Episode 1: The Journey Ahead.
Despite the presence of the stable Bajoran wormhole just ahead of Deep Space Nine for almost twelve years, the Federation hasn't even begun to chart the deeper mysteries and civilizations that lie in waiting for them almost half a galaxy away. To this end, a ship has been commissioned to undertake one of Starfleet's most dangerous exploratory missions yet. The galaxy class USS Beyond— commanded by one Captain Rhydian T'kel— journeys ahead armed with the drive to see just how many mysteries the Gamma Quadrant has yet to offer.
Despite the presence of the stable Bajoran wormhole just ahead of Deep Space Nine for almost twelve years, the Federation hasn't even begun to chart the deeper mysteries and civilizations that lie in waiting for them almost half a galaxy away. To this end, a ship has been commissioned to undertake one of Starfleet's most dangerous exploratory missions yet. The galaxy class USS Beyond— commanded by one Captain Rhydian T'kel— journeys ahead armed with the drive to see just how many mysteries the Gamma Quadrant has yet to offer.
The USS Beyond, docked at the ports of Deep Space Nine, was absolutely frantic. Today marked the day she would be leaving on her maiden voyage— her true maiden voyage— her first long term mission. The crew buzzed about, tending to absolutely every minor detail imaginable.
Engineers crawled and stretched over and under every nook and cranny of the ship to check, double check, triple check all systems were in order. Science officers read and re-read equipment manifests and poured through the labs, medical personnel did their best to drag in impatient crew members and families for last minute body scans as ensigns flitted back and forth between them with data pads. Not a single soul was without work and even in the ship’s lounge, officers hounded each other over preparations.
It was in this lounge that the Chief of Security was addressing a detachment of security officers, her usually penetrating voice somehow hardly audible above the rush of officers and civilians milling about.
“Duty rosters are accessible from both the personal interfaces in your quarters and the crews designated interfaces around the ship, but not on the public interfaces. As always do not share the roster on public interfaces and— yes lieutenant?”
Howell, her stone grey eyes milling over the officers under her command, paused to look at one who seemed to be finding it difficult to hold her tongue.
“Sir I don’t want to interrupt.” she said hastily.
“These are basic regulations Lieutenant Rosa I hardly expect this is news to any of you. If any of you have any urgent questions I’d rather address those. Do you have a question?”
“No sir, I—” Rosa seemed to hesitate but an urging shoulder pat from her peers steeled her, “Actually… we do sir. Is it true the new First Officer is a Cardassian?”
The question took her by surprise. Howell pursed her lips.
“Are you thinking about transferring from security to command, Rosa?”
“Well, no sir I—” Rosa stammered, losing her nerve at the glint of anger in her superior’s eye.
“Do you have any questions relevant to the security of this vessel Lieutenant?”
“...No sir.”
“Do any of you?” Howell took in the face of each officer. Many were human, but some were Bajoran. Other species caught her eye but she knew the Cardassians were not popular among any race, even half a decade after the end of the Dominion War.
“Sir I think as security officers we ought to know exactly whose security we’re in charge of.”
She didn’t catch the face of the one who spoke above the noise but looking around at the detachment she could tell it didn’t much matter who had said it. The sentiment was shared all among them.
“...Gul Damek Makar will be joining this crew to serve as First Officer to Captain T’kel.” Howell acquiesced, weighing her words carefully as she spoke them.
There was a visible tenseness that immediately overtook the detachment. Howell tentatively looked over them. She clasped her hands together behind herself, then, standing straight, continued.
“It’s no secret the Federation and the reformed Cardassian Union have been working to improve relations and this is just the opportunity to do so. As Gul Makar is serving here on the Beyond, so will Starfleet officers serve aboard Cardassian ships. We’ve done the same with many other races in the past.”
“But sir the Cardassians are-” began one, voice high with disbelief.
“I won’t hear another word on the matter.”
She was met with reluctant and doubtful looks. Howell allowed her officers a few moments of dissatisfied murmurs.
“As I was saying, do not share details about the duty roster on any public interfaces…”
As Howell rattled off regulations, an ensign—one of the many young, red-faced and flustered dashing about the ship— burst into the area and looked around, wide-eyed and panting. In her arms she balanced various data pads bearing the insignias of various divisions.
The ensign caught sight of Howell, who stood almost a head above her group of security officers. In a moment of distraction the chief had caught her eye. Normally the Commander would have paid the ensign little mind but the young officer had locked eyes with her and refused to let her look away.
“Commander!”
The ensign darted forward, almost dropping one of the pads in her arms as she did, and stopped short of Howell. Howell bid her own officers a dismissal and sent them off on their duties with a few quick words before the ensign took her full attention.
“Commander Howell, do you know where the Captain is? I’ve been trying to contact him but— I’ve got medical reports, engineering reports— even the science officers are having some, kind of— problem—I’m sorry— if you could, just—”
Howell raised her hand and the girl fell silent.
“Breathe, ensign.”
The ensign, still somewhat flustered, straightened her posture and attempted to reassemble the pads in her hands. She took a deep breath and pushed some strands of hair—clinging to her face with sweat— out of her eyes.
Once the young ensign seemed to regain herself, Howell took one of the datapads and flicked through it. Standard updates. Issues with misplacements and late arrivals. Nothing unexpected.
“Have you tried raising the Captain on his comm badge?” Howell asked, keeping her voice even.
“Yes sir. No response.”
Howell contemplated this for a moment before pressing her hand on her own badge.
“Commander Howell to Captain T’kel.”
No response.
Howell pressed upon her badge again, this time with a firmer hand and voice.
“Commander Howell to Captain T’kel. T’kel?”
The ensign watched her nervously, her eyes darting around to the officers around her. Howell pursed her lips.
“I’ll take these off your hands ensign.” the Commander prised the data pads away from the girl.
“Sir?”
“I’ll make sure these get to the Captain myself. And ensign-”
The girl seemed to tense, eyes still wide, hands still in the same position from when her charges had been pulled away.
“-take a break. You look like you’re on the verge of a breakdown.”
The ensign seemed not to understand at first, frowning, but then smiled, her shoulders sagging with relief.
“Yes sir.”
The Commander gave her her a pursed smile before marching out of the lounge with an armful of reports and a heavy sigh.
The rush of crew members moved out her way as she made her way up the decks and to the bridge. She tried the intercom to the captain's ready room and awaited a response. None came. She tried again after some seconds of waiting but again, no response.
Howell frowned and adjusting the data pads into one arm pressed a hand upon her comm. badge again.
“Commander Howell to Captain T’kel, respond if possible sir.”
“....espond if possible sir.”
She heard the faint echo of her own voice from within the room and her brow furrowed. This time she ignored the courtesy of the intercom and entered the room, striding in without hesitation to the captain’s desk. The room was empty, save for the captain’s personal belongings. An outsider may not have known what to make of Captain T’kel’s ready room- a mismatch of peculiarities and souvenirs from every planet he’d ever had shore leave on and gifts from grateful civilians. If it had not been so carefully ordered, Howell would have called the room a mess. Instead it seemed adequately clean and spacious. Her eyes glanced over to one of the walls— more like a book case really— lined with nothing but hardcovers she didn’t care to investigate at the moment. She turned her attention to the desk near the back of the room.
On it, placed neatly over a datapad, was the comm. badge. She picked up the badge and then, spotting the pad beneath it, replaced the badge on the desk and picked up the pad instead.
Her eyes narrowed as she read it and then widened. Sharply inhaling and exhaling she dropped the pad, letting it clatter onto the desk and marched purposefully out of the room.
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