Star Trek: The Untold Era’s USS Nelson
‘Calm Return’
By Jack Elmlinger
USS Nelson, NCC-10219
Starbase K-17
Stardate 10899.4
Captain Shantherkitt ‘Therkitt’ ch’Daahl was in awe of his ship while he stared at his ship and its designation upon the Miranda-class starship. The travel pod that he was traveling in swept by the starship. He wondered if he should still be in command. It had only been three weeks ago that he and his crew had been attacked by a Cardassian flotilla in the Shokell system.
Many of his officers and crew had died in the confrontation and he had been questioning himself since the incident. It was strange to feel such regret. However, Starfleet Command has assured him that he had done the right thing. There would be no review and no court-martial.
“She looks like a sight, doesn’t she?,” asked Lieutenant Sh’arash Rruuri while his paws manipulated the controls to fly the pod closer to the ship. The Caitian security officer had come along with him to look over the repairs done to their ship.
“She did. Now she looks like she could take on anything.” The Andorian chen’s smirk was a little playful while he looked over his command. He looked over at Rruuri and asked him,” Do you still have that personnel roster on you, Sh’ar?”
“Right here, Boss.” He handed him a data slate. “Checking on the new additions?”
“Something like that. Commodore Han told me that she had prioritized their assignments. I didn’t get much say.”
“Was she being nice? She can be a hard-ass.”
“It would be beyond her to have Starfleet Personnel assign some misfits to the Nelson.” His antennae turned towards the Caitian. “They assigned you, right?”
Rruuri was right. Commodore Ren Han was known to have a reputation of rehabilitating Starfleet personnel who had poor records. She had been a misfit herself until her Captain, a Rigelian, had taken her underneath his wing and trained him to be one of the best in Starfleet.
“If she has, we’ll show them how to be Starfleet officers.”
“We’re being assigned to Task Force Hadrian. They haul their ice or it’s the airlock for them.” The captain looked down at the information on the data slate and scrolled through the data upon it. He saw a name that he recognized.
Runyon?, he asked himself. Brian Runyon?
He knew Brian Runyon. He was a seasoned Starfleet officer who had seven scientific degrees. According to the data slate, he had been assigned to Credala IV’s research facility, five years ago.
“It looks like Brian Runyon is going to be our Science Officer,” he told Rruuri. The travel pod was getting close to the starboard docking port. They would be back aboard the Nelson soon.
“Runyon? I don’t know him.”
“He’s one of Starfleet’s top scientists, Sh’ar. He’s written some papers that make the Vulcans sit up and pay attention.” His eyes returned to the data slate and saw that Edna Hughes was staying with them as Chief Medical Officer. He knew that she was a troublemaker in the eyes of the Starfleet Medical complex because of her troubles with authority figures. In his eyes, she was one hell of a surgeon. Even if she was opinionated.
“Hughes?,” Rruuri asked, looking over his shoulder. “She’s good. I’m glad she’s staying.”
“Really?”
“I’m still alive. Besides, the Doc’s not so bad.”
“She was with you aboard the Bennington, weren’t you?,” ch’Daahl asked him, speaking about one of the last Constitution-class starships that used to be in service.
“Yeah, back when I was still learning the right end of a phaser pistol. Old Edna fixed me up after I took a poison arrow in the thigh while on a First Contact mission.” Therkitt nodded, grateful for that past service. He wouldn’t be able to command the Nelson without his friend to have his back.
A few moments passed between them before the security officer asked him,” Is Jill Bevin still the First Officer, Captain?”
Therkitt nodded. “She’s still with us, even though she wanted to leave after Shokell.”
“That’s a shame. I thought she was due for a command of her own.”
“She is. She asked to stay aboard.”
Another moment passed between them and the Caitian asked him,” Are we getting one of those … psychiatrists that some captains insist on having?”
“No room for one.” ch’Daahl looked back up at him and added,” Of course, a psychiatrist might give me an explanation for your obsession with beanie babies.”
“They’re my children,” he said, a serious look on his face. “I need something to come home to at night.”
“Get a mate.”
“Only when I get back to Cait, sir. That’s where the best girls are.” Rruuri synced the pod up with the ship for docking. A loud bang resonated through the travel pod’s hull when it connected with the ship. There was a little grinding sound from the airlock doors when they opened up. The Captain handed the data slate back to Lieutenant Rruuri and the Caitian followed the Andorian onto the ship. Both officers were met by a young man with an ensign’s pin on his shoulder strap.
“Welcome back aboard, sir,” the ensign said, snapping to attention. “I’m Ensign Arthur Fowler. Commander Bevan told me to report to you.”
ch’Daahl took a step forward, a hard look on his face. “And your position?”
“I’ve been assigned as your Operations Officer and Navigator, sir.”
Ignoring the ‘sirs’, he crossed his arms in front of him. “Just graduated from the Academy? What are you doing this far out?”
“Well, sir,” Fowler said, feeling small in the captain’s presence,” I asked to join the Border Service. I was supposed to join the Snowfin which is in for repairs, but Admiral Dixon told me that I was needed here. So here I am.”
“The Border Service is a time-honored service,” Rruuri said, remembering that he had a cousin aboard the Snowfin.
“So is Starfleet.” ch’Daahl offered the young Human his hand. “Welcome aboard, Mister Fowler.”
“Thank you, sir.” The ensign shook his blue hand. “Commander Bevin also asked me to inform you that Commodore Han has changed our departure time with new orders.”
“Good old Commodore Han,” Rruuri said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Always looking out for us and our interests.”
“I’m sure that there’s an explanation, Sh’ar. Don’t be crabby or no shuris for dinner.” Therkitt started walking towards the nearest turbolift, waving over his shoulder. “Come on, Fowler. Let’s get a-cracking. This iceberg isn’t going to drive itself.”
* * * *
It was clear that Commander Jill Bevin didn’t have much time for anything but her duties. Not even the time of day for her commanding officer. She was perched on her back underneath the Navigation/Operations console, tools in his hands. This had been her post, even before elevating to the position of First Officer, and with a new officer taking over the position, the blonde-haired woman from Poplar, England wanted the systems working well.
She was also anxious because Commodore Han had changed their departure time.
ch’Daahl, she thought to herself for a moment while she replaced a KX-19 component. I can’t believe that the commodore allowed him to stay in command. I thought she’d send him packing back to Andoria. She knew that the Andorian felt some regret over abandoning the crews of two shuttlecraft. Those crews included their previous science officer and communications officer.
“Commander,” the engineering technician perched over the helm console,” the updated star charts from Stellar Cartography aren’t downloading into the data cache.”
“It’s probably a bad umbilical connection or it's the software.” Bevan picked herself up from out underneath the Nav/Ops console and rose up to her feet. She looked over the technician’s shoulder, wiping her brow on her white turtleneck. “Try a different umbilical cord. If that doesn’t work, try slowing down the data compression rate.”
“Already done, Commander. Neither method worked.”
“Call Engineering and ask Commander Zantha for help.”
“But, ma’am -- “
“We’re all busy here and -- “
“Captain on the Bridge!,” Ensign Fowler called out after the turbolift doors opened and he stepped out after Captain ch’Daahl and Lieutenant Rruuri. Bevan turned around to face them and like the rest of the Bridge personnel, she soon joined them in standing at attention before their captain.
“At ease, ladies and gentle beings.” ch’Daahl stepped forward. “Return to your work, please.”
A series of nods and ‘aye, sirs’ came from them. Everyone returned to their duties and the Andorian captain walked down to the center of the Bridge while Rruuri went to look over the Tactical console where Lieutenant Falcone was running a diagnostic.
“I’m sorry,” ch’Daahl told Bevan.
“Sir?”
“For Matt,” he said, bringing up the Nelson’s previous science officer, Lieutenant Commander Garrett Matthews. No one had called him by his first name. He was always ‘Matthews’ or ‘Matt’ to them.
“Thank you, sir,” she answered with a nod. She and Matthews had been in a relationship for the last two years. They were supposed to get married on Earth when the Nelson returned to Earth at the end of her tour.
ch’Daahl looked around the Bridge and saw open panels, circuit boards were torn askew, and consoles that were in pieces. “How’s it going here? Are we going to be able to depart on schedule?”
Bevan looked at him, staring at him for a second. Then she unburdened her soul to him. “If we had twenty hours, my answer might be maybe, and that’s with Zantha whipping her engineers to a frazzle.” She sighed deeply and let out a breath. “An extra day. That would be nice.”
“Understood. Maybe I can help out.”
“Help out?”
“Yeah,” he said, a stubborn look on his face. He turned and pointed at Rruuri. “Don’t let him stand around and let him mentally undress the female crew members. Give him something to do.”
Rruuri heard him and stared at Therkitt. “I guess my vacation is over.”
Bevan looked at both men for a moment before returning to her work.
“I’ll be down in Main Engineering, Commander. Keep everyone at work, getting the ship ready. We’ll have a senior staff meeting after we get underway.” He understood the importance of getting the Nelson underway. Task Force Hadrian needed them to deal with this Cardassian menace.
“Aye, sir,” was Bevan’s answer.
The Andorian disappeared inside a turbolift, the doors closing behind him. Bevan looked towards Rruuri and crossed her arms over her chest. “We’re having problems with the torpedo launchers,” she told the security officer. “I don’t suppose you could help Falcone with them?”
“I used to live in a torpedo bay, ma’am,” the Caitian assured him.
“Really?,” she asked him with slight astonishment.
“When I was an enlisted cub in the Caitian Planetary Navy.”
Bevan nodded. “Then why don’t you two see what you can do to get them working?”
“Aye, Commander,” came from both men and they soon left the Bridge.
* * * *
“I think you’re happier out there than you are here on Nelphia,” Farog told his wife as she looked back at her from the small monitor on the Chief Engineer’s desk.
“I still miss you and the kids,” said Lieutenant Commander Zantha while she stood behind her desk, working on a data slate. She had requested reassignment after Shokell but Commodore Han had asked her to remain aboard the Nelson. The commander of K-17 thought that her talents as an engineer were better served here than anywhere here. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to move back to Tellar?”
“They just started school here and I’ve had my fill of station life while you gallivant around the Galaxy, Zan.”
“I don’t ‘gallivant’.”
Farog glared at her and continued,” I want Grott and Talar to spend some time on a planet. To feel the grass underneath their hooves and to breathe fresh air, not recycled. I’m tired of staring at bulkheads, dear.”
“I understand, Farog, honey. I just wish you and the younglings were closer so I could visit you more.”
“If it wasn’t for that commodore of yours, you could have joined the Starfleet Corps of Engineers team here.”
“I could have, especially after ch’Daahl showed his true colors.” She sighed, looking at him. He was a most understanding Tellarite and she loved him deeply.
Their conversation was interrupted by the sudden whoosh of the door sliding open. A tall, middle-aged man stood in the doorway and he wore a Lieutenant Commander’s pip on his shoulder strap.
“Farog, I have to go.” She could see the sadness in his sharp gaze. She missed him too.
“I’ll try to call you when we have the new subspace satellite system online,” he said before his image disappeared from the monitor screen.
“Was that your mate?,” the stranger asked her.
Zantha ignored that question, looking towards him. “Can I help you, sir?”
“You can if you’re Commander Zantha.”
Zantha looked down at her engineering suit, thinking that it would be obvious. “That’s me, pinkskin. What do you want? I’m on a deadline and I don’t need anyone bothering me, right now.”
“I’m Brian Runyon,” the visitor said without offering his hand as Humans were known to do. “And I’d like to talk to you about the ship’s sensors.”
“Go talk to Commander Benson!,” the chief engineer barked back at him. “He and those idiot excuses for yard dogs calibrated them after they installed the new parts. You shouldn’t be bothering me, pinkskin.”
“Listen here, Miss Piggy, are you certain about that?” He was as angry as she was. “Because I was just in the science lab. It’s such a fine and dandy place to work in… if the damned diagnostics didn’t seem to meet the criteria!”
“What the frak criteria are you mouthing on about, Commander?,” Zantha asked with a hard look growing on her face. “Benson and his quacks have assured me that the damned sensors and your equipment are all up to date!”
“Well, it seems as if they cut some corners on their work to get it up and running, Miss Piggy.” He paused for a moment before adding,” I’m not here to tell you how you do your job. I’d just like to have a working sensor array so I can do my job.”
“Of course, pinkskin. I’ll get to it, immediately.” She had already been looking at a problem with a plasma manifold when her husband called her.
“Thank you, Commander.” The science officer took a step back from her and asked,” What’s he like?”
“Who?”
“The Captain.”
“Sometimes, he’s as cold as ice, and sometimes, he’s as yellow as mustard.”
“Really?”
“You’d know if you were at Shokell.”
“I… uh…” He turned and headed towards the door. “Just get my sensors working, okay?”
“I’ll get on it.”
Zantha frowned as the door closed behind him. This new science officer seemed to be more of a pain in the frakas than Matthews had been. She settled herself in a chair behind her desk and went back to work on her data slate. She was close to an answer when there was a knock at the door.
“What now?!”
The doors whooshed open and the Nelson’s Andorian captain walked in. “Problems, Zan?”
* * * *
Captain’s Log, Stardate 10899.4;
According to Commander Zantha, we’re ready to leave. The crew is capable, but we are missing some personnel in some departments. I have yet to see Doctor Hughes show her face yet.
Meanwhile, I’m also waiting for my new helmsman to show up.
The door chimes whistled and the Andorian looked up from the computer screen that he had been looking at. “Enter,” he said, turning his head towards the Ready Room door.
The doors opened to reveal a Vulcan walk in. Therkitt noticed that he was wearing a Lieutenant’s pin on his shoulder strap. “Captain ch’Daahl?,” he asked him.
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“Lieutenant Syelak, reporting for duty, sir, as Chief Helmsman,” the dark-haired man said, standing at attention.
“Stand at ease, or you’ll bruise your spine,” Therkitt told him. “What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”
“Commodore Han has assigned me to the Nelson since your previous helmsman was transferred to the USS Hermione at his own request.” The Vulcan’s response was cold and logical as he expected it would be.
ch’Daahl nodded. “Welcome aboard, Lieutenant. Do you understand your duties?”
“I was the previous Chief Helmsman aboard the USS Farragut, sir.”
“This isn’t a heavy cruiser.”
“Indeed, sir.”
“So you won’t have any problems with the Nelson?,” ch’Daahl asked him.
“I believe the Human members of your crew would state that a ship is a ship.”
This was a fact that he could agree with. He was about to say something to that effect when the intercom whistled. “Captain,” said Lieutenant Akuna, the new ship’s communications officer,” there’s an incoming transmission coming through from K-17.”
“Patch it through to the Ready Room, Malli.” ch’Daahl dismissed the Vulcan officer before he turned towards the monitor on his desktop. The logo of the United Federation of Planets appeared for a moment, blinking and waiting for him to give a retinal scan. Tapping a few buttons on his control panel, the monitor scanned the retina in his right eye before the image of Commodore Ren Han appeared before him.
“Commodore Han,” the blue-skinned alien said, lowering his head and antennae in greeting,” this is a pleasure?”
“What’s the status of your ship and crew, Captain?,” the older Human woman asked him, getting to the business straight at hand. She seemed bitter and tired of her position. “According to the updated schedule, you have four hours before departure.”
“My crew is working as hard as they can, Commodore. They’re still picking up the pieces from the mess that Commander Benson and his lot left.”
“This isn’t a time for excuses, Captain ch’Daahl. The Nelson needs to leave K-17 in four hours to make her rendezvous with Task Force Hadrian. The USS Indianapolis is due to dock soon and they need your spot.”
What is she so worried about?, he asked himself as he scowled back at Han’s remark. “Nelson still needs some work, Commodore. Work that can only be handled by qualified personnel, not incompetent morons! Commander Zantha says -- “
“I don’t care what your chief engineer says, you frakking coward! You have your orders! Follow them or I’ll remove you from command and slap you with charges so fast that you won’t have time to get yourself a JAG lawyer for your damned court-martial! Am I understood, Captain ch’Daahl?”
Han was known for her ‘take no prisoners’ attitude towards her subordinates.
“No.”
Han looked flabbergasted for a moment instead of angry. “What don’t you understand?”
“The mission, Commodore. What are we doing with Task Force Hadrian?”
“Further orders will be transmitted to you once you rendezvous with the Gettysburg! For now, move your ass! Han out!”
Commodore Han’s face disappeared from the monitor screen and ch’Daahl leaned back in his chair. He rubbed his chin and he wondered what the mission was for it to be so important.
* * * *
“You took on a squad of Klingons all by yourself?,” asked Malli Akuna.
Sh’arash Rruuri smiled at her, his fangs showing their sharp ferocity. “With my own paws.”
“Your paws?”
“You would call them ‘hands’,” he said, wiggling his digits.
The Nelson was completing the end of her time at Starbase K-17 and Captain ch’Daahl had ordered that all of the senior officers report to the Bridge. Rruuri was watching everyone as they performed their duties. The new officers, Runyon, Syelak, and Fowler were at their stations, their eyes and hands focused on their work.
“They look like fur mittens.”
“That’s funny. My sister used to call me ‘Mittens’.” He chuckled slightly before the Ready Room door opened. Therkitt walked up and Commander Bevan rose from her seat in the command chair. He gave the Andorian a thumbs-up and he just gave him a look of confusion.
Walking over and sitting down in his chair, Therkitt pressed a button on his chair’s armrest. “ch’Daahl to Engineering.”
“Zantha here,” came over the Bridge speakers. “You caught me washing my hair.”
We sound like a crew of Border dogs, the Andorian told himself. “Are we ready to leave, Zan? I’m tired of the company.” For that remark, he meant Commodore Han.
“My baby is as ready as she can be, Cap,” the chief engineer told him.
Therkitt nodded, his face as placid as a frozen lake. “Keep Nelson together as best as you can, Zan.”
“Aye, you bet I will.”
Turning off the intercom, he turned his head to look at his First Officer. The British woman stood beside him, looking back at him with the same determination that he had for the unknown.
“Can we go now?,” he asked her.
“If the chief agrees, then I do, Captain.”
“Then take us out.”
Bevan took a step forward and said,” Helm, retract all moorings and cut all umbilicals. Set port and starboard thrusters at station-keeping. Ease her out slowly.”
“Aye, ma’am,” the Vulcan responded, his hands slowly moving over his panel. All around them, the crew could hear the moorings retract through the deck plates. “Moorings are retracted as are umbilicals to K-17. Thrusters are stationary and we are moving forward at a hundred KPH.”
“Thank you, Mister Syelak,” Therkitt said, accepting a data slate from a yeoman. “Push us ahead at one-quarter impulse power, please.”
Bevan and the other Bridge officers looked at their commanding officer with surprise. They had never heard him utter such an order before. Runyon cleared his throat as if he were to say something. Fowler and Syelak looked at each other while Rruuri and Akuna shared a look.
“Uh, Captain,” the Caitian started to say.
“Captain,” Syelak said, turning in his chair to face him,” Starfleet regulations state that only thrusters should be used when a starship is departing from a spacedock facility.”
“It’s good that you know that, Syelak.” He looked at the data slate for a moment before adding,” You heard my order.”
“Aye, sir.”
Syelak turned back to his station and applied power to the ship’s impulse engines, increasing their acceleration. They had been in standby mode but when they surged with power, the starship pushed quickly away from K-17.
Minutes passed by before Fowler said,” All decks report ready for warp, Captain.”
A rare smile formed on Therkitt’s face, his eyes looking out into the vortex of space as the anticipation filled inside of him.
“Expedite!”
The End.
‘Calm Return’
By Jack Elmlinger
USS Nelson, NCC-10219
Starbase K-17
Stardate 10899.4
Captain Shantherkitt ‘Therkitt’ ch’Daahl was in awe of his ship while he stared at his ship and its designation upon the Miranda-class starship. The travel pod that he was traveling in swept by the starship. He wondered if he should still be in command. It had only been three weeks ago that he and his crew had been attacked by a Cardassian flotilla in the Shokell system.
Many of his officers and crew had died in the confrontation and he had been questioning himself since the incident. It was strange to feel such regret. However, Starfleet Command has assured him that he had done the right thing. There would be no review and no court-martial.
“She looks like a sight, doesn’t she?,” asked Lieutenant Sh’arash Rruuri while his paws manipulated the controls to fly the pod closer to the ship. The Caitian security officer had come along with him to look over the repairs done to their ship.
“She did. Now she looks like she could take on anything.” The Andorian chen’s smirk was a little playful while he looked over his command. He looked over at Rruuri and asked him,” Do you still have that personnel roster on you, Sh’ar?”
“Right here, Boss.” He handed him a data slate. “Checking on the new additions?”
“Something like that. Commodore Han told me that she had prioritized their assignments. I didn’t get much say.”
“Was she being nice? She can be a hard-ass.”
“It would be beyond her to have Starfleet Personnel assign some misfits to the Nelson.” His antennae turned towards the Caitian. “They assigned you, right?”
Rruuri was right. Commodore Ren Han was known to have a reputation of rehabilitating Starfleet personnel who had poor records. She had been a misfit herself until her Captain, a Rigelian, had taken her underneath his wing and trained him to be one of the best in Starfleet.
“If she has, we’ll show them how to be Starfleet officers.”
“We’re being assigned to Task Force Hadrian. They haul their ice or it’s the airlock for them.” The captain looked down at the information on the data slate and scrolled through the data upon it. He saw a name that he recognized.
Runyon?, he asked himself. Brian Runyon?
He knew Brian Runyon. He was a seasoned Starfleet officer who had seven scientific degrees. According to the data slate, he had been assigned to Credala IV’s research facility, five years ago.
“It looks like Brian Runyon is going to be our Science Officer,” he told Rruuri. The travel pod was getting close to the starboard docking port. They would be back aboard the Nelson soon.
“Runyon? I don’t know him.”
“He’s one of Starfleet’s top scientists, Sh’ar. He’s written some papers that make the Vulcans sit up and pay attention.” His eyes returned to the data slate and saw that Edna Hughes was staying with them as Chief Medical Officer. He knew that she was a troublemaker in the eyes of the Starfleet Medical complex because of her troubles with authority figures. In his eyes, she was one hell of a surgeon. Even if she was opinionated.
“Hughes?,” Rruuri asked, looking over his shoulder. “She’s good. I’m glad she’s staying.”
“Really?”
“I’m still alive. Besides, the Doc’s not so bad.”
“She was with you aboard the Bennington, weren’t you?,” ch’Daahl asked him, speaking about one of the last Constitution-class starships that used to be in service.
“Yeah, back when I was still learning the right end of a phaser pistol. Old Edna fixed me up after I took a poison arrow in the thigh while on a First Contact mission.” Therkitt nodded, grateful for that past service. He wouldn’t be able to command the Nelson without his friend to have his back.
A few moments passed between them before the security officer asked him,” Is Jill Bevin still the First Officer, Captain?”
Therkitt nodded. “She’s still with us, even though she wanted to leave after Shokell.”
“That’s a shame. I thought she was due for a command of her own.”
“She is. She asked to stay aboard.”
Another moment passed between them and the Caitian asked him,” Are we getting one of those … psychiatrists that some captains insist on having?”
“No room for one.” ch’Daahl looked back up at him and added,” Of course, a psychiatrist might give me an explanation for your obsession with beanie babies.”
“They’re my children,” he said, a serious look on his face. “I need something to come home to at night.”
“Get a mate.”
“Only when I get back to Cait, sir. That’s where the best girls are.” Rruuri synced the pod up with the ship for docking. A loud bang resonated through the travel pod’s hull when it connected with the ship. There was a little grinding sound from the airlock doors when they opened up. The Captain handed the data slate back to Lieutenant Rruuri and the Caitian followed the Andorian onto the ship. Both officers were met by a young man with an ensign’s pin on his shoulder strap.
“Welcome back aboard, sir,” the ensign said, snapping to attention. “I’m Ensign Arthur Fowler. Commander Bevan told me to report to you.”
ch’Daahl took a step forward, a hard look on his face. “And your position?”
“I’ve been assigned as your Operations Officer and Navigator, sir.”
Ignoring the ‘sirs’, he crossed his arms in front of him. “Just graduated from the Academy? What are you doing this far out?”
“Well, sir,” Fowler said, feeling small in the captain’s presence,” I asked to join the Border Service. I was supposed to join the Snowfin which is in for repairs, but Admiral Dixon told me that I was needed here. So here I am.”
“The Border Service is a time-honored service,” Rruuri said, remembering that he had a cousin aboard the Snowfin.
“So is Starfleet.” ch’Daahl offered the young Human his hand. “Welcome aboard, Mister Fowler.”
“Thank you, sir.” The ensign shook his blue hand. “Commander Bevin also asked me to inform you that Commodore Han has changed our departure time with new orders.”
“Good old Commodore Han,” Rruuri said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Always looking out for us and our interests.”
“I’m sure that there’s an explanation, Sh’ar. Don’t be crabby or no shuris for dinner.” Therkitt started walking towards the nearest turbolift, waving over his shoulder. “Come on, Fowler. Let’s get a-cracking. This iceberg isn’t going to drive itself.”
* * * *
It was clear that Commander Jill Bevin didn’t have much time for anything but her duties. Not even the time of day for her commanding officer. She was perched on her back underneath the Navigation/Operations console, tools in his hands. This had been her post, even before elevating to the position of First Officer, and with a new officer taking over the position, the blonde-haired woman from Poplar, England wanted the systems working well.
She was also anxious because Commodore Han had changed their departure time.
ch’Daahl, she thought to herself for a moment while she replaced a KX-19 component. I can’t believe that the commodore allowed him to stay in command. I thought she’d send him packing back to Andoria. She knew that the Andorian felt some regret over abandoning the crews of two shuttlecraft. Those crews included their previous science officer and communications officer.
“Commander,” the engineering technician perched over the helm console,” the updated star charts from Stellar Cartography aren’t downloading into the data cache.”
“It’s probably a bad umbilical connection or it's the software.” Bevan picked herself up from out underneath the Nav/Ops console and rose up to her feet. She looked over the technician’s shoulder, wiping her brow on her white turtleneck. “Try a different umbilical cord. If that doesn’t work, try slowing down the data compression rate.”
“Already done, Commander. Neither method worked.”
“Call Engineering and ask Commander Zantha for help.”
“But, ma’am -- “
“We’re all busy here and -- “
“Captain on the Bridge!,” Ensign Fowler called out after the turbolift doors opened and he stepped out after Captain ch’Daahl and Lieutenant Rruuri. Bevan turned around to face them and like the rest of the Bridge personnel, she soon joined them in standing at attention before their captain.
“At ease, ladies and gentle beings.” ch’Daahl stepped forward. “Return to your work, please.”
A series of nods and ‘aye, sirs’ came from them. Everyone returned to their duties and the Andorian captain walked down to the center of the Bridge while Rruuri went to look over the Tactical console where Lieutenant Falcone was running a diagnostic.
“I’m sorry,” ch’Daahl told Bevan.
“Sir?”
“For Matt,” he said, bringing up the Nelson’s previous science officer, Lieutenant Commander Garrett Matthews. No one had called him by his first name. He was always ‘Matthews’ or ‘Matt’ to them.
“Thank you, sir,” she answered with a nod. She and Matthews had been in a relationship for the last two years. They were supposed to get married on Earth when the Nelson returned to Earth at the end of her tour.
ch’Daahl looked around the Bridge and saw open panels, circuit boards were torn askew, and consoles that were in pieces. “How’s it going here? Are we going to be able to depart on schedule?”
Bevan looked at him, staring at him for a second. Then she unburdened her soul to him. “If we had twenty hours, my answer might be maybe, and that’s with Zantha whipping her engineers to a frazzle.” She sighed deeply and let out a breath. “An extra day. That would be nice.”
“Understood. Maybe I can help out.”
“Help out?”
“Yeah,” he said, a stubborn look on his face. He turned and pointed at Rruuri. “Don’t let him stand around and let him mentally undress the female crew members. Give him something to do.”
Rruuri heard him and stared at Therkitt. “I guess my vacation is over.”
Bevan looked at both men for a moment before returning to her work.
“I’ll be down in Main Engineering, Commander. Keep everyone at work, getting the ship ready. We’ll have a senior staff meeting after we get underway.” He understood the importance of getting the Nelson underway. Task Force Hadrian needed them to deal with this Cardassian menace.
“Aye, sir,” was Bevan’s answer.
The Andorian disappeared inside a turbolift, the doors closing behind him. Bevan looked towards Rruuri and crossed her arms over her chest. “We’re having problems with the torpedo launchers,” she told the security officer. “I don’t suppose you could help Falcone with them?”
“I used to live in a torpedo bay, ma’am,” the Caitian assured him.
“Really?,” she asked him with slight astonishment.
“When I was an enlisted cub in the Caitian Planetary Navy.”
Bevan nodded. “Then why don’t you two see what you can do to get them working?”
“Aye, Commander,” came from both men and they soon left the Bridge.
* * * *
“I think you’re happier out there than you are here on Nelphia,” Farog told his wife as she looked back at her from the small monitor on the Chief Engineer’s desk.
“I still miss you and the kids,” said Lieutenant Commander Zantha while she stood behind her desk, working on a data slate. She had requested reassignment after Shokell but Commodore Han had asked her to remain aboard the Nelson. The commander of K-17 thought that her talents as an engineer were better served here than anywhere here. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to move back to Tellar?”
“They just started school here and I’ve had my fill of station life while you gallivant around the Galaxy, Zan.”
“I don’t ‘gallivant’.”
Farog glared at her and continued,” I want Grott and Talar to spend some time on a planet. To feel the grass underneath their hooves and to breathe fresh air, not recycled. I’m tired of staring at bulkheads, dear.”
“I understand, Farog, honey. I just wish you and the younglings were closer so I could visit you more.”
“If it wasn’t for that commodore of yours, you could have joined the Starfleet Corps of Engineers team here.”
“I could have, especially after ch’Daahl showed his true colors.” She sighed, looking at him. He was a most understanding Tellarite and she loved him deeply.
Their conversation was interrupted by the sudden whoosh of the door sliding open. A tall, middle-aged man stood in the doorway and he wore a Lieutenant Commander’s pip on his shoulder strap.
“Farog, I have to go.” She could see the sadness in his sharp gaze. She missed him too.
“I’ll try to call you when we have the new subspace satellite system online,” he said before his image disappeared from the monitor screen.
“Was that your mate?,” the stranger asked her.
Zantha ignored that question, looking towards him. “Can I help you, sir?”
“You can if you’re Commander Zantha.”
Zantha looked down at her engineering suit, thinking that it would be obvious. “That’s me, pinkskin. What do you want? I’m on a deadline and I don’t need anyone bothering me, right now.”
“I’m Brian Runyon,” the visitor said without offering his hand as Humans were known to do. “And I’d like to talk to you about the ship’s sensors.”
“Go talk to Commander Benson!,” the chief engineer barked back at him. “He and those idiot excuses for yard dogs calibrated them after they installed the new parts. You shouldn’t be bothering me, pinkskin.”
“Listen here, Miss Piggy, are you certain about that?” He was as angry as she was. “Because I was just in the science lab. It’s such a fine and dandy place to work in… if the damned diagnostics didn’t seem to meet the criteria!”
“What the frak criteria are you mouthing on about, Commander?,” Zantha asked with a hard look growing on her face. “Benson and his quacks have assured me that the damned sensors and your equipment are all up to date!”
“Well, it seems as if they cut some corners on their work to get it up and running, Miss Piggy.” He paused for a moment before adding,” I’m not here to tell you how you do your job. I’d just like to have a working sensor array so I can do my job.”
“Of course, pinkskin. I’ll get to it, immediately.” She had already been looking at a problem with a plasma manifold when her husband called her.
“Thank you, Commander.” The science officer took a step back from her and asked,” What’s he like?”
“Who?”
“The Captain.”
“Sometimes, he’s as cold as ice, and sometimes, he’s as yellow as mustard.”
“Really?”
“You’d know if you were at Shokell.”
“I… uh…” He turned and headed towards the door. “Just get my sensors working, okay?”
“I’ll get on it.”
Zantha frowned as the door closed behind him. This new science officer seemed to be more of a pain in the frakas than Matthews had been. She settled herself in a chair behind her desk and went back to work on her data slate. She was close to an answer when there was a knock at the door.
“What now?!”
The doors whooshed open and the Nelson’s Andorian captain walked in. “Problems, Zan?”
* * * *
Captain’s Log, Stardate 10899.4;
According to Commander Zantha, we’re ready to leave. The crew is capable, but we are missing some personnel in some departments. I have yet to see Doctor Hughes show her face yet.
Meanwhile, I’m also waiting for my new helmsman to show up.
The door chimes whistled and the Andorian looked up from the computer screen that he had been looking at. “Enter,” he said, turning his head towards the Ready Room door.
The doors opened to reveal a Vulcan walk in. Therkitt noticed that he was wearing a Lieutenant’s pin on his shoulder strap. “Captain ch’Daahl?,” he asked him.
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“Lieutenant Syelak, reporting for duty, sir, as Chief Helmsman,” the dark-haired man said, standing at attention.
“Stand at ease, or you’ll bruise your spine,” Therkitt told him. “What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”
“Commodore Han has assigned me to the Nelson since your previous helmsman was transferred to the USS Hermione at his own request.” The Vulcan’s response was cold and logical as he expected it would be.
ch’Daahl nodded. “Welcome aboard, Lieutenant. Do you understand your duties?”
“I was the previous Chief Helmsman aboard the USS Farragut, sir.”
“This isn’t a heavy cruiser.”
“Indeed, sir.”
“So you won’t have any problems with the Nelson?,” ch’Daahl asked him.
“I believe the Human members of your crew would state that a ship is a ship.”
This was a fact that he could agree with. He was about to say something to that effect when the intercom whistled. “Captain,” said Lieutenant Akuna, the new ship’s communications officer,” there’s an incoming transmission coming through from K-17.”
“Patch it through to the Ready Room, Malli.” ch’Daahl dismissed the Vulcan officer before he turned towards the monitor on his desktop. The logo of the United Federation of Planets appeared for a moment, blinking and waiting for him to give a retinal scan. Tapping a few buttons on his control panel, the monitor scanned the retina in his right eye before the image of Commodore Ren Han appeared before him.
“Commodore Han,” the blue-skinned alien said, lowering his head and antennae in greeting,” this is a pleasure?”
“What’s the status of your ship and crew, Captain?,” the older Human woman asked him, getting to the business straight at hand. She seemed bitter and tired of her position. “According to the updated schedule, you have four hours before departure.”
“My crew is working as hard as they can, Commodore. They’re still picking up the pieces from the mess that Commander Benson and his lot left.”
“This isn’t a time for excuses, Captain ch’Daahl. The Nelson needs to leave K-17 in four hours to make her rendezvous with Task Force Hadrian. The USS Indianapolis is due to dock soon and they need your spot.”
What is she so worried about?, he asked himself as he scowled back at Han’s remark. “Nelson still needs some work, Commodore. Work that can only be handled by qualified personnel, not incompetent morons! Commander Zantha says -- “
“I don’t care what your chief engineer says, you frakking coward! You have your orders! Follow them or I’ll remove you from command and slap you with charges so fast that you won’t have time to get yourself a JAG lawyer for your damned court-martial! Am I understood, Captain ch’Daahl?”
Han was known for her ‘take no prisoners’ attitude towards her subordinates.
“No.”
Han looked flabbergasted for a moment instead of angry. “What don’t you understand?”
“The mission, Commodore. What are we doing with Task Force Hadrian?”
“Further orders will be transmitted to you once you rendezvous with the Gettysburg! For now, move your ass! Han out!”
Commodore Han’s face disappeared from the monitor screen and ch’Daahl leaned back in his chair. He rubbed his chin and he wondered what the mission was for it to be so important.
* * * *
“You took on a squad of Klingons all by yourself?,” asked Malli Akuna.
Sh’arash Rruuri smiled at her, his fangs showing their sharp ferocity. “With my own paws.”
“Your paws?”
“You would call them ‘hands’,” he said, wiggling his digits.
The Nelson was completing the end of her time at Starbase K-17 and Captain ch’Daahl had ordered that all of the senior officers report to the Bridge. Rruuri was watching everyone as they performed their duties. The new officers, Runyon, Syelak, and Fowler were at their stations, their eyes and hands focused on their work.
“They look like fur mittens.”
“That’s funny. My sister used to call me ‘Mittens’.” He chuckled slightly before the Ready Room door opened. Therkitt walked up and Commander Bevan rose from her seat in the command chair. He gave the Andorian a thumbs-up and he just gave him a look of confusion.
Walking over and sitting down in his chair, Therkitt pressed a button on his chair’s armrest. “ch’Daahl to Engineering.”
“Zantha here,” came over the Bridge speakers. “You caught me washing my hair.”
We sound like a crew of Border dogs, the Andorian told himself. “Are we ready to leave, Zan? I’m tired of the company.” For that remark, he meant Commodore Han.
“My baby is as ready as she can be, Cap,” the chief engineer told him.
Therkitt nodded, his face as placid as a frozen lake. “Keep Nelson together as best as you can, Zan.”
“Aye, you bet I will.”
Turning off the intercom, he turned his head to look at his First Officer. The British woman stood beside him, looking back at him with the same determination that he had for the unknown.
“Can we go now?,” he asked her.
“If the chief agrees, then I do, Captain.”
“Then take us out.”
Bevan took a step forward and said,” Helm, retract all moorings and cut all umbilicals. Set port and starboard thrusters at station-keeping. Ease her out slowly.”
“Aye, ma’am,” the Vulcan responded, his hands slowly moving over his panel. All around them, the crew could hear the moorings retract through the deck plates. “Moorings are retracted as are umbilicals to K-17. Thrusters are stationary and we are moving forward at a hundred KPH.”
“Thank you, Mister Syelak,” Therkitt said, accepting a data slate from a yeoman. “Push us ahead at one-quarter impulse power, please.”
Bevan and the other Bridge officers looked at their commanding officer with surprise. They had never heard him utter such an order before. Runyon cleared his throat as if he were to say something. Fowler and Syelak looked at each other while Rruuri and Akuna shared a look.
“Uh, Captain,” the Caitian started to say.
“Captain,” Syelak said, turning in his chair to face him,” Starfleet regulations state that only thrusters should be used when a starship is departing from a spacedock facility.”
“It’s good that you know that, Syelak.” He looked at the data slate for a moment before adding,” You heard my order.”
“Aye, sir.”
Syelak turned back to his station and applied power to the ship’s impulse engines, increasing their acceleration. They had been in standby mode but when they surged with power, the starship pushed quickly away from K-17.
Minutes passed by before Fowler said,” All decks report ready for warp, Captain.”
A rare smile formed on Therkitt’s face, his eyes looking out into the vortex of space as the anticipation filled inside of him.
“Expedite!”
The End.
