Star Trek: Four Years War
U.S.S. Renown
1.4 - A Call To Arms
Brydon J Sinclair
Chapter One
Mess Hall, U.S.S. Renown
Orbital Dry-Dock, Drakonis IV
Naya sat in the ships large canteen enjoying a light lunch, listening to the hustle, bustle and chatter around her. Though she had her own private dining room, she didn’t like using it if she was just on her own. On the table beside her Spanish omelette was the datapad that she always seemed to carry about with her, it listed all that needed to be done from battle drills to setting up breakfasts with her senior officers, so she could get to know them all a little better as individuals—it was something she had started on the Ptolemy when she took command and was determined to keep going on the Renown as well. It also kept her calendar in order, updated frequently by the administrative yeomen, at the top of which was fourteen-hundred hours when Lieutenant Commander Vogel was due to arrive—giving her eighty minutes to prepare to meet her new security chief.
She had just finished reading up on the report from Lieutenant K’Bentayr, regarding the ships upgraded phasers. The work had finished on time and all diagnostics showed that they were fully-functional—of course they would need the field test them to make sure, she just hoped that those tests wouldn’t be in battle with Klingon forces.
A loud ruckus of laughter called her attention to a corner in the table. The three occupants, all human and in blue uniforms, quickly quietened down as they noticed the attention they were getting, though still giggled and chucked amongst themselves. It was a reminder to her that most of this crew were tried and tested together, having spent anything from five months to eight years together. That time built up a strong camaraderie, one that she had enjoyed back on the old tug, but which she was noticeably left out of on the cruiser. Not surprising, seeing as how she had only been its captain for three days, was an unknown element and had brought in almost ninety new crewmembers—some of whom in senior positions above those who’d been next in line.
It would take time for the new and old crew to mesh, more than they had with the war creeping closer by the hour. She knew that there was some uncertainty among the crew about herself, though they had all heard what she’d done at Tighe system they still weren’t sure of how she’d cope with proper head-to-head full-scale battle. She had to wonder as well.
She shook the creeping sense of self-doubt from her mind and finished off her meal, scribbling down a few notes on her tablet to rise with the ship’s personnel and protocol officer—who she was meeting with at sixteen-hundred. Taking a moment to think, she looked up from the PADD just in time to see Commander Shanthi enter. His face was impassive—which she had quickly learnt was his default setting—though it was his eyes that gave him away. Though she had only really met him less than a day ago, he had old eyes that didn’t hide what he was really thinking—at least not to her. Before he even got to her, she knew what he was coming to say.
He came to a stop at her table, a hollow smile on his face, which was an act not to alarm the rest of the crew. She suddenly wished she’d chosen to have lunch in her private dining room.
“When?” she asked softly, trying hard not to let her anxiety show.
“They entered the sector ten minutes ago,” he told her, his voice so low that she could barely hear it. “Admiral Chang will be making an announcement in the next five minutes.”
“How long until they reach the system?”
“As little as fifty hours.”
She rose to her feet, picked up her PADD and headed for the exit, Shanthi beside her, whilst the tray forgotten was about on the table. Making a conscious decision not to rush, she didn’t want to put the crew on edge just yet, not until it was made official. Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait for the turbolift and rode it to the top of the saucer. The silence between them was oppressive, cutting off the air in the small carriage.
This was it. Any chance they had to prepare was over.
The lift came to a stop and she took a deep breath before the doors opened. Stepping out she surveyed the bridge, which was quiet. Lieutenant Thor sat at the communications station, which was between the two turbolifts along the aft bulkhead, listening intently to his earpiece. Six other consoles encircled the outer bulkhead: science, navigation subsystems, and auxiliary systems on the port side; command intelligence, engineering and environmental systems on starboard. Her chair was in the middle, whilst in front of her were three freestanding consoles, for navigation on port, helm in the middle, and tactical on starboard. Munro and Robbins were seated at the customary positions, Farog was settling in at his post, auxiliary and environmental were also occupied, though the rest were without operators.
Shanthi moved over to his console and set to work silently. She hung back, near the turbolift and communications, trying to calm her thundering heart. Thor glanced up at her, his brow furrowed, antennae twitching.
Before he could ask a light flashed on his board. He tapped a control, silencing the steady stream up update chatter he was getting from various sections of the ship, then brought up the new signal. He saw where it was coming from and then gave her a knowing look.
“Captain, incoming secure transmission from Vice Admiral Chang,” he announced, keeping his vone steady.
She nodded. “On screen, Mr Thor.”
Stepping forward, she stood by her chair, raising her chin slightly as she watched the viewscreen come to life. The Starfleet Command emblem appeared, then was replaced with the tired face of the Sector Commander.
“All ships in the Drakonis sector, this is Vice Admiral Chang. Minutes ago, the Klingon Imperial Navy entered the sector. Their course is set for Drakonis four,” the Admiral paused, letting the news sink in. Naya noticed that all of the bridge crew had stopped what they were doing and were keenly listening—they all knew they were about to receive their new orders.
“Our priority is to ensure the safe evacuation of the New Tokyo colony. As such, all forces in the sector will be fighting delaying tactics, to give the civilians as much time as possible to evacuate the planet and withdraw to the relative safety of Starbase Eight. We will achieve this in a two prong attack, utilising Destroyer Groups Four and Five.”
The Admiral’s visage was replaced with a chart of the sector. The Drakonis system was highlighted in blue, there was a large red arrow on the edge of the star chart with the Klingon symbol next to it. Seeing just how little space was between them and the colony was worrying.
Chang continued, voicing over the display. “Destroyer Group Four is located here,” a smaller blue symbol appeared, “which we are dubbing, Position Alpha. The starships Lionheart, Othello, Potomac, and Zhukov, you are to set course for Position Alpha at maximum warp. You will be engaging the Klingons head on.”
A second smaller blue symbol appeared. “Destroyer Group Five are here, at Position Bravo. The Grav, Sheyn and Ticonderoga, are to join them. You will launch a pincer move to try and cut them off from their support, which we hope will slow them down. Diana, you will take up position in the J’aha Nebula to monitor Klingon movements and act as a relay to all other outposts in the region. Departure is in thirty minutes.”
Naya scowled at their absence. She looked over at Shanthi who also looked a little perplexed. A few of the bridge crew looked among themselves, all sharing the same question.
“Renown, you are to remain at Drakonis and act as escort once the civilian convoy is ready to depart. You will be supported by the 18th Fighter Wing.”
The star chart was replaced with Chang again. “Good luck to you all. Chang out.” The screen reverted to the Command emblem, before Thor deactivated it once again.
There was silence on the bridge. She sensed the mixture of emotions the crew were going through: confusion, annoyance, relief, anger. Some would’ve been champing at the bit to get into the fight; others wanted to stay away from the fighting for another day.
Munro broke the silence. “What the hell?”
“Lieutenant,” Shanthi intoned, a pitch to his tone not to finish his train of thought.
Naya, numb and a little disappointed, turned to communications. “Address intercraft, Mr Thor.”
“Aye sir.” He tapped in the command and the boatswain’s whistle followed.
“All hands, this is the Captain. The Klingons have entered the Drakonis sector and will reach New Tokyo as early as two days time. We have been tasked with escorting the evacuation convoy to Starbase Eight. This will give us another day to ensure all works are completed and systems checked. Further updates will be posted as and when they become available. Naya out.”
She paused a moment and looked across at Shanthi, who was now standing, the muscles in his jaw flexing. Part of her knew the outrage Munro had expressed, as that part wanted to scream, but she clamped down on it. They had been given their orders and had an important duty to see to—if only it felt that way.
“Commander, assemble the senior staff for a full briefing at fifteen-hundred hours.”
“Aye Captain.”
With as much poise as she could muster, she stepped back into the turbolift and ordered it to deck four and her quarters.
* * * * *
Captain’s personal log, stardate 2242.323.
After getting our new orders through, there is a general feeling of resentment among the crew, one that I can understand and, if I’m being honest, share. I have always believed that Starfleet was accepting of all Federation members equally, this doesn’t feel as though that is true. I know no flag officer would blatantly state it, but when I raised the matter with Admiral Chang, he gave me a shortlist of excuses, including the fact that I have only recently been promoted to Captain, and that my previous command was a non-combat ship.
If know that there are some onboard who have doubts about me, which I aim to alleviate. But if we are to be stuck on escort and support duties for the entirety of this war, then there is no way I can gain the acceptance and trust on this crew. I know that the safety of the civilian population is of great importance, but so is defeating the Klingons.
This log entry may not be the place to vent, but it wouldn’t be right for me to burden anyone else with my personal frustrations—not that there is really anyone onboard I would feel comfortable discussing this matter with.
* * * * *
Gymnasium, U.S.S. Renown
Orbital Dry-Dock, Drakonis IV
Munro was fuming. From his seat on the bridge, he had watched eight starships warp out of the system to engage the Klingons head-on, whilst they were being left behind to babysit. Since then his jaw had been tightly clenched and he’d had to stop himself from grinding his teeth in anger. Since his outburst, the new XO had watched him like a hawk, so he’d had the good sense not to say anything more.
In the meeting that had followed, he hadn’t said a word, other than a formal greeting to their new security chief—who looked as annoyed as he felt when told of their orders. The atmosphere had been tense, no one wanting to call attention to the elephant in the room as they discussed the logistics of escort duty. At one point, as Thor was going through the necessary communications protocols they would need, Munro glanced at Naya and noticed something he hadn’t expected. She was irritated. It was nothing to do with Thor though, she seemed to be as ticked off as many of the others on the crew.
A Deltan looking to fight? What’s up with that? He asked himself over and over again as he pounded the stuffing out of the punching bag. An award-winning kick boxer even before he entered the Academy, he found that it was the best way to work out his frustration and anger, which was just what he needed today—though he would’ve preferred an opponent who fought back. Unfortunately, he had proven to be a little too good for most of the crew on the Renown who all knew better than to take him up on an offer to spar—so if he wanted to fight someone he had to seek out competition from another ship or station.
Sweat was already running down his face, matting his blonde hair and dripping onto the mat. He’d been hard at it for almost an hour, to the point where he was out of breath, his muscles were tired and his fists and feet hurt. Delivering one last roundhouse kick, he bent over and placed his hands on his knees as he tried to get his breathe back. Others in the gym had left the towering helmsman alone, knowing that when he was like this it was best to just let him work it out of his system.
“Good form,” said a deep voice.
He craned his neck up to see Commander Shanthi standing there, wearing sweats and a vest with the emblem of the Academy marathon team on them.
“Thank you, sir,” he said between breathes.
“Don’t mention it.”
As Shanthi started to stretch out, Munro questioned whether to keep at the bag or to go shower and hit the mess. He doubted that he would get much more out of his practice that evening, more than likely he’d pull something if he didn’t ease up. A growl of his stomach made up his mind. He headed over to the bench and picked up his water bottle. After taking a deep gulp, he grabbed the towel and started to pat the sweat off his face, neck and bare arms.
As he stood at the side of the mat, winding down, he’d turned his back on the new XO. So when the older man spoke up again it took him a moment to realise Shanthi was addressing him.
“I get it.”
Munro glanced back at him, though the first officer was still stretching and didn’t seem to be addressing anyone. “Sir?”
“You’re pissed. I get it.” He stopped stretching and turned to face the helmsman. “Everyone feels it to some degree. Some of us have seen action, but most of the crew haven’t, you’ve been cooling your heels here until Starfleet assigned you a new CO. Only now you have one that they don’t seem to have much faith in—feelings no doubt shared by a number of people onboard,” his inflictions and tone made it clear that he knew Munro was in that camp.
“Then we’re given an assignment more suited to an older or smaller ship, whilst everyone else heads off to fight. I assure you, Lieutenant, before this war is over, you will have seen more action than you ever wanted. But look at this from the Captain’s perspective. She went from Commander of a tug, who pulled a damned reckless manoeuvre, to Captain of a cruiser, under a command structure that is wary of her abilities and a crew that doubt her. Would you want to be in that position?”
“No sir,” he replied without much thought. “But—” he quickly bit his tongue.
“Speak freely, Mr Munro.”
“I mean no disrespect, but aside from the five crewmembers who came over from the Ptolemy, none of the crew knows her or what she’s capable of. Only a handful onboard has ever served with a Deltan—and never during a situation like this. All we can go on is what we know of them as a whole—which doesn’t bode well given the state of things right now.”
Shanthi smiled softly. “You could always judge her on her. Have you spoken with Lieutenant Okoga, Ensign Valderama or any of the rest of her former crew?”
“No sir,” he admitted.
“I’d suggest that you find out more about her, before you make any decisions on who she is and what she can do. There are over thirty-thousand people out there who owe her their lives. Remember that.”
With his piece said, Shanthi bowed his head slightly and headed over to the running machines, leaving Munro with something to mull over.
* * * * *
That was priceless!
