal skip in his step.
When the doors closed behind him, she took a deep breath and then looked around to find all those present looking at her. Her cheeks began to burn again. Though she loved Jachim, she could’ve easily throttled him at that moment.
“Whoever isn’t back to work in the next two seconds is uninvited to my wedding.”
Promptly, the engineering staff resumed their duties; as such, they all missed the smirk on the chief engineer’s face. She was going to make damned sure the ship got through this final battle in one piece, no matter what it took. She had a man that loved her, who she wanted to spend her life with, and nothing was going to stop them from being together.
* * * * *
It was understandable, given all that had been lost. Even for Myza, a trained Starfleet counsellor, it was a hard loss to deal with. Luckily, Captain Reihyn had agreed to the requests and included letters of recommendation for each of the seven officers and non-coms that wouldn’t be joining them. Myza herself had considered asking for reassignment, she’d only joined the Orion’s crew after being rescued following another battle against the Dominion for what had intended to be on a short-term posting, but she’d stayed due to the work the ship did and the good she could do for the crew and those they helped. Whilst the crew would still need her, now more than ever, she might not be able to provide them with the detachment that a good counsellor needed when helping others through their issues, she could’ve stayed on Starbase 360 and helped all those that were brought there for hospitalisation.
Ultimately, she’d decided to stay with the crew—at least until the war was over. Which could be sooner rather than later. The new Norway-Class starship, which the crew had quickly dubbed the Orion-II, was part of a massive effort by every shipyard to churn out new ships for one last all-out assault against the Dominion.
Once the crew had been informed of the new posting, a round of commendations and promotions had been bestowed on many of the crew—herself included. She, along with security chief D’Kehra and chief engineer Enan Lanali, was now a full lieutenant, Chief Diego Ramirez, the former Maquis traitor who had been their chief of the boat, was now a senior chief, whilst Aleksander Jachim and Yeema Ad’u were both lieutenant commanders—Jachim also had the added distinction of becoming their new first officer. The crew who would be transferring to the new ship were loaded onto a courier and quickly on their way to Starbase 47.
On route, Reihyn had called on Jachim and herself to help with filling the vacancies that existed in their crew roster. The Orion-II wouldn’t have a full complement, restricted to just 140-ish (instead of the 190 that was the standard complement for a Norway-Class), but even that was sixty more than they currently had. Each department would be getting new additions, as well as the introduction of a science department, but most would be far from being completely filled. They also needed to find a few new department heads after the loss of Jachim’s predecessor, Lieutenant Commander Clarissa DuMont, and flight controller Ensign Mecell Koen, not to mention a new science officer.
Reihyn was keen to continue what the old ship had done; giving chances and opportunities to those most other ships in the fleet wouldn’t entertain. For a man who hadn’t reached his thirty-third year, the Rigellian was definitely an exceptional individual, with a great capacity for compassion and fairness. Myza had told him once that he would’ve made an excellent counsellor, and it was an assessment she stood by.
By the time they reached the construction facility, they had their ranks bolstered with some “colourful characters” (to use a euphemism she’d once heard to describe the old support ship’s personnel), which included an additional counsellor to take some of the burden off of herself—though she’d never heard of a Zaldan in the position before.
As soon as the courier arrived, the crew got to work with diagnostics and system status checks before the ship was to depart. They had barely a week after the ship’s completion to put her through a test flight and await the rest of the crew to arrive, before meeting up with the Fourth Fleet and being prepared for the last battle of the Dominion War. As had been the case for the crew over the last eighteen months, there was too much to do and not enough time to do it.
She was worried about how the two halves of the crew (those that had served on the old Orion and those joining anew on the Orion-II) would mesh together before being thrown in at the deep end, but she just had to hope that they could. It was something she would be keeping a very close eye on, now more than ever they needed to be one cohesive unit.
“Penny for your thoughts?” a familiar deep, husky voice asked from behind her.
Myza glanced up as Doctor Yeema Ad’u came the table and sat in one of the empty chairs. The Arcadian fixed her with an unblinking look from her large grey eyes, her large almost featureless face gave little away—it wasn’t a surprise the ship’s CMO was one of the best poker players they had.
“I was just dwelling on how things were a month ago.”
Ad’u nodded. “It’s been chaotic, that’s for sure, but you’re doing alright?”
She smiled at the surgeon. “As well as can be expected. In less than ten hours, we’ll be departing, heading out to face who knows what the Dominion has waiting for us. It’s not exactly an easy situation to process.”
“Prepare for the worst and hope for the best. That’s all we can really do.”
Myza chuckled humourlessly to herself. “Have you ever noticed the sheer number of idioms and sayings humans have for different situations?”
“It’s how they’ve wormed their way into almost every other Federation members lexicon that I find most worrying, who knew humans were so sneaky?”
She had to laugh at that. “Now that you mention it.”
Ad’u responded with a throaty chuckle and a small smile. “When this war is over, that can be a topic of study to write a paper on. Before then however, we have to make sure we’re ready for what tomorrow will bring and a good night’s rest will be key to that.”
“You’re right of course, Doctor. I’ll be heading to bed in a moment.”
“Be sure that you do, Myza. Good night.”
“Good night.”
With that, Ad’u gave a slight bow of her oversized head, rose and left the mess hall. Myza took a moment to focus on the viewport she’d been staring through, finally taking note of the hundreds of Federation, Klingon and Romulan ships that orbited around Deep Space 9, the staging ground for the Allied Forces before their last battle.
“Hope for the best,” she repeated to herself, before standing and heading for her quarters for what would surely be a tentative nights rest.
* * * * *
The previous U.S.S. Orion had been a ninety year old Constellation-Class ship, which had spent longer in a surplus depot than on active duty, only to be hastily reactivated, brought up to minimal operating standards and put to work. As such, the old ship was a continuous project always needing something repaired, replaced, patched up or bypassed just to keep her flying. For any engineer, it would’ve been a headache, but for then-twenty-four year old Enan Lanali, she had loved the challenge the ship presented. No two days were ever the same; as such, she came to know every system inside out, and could probably draw its circuit diagrams in her sleep.
The Orion-II however was a very different beast, though not without her own set of issues. The Norway-Class has come into service before Starfleet knew of the damage warp travel did to subspace and when the isolinear processor was the standard on all ships, in recent years though most shipyards were steadily replacing both systems for newer ones. This meant the original warp core, with its stack of doughnut-shaped rings, was replaced with one that was a swirling mass of colours and the computer processors were bioneural circuits, both of which had initially been devised for the Intrepid-Class. This meant that structural redesigns were needed to accommodate the new tech—which wouldn’t have been a problem had the shipyard been given sufficient time, but with so many ships produced so quickly then things weren’t as finished as they should’ve been. The need for as many ships as possible had also left sections of the interior unfinished, or hastily put together.
It did mean though that instead of twiddling her thumbs with an immaculate new ship, Lanali had plenty to be getting on with. Enough to keep her occupied and not dwell on what they were about to face.
She shook her head and refocused her attention on the power distribution grid. After a moment, she pointed at a section. “If we’re going to have any problems with switching to emergency backup, it’ll be located there.”
Beside her, Lieutenant j.g. Natalie Jurex, the newly appointed operations manager, scrutinised the display. The half-Betazoid was already known to most of the crew, being a survivor from the U.S.S. DeVier, a ship that was struck by an experimental biological weapon five months ago—that had seen the Orion lose two of its own, including Doctor Sioll Baxx. Though Jurex couldn’t be blamed for what had happened, she was a reminder of how the crew had lost a valued member of its dysfunctional family. However, the ops officer was working hard to prove herself and, given the DeVier had been a Yeager-type ship (a bewildering display of form and function, that rammed two eras of technology together and expected them to work together) she’d asked the younger woman’s opinion on the power grid.
“There’s only one EPS breaker in that section, one surge and that would be the entire network compromised.”
“Precisely. We don’t have time to jury-rig anything for backup, so I’ve had a team run a hard-line to adjacent sections just in case. It might not be pretty, but it’ll make sure that should we lose primary and secondary power that we’ll have something to keep the lights on a little longer, but I’d advise not running too much through there once the battle starts.”
“Got it.” She looked at the display for a moment longer. “If we need to bypass power, I’ll make sure it goes through here and here instead.”
“Sounds like a plan, Lieutenant.”
“Please, call me Nat.”
“Sure thing and feel free to call me Enan.”
“Will do,” she said with a grin that made her look even younger.
She has to be, what, three years younger than me. So how is she making me feel so old? Lanali asked herself, before shaking her head clear of the thought. Since the DeVier incident Jurex had been closely monitored and assessed, both medically and psychologically, and had shown herself to be highly resilient and coping with the loss of her shipmates in a very mature manner. The new ops officer was definitely a boon for the ship, they were lucky to have her.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the doors of the main entrance open and a tall, strapping man in a red uniform enter. Even just the sideward glimpse of him was enough to make her smile. Turning, she took in Lieutenant Commander Aleksander Jachim, whose face was neutral, his eyes quickly taking in everything around him before settling on the two senior staff members. Jurex stiffened her posture as she turned to him.
“What’s our status down here?”
“All fully operational, XO,” she replied with a playful smile on her lips, “we’ve just finished going over all the necessary options for emergency bypasses, damage control and systems management once the battle starts.”
“Very well. Lieutenant Jurex, we’ll be reaching the border in an hour, you’d best take your station.”
“Aye sir,” she said with a nod, then looked at Lanali and gave her a small smile.
“I’ll see you on the other side, Nat.”
“You too, Enan.”
The Betazoid/Human officer headed for the exit, as the pair of them looked after her. Once she left, Jachim looked back at Lanali, his face finally softening and the slightest hint of a smile tugged at his lips.
“I hope she copes with what we’re about to face.”
She rested a hand in his right bicep. “She’s made of stronger stuff than appearances would suggest.” She stopped herself short, not wanting to jinx them—since the last time many of them had faced a tactical situation, they’d lost their ship and ten crewmates.
“Just like you,” his soft voice was almost lost under the throb of the warp core.
Jachim took her hand and she felt how sweaty his palm was. She glanced down at it, confused, looking back up at his face when he said, “I know it might be a little sudden, and I don’t expect an answer this very second, but,” he paused and took a steadying breath, “what would you say if I asked you to marry me once this war is all over?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
He let out a nervous laugh. “What would you think about getting engaged?”
“Is this a hypothetical query, or are you actually asking me?”
Still holding her hand, in the middle of the engine room where a sizeable portion of her crew was watching them, Jachim lowered himself onto one knee.
“Enan Lanali, I love you. Would you do me the great honour of agreeing to be my wife?”
She opened her mouth but found no words. All around she was keenly aware of the assembled officers, non-coms and crewmen stopping what they were doing and watching them—the new additions clearly perplexed at what the first officer was doing. She could feel her cheeks burn, not quite believing just what he was doing.
“Get up,” she hissed at him.
He stood once more, now his turn to grin. “If the events of the last few weeks has taught me anything it’s that I don’t want to lose you, so think about it.”
Before she could react, he leaned in and kissed her. Though it lasted only a few seconds, her head was spinning so much that she could barely register the passage of time. When their lips parted, he gave her one last smile before heading back towards the door he’d entered through.
Of all the things to happen today, being proposed too hadn’t even entered her subconscious mind, she’d been so focused on ensuring the ship and her people were ready that she’d barely had a chance to think about anything else. She looked after him as those around them looked from him to her and back again, all of them clearly in disbelief about what they’d just witnessed, not to mention the fact she hadn’t answered.
When the escape pods had launched, all she’d thought about was whether Jachim had made it, hearing his voice after the Orion had exploded had been such an intense feeling of relief, all she wanted was to curl up beside him and be held tightly. Though it had barely been four months since they’d admitted how they felt for one another, she had never felt so strongly for anyone else, so much so that she didn’t know how she’d have coped had he been among those who’d died that day.
“Yes!”
The single word echoed around the dual levelled engine room, stopping Jachim in his tracks as the doors opened for him. He turned back to her with a wide smile, all pretence of the stoic, all-business officer had vanished. He gave her a nod and headed out the door, very nearly with a literal skip in his step.
When the doors closed behind him, she took a deep breath and then looked around to find all those present looking at her. Her cheeks began to burn again. Though she loved Jachim, she could’ve easily throttled him at that moment.
“Whoever isn’t back to work in the next two seconds is uninvited to my wedding.”
Promptly, the engineering staff resumed their duties; as such, they all missed the smirk on the chief engineer’s face. She was going to make damned sure the ship got through this final battle in one piece, no matter what it took. She had a man that loved her, who she wanted to spend her life with, and nothing was going to stop them from being together.
* * * * *
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