‘I believe that it was Cochrain you said that space was the final frontier.’ announced Ensign Jack Crowley from the front flight control station.
Lieutenant Commander Forrest Dekelley raised one eyebrow as he regarded the back of the helmsman’s head, before glancing over to where Warrant Officer Chi Mai Giang was. The middle-aged woman was manning the engineering console at the back of the cramped bridge and was the only other person present.
Her expression was unreadable as she made eye contact with Dekelley.
‘It wasn’t too long ago that most folks back home thought the West Coast of the United States was the final frontier,’ observed Gunner’s Mate 3rd Class Ben Casey via the ship’s intercom.
Once more Dekelley glanced at Giang, only to see a very minute sigh. He smiled. Dekelley wasn’t stupid. He knew damn well that she was more irritated with the ship’s intercom system being used as some sort of instant messenger between the crew, but that was his idea. At a length of 130 meters from bow to stern, and a width wider than his grand-uncle’s rear end, and five decks, the remaining sixteen crew were spread out accordingly.
‘It wasn’t so long ago that most Americans thought they were the center of the universe,’ quipped Engineering Apprentice Dave Wong through the comms.
Dekelley smirked. Wong always had to have the last word whenever Casey spoke up an opinion, which seemed to be mutual.
‘Hey, ass -’
‘Knock it off gentlemen,’ grumbled Ensign Ambler Furry in that cool, dispassionate tone of his. ‘I’m sure Ensign Crowley has better things to do than babysit you again.’
‘Oh, that I do, Amb!’ piped in Crowley.
Dekelley checked the readouts on the throne-like captain’s chair. They were in the outer limits of what some genius called an Economic Exclusive Zone, a nautical term adapted to give individual worlds authority over their airspace. Deneva’s was wider than Earth’s by twenty percent, by virtue of her two moons of Speer and Clayton.
As this was their first mission as a crew, Commodore Duvall suggested that the Arvakur check out the navigational buoys that marked the zone. Easy, peasy. A nice, leisurely trip checking out the markers, while the crew settled under their new captain.
‘Captain.’ Ensign Furry’s voice rang out via the intercom. ‘Incoming call from Deneva-Actual.’
Here, Dekelley winced. ‘Didn’t he call already?’
‘Three hours ago,’ agreed Furry, who was in charge of the equally cramped CIC downstairs.
‘Must be a slow day in the office,’ muttered Dekelley, shaking his head and pulling on his jumpsuit. ‘Put him through onto the main screen, please.’
‘Aye, aye, sir.’
The main screen, which was situated just above Crowley, split. On one side was the two-dimensional layout of Deneva, Speer, Clayton, and the starbase concerning Arvakur’s current location. On the other was Duvall, glowering.
‘Captain Dekelley, I see that Lieutenant Baram’s not rostered on the bridge,’ the commodore said without preamble. ‘As your first officer, his position is on the bridge.’
‘Yes, sir,’ replied Dekelley.
‘So, why isn’t he on the bridge?’
‘Presently because he’s off-shift, sir,’ replied Dekelley. ‘Arez has pulled three shifts in a row already, two of which were on the bridge. I’d rather he rest, sir. Unless you’d prefer you order me to wake him?’
Duvall blinked, momentarily taken aback.
‘No, no, that’s unnecessary. Let the lieutenant rest,’ Duvall gradually managed.
‘Thank you, sir, I’m sure he’ll appreciate a good night’s sleep,’ replied Dekelley with a smile.
***
‘Fuck, that’s ballsy,’ hissed Casey.
‘Watch your tone, Mr Casey,’ countered Furry from his seat in the Combat Information Center, quietly agreeing with the petty officer. He was still getting used to the captain’s style of command, which seemed a little more relaxed than that of his predecessor. For one, there was no way that Captain Bukowski would allow the ship’s intercom to be used the way it was now.
Just as equally, Captain Dekelley had embraced Baram’s appointment to first officer, unlike Captain Bukowski.
‘How are the buoys coming along, Captain?’ the commodore asked via the comms.
‘Still in optimal condition, sir. Ensign Marquette states that . . .’ the captain started to reply, and Furry tuned him out. Instead, he eyed the others in the cramped center. They were a good crew, even Casey. In the twelve months he had graduated from the Academy, Furry was glad he had listened to his grandfather. Joining the fleet shortly after Enterprise uncovered the Xindi plot, he had found his way to Deneva and the ESS Arvakur. Even his grandfather, who had been a Major General in the Australian Army, transferred into the fleet and accepted a Captain’s commission before disappearing into thin air.
‘Ah, sir.’ It was Chief Dalton, who served as his division chief. The chief petty officer was manning comms. ‘We have a distress call.’
Furry blinked and shook his head. He needed to focus, confident his grandfather had his reasons for vanishing. ‘Report.’
‘The Arrowtown, a Jay-class freighter. Belongs to the O’Brian Family.’
Furry frowned and eyed the master-at-arms. ‘As in, Colm O’Brien?’
‘The same, yes, sir.’
‘Damn.’
‘What’s the big deal, boss?’ asked Casey.
‘He’s been on Captain Bukowski’s radar since that incident at the Reef a few months back,’ said Furry and reached to activate the intercom. It was time to kick it upstairs. ‘Sorry to intrude, sirs, but we’ve just picked up a distress call from the Arrowtown.’
Lieutenant Commander Forrest Dekelley raised one eyebrow as he regarded the back of the helmsman’s head, before glancing over to where Warrant Officer Chi Mai Giang was. The middle-aged woman was manning the engineering console at the back of the cramped bridge and was the only other person present.
Her expression was unreadable as she made eye contact with Dekelley.
‘It wasn’t too long ago that most folks back home thought the West Coast of the United States was the final frontier,’ observed Gunner’s Mate 3rd Class Ben Casey via the ship’s intercom.
Once more Dekelley glanced at Giang, only to see a very minute sigh. He smiled. Dekelley wasn’t stupid. He knew damn well that she was more irritated with the ship’s intercom system being used as some sort of instant messenger between the crew, but that was his idea. At a length of 130 meters from bow to stern, and a width wider than his grand-uncle’s rear end, and five decks, the remaining sixteen crew were spread out accordingly.
‘It wasn’t so long ago that most Americans thought they were the center of the universe,’ quipped Engineering Apprentice Dave Wong through the comms.
Dekelley smirked. Wong always had to have the last word whenever Casey spoke up an opinion, which seemed to be mutual.
‘Hey, ass -’
‘Knock it off gentlemen,’ grumbled Ensign Ambler Furry in that cool, dispassionate tone of his. ‘I’m sure Ensign Crowley has better things to do than babysit you again.’
‘Oh, that I do, Amb!’ piped in Crowley.
Dekelley checked the readouts on the throne-like captain’s chair. They were in the outer limits of what some genius called an Economic Exclusive Zone, a nautical term adapted to give individual worlds authority over their airspace. Deneva’s was wider than Earth’s by twenty percent, by virtue of her two moons of Speer and Clayton.
As this was their first mission as a crew, Commodore Duvall suggested that the Arvakur check out the navigational buoys that marked the zone. Easy, peasy. A nice, leisurely trip checking out the markers, while the crew settled under their new captain.
‘Captain.’ Ensign Furry’s voice rang out via the intercom. ‘Incoming call from Deneva-Actual.’
Here, Dekelley winced. ‘Didn’t he call already?’
‘Three hours ago,’ agreed Furry, who was in charge of the equally cramped CIC downstairs.
‘Must be a slow day in the office,’ muttered Dekelley, shaking his head and pulling on his jumpsuit. ‘Put him through onto the main screen, please.’
‘Aye, aye, sir.’
The main screen, which was situated just above Crowley, split. On one side was the two-dimensional layout of Deneva, Speer, Clayton, and the starbase concerning Arvakur’s current location. On the other was Duvall, glowering.
‘Captain Dekelley, I see that Lieutenant Baram’s not rostered on the bridge,’ the commodore said without preamble. ‘As your first officer, his position is on the bridge.’
‘Yes, sir,’ replied Dekelley.
‘So, why isn’t he on the bridge?’
‘Presently because he’s off-shift, sir,’ replied Dekelley. ‘Arez has pulled three shifts in a row already, two of which were on the bridge. I’d rather he rest, sir. Unless you’d prefer you order me to wake him?’
Duvall blinked, momentarily taken aback.
‘No, no, that’s unnecessary. Let the lieutenant rest,’ Duvall gradually managed.
‘Thank you, sir, I’m sure he’ll appreciate a good night’s sleep,’ replied Dekelley with a smile.
***
‘Fuck, that’s ballsy,’ hissed Casey.
‘Watch your tone, Mr Casey,’ countered Furry from his seat in the Combat Information Center, quietly agreeing with the petty officer. He was still getting used to the captain’s style of command, which seemed a little more relaxed than that of his predecessor. For one, there was no way that Captain Bukowski would allow the ship’s intercom to be used the way it was now.
Just as equally, Captain Dekelley had embraced Baram’s appointment to first officer, unlike Captain Bukowski.
‘How are the buoys coming along, Captain?’ the commodore asked via the comms.
‘Still in optimal condition, sir. Ensign Marquette states that . . .’ the captain started to reply, and Furry tuned him out. Instead, he eyed the others in the cramped center. They were a good crew, even Casey. In the twelve months he had graduated from the Academy, Furry was glad he had listened to his grandfather. Joining the fleet shortly after Enterprise uncovered the Xindi plot, he had found his way to Deneva and the ESS Arvakur. Even his grandfather, who had been a Major General in the Australian Army, transferred into the fleet and accepted a Captain’s commission before disappearing into thin air.
‘Ah, sir.’ It was Chief Dalton, who served as his division chief. The chief petty officer was manning comms. ‘We have a distress call.’
Furry blinked and shook his head. He needed to focus, confident his grandfather had his reasons for vanishing. ‘Report.’
‘The Arrowtown, a Jay-class freighter. Belongs to the O’Brian Family.’
Furry frowned and eyed the master-at-arms. ‘As in, Colm O’Brien?’
‘The same, yes, sir.’
‘Damn.’
‘What’s the big deal, boss?’ asked Casey.
‘He’s been on Captain Bukowski’s radar since that incident at the Reef a few months back,’ said Furry and reached to activate the intercom. It was time to kick it upstairs. ‘Sorry to intrude, sirs, but we’ve just picked up a distress call from the Arrowtown.’
