STAR TREK: FOUR YEARS WAR
PICKING UP THE PIECES
USS Kelly
Captain Percival Stone strode into the ready room. He had kept his expression neutral as he had toured the wrecked starship and made his way to the bridge. Within the privacy of Captain Fonseca’s office he allowed a glower to come over his features.
“There aren’t many survivors,” he informed his counterpart, though he was certain she already knew that.
“Without you here, and your medical team, there would be even less,” Captain Fonseca said standing up. She was an attractive woman, her rich brown skin melding well with the gold of her command uniform. Like him she kept her hair short and natural.
“We are at your disposal,” Stone offered. He had ordered as many of his crew to the surface as possible to assist in rescuing survivors from the attack. He had accompanied an engineering team aboard the Kelly to help patch up the battered starship.
“Damn it Percival, I just wish we had gotten here sooner,” Fonseca had never met him before, but he didn’t mind the usage of his given name. He knew the woman was under a lot of stress and a fellow captain he understood they shared a special bond.
“Captain, there was little you could’ve done to prevent what happened here,” Stone offered.
“He gave his word, his word, that Klingon bastard!” Fonseca slammed her desk. “But he was only fooling me, toying with me, giving me false hope. I should’ve atomized that ship when I had the chance.”
“From the reports I’ve read you were outnumbered and outgunned,” Stone replied. The Marklins weren’t the hallmark ships of the Fleet by any means, and even without as skilled a commanding officer as Fonseca it would be a miracle if one survived an engagement against a D’aka class vessel. And Fonseca had brought her ship through such a crucible mostly intact.
“Your actions helped the outpost commander evacuate a lot of civilians,” he said. There had been reports already coming in that some had made it or were in route to Caleb VI. The unfortunate souls that had sought refuge at Caleb II had run into the same Klingon marauders. Why the Klingons had attacked Caleb II and IV, yet left Caleb VI unmolested made no sense.
“I can’t figure out the Klingons’ actions for the life of me,” Fonseca’s words mirrored his thoughts. She shook her head and wearily sat back down. She offered him a seat. He thought about refusing but then reconsidered. It might take some of the tension out of the room if he also took a load off.
“The goal was to attack the outpost, of which they were successful,” Stone said.
“Simon,” Fonseca shook her head again, referring to the deceased Commander Drexler.
“But why they moved on to Caleb II, yet skipped Caleb VI remains a mystery,” the captain concluded.
“It wasn’t about territory, the attack force wasn’t big enough for that,” Fonseca said. “This was about brute force, naked aggression, this was meant to intimidate us, to scare us.”
Unbidden and before he could stop himself, Stone asked, “Are you frightened?”
Fonseca looked at him squarely, “No, I’m mad.”
****************************************************************
USS Kelly
Commander Hiram Song stepped carefully over the tangle of cords. Around him, buzzed a welcome din as the crew of the Kelly worked to put their engine room back together. Hiram had brought a team along to assist them.
He cleared his throat, regretting a little distracting his fellows from their work, “I’m looking for Chief Engineer Tanvi.”
One of the engineers looked up long enough to chuck a tentacle toward a female posterior, admittedly a shapely one. The woman had been swallowed by one of the consoles circling the intermix chamber.
Song made his way to her, his crew following closely behind. He lightly tapped on the terminal above the woman. After a few moments of increasing louder rapping, the woman slid out of the console. She cocked an eye up at him, wiped her hands off and stood up.
Black marks ran down her smooth blue face. Hiram held out a hand. She grasped it firmly. “Hiram Song, USS Endurance,” he introduced himself.
The woman smiled, “Tanvi, I’m guessing you’ve already become a bit acquainted with the Kelly.”
“Not as much I would like,” he replied, which produced a brighter smile from the attractive woman. He wet his suddenly dry throat. “We’re here to help, in any way we can.”
“More hands are always welcome,” she said. “Our latest big problem is loose plasma coils. The radiation isn’t at dangerous levels yet, but the sooner we can head that off before it becomes a concern the better.”
Hiram looked back and nodded at Mr. Dooley. The eager young man stepped forward. Tanvi directed him towards a bank of terminals.
“I could use your assistance with the intermix chamber,” Tanvi said, “During the battle a plasma feedback caused a malfunction that is preventing sufficient pressure from building. In short, we can’t generate a warp field.”
“That is a conundrum,” Song couldn’t hide the smile on his face. Realizing he was doing so and understanding how inappropriate that was, he apologized. Which gratefully prompted a smile in return from his Andorian counterpart.
“We can never stop being engineers,” she offered, “Don’t apologize for it. Especially at a time like this, it’s good to wrap your head around a problem you can understand,” the laughter fell from her eyes, “after what just happened.”
“After what is happening,” seethed Lt. Wallis. “The Klingons are on the march, and all we seem to be able to do is fall back.”
“They took us completely by surprise,” Crewman De Luca spoke up. The two were threatening to revive the argument they have been having since the captain had informed the crew about the first wave of Klingon attacks. “We are doing exactly what we are supposed to be doing, protecting the innocent as best we can.” Lt. Wallis’s expression was exasperated. She opened her mouth to retort.
“That’s enough you two,” Hiram usually allowed his team to express their opinions and blow off steam, but now wasn’t the time or place. He turned back to Tanvi. “Sorry about that.” He glanced back at the two engineers and to their credit both had their heads down.
“It’s okay,” Tanvi said, her expression impassive. “Emotions have been running high. These attacks have everyone reeling, trying to make sense of it all.”
“Agreed,” Song said.
“Perhaps your two passionate young engineers can work out some of their energy on our fuel inlet servos and swirl dampers. They’re affecting our fuel injectors.”
“Get to it guys,” Hiram said. Both of the younger engineers nodded tersely, now all business. Tanvi directed them where to go.
Now relatively alone, Tanvi smiled again. “Ready to get a dirty Mr. Song?”
He grinned, “Absolutely.”
Tanvi pointed to the tool kit beside the console, “Grab a hyperspanner and dig in,” she said. “And after we’re finished perhaps we could have a drink. I’ve got some Nelag, 2151, that is begging to be tried.”
“Nelag?” Song asked, unfamiliar with the beverage.
“It’s an Andorian spirit,” Tanvi said, “You’ll like it.”
“Well then, I guess it’s a date,” Song said, before he could catch himself. “I’m sorry, I meant, er…ah…”
Tanvi laughed. “A date it is.”
Hiram felt relieved. “Well, let’s hurry along then.” He said, getting down to work.
****************************************************************
PICKING UP THE PIECES
USS Kelly
Captain Percival Stone strode into the ready room. He had kept his expression neutral as he had toured the wrecked starship and made his way to the bridge. Within the privacy of Captain Fonseca’s office he allowed a glower to come over his features.
“There aren’t many survivors,” he informed his counterpart, though he was certain she already knew that.
“Without you here, and your medical team, there would be even less,” Captain Fonseca said standing up. She was an attractive woman, her rich brown skin melding well with the gold of her command uniform. Like him she kept her hair short and natural.
“We are at your disposal,” Stone offered. He had ordered as many of his crew to the surface as possible to assist in rescuing survivors from the attack. He had accompanied an engineering team aboard the Kelly to help patch up the battered starship.
“Damn it Percival, I just wish we had gotten here sooner,” Fonseca had never met him before, but he didn’t mind the usage of his given name. He knew the woman was under a lot of stress and a fellow captain he understood they shared a special bond.
“Captain, there was little you could’ve done to prevent what happened here,” Stone offered.
“He gave his word, his word, that Klingon bastard!” Fonseca slammed her desk. “But he was only fooling me, toying with me, giving me false hope. I should’ve atomized that ship when I had the chance.”
“From the reports I’ve read you were outnumbered and outgunned,” Stone replied. The Marklins weren’t the hallmark ships of the Fleet by any means, and even without as skilled a commanding officer as Fonseca it would be a miracle if one survived an engagement against a D’aka class vessel. And Fonseca had brought her ship through such a crucible mostly intact.
“Your actions helped the outpost commander evacuate a lot of civilians,” he said. There had been reports already coming in that some had made it or were in route to Caleb VI. The unfortunate souls that had sought refuge at Caleb II had run into the same Klingon marauders. Why the Klingons had attacked Caleb II and IV, yet left Caleb VI unmolested made no sense.
“I can’t figure out the Klingons’ actions for the life of me,” Fonseca’s words mirrored his thoughts. She shook her head and wearily sat back down. She offered him a seat. He thought about refusing but then reconsidered. It might take some of the tension out of the room if he also took a load off.
“The goal was to attack the outpost, of which they were successful,” Stone said.
“Simon,” Fonseca shook her head again, referring to the deceased Commander Drexler.
“But why they moved on to Caleb II, yet skipped Caleb VI remains a mystery,” the captain concluded.
“It wasn’t about territory, the attack force wasn’t big enough for that,” Fonseca said. “This was about brute force, naked aggression, this was meant to intimidate us, to scare us.”
Unbidden and before he could stop himself, Stone asked, “Are you frightened?”
Fonseca looked at him squarely, “No, I’m mad.”
****************************************************************
USS Kelly
Commander Hiram Song stepped carefully over the tangle of cords. Around him, buzzed a welcome din as the crew of the Kelly worked to put their engine room back together. Hiram had brought a team along to assist them.
He cleared his throat, regretting a little distracting his fellows from their work, “I’m looking for Chief Engineer Tanvi.”
One of the engineers looked up long enough to chuck a tentacle toward a female posterior, admittedly a shapely one. The woman had been swallowed by one of the consoles circling the intermix chamber.
Song made his way to her, his crew following closely behind. He lightly tapped on the terminal above the woman. After a few moments of increasing louder rapping, the woman slid out of the console. She cocked an eye up at him, wiped her hands off and stood up.
Black marks ran down her smooth blue face. Hiram held out a hand. She grasped it firmly. “Hiram Song, USS Endurance,” he introduced himself.
The woman smiled, “Tanvi, I’m guessing you’ve already become a bit acquainted with the Kelly.”
“Not as much I would like,” he replied, which produced a brighter smile from the attractive woman. He wet his suddenly dry throat. “We’re here to help, in any way we can.”
“More hands are always welcome,” she said. “Our latest big problem is loose plasma coils. The radiation isn’t at dangerous levels yet, but the sooner we can head that off before it becomes a concern the better.”
Hiram looked back and nodded at Mr. Dooley. The eager young man stepped forward. Tanvi directed him towards a bank of terminals.
“I could use your assistance with the intermix chamber,” Tanvi said, “During the battle a plasma feedback caused a malfunction that is preventing sufficient pressure from building. In short, we can’t generate a warp field.”
“That is a conundrum,” Song couldn’t hide the smile on his face. Realizing he was doing so and understanding how inappropriate that was, he apologized. Which gratefully prompted a smile in return from his Andorian counterpart.
“We can never stop being engineers,” she offered, “Don’t apologize for it. Especially at a time like this, it’s good to wrap your head around a problem you can understand,” the laughter fell from her eyes, “after what just happened.”
“After what is happening,” seethed Lt. Wallis. “The Klingons are on the march, and all we seem to be able to do is fall back.”
“They took us completely by surprise,” Crewman De Luca spoke up. The two were threatening to revive the argument they have been having since the captain had informed the crew about the first wave of Klingon attacks. “We are doing exactly what we are supposed to be doing, protecting the innocent as best we can.” Lt. Wallis’s expression was exasperated. She opened her mouth to retort.
“That’s enough you two,” Hiram usually allowed his team to express their opinions and blow off steam, but now wasn’t the time or place. He turned back to Tanvi. “Sorry about that.” He glanced back at the two engineers and to their credit both had their heads down.
“It’s okay,” Tanvi said, her expression impassive. “Emotions have been running high. These attacks have everyone reeling, trying to make sense of it all.”
“Agreed,” Song said.
“Perhaps your two passionate young engineers can work out some of their energy on our fuel inlet servos and swirl dampers. They’re affecting our fuel injectors.”
“Get to it guys,” Hiram said. Both of the younger engineers nodded tersely, now all business. Tanvi directed them where to go.
Now relatively alone, Tanvi smiled again. “Ready to get a dirty Mr. Song?”
He grinned, “Absolutely.”
Tanvi pointed to the tool kit beside the console, “Grab a hyperspanner and dig in,” she said. “And after we’re finished perhaps we could have a drink. I’ve got some Nelag, 2151, that is begging to be tried.”
“Nelag?” Song asked, unfamiliar with the beverage.
“It’s an Andorian spirit,” Tanvi said, “You’ll like it.”
“Well then, I guess it’s a date,” Song said, before he could catch himself. “I’m sorry, I meant, er…ah…”
Tanvi laughed. “A date it is.”
Hiram felt relieved. “Well, let’s hurry along then.” He said, getting down to work.
****************************************************************
