I have also been posting Star Trek Edison on Ad Astra for uninterrupted reading.
Star Trek Edison:A Muddled Reawakeing.
Star Trek Edison:A Muddled Reawakeing.
Star Trek Edison Episode One:A Muddled Reawakening
- Thread starter Bynar0110
- Start date
I want to thank Robert Bruce Scott for proofreading this chapter.
--
Stardate 38680.77 (Sep 6, 2361)
Starbase One- The Galleria
The dimly lit ambiance of The Whiskey Row enveloped Ensign Claire McCallister like a warming blanket as she stepped inside, the noise of the bustling crowd dulling to a soothing hum. A bouquet of aromas kissed her senses—freshly baked canapés against the subtle hint of Andorian ale mingling in the air. She took a deep breath, allowing the space's intimacy to ground her.
“Just find a booth and breathe,” she whispered to herself, her heart racing with excitement and apprehension.
Navigating through the crowd, Claire's gaze darted to and fro until she spotted a cozy booth by the window. Relief washed over her as she nestled into the cushioned seat, her eyes drifting to the starship docking bay just outside. A Lurian merchant slumped face down on the bar, a comical warning about the potency of Andorian brews, and Claire couldn’t help but chuckle.
As she settled in, a waiter approached—azure-skinned, with eyes that sparkled like the ocean. “What can I get for you, Ensign?” he asked, a friendly glint in his gaze.
“A Miller Ultra Plus, please,” Claire replied, her pulse quickening as she struggled to mask her nerves.
“Anything else?” the waiter inquired, pen poised over his notepad.
“No, that’s all, thank you,” she managed, gratefulness slipping into her voice as he accepted the order with a nod and a broad smile.
The moment he departed, Claire let her shoulders relax, her gaze still tracing the lit expanse of the docking bay. She inhaled deeply, searching for her sense of calm before the new chapter of her life aboard the USS Edison began.
Suddenly, a gentle squeeze on her shoulder sent a flutter of nerves racing through her. Claire turned, meeting the steely yet warm gaze of Rear Admiral Alynna Nechayev—her godmother. For a heartbeat, anticipation clashed with trepidation; she tried to summon her composure as the Admiral settled into the booth opposite her.
“I see even new graduates find their way to The Whiskey Row,” Admiral Nechayev remarked, her voice a blend of authority and comfort.
“Um, yes… Aunt Ally—Admiral Nechayev,” Claire stuttered, instinctively correcting herself but feeling the tension in her chest ease under the Admiral's steady gaze.
Just then, Zola returned with Claire’s drink and acknowledged the Admiral with a respectful bow. “Admiral Nechayev, always a pleasure. What can I get for you?”
“Just a cup of tea and a plate of Bularian canapés and watercress sandwiches, please—enough for my goddaughter as well,” she replied, her authoritative tone now edged with a softer command.
With an affirming nod, Zola disappeared back into the throng of patrons. Claire stole a glance at her godmother, studying the way Alynna leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with genuine inquiry.
“So, Claire,” the Admiral began, her voice less formal now, “how are you feeling about your assignment? I know your mother is the commanding officer.” The concern in her tone made Claire’s heart flutter.
“It’s a bit daunting,” Claire exhaled, her fingers nervously picking at the edge of the tablecloth. “I don’t want to be seen as… Captain Grace McCallister’s daughter. I want this to be about my own merits.”
She hesitated, the words tumbling from her with unexpected urgency. “I want people to see me as—Claire the officer, not just someone riding on the coattails of my family’s legacy.” Her voice trembled slightly, an undercurrent of emotion threading her words.
The Admiral’s brow furrowed in understanding as she reached across the table, her hand covering Claire’s. “That must be incredibly tough for you,” she said softly. “You’ve earned your place. It’s okay to feel uncertain, especially in the shadow of such accomplished family.”
Claire finally met her godmother’s steady gaze, seeking strength in her words. “Thank you, Aunt Ally. It means a lot.”
A warm smile blossomed on Alynna’s lips; she leaned back with a hint of relief glimmering in her eyes. “And remember, if you ever feel overwhelmed, you can always reach out—just as your godmother, not as an admiral.”
A small smile tugged at Claire’s lips, gratitude infusing the air between them. “I will. It’s nice to know I have someone who understands.”
“Good,” Alynna affirmed, a new air of buoyancy in her tone. “Now let’s eat and chat about something lighter.”
As their food arrived, Zola effortlessly placing the colorful plates before them, Claire took a sip of her beer, curiosity igniting her next question. “Aunt Ally, how did you know I’d be here?”
With a soft chuckle, Alynna took a bite of her canapé, a glimmer of mischief in her eye. “I have my methods for keeping tabs on those I care about. Plus, I couldn’t let the only child of Grace McCallister begin this adventure alone without checking in.”
There was a pause as Claire scanned her godmother’s expression, sensing the weight of unspoken concerns. “Furthermore,” the Admiral continued, her voice low, “I have some official Starfleet business to discuss with your mother regarding that mysterious object passing through Federation space—the one that Zara Zh’tialnor and the Galaxian News Network can’t seem to stop sensationalizing, much to the Federation Council’s dismay.”
Claire felt a thrill of intrigue at the mention, her worries temporarily forgotten as the conversations of the bar washed over them.
The conversation was abruptly halted when the Starbase Public Address system crackled to life. “Attention all Starfleet Personnel waiting for the arrival of the USS Edison. Please report to the Embarking/Debarking area. USS Edison has just passed Pluto and will be arriving at Earth in the next hour.”
The Admiral’s eyes twinkled with anticipation as she stood up. “Well, that means us, Claire.”
Claire couldn’t contain her excitement; her nerves danced in her stomach like butterflies as she stood.
Just then, Zola approached their table, a pleasant smile on his face. Admiral Nechayev reached for her pocket, retrieving a shiny Federation credit chip. After sliding it across the table, she offered Zola a grateful nod. “Thank you for your service,” she said warmly as he lifted the payment, his demeanor brightening further at the gesture.
END
--
Stardate 38680.77 (Sep 6, 2361)
Starbase One- The Galleria
The dimly lit ambiance of The Whiskey Row enveloped Ensign Claire McCallister like a warming blanket as she stepped inside, the noise of the bustling crowd dulling to a soothing hum. A bouquet of aromas kissed her senses—freshly baked canapés against the subtle hint of Andorian ale mingling in the air. She took a deep breath, allowing the space's intimacy to ground her.
“Just find a booth and breathe,” she whispered to herself, her heart racing with excitement and apprehension.
Navigating through the crowd, Claire's gaze darted to and fro until she spotted a cozy booth by the window. Relief washed over her as she nestled into the cushioned seat, her eyes drifting to the starship docking bay just outside. A Lurian merchant slumped face down on the bar, a comical warning about the potency of Andorian brews, and Claire couldn’t help but chuckle.
As she settled in, a waiter approached—azure-skinned, with eyes that sparkled like the ocean. “What can I get for you, Ensign?” he asked, a friendly glint in his gaze.
“A Miller Ultra Plus, please,” Claire replied, her pulse quickening as she struggled to mask her nerves.
“Anything else?” the waiter inquired, pen poised over his notepad.
“No, that’s all, thank you,” she managed, gratefulness slipping into her voice as he accepted the order with a nod and a broad smile.
The moment he departed, Claire let her shoulders relax, her gaze still tracing the lit expanse of the docking bay. She inhaled deeply, searching for her sense of calm before the new chapter of her life aboard the USS Edison began.
Suddenly, a gentle squeeze on her shoulder sent a flutter of nerves racing through her. Claire turned, meeting the steely yet warm gaze of Rear Admiral Alynna Nechayev—her godmother. For a heartbeat, anticipation clashed with trepidation; she tried to summon her composure as the Admiral settled into the booth opposite her.
“I see even new graduates find their way to The Whiskey Row,” Admiral Nechayev remarked, her voice a blend of authority and comfort.
“Um, yes… Aunt Ally—Admiral Nechayev,” Claire stuttered, instinctively correcting herself but feeling the tension in her chest ease under the Admiral's steady gaze.
Just then, Zola returned with Claire’s drink and acknowledged the Admiral with a respectful bow. “Admiral Nechayev, always a pleasure. What can I get for you?”
“Just a cup of tea and a plate of Bularian canapés and watercress sandwiches, please—enough for my goddaughter as well,” she replied, her authoritative tone now edged with a softer command.
With an affirming nod, Zola disappeared back into the throng of patrons. Claire stole a glance at her godmother, studying the way Alynna leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with genuine inquiry.
“So, Claire,” the Admiral began, her voice less formal now, “how are you feeling about your assignment? I know your mother is the commanding officer.” The concern in her tone made Claire’s heart flutter.
“It’s a bit daunting,” Claire exhaled, her fingers nervously picking at the edge of the tablecloth. “I don’t want to be seen as… Captain Grace McCallister’s daughter. I want this to be about my own merits.”
She hesitated, the words tumbling from her with unexpected urgency. “I want people to see me as—Claire the officer, not just someone riding on the coattails of my family’s legacy.” Her voice trembled slightly, an undercurrent of emotion threading her words.
The Admiral’s brow furrowed in understanding as she reached across the table, her hand covering Claire’s. “That must be incredibly tough for you,” she said softly. “You’ve earned your place. It’s okay to feel uncertain, especially in the shadow of such accomplished family.”
Claire finally met her godmother’s steady gaze, seeking strength in her words. “Thank you, Aunt Ally. It means a lot.”
A warm smile blossomed on Alynna’s lips; she leaned back with a hint of relief glimmering in her eyes. “And remember, if you ever feel overwhelmed, you can always reach out—just as your godmother, not as an admiral.”
A small smile tugged at Claire’s lips, gratitude infusing the air between them. “I will. It’s nice to know I have someone who understands.”
“Good,” Alynna affirmed, a new air of buoyancy in her tone. “Now let’s eat and chat about something lighter.”
As their food arrived, Zola effortlessly placing the colorful plates before them, Claire took a sip of her beer, curiosity igniting her next question. “Aunt Ally, how did you know I’d be here?”
With a soft chuckle, Alynna took a bite of her canapé, a glimmer of mischief in her eye. “I have my methods for keeping tabs on those I care about. Plus, I couldn’t let the only child of Grace McCallister begin this adventure alone without checking in.”
There was a pause as Claire scanned her godmother’s expression, sensing the weight of unspoken concerns. “Furthermore,” the Admiral continued, her voice low, “I have some official Starfleet business to discuss with your mother regarding that mysterious object passing through Federation space—the one that Zara Zh’tialnor and the Galaxian News Network can’t seem to stop sensationalizing, much to the Federation Council’s dismay.”
Claire felt a thrill of intrigue at the mention, her worries temporarily forgotten as the conversations of the bar washed over them.
The conversation was abruptly halted when the Starbase Public Address system crackled to life. “Attention all Starfleet Personnel waiting for the arrival of the USS Edison. Please report to the Embarking/Debarking area. USS Edison has just passed Pluto and will be arriving at Earth in the next hour.”
The Admiral’s eyes twinkled with anticipation as she stood up. “Well, that means us, Claire.”
Claire couldn’t contain her excitement; her nerves danced in her stomach like butterflies as she stood.
Just then, Zola approached their table, a pleasant smile on his face. Admiral Nechayev reached for her pocket, retrieving a shiny Federation credit chip. After sliding it across the table, she offered Zola a grateful nod. “Thank you for your service,” she said warmly as he lifted the payment, his demeanor brightening further at the gesture.
END
Really nice work and the first Trek fanfic writer I've seen humanize Nechayev.
Thanks!! rbs
Thanks!! rbs
I felt like TNG and DS9 just gave a one sided view of her character.
Nechayev needed a softer side.Nice! Well done with the opening too. Nechayev on godmother duty.
I want to thank Robert Bruce Scott for proofreading this chapter.
Stardate 38680.87 (Sep 6, 2361)
Captain’s Log - Supplemental: The USS Edison has arrived at Starbase One, preparing for essential repairs. After an extended deployment along the Cardassian Border, a brief shore leave for the crew looks promising. Rear Admiral Alynna Nechayev has called for a meeting regarding the mysterious object currently traversing Federation space. While I anticipate reconnecting with her, ensuring my crew has this chance to recuperate remains a priority.
USS Edison- Main Bridge
“Approaching Starbase,” Lieutenant Andrei Kamarov announced, his voice steady as he narrowed his focus on the dimly lit viewscreen where Starbase One gradually took shape. His fingers danced over the controls, a practiced precision evident in the way he handled the helm.
“Slow to 1/8 impulse, Mr. Kamarov,” Captain Grace McCallister instructed, the tone of her voice firm yet composed. A tension hung in the air, the bridge crew tensing in anticipation of the docking sequence.
With a slight nod, Kamarov adjusted their speed, the ship gliding forward with a grace either unseen or overlooked, a testament to its well-worn design. “1/8 impulse, Kapitan.”
“Signal the Starbase we’re ready for docking procedures, Mr. Thess,” Grace added, her gaze sweeping across her crew. Each member was already settling into their respective roles, like musicians in a practiced ensemble.
“Understood, Captain,” replied Lt. Commander Thess, the Andorian chief of security. His azure skin shimmered under the bridge lights as he leaned slightly forward, antennae twitching. “Starbase Control, this is the Edison, ready for docking maneuvers.” His tone was brisk, yet measured.
A moment later, the calm, authoritative voice from Starbase Control echoed through the bridge. “Edison, you are cleared to proceed with docking.”
Grace exhaled softly, allowing a moment of relief to wash over her. “Acknowledged. Thank you, Starbase Control.”
Commander Icid Ghaila met her gaze, a subtle nod of understanding passing between them. The Bajoran’s eyes twinkled beneath the bridge lights, a warm acknowledgment of the crew’s well-deserved respite. Grace knew this downtime meant more than rest; it signified reunion, especially since her daughter, Ensign Claire McCallister, would soon be aboard.
“Lock on, Mr. Kamarov,” Icid instructed, her voice carrying a gentle firmness. Her Bajoran eyes reflecting the subdued lights of the bridge. The faint scar on her nose, a testament to her past, seemed almost to echo the silent support she radiated to her fellow officers.
“Systems locked, Commander,” Kamarov reported, maintaining a calm exterior as the bridge lights shifted to a serene blue, echoing his steady demeanor.
“Spacedock, you have control,” Grace confirmed, her voice firm, though a subtle undercurrent of emotion flickered beneath, reminiscent of the past while reaching toward the future.
“Acknowledged, Edison. Welcome home,” came the welcoming voice from Starbase Control, wrapping around Grace like a familiar embrace.
As the ship slipped into the docking bay, Grace leaned back in her chair, feeling the familiar rhythm of the Edison settle around her. Outside, other starships moved against the starry backdrop, one Galaxy Class vessel in particular catching her eye as it glided into view, a reminder of both heritage and future possibilities.
“Would you look at that,” she murmured, barely more than a whisper, a sense of hope igniting within her. Each ship, a vessel of stories yet to be written, symbolized the adventures that awaited beyond the stars.
END
Stardate 38680.87 (Sep 6, 2361)
Captain’s Log - Supplemental: The USS Edison has arrived at Starbase One, preparing for essential repairs. After an extended deployment along the Cardassian Border, a brief shore leave for the crew looks promising. Rear Admiral Alynna Nechayev has called for a meeting regarding the mysterious object currently traversing Federation space. While I anticipate reconnecting with her, ensuring my crew has this chance to recuperate remains a priority.
USS Edison- Main Bridge
“Approaching Starbase,” Lieutenant Andrei Kamarov announced, his voice steady as he narrowed his focus on the dimly lit viewscreen where Starbase One gradually took shape. His fingers danced over the controls, a practiced precision evident in the way he handled the helm.
“Slow to 1/8 impulse, Mr. Kamarov,” Captain Grace McCallister instructed, the tone of her voice firm yet composed. A tension hung in the air, the bridge crew tensing in anticipation of the docking sequence.
With a slight nod, Kamarov adjusted their speed, the ship gliding forward with a grace either unseen or overlooked, a testament to its well-worn design. “1/8 impulse, Kapitan.”
“Signal the Starbase we’re ready for docking procedures, Mr. Thess,” Grace added, her gaze sweeping across her crew. Each member was already settling into their respective roles, like musicians in a practiced ensemble.
“Understood, Captain,” replied Lt. Commander Thess, the Andorian chief of security. His azure skin shimmered under the bridge lights as he leaned slightly forward, antennae twitching. “Starbase Control, this is the Edison, ready for docking maneuvers.” His tone was brisk, yet measured.
A moment later, the calm, authoritative voice from Starbase Control echoed through the bridge. “Edison, you are cleared to proceed with docking.”
Grace exhaled softly, allowing a moment of relief to wash over her. “Acknowledged. Thank you, Starbase Control.”
Commander Icid Ghaila met her gaze, a subtle nod of understanding passing between them. The Bajoran’s eyes twinkled beneath the bridge lights, a warm acknowledgment of the crew’s well-deserved respite. Grace knew this downtime meant more than rest; it signified reunion, especially since her daughter, Ensign Claire McCallister, would soon be aboard.
“Lock on, Mr. Kamarov,” Icid instructed, her voice carrying a gentle firmness. Her Bajoran eyes reflecting the subdued lights of the bridge. The faint scar on her nose, a testament to her past, seemed almost to echo the silent support she radiated to her fellow officers.
“Systems locked, Commander,” Kamarov reported, maintaining a calm exterior as the bridge lights shifted to a serene blue, echoing his steady demeanor.
“Spacedock, you have control,” Grace confirmed, her voice firm, though a subtle undercurrent of emotion flickered beneath, reminiscent of the past while reaching toward the future.
“Acknowledged, Edison. Welcome home,” came the welcoming voice from Starbase Control, wrapping around Grace like a familiar embrace.
As the ship slipped into the docking bay, Grace leaned back in her chair, feeling the familiar rhythm of the Edison settle around her. Outside, other starships moved against the starry backdrop, one Galaxy Class vessel in particular catching her eye as it glided into view, a reminder of both heritage and future possibilities.
“Would you look at that,” she murmured, barely more than a whisper, a sense of hope igniting within her. Each ship, a vessel of stories yet to be written, symbolized the adventures that awaited beyond the stars.
END
Last edited:
Nice tone. Important to remember that this kind of scene is a staple for the television/movie franchise. Not everything has to be a crisis. Take time to enjoy the Trek-verse. Thanks!! rbs
@Robert Bruce Scott Would the Enterprise be in service in 2361?
I want to thank Robert Bruce Scott for proofreading this chapter.
Stardate 38680.89 (Sep 6, 2361)
Starbase One - Embarking/Debarking Area
The steady hum of Starbase One resonated through Ensign Claire McCallister as she leaned against the cool observation window, a subtle tremor of nervous anticipation coursing through her. The bustling embarkation bay, a vibrant nexus of activity, filled her with a sense of both excitement and apprehension. The USS Edison, a sleek embodiment of Excelsior-class engineering, smoothly docked at its designated berth. A quiet hiss of escaping air punctuated the background symphony of Starfleet personnel moving with purpose, their crisp uniforms echoing the ship's efficient atmosphere.
Claire observed automated cargo containers soaring overhead, their lights tracing bright lines across the polished metal flooring. Her gaze was drawn to the airlock corridor leading towards the Edison, a tangible promise of new challenges and the camaraderie of shipboard life.
Beside her stood Rear Admiral Alynna Nechayev, her presence radiating the quiet authority of a seasoned officer. The illumination of the bay softened the lines on her face, and Claire felt a comforting weight as her godmother's arm settled around her shoulders.
“The Excelsior-class design remains a testament to Starfleet engineering,” Alynna remarked, her gaze fixed on the Edison, a hint of quiet pride colouring her words.
“It’s still somewhat surreal to be joining the Edison, serving alongside my mother,” Claire replied, her voice even but reflecting the underlying tension of her emotions. “What are your impressions, Aunt Ally? Do you believe I am adequately prepared?”
Alynna’s lips curved into a gentle smile. “Prepared? Claire, you’ve been prepared for this since the day you were born. Your mother and I have witnessed your inherent drive – the same spark that once fueled both of us. You bear our legacy, Claire.” Alynna’s conviction settled over Claire, providing a sense of grounding amidst the uncertainty.
Claire’s mind drifted to her mother, Grace, and memories of laughter and shared purpose from her time at the Academy with Alynna. However, the memory of her father, Dracus, also lingered, a bittersweet reminder.
“Your father,” Alynna began, her voice softening, “possessed an extraordinary ability to find joy in every moment. Were he present today, he would undoubtedly be sharing his infectious laughter, regaling us with one of his captivating stories. He would take immense pride in the woman you have become.”
Before Claire could respond, the hum of the bay was briefly interrupted by the arrival of two Starfleet officers, their movements deliberate and confident. The first, a woman of compact stature, moved forward with an aura of resolute authority.
“Commander Kathryn Janeway, Chief Operations Officer, reporting for duty,” she announced, her voice clear and assured. Alynna extended her hand in a firm handshake, her gaze appraising Janeway as they exchanged greetings.
The second officer, taller and possessing a warm, approachable air, introduced herself. “Commander Andrea Dehner, ship’s counsellor, reporting for duty, Admiral.”
Alynna’s nod indicated her approval. “Commander Dehner, we eagerly anticipate your contributions. Ensign McCallister, allow me to introduce you to the newest members of Captain McCallister's senior staff.”
Claire extended a hand towards Janeway, her pulse quickening. As their hands met, a subtle spark of energy filled the air. “Ensign Claire McCallister, ma’am. It is an honour to meet you.”
Janeway’s grip was firm, her smile a subtle but welcoming gesture. “Ensign, the pleasure is mine. I look forward to our collaboration.”
In that brief exchange, an unspoken connection flickered between them, a subtle hint of mutual attraction. A warm flush crept onto Claire’s cheeks. She sensed a spark of interest in Janeway’s gaze, a subtle shift beyond the formality of the introduction.
Adjusting her demeanor to a more professional tone, Claire turned to Commander Dehner. “Commander, it’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”
Dehner's smile was genuine and open. “The pleasure is mine, Ensign. I've heard exceptional things about your mother.”
Claire’s chest swelled with pride. “She truly is remarkable, Commander. It has been a lifelong aspiration of mine to serve alongside her.”
“Transitioning from the Academy to active duty is a significant step,” Andrea noted, her voice gentle and reassuring. “How are you finding the experience thus far?”
Claire hesitated, momentarily lost in thought. “It’s somewhat daunting, but I’m prepared to embrace the challenges ahead.”
“Growth and challenges are inherent to this journey,” Andrea reassured, her kindness evident. “Please remember my office door is always open.”
Claire nodded, her gratitude palpable. “Thank you, Commander.”
“Commanders,” Alynna announced, her tone shifting back to the authoritative voice befitting her rank, “we’ll assemble for a brief welcoming meeting within the hour.”
As Janeway and Dehner turned to depart, Janeway paused, their eyes meeting in a fleeting but profound moment of shared awareness. Alynna observed the interaction, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
“Ah, Commander Janeway, I believe you will find Ensign McCallister to be a valuable asset to the Edison’s crew,” Alynna remarked, her voice laced with a subtle insinuation.
Janeway’s smile widened, a hint of intrigue in her eyes. “I harbour no doubt, Admiral. I anticipate getting to know Ensign McCallister better.”
“Commanders,” Alynna interjected, her tone firm yet respectful, “I trust you’ll find your quarters and settle in. The Edison’s crew eagerly awaits your arrival.”
Janeway and Dehner exchanged acknowledging nods, determination etched on their faces. “Aye, Admiral,” they responded in unison, turning towards the airlock corridor.
Claire watched them go, a mixture of anticipation and determination surging through her. As she followed her godmother, Alynna, towards the airlock, she felt a sense of readiness to embrace whatever the cosmos might hold.
END
Stardate 38680.89 (Sep 6, 2361)
Starbase One - Embarking/Debarking Area
The steady hum of Starbase One resonated through Ensign Claire McCallister as she leaned against the cool observation window, a subtle tremor of nervous anticipation coursing through her. The bustling embarkation bay, a vibrant nexus of activity, filled her with a sense of both excitement and apprehension. The USS Edison, a sleek embodiment of Excelsior-class engineering, smoothly docked at its designated berth. A quiet hiss of escaping air punctuated the background symphony of Starfleet personnel moving with purpose, their crisp uniforms echoing the ship's efficient atmosphere.
Claire observed automated cargo containers soaring overhead, their lights tracing bright lines across the polished metal flooring. Her gaze was drawn to the airlock corridor leading towards the Edison, a tangible promise of new challenges and the camaraderie of shipboard life.
Beside her stood Rear Admiral Alynna Nechayev, her presence radiating the quiet authority of a seasoned officer. The illumination of the bay softened the lines on her face, and Claire felt a comforting weight as her godmother's arm settled around her shoulders.
“The Excelsior-class design remains a testament to Starfleet engineering,” Alynna remarked, her gaze fixed on the Edison, a hint of quiet pride colouring her words.
“It’s still somewhat surreal to be joining the Edison, serving alongside my mother,” Claire replied, her voice even but reflecting the underlying tension of her emotions. “What are your impressions, Aunt Ally? Do you believe I am adequately prepared?”
Alynna’s lips curved into a gentle smile. “Prepared? Claire, you’ve been prepared for this since the day you were born. Your mother and I have witnessed your inherent drive – the same spark that once fueled both of us. You bear our legacy, Claire.” Alynna’s conviction settled over Claire, providing a sense of grounding amidst the uncertainty.
Claire’s mind drifted to her mother, Grace, and memories of laughter and shared purpose from her time at the Academy with Alynna. However, the memory of her father, Dracus, also lingered, a bittersweet reminder.
“Your father,” Alynna began, her voice softening, “possessed an extraordinary ability to find joy in every moment. Were he present today, he would undoubtedly be sharing his infectious laughter, regaling us with one of his captivating stories. He would take immense pride in the woman you have become.”
Before Claire could respond, the hum of the bay was briefly interrupted by the arrival of two Starfleet officers, their movements deliberate and confident. The first, a woman of compact stature, moved forward with an aura of resolute authority.
“Commander Kathryn Janeway, Chief Operations Officer, reporting for duty,” she announced, her voice clear and assured. Alynna extended her hand in a firm handshake, her gaze appraising Janeway as they exchanged greetings.
The second officer, taller and possessing a warm, approachable air, introduced herself. “Commander Andrea Dehner, ship’s counsellor, reporting for duty, Admiral.”
Alynna’s nod indicated her approval. “Commander Dehner, we eagerly anticipate your contributions. Ensign McCallister, allow me to introduce you to the newest members of Captain McCallister's senior staff.”
Claire extended a hand towards Janeway, her pulse quickening. As their hands met, a subtle spark of energy filled the air. “Ensign Claire McCallister, ma’am. It is an honour to meet you.”
Janeway’s grip was firm, her smile a subtle but welcoming gesture. “Ensign, the pleasure is mine. I look forward to our collaboration.”
In that brief exchange, an unspoken connection flickered between them, a subtle hint of mutual attraction. A warm flush crept onto Claire’s cheeks. She sensed a spark of interest in Janeway’s gaze, a subtle shift beyond the formality of the introduction.
Adjusting her demeanor to a more professional tone, Claire turned to Commander Dehner. “Commander, it’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”
Dehner's smile was genuine and open. “The pleasure is mine, Ensign. I've heard exceptional things about your mother.”
Claire’s chest swelled with pride. “She truly is remarkable, Commander. It has been a lifelong aspiration of mine to serve alongside her.”
“Transitioning from the Academy to active duty is a significant step,” Andrea noted, her voice gentle and reassuring. “How are you finding the experience thus far?”
Claire hesitated, momentarily lost in thought. “It’s somewhat daunting, but I’m prepared to embrace the challenges ahead.”
“Growth and challenges are inherent to this journey,” Andrea reassured, her kindness evident. “Please remember my office door is always open.”
Claire nodded, her gratitude palpable. “Thank you, Commander.”
“Commanders,” Alynna announced, her tone shifting back to the authoritative voice befitting her rank, “we’ll assemble for a brief welcoming meeting within the hour.”
As Janeway and Dehner turned to depart, Janeway paused, their eyes meeting in a fleeting but profound moment of shared awareness. Alynna observed the interaction, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
“Ah, Commander Janeway, I believe you will find Ensign McCallister to be a valuable asset to the Edison’s crew,” Alynna remarked, her voice laced with a subtle insinuation.
Janeway’s smile widened, a hint of intrigue in her eyes. “I harbour no doubt, Admiral. I anticipate getting to know Ensign McCallister better.”
“Commanders,” Alynna interjected, her tone firm yet respectful, “I trust you’ll find your quarters and settle in. The Edison’s crew eagerly awaits your arrival.”
Janeway and Dehner exchanged acknowledging nods, determination etched on their faces. “Aye, Admiral,” they responded in unison, turning towards the airlock corridor.
Claire watched them go, a mixture of anticipation and determination surging through her. As she followed her godmother, Alynna, towards the airlock, she felt a sense of readiness to embrace whatever the cosmos might hold.
END
Last edited:
Interesting earlier assignment for Janeway. Considering her evident youth in the Voyager series, this is a young, brilliant and aggressive officer. Kirk was the youngest captain in Star Fleet at age 34. Janeway made captain at the very young age of 35. The average for naval captains is mid-40's.
Thanks!! rbs
Thanks!! rbs
I got some things planned for Janeway. I've already laid the foundation for one of those things in the latest chapter. I also hope you enjoyed my introduction for Commander Dehner.
Last edited:
I hope you liked the introduction of Janeway and Dhener.Love the nuance in character reactions. Just noticed you're almost starting to do the dialogue/description alternating thing I do.
Last edited:
Indeed! For Janeway, I kept thinking that someone needs to warn her about the Delta Quadrant.
I want to thank Robert Bruce Scott for proofreading this chapter.
Stardate 38680.73 (Sep 6, 2361)
United Federation of Planets Headquarters- Situation Room- San Francisco, Earth
Federation President Medeza Voser of Trill reclined in her chair, the room's hum a comforting backdrop to the thoughts swirling in her mind. Her keen, green-eyed glance swept over the security council members, their faces etched with the weight of the moment. The holoscreen cycled through news feeds, each offering a different take on the enigmatic object gliding through Federation space.
The Federation News Service maintained its usual composed demeanor, advocating for a cautious approach. Meanwhile, the Galaxian News Network's fervent commentary filled the room with a sense of impending doom, pointing fingers at the Federation's supposed inaction. The Interstellar Information Network sought balance, presenting facts and figures amidst the air of ambiguity.
President Voser, a distinguished student of the revered Trill diplomat Curzon Dax, embodied a harmony of passion and logic. Known for her deft handling of intricate political landscapes, she exuded a combination of resilience and maternal warmth. Her Trill lineage, with its profound symbiotic union between host and symbiont, lent her a singular insight into the art of leadership and unity.
On Voser's left, Admiral Clayton Flagg, the gruff Chief of Starfleet Operations, was locked in a heated debate with Ambassador Thogm Pronnik of Tellar. "If you think the Cardassians are going to back down because of some unidentified object in our space, Thogm, your optimism is commendable, but misplaced," Flagg shot back, frustration lacing his words.
Thogm's stout frame tensed. "And if your approach to every situation is to escalate tensions, we might as well prepare for another long conflict!" He crossed his arms, his words brimming with stubborn conviction. "This object needs a thorough check; ignoring it could be disastrous."
On Voser’s right, Ambassador Lwaxana Troi, the Speaker of the Federation Council, inched closer to the holoscreen, a hint of amusement on her face. "Ah, the drama, the flair, the sheer... enthusiasm of it all," she said, her fingers dancing across the controls to silence the Galaxian News Network's bombastic commentary.
Ambassador Troi’s laughter rang out, infusing the room with warmth and a dash of her unmistakable Betazoid charm. “It’s all about the theatrics, isn’t it? You’d think they were auditioning for a holodrama with the way they carry on. Perhaps if they devoted just a fraction of that energy to real journalism, they might actually unearth some truth instead of just hyperbole.”
The council members couldn’t help but share a chuckle, their earlier tension dissipating under Troi’s lively spirit. Once the laughter faded, she shot a playful glance back at the screen, an eyebrow raised. “Maybe we should send them a lovely gift basket—something delightful from Betazed. It wouldn’t improve their reporting, but at least it might sweeten their attitude…” Troi's words lingered, a playful yet pointed rebuke to the Galaxian News Network's antics, as the council turned their attention back to the matter at hand.
Across the table, the members of the Founders Council watched the exchange with varying degrees of interest. Each brought a unique heritage and viewpoint to the Federation’s complex tapestry.
Simone Archer, the steadfast Earth representative and descendant of the legendary Jonathan Archer, leaned into the conversation, her voice a blend of resolve and caution. "We need a balanced approach. The Cardassians are watching, but so are our citizens. We can't afford to look weak or reckless."
Varzo Z’Tell, the imposing Andorian representative with striking blue skin, nodded in agreement. “Simone’s right. Our actions must be informed. If we mishandle this, the war with the Cardassians could get a lot worse,” he said, his antennae twitching with urgency despite his otherwise calm demeanor.
Amidst the passionate exchanges, T’Lazarus, the Vulcan representative, remained a picture of tranquility. Her dark eyes held an impassive gaze as she observed her colleagues. “It’s only logical to assess the object calmly,” she stated, her voice steady and soothing. “We need to figure out its intent before we decide on any course of action that could lead to unnecessary conflict.”
The council took in T’Lazarus’s input. She continued, "It’s worth asking: why haven’t we sent a probe or even a starship to investigate? The longer we wait, the higher the risk of miscalculation."
Flagg's brow furrowed at the pointed question. "We’re mobilizing available resources, T’Lazarus. Sending starships would tip our hand and expose vulnerabilities—a risk we can’t take with the Cardassians watching our every move."
President Voser leaned in, her expression serious but open. “Admiral, we can’t just sit around and watch this unfold. What if we send out one of the new prototype transwarp probes? It could give us some real-time intel without drawing too much attention.”
Admiral Flagg raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched on his face. “A probe? You think that’s our best play right now? With how quickly this situation is escalating, it could be halfway to the other side of the quadrant before our little gadget even leaves the bay.”
Voser crossed her arms, a confident smile creeping onto her face. “This one’s built to handle that. It’s designed to chase down fast targets, deploy independent units for different functionality, and report back what it finds. Trust me, it can keep up with whatever’s out there.”
Flagg rubbed his chin thoughtfully, mulling over her confident pitch. “Okay, I’m listening. But we need to act fast. No room for hesitation here.”
T’Lazarus focused on Admiral Flagg, her raised eyebrow betraying her skepticism. “Admiral, you mentioned resources are being mobilized. Why haven’t we sent a dedicated ship to investigate yet? It feels like a missed opportunity, given what’s at stake.”
Admiral Flagg’s jaw set, his brow furrowing deeper. “We’re a bit stretched right now. Most of our ships are either on the frontlines, in dry dock for repairs, or tied up on long-term missions. We just don’t have any vessels available to send on a targeted investigation.”
Simone, sensing a chance to jump in, leaned forward. “With all due respect, Admiral, the Excelsior-class starship, Edison, is about to dock for resupply after patrolling the Cardassian border. It'd be a perfect fit for this task.”
President Voser’s interest piqued as she leaned in. “The Edison? What can you tell me about that ship?”
Simone’s enthusiasm was palpable. “Captain Grace McCallister’s in charge. She’s a solid officer and a close friend from the Academy. Honestly, she’d be ideal for this mission.”
Admiral Flagg shook his head, a frown crossing his face. “The Edison is a good ship, but Captain McCallister? Her record has some red flags. She has a reputation for bending the rules, and I’m not comfortable with her having family serving under her. Her niece is on the crew, and her daughter’s about to join. It feels like favoritism, and I suspect you know that."
Simone’s expression hardened, but she held her ground. “I know Captain McCallister, and she’s the best for this job. Just because her family serves with her doesn’t mean she can’t lead effectively. She handled a tense situation with three Cardassian cruisers back in ’58, saving lives and preventing a larger conflict.”
Flagg’s frustration bubbled over. “But what was the price? There were casualties aboard the Edison because of her methods. They were high, and they can’t be ignored.”
President Voser interjected firmly, sensing the tension building. “Admiral, I think Captain McCallister’s unconventional style might be exactly what we need. Simone, I want you to accompany the Edison as the Federation’s representative. Your presence will ensure transparency and reassure the public.”
After a moment of silent contemplation, Flagg’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “Fine. I’ll inform Admiral Nechayev to relay orders to McCallister once the Edison arrives. The Edison should be prepped for an immediate launch. I will also send out the order for Starbase One to deploy a probe right away.”
With a decisive nod, Voser concluded the meeting, marking the start of a new chapter in the Federation’s response to the mysterious object they were facing. The members of the council sprang into action, each focused and committed to their roles, embodying the spirit of Starfleet and the United Federation of Planets.
END
Stardate 38680.73 (Sep 6, 2361)
United Federation of Planets Headquarters- Situation Room- San Francisco, Earth
Federation President Medeza Voser of Trill reclined in her chair, the room's hum a comforting backdrop to the thoughts swirling in her mind. Her keen, green-eyed glance swept over the security council members, their faces etched with the weight of the moment. The holoscreen cycled through news feeds, each offering a different take on the enigmatic object gliding through Federation space.
The Federation News Service maintained its usual composed demeanor, advocating for a cautious approach. Meanwhile, the Galaxian News Network's fervent commentary filled the room with a sense of impending doom, pointing fingers at the Federation's supposed inaction. The Interstellar Information Network sought balance, presenting facts and figures amidst the air of ambiguity.
President Voser, a distinguished student of the revered Trill diplomat Curzon Dax, embodied a harmony of passion and logic. Known for her deft handling of intricate political landscapes, she exuded a combination of resilience and maternal warmth. Her Trill lineage, with its profound symbiotic union between host and symbiont, lent her a singular insight into the art of leadership and unity.
On Voser's left, Admiral Clayton Flagg, the gruff Chief of Starfleet Operations, was locked in a heated debate with Ambassador Thogm Pronnik of Tellar. "If you think the Cardassians are going to back down because of some unidentified object in our space, Thogm, your optimism is commendable, but misplaced," Flagg shot back, frustration lacing his words.
Thogm's stout frame tensed. "And if your approach to every situation is to escalate tensions, we might as well prepare for another long conflict!" He crossed his arms, his words brimming with stubborn conviction. "This object needs a thorough check; ignoring it could be disastrous."
On Voser’s right, Ambassador Lwaxana Troi, the Speaker of the Federation Council, inched closer to the holoscreen, a hint of amusement on her face. "Ah, the drama, the flair, the sheer... enthusiasm of it all," she said, her fingers dancing across the controls to silence the Galaxian News Network's bombastic commentary.
Ambassador Troi’s laughter rang out, infusing the room with warmth and a dash of her unmistakable Betazoid charm. “It’s all about the theatrics, isn’t it? You’d think they were auditioning for a holodrama with the way they carry on. Perhaps if they devoted just a fraction of that energy to real journalism, they might actually unearth some truth instead of just hyperbole.”
The council members couldn’t help but share a chuckle, their earlier tension dissipating under Troi’s lively spirit. Once the laughter faded, she shot a playful glance back at the screen, an eyebrow raised. “Maybe we should send them a lovely gift basket—something delightful from Betazed. It wouldn’t improve their reporting, but at least it might sweeten their attitude…” Troi's words lingered, a playful yet pointed rebuke to the Galaxian News Network's antics, as the council turned their attention back to the matter at hand.
Across the table, the members of the Founders Council watched the exchange with varying degrees of interest. Each brought a unique heritage and viewpoint to the Federation’s complex tapestry.
Simone Archer, the steadfast Earth representative and descendant of the legendary Jonathan Archer, leaned into the conversation, her voice a blend of resolve and caution. "We need a balanced approach. The Cardassians are watching, but so are our citizens. We can't afford to look weak or reckless."
Varzo Z’Tell, the imposing Andorian representative with striking blue skin, nodded in agreement. “Simone’s right. Our actions must be informed. If we mishandle this, the war with the Cardassians could get a lot worse,” he said, his antennae twitching with urgency despite his otherwise calm demeanor.
Amidst the passionate exchanges, T’Lazarus, the Vulcan representative, remained a picture of tranquility. Her dark eyes held an impassive gaze as she observed her colleagues. “It’s only logical to assess the object calmly,” she stated, her voice steady and soothing. “We need to figure out its intent before we decide on any course of action that could lead to unnecessary conflict.”
The council took in T’Lazarus’s input. She continued, "It’s worth asking: why haven’t we sent a probe or even a starship to investigate? The longer we wait, the higher the risk of miscalculation."
Flagg's brow furrowed at the pointed question. "We’re mobilizing available resources, T’Lazarus. Sending starships would tip our hand and expose vulnerabilities—a risk we can’t take with the Cardassians watching our every move."
President Voser leaned in, her expression serious but open. “Admiral, we can’t just sit around and watch this unfold. What if we send out one of the new prototype transwarp probes? It could give us some real-time intel without drawing too much attention.”
Admiral Flagg raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched on his face. “A probe? You think that’s our best play right now? With how quickly this situation is escalating, it could be halfway to the other side of the quadrant before our little gadget even leaves the bay.”
Voser crossed her arms, a confident smile creeping onto her face. “This one’s built to handle that. It’s designed to chase down fast targets, deploy independent units for different functionality, and report back what it finds. Trust me, it can keep up with whatever’s out there.”
Flagg rubbed his chin thoughtfully, mulling over her confident pitch. “Okay, I’m listening. But we need to act fast. No room for hesitation here.”
T’Lazarus focused on Admiral Flagg, her raised eyebrow betraying her skepticism. “Admiral, you mentioned resources are being mobilized. Why haven’t we sent a dedicated ship to investigate yet? It feels like a missed opportunity, given what’s at stake.”
Admiral Flagg’s jaw set, his brow furrowing deeper. “We’re a bit stretched right now. Most of our ships are either on the frontlines, in dry dock for repairs, or tied up on long-term missions. We just don’t have any vessels available to send on a targeted investigation.”
Simone, sensing a chance to jump in, leaned forward. “With all due respect, Admiral, the Excelsior-class starship, Edison, is about to dock for resupply after patrolling the Cardassian border. It'd be a perfect fit for this task.”
President Voser’s interest piqued as she leaned in. “The Edison? What can you tell me about that ship?”
Simone’s enthusiasm was palpable. “Captain Grace McCallister’s in charge. She’s a solid officer and a close friend from the Academy. Honestly, she’d be ideal for this mission.”
Admiral Flagg shook his head, a frown crossing his face. “The Edison is a good ship, but Captain McCallister? Her record has some red flags. She has a reputation for bending the rules, and I’m not comfortable with her having family serving under her. Her niece is on the crew, and her daughter’s about to join. It feels like favoritism, and I suspect you know that."
Simone’s expression hardened, but she held her ground. “I know Captain McCallister, and she’s the best for this job. Just because her family serves with her doesn’t mean she can’t lead effectively. She handled a tense situation with three Cardassian cruisers back in ’58, saving lives and preventing a larger conflict.”
Flagg’s frustration bubbled over. “But what was the price? There were casualties aboard the Edison because of her methods. They were high, and they can’t be ignored.”
President Voser interjected firmly, sensing the tension building. “Admiral, I think Captain McCallister’s unconventional style might be exactly what we need. Simone, I want you to accompany the Edison as the Federation’s representative. Your presence will ensure transparency and reassure the public.”
After a moment of silent contemplation, Flagg’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “Fine. I’ll inform Admiral Nechayev to relay orders to McCallister once the Edison arrives. The Edison should be prepped for an immediate launch. I will also send out the order for Starbase One to deploy a probe right away.”
With a decisive nod, Voser concluded the meeting, marking the start of a new chapter in the Federation’s response to the mysterious object they were facing. The members of the council sprang into action, each focused and committed to their roles, embodying the spirit of Starfleet and the United Federation of Planets.
END
Last edited:
Similar threads
