This is my "toe in the water" for a possible ongoing series. I actually put a lot of thought and research into this-wanted to get it right. Be harsh or gentle-either will help.
Captain Niklesh Sanjay sat in the lounge of McKinley Station, sipping red tea and gazing out of the window at his new command. A Challenger-class starship, the Seleya was currently in the primary dock to complete personnel and supply loading. Captain Sanjay could see worker bees attending to last-minute tasks, flitting about the Seleya’s vertically-mounted nacelles and wide saucer section. A padd rested on the table in front of him, ignored in favor of the magnificent view. The quiet murmur of many beings filled the lounge with a background noise that reminded Sanjay of the warp drive aboard the Cochrane, his previous command. She’d been an Oberth-class, a tiny ship indeed. The Seleya was massive by comparison, 390 meters stem to stern with a crew of over 400. She wasn’t as big as a Galaxy-class but Sanjay thought she was beautiful, a graceful schooner to sail amongst the stars. He sighed contentedly and tore his eyes away to peruse the padd in front of him. Tapping the interface, he began to read the dossiers of his new command crew.
Commander Carol M’Benga was a 29 year-old firebrand Sanjay had tapped for his First Officer as a counter-point to his own placid nature. Young for such a high rank, she had distinguished herself several times over the years both in battle and during missions of exploration. She had won a citation for bravery at Wolf 359 after rescuing 47 crewmen from the Chekov during the thick of the battle. Her service file stated she had been in command of the transport Tarawa, carrying torpedo reloads for the fleet, when the Chekov had been badly mangled by the Borg cube. Ignoring the fact that her ship was, in essence, a flying bomb, she had swooped in under the cube’s fire and held position long enough to transport the remaining survivors off. Starfleet had been impressed enough to assign her as Second Officer on the Lexington for a one-year tour. During that time she had handled the clean-up of a botched First Contact at Kellen Four, doing so well that the Kell were even now being considered for Federation membership. Although some of her previous commanders had noted a proclivity towards acting on her first impulse, she had proven herself right more often than wrong. Sanjay wasn’t sure if she was wildly lucky or one of those rare breeds who jumped from the beginning of the problem straight to the solution with no steps in between. Either way, he knew he tended towards conservatism and he figured she would open his eyes to new ideas.
As his Second Officer, Sanjay had requested a young Ferengi he had heard about during the war with the Dominion, one Lieutenant Nog. Nog had been serving as the Tactical Officer aboard the warship Defiant during the war and had fulfilled the same role aboard Deep Space Nine afterwards. Sanjay had been friends for some time with Captain Shelby of the Sutherland and when they had discussed his new command recently she had suggested Nog, who had requested a transfer to an exploration vessel. Shelby had told Sanjay some interesting stories during the war about the Ferengi’s exploits. He was looking forward to meeting him and finding out if the tales were true.
Sanjay knew any deep space exploration vessel could live or die by its Science Officer’s abilities to explain the unknown and he’d agonized over the decision of who to get for this role. There had been a number of candidates available, some old veterans and others newly-minted ensigns just out of the Academy. Unfortunately, the war years had left a stunning dearth in between. Between the hurry-up curriculum that pared away any “extra” education and the appalling casualties inflicted by the Dominion and the Breen young but seasoned science officers were mighty thin on the ground. He’d finally opted to go with a wet-behind–the-ears ensign from Arizona named Louis Perling. His academic record had been exemplary and several of his professors had compared him to legends like Hawking and Dyson. Also, during the fourth year survival exercise, Perling had been dropped 50 miles deep into the Rockies with nothing but the clothes on his back. This was a pretty standard procedure for seniors. They were expected to survive using their wits alone and return to the base camp within 3 days. Grades were given out based on their condition and appearance, as well as on elapsed time. Anyone unable to return within the 72 hour period was transported out via the subcutaneous transponder implanted in their arm. Perling had walked into camp on the evening of the second day carrying a haunch of venison over his shoulder. His hair had been combed at the time. Sanjay suspected there was more to Ensign Louis Perling than his academic record revealed.
Sanjay took a drink from his now-cold tea and set it hastily back on the table. He skimmed over the officers who had opted to remain with the Seleya after McGowan, her previous captain, had taken the promotion to Commodore and transferred to Fleet Command in San Francisco. Dr. Jesus Ramirez was familiar to Sanjay, they having run into each other a few times at receptions and diplomatic affairs. The soft-spoken Rigellian-Human commander often startled others when he spoke to them for the first time. Although the Vulcanoid genes of his Rigellian father dominated, giving him a non-human appearance, his voice was pure Latin American. Sanjay had enjoyed their conversations together, finding the doctor both erudite and funny.
Sanjay wasn’t quite sure what to make of his new Security Officer. A graduate of Notre Dame before attending the Academy, Staff Sergeant Damian Mitchell had excelled at athletics, particularly football. Sanjay wasn’t sure but he didn’t think it was the same game he, himself, had played as a boy in New Delhi. Not if Mitchell’s photo was anything to go by. The man was a mountain, over 2 meters tall and built large. He’d gone directly into the Fleet Special Forces training course upon graduation and then to active service with the Ninth Fleet on detached duty. Much of his service file previous to transferring aboard the Seleya at the end of the war was classified. Captain McGowan had given him very high ratings, though, so it seemed he knew his job.
Chief Engineer Lt. Commander Jerix was a twenty-year Starfleet veteran who seemed to go wherever he was needed. The Denobulan had postings in his record for Utopia Planetia, the Daystrom Institute, and the Academy of Engineering on Vulcan. He’d taught for two years at the S.C.E. facilities in Aberdeen and had done five years with the S.C.E. out in the field as well. The Seleya was the first regular posting to a ship in his long career, but with a recommendation in his service file from Montgomery Scott there was no question of his abilities. He’d been aboard the Seleya for the last 3 months overseeing her re-fit.
Sanjay checked the time and realized he needed to get on board for the swearing in ceremony. He put his tea in the reclaimator and straightened his dress jacket, then headed for the loading tube.
Carol watched him leaving the lounge. “Handsome,” she thought. A distinguished looking man in his middle years, Captain Sanjay sported a full head of still-black hair and a Vandyke beard peppered with grey. He seemed confident and athletically trim. Carol wondered if he knew Kendo. He was built perfectly for the discipline and she would need a new sparring partner. Shaking her head, she headed off towards the ship. “Wouldn’t do to be late my first day on the job,” she murmured to her self.
SWEARING IN CEREMONY, U.S.S. Seleya 1400 HOURS
The shuttle bay of the Seleya was immense. Due to the linear design of the Challenger-class ships the warp core, which would ordinarily run vertically through the engineering hull and limit the length of the shuttle bay in most ships, instead ran horizontally. This allowed the designers to utilize the entire top half of the engineering hull as a shuttle bay and cargo area. The Seleya carried 8 shuttles instead of the typical 4, although they were currently holding station outside the ship, piloted by McKinley Station personnel. Instead, the entire complement of the Seleya was assembled in the bay at parade rest. A podium had been erected to face the crew and Admiral Janeway stood behind it, Sanjay to her immediate right. On the Admiral’s left were M’Benga, Nog, Ramirez, Perling and Mitchell. Only Jerix was missing, and Sanjay figured he was exercising a Chief Engineer’s unwritten prerogative to ignore ceremonial occasions in order to fine-tune the engines.
Admiral Janeway cleared her throat. “Pursuant to orders from Starfleet Command BuShips, Admiral Kathryn Janeway, Commanding, I hereby establish Captain Niklesh Sanjay as Officer, Commanding, of the U.S.S. Seleya. Computer, transfer all command protocols to Captain Sanjay, authorization Janeway, Omega, Alpha, Alpha, One.”
“Confirmed.” The computer spoke so all could hear. “Command transfer recognized. Protocols transferred.”
Before anyone could applaud or otherwise react, Vulcan harp music began to play. Janeway smiled at the look of confusion on Sanjay’s face. The massed crew parted right down the center, forming an aisle, down which marched Jerix in full dress uniform carrying a crate-sized box. He stopped in front of Sanjay, placing the box on the floor in front of his feet. Inside, Sanjay could see a piece of blackened metal about a meter long and wide. A piece of transparent aluminum covered the top of the box.
Jerix spoke. “Know this, Captain Niklesh Sanjay. Today you have taken command of more than a ship, you have taken command of a rich tradition. Within this box lies the only remaining piece of the first starship named Seleya, the ship which was chosen by the Vulcan High Command to make First Contact with Earth. After the foundation of the Federation the Seleya was the first Vulcan ship in Starfleet, where it served with distinction for many years. It was finally destroyed at the Battle of Donatu Five. This is all that remains. It is here to remind us of where we came from and to act as a reminder of the grand tradition of the name… Selaya. With your permission, sir, I will install it in a place of honor in the crew’s lounge for all to see and reflect on.” The music came to a close. Jerix waited expectantly.
Sanjay gave his first order as captain of the Seleya.
“Yes, Chief. Please do that.” A cheer went up from the ranks.
M’Benga bellowed out, “Dismissed!” and the crew went to their stations. As they filtered out Jerix once more picked up the box and headed for the exit. Janeway turned to Sanjay.
“So, Captain. A momentous day for you, I imagine. I hope your voyages are fruitful. As the first ship with a charter of exploration since the war you are, in a way, in the vanguard of Starfleet’s rededication to its primary mission. More hopes rest with you than you might imagine. Too many of our brethren have been tainted, sickened by all of the killing, all of the deaths. You are our breath of fresh air, captain.”
Sanjay looked abashed. “I had thought the weight of a major command was enough of a burden on my shoulders. Between you and my Chief Engineer, I am near to staggering under the burden.”
Jameway’s eyes held a glitter that reflected her smile. “Captain, it is not a burden. Take it from me, what you are feeling is a blessing. As one ship’s captain to another, let me say that it just takes a little time to realize it. Go with God, Captain.”
“Thank you, Admiral Janeway,” Sanjay said as Janeway called for transport from McKinley Station.
“Call me Kathyrn,” she replied, and then she was gone.
OFFICER’S BRIEFING, U.S.S. SELEYA, 1500 HOURS
Captain Sanjay sat at the head of the table, waiting for his officers to settle into their seats. There were nods of acknowledgement between them as they organized themselves. Sanjay used the time to study each more closely.
Carol M’Benga was a true Nubian princess in appearance, with a classic beauty that hadn’t been created but merely was. Her movements were precise but elegant as a trained dancer. She seemed to flow into her chair on Sanjay’s left. Nog, on the other hand, had the herky-jerky body language common to most of the Ferengi Sanjay had met over the years. He seemed cheerful as he chattered at Jerix but his eyes held that look Sanjay thought of privately as “the million-year stare”. Sometime in the past, probably during the war, Nog had seen and done things that affected his soul. Jerix sat down like he was bellying up to a bar. His face was split in a wide smile as he listened to Nog. Louis Perling acted hesitant and Sanjay noted that he took a chair at the far end of the table from his captain. Jesus, on the other hand, slipped easily into the open chair on Sanjay’s right. Sgt. Mitchell sat with an economy of movement, keeping his back ramrod straight the entire time. Sanjay opened his mouth and the room grew silent.
“Greetings, everyone,” he began, “We are scheduled for departure at 1600 hours so I will try to make this brief. First, I want you all to know that I am looking forward to working with you. Each of you brings an excellent record with you and I’m sure that together we will meet or exceed Starfleet’s expectations of us. That having been said, let me explain our current orders.” Sanjay paused for a moment and stroked his beard. “Since the war ended Starfleet has been busy helping rebuild those worlds that were hardest hit by the Dominion, providing aid and ferrying supplies and personnel around to places that needed it the most. Due to the massive losses the Fleet sustained during the conflict the remainder of the available ships have been kept busy defending the frontier, putting down the occasional pirate and dealing with opportunists who looked on this as a chance to sneak one past Starfleet. The recent unpleasantness in the Briar Patch comes to mind. However,” he smiled, “I’m happy to say that with the latest wave of ships coming out of Copernicus and Utopia Plenitia, combined with the recent class of graduates from the Academy,” here he nodded at Louis, who gave him a nervous smile back, “Starfleet is ready to re-dedicate itself to its primary task. Seleya will be the first ship since the war with orders to go exploring. We are not tasked for any other duties, we are not to remain within Federation boundaries, we won’t be chasing Syndicate raiders. Our job is to go out and learn more about our galaxy. “
The reaction around the table was a chorus of enthused murmurs that warmed Sanjay’s heart. Focusing on Jerix he asked,
“Chief, are the engines checked out and ready?”
The Denobulan grinned harder, if that was possible. “Spic and span, Captain. We can leave anytime you would like.”
Sanjay nodded at him. “Commander M’Benga, everyone present and accounted for?”
“Yes, sir, all personnel had arrived as of 1400 hours. Bridge systems check out and the shuttles and runabouts have been returned to the bay.”
“Good,” Sanjay said. “Mr. Nog, I’d like you to check over our supplies down in the cargo bays. It has been my experience that something always gets left out or forgotten.”
Nog stood. “I’ll get right on it, Captain.” He headed for the door.
Sanjay also stood up. “Ok, places everyone. Let’s prepare for departure. Mr. Nog?”
Nog stopped in the open doorway. “Yes, Captain?”
“Please report to the bridge when you’ve finished your inspection. I’d like you to take us out of spacedock.” Nog gave an enthusiastic “Yes, sir!” before stepping out into the corridor. The remainder of the crew headed for their stations throughout the ship.
McKinley Station, U.S.S. Seleya, 1600 HOURS
When Nog walked onto the bridge the rest of the command crew were already at their stations. After receiving a whispered update from the Andorian ensign at the helm Nog displaced him. “Awaiting orders, Captain.”
“Was everything ship-shape and Bristol fashion down in the cargo bays, Mr. Nog?” Sanjay inquired.
“Actually, sir, someone failed to load an entire crate of self-sealing stem bolts. I arranged for Supply and Logistics to transport it over.”
Sanjay said, “Very good, Mr. Nog. Commander M’Benga, if you would, please?”
Carol stepped up to a position just behind Nog’s seat. “Mr. Nog, clear docking clamps and umbilicals. Light a fire in the engines and prepare to move us out.”
Nog looked puzzled for a moment. “Light a fire…oh, aye-aye, Commander. Umbilicals cleared. Impulse engine on line.”
Carol rested a hand on the backrest of Nog’s chair. “Take us out Mr. Nog. And Mr. Nog?” He craned his head around to look at her. “Try not to scratch the paint.”
Nog grinned hugely, showing a mouthful of pointy teeth. “Aye-aye, Commander. No scratches. Got it. Activating thrusters now.” Slowly, with a grace belying her size, the Seleya eased out of spacedock. As she cleared the dock Earth drifted momentarily across the viewscreen and then they faced the deep black of space. “Going to one-quarter impulse…now!” Nog said.
“Accelerate to full impulse after we pass Jupiter Station, Mr. Nog.” Sanjay ordered, standing up. “I’ll be in my ready room. Commander, you have the bridge. Take us to warp once we clear the gravitational limit. Make course for Starbase 31. That’s to be our jump-off point for the great unknown.” He headed for the door as Carol sat down in his place.
“Aye, sir,” she confirmed.
SOMEWHERE OUT PAST MARS, U.S.S. SELEYA, 1730 HOURS
After meeting with Sgt. Mitchell to go over the current state of the Security Dept. (good, verging on excellent, if Sanjay was any judge of things,) Sanjay had unpacked a few mementos and placed them in his ready room. The only decorations he had inherited from Captain McGowan were a pair of paintings. The first depicted the original Seleya in a laser print burned into a sheet of brushed aluminum. The second was a gloriously done oil and canvas of the ship’s namesake mountain on Vulcan. On the credenza beneath them there now rested a hand-carved, wooden figurine of his first command, the Cochrane. The statuette had been a thank-you gift from Captain Akinola of the Bluefin after Sanjay had arranged for a case of Andorian rum to end up in the Border Cutter’s hold. On the wall opposite his desk Sanjay had hung a mandela, a gift from his parents when he had graduated Starfleet Academy. On the desk, itself, sat a smiling jade Buddha incense holder. Currently, a lightly smoldering jasmine stick protruded from it. Although a cosmopolitan starship captain in most things, Sanjay still preserved a few of the cultural habits of his youth in India.
Sanjay was watching Jupiter slide past his ready room window when he felt the ship accelerate to full impulse. The Seleya gave a mighty lurch, as though it had run smack into a brick wall. The Buddha, the Cochrane statuette, and Sanjay were all thrown violently to the floor. Sanjay’s vision grew hazy and blurred with indescribable colors, his head began throbbing and then, darkness.
SIX MONTHS LATER, SAN FRANCISCO, STARFLEET COMMAND, ADMIRAL JANEWAY’S OFFICE
Admiral Janeway took the proffered padd from Cmdr. Reginald Barkley, who was standing in front of her desk. “These are the Science Division’s final conclusions regarding the Seleya Incident?” she inquired. Reg nodded, seating himself across from her.
“Yes, Admiral. It seems that all of the unusual activity in the vicinity of Jupiter Station over the last few years was the cause of the problem. Time-traveling Borg, failed transwarp experiments and a few other factors combined to weaken the structure of space/time near Jupiter. This weakening caused what can only be described as a ‘fracture’ in space, similar in some ways to a cosmic string. When the Seleya accelerated to full impulse it slammed straight into the fracture. Although we only recovered a few small pieces of hull plating, our best theoretical physicists assured me that there was no way the Seleya could have survived. Either the stresses would have shredded the ship on a molecular level according to one theory or it would have been compacted into an object the size of a pea or smaller. At least, that’s what the other dominant theory holds. We really don’t know very much on a practical level about cosmic strings or space/time fractures. Either way, the Seleya is in all likelihood destroyed with all hands.” Reg had a pained look on his face. “I’m sorry, Admiral. The only good news I have is that as long as our ships stay at one-half impulse or below until they reach the orbit of Pluto they won’t suffer the same fate. We’re working on a way to seal the fracture but right now, as I said, all we have are theories.”
Janeway looked sadly at the padd in her hand. “Will you be attending the memorial ceremony at the Hall of Ships on Saturday?” she asked.
“Of course, Admiral. I had been friends with Chief Engineer Jerix for several years now. It’s the least I can do.” Janeway nodded slowly.
“I’ll see you Saturday, then,” she said as Reg made his way to the door. He waved hesitantly and left.
Captain Niklesh Sanjay sat in the lounge of McKinley Station, sipping red tea and gazing out of the window at his new command. A Challenger-class starship, the Seleya was currently in the primary dock to complete personnel and supply loading. Captain Sanjay could see worker bees attending to last-minute tasks, flitting about the Seleya’s vertically-mounted nacelles and wide saucer section. A padd rested on the table in front of him, ignored in favor of the magnificent view. The quiet murmur of many beings filled the lounge with a background noise that reminded Sanjay of the warp drive aboard the Cochrane, his previous command. She’d been an Oberth-class, a tiny ship indeed. The Seleya was massive by comparison, 390 meters stem to stern with a crew of over 400. She wasn’t as big as a Galaxy-class but Sanjay thought she was beautiful, a graceful schooner to sail amongst the stars. He sighed contentedly and tore his eyes away to peruse the padd in front of him. Tapping the interface, he began to read the dossiers of his new command crew.
Commander Carol M’Benga was a 29 year-old firebrand Sanjay had tapped for his First Officer as a counter-point to his own placid nature. Young for such a high rank, she had distinguished herself several times over the years both in battle and during missions of exploration. She had won a citation for bravery at Wolf 359 after rescuing 47 crewmen from the Chekov during the thick of the battle. Her service file stated she had been in command of the transport Tarawa, carrying torpedo reloads for the fleet, when the Chekov had been badly mangled by the Borg cube. Ignoring the fact that her ship was, in essence, a flying bomb, she had swooped in under the cube’s fire and held position long enough to transport the remaining survivors off. Starfleet had been impressed enough to assign her as Second Officer on the Lexington for a one-year tour. During that time she had handled the clean-up of a botched First Contact at Kellen Four, doing so well that the Kell were even now being considered for Federation membership. Although some of her previous commanders had noted a proclivity towards acting on her first impulse, she had proven herself right more often than wrong. Sanjay wasn’t sure if she was wildly lucky or one of those rare breeds who jumped from the beginning of the problem straight to the solution with no steps in between. Either way, he knew he tended towards conservatism and he figured she would open his eyes to new ideas.
As his Second Officer, Sanjay had requested a young Ferengi he had heard about during the war with the Dominion, one Lieutenant Nog. Nog had been serving as the Tactical Officer aboard the warship Defiant during the war and had fulfilled the same role aboard Deep Space Nine afterwards. Sanjay had been friends for some time with Captain Shelby of the Sutherland and when they had discussed his new command recently she had suggested Nog, who had requested a transfer to an exploration vessel. Shelby had told Sanjay some interesting stories during the war about the Ferengi’s exploits. He was looking forward to meeting him and finding out if the tales were true.
Sanjay knew any deep space exploration vessel could live or die by its Science Officer’s abilities to explain the unknown and he’d agonized over the decision of who to get for this role. There had been a number of candidates available, some old veterans and others newly-minted ensigns just out of the Academy. Unfortunately, the war years had left a stunning dearth in between. Between the hurry-up curriculum that pared away any “extra” education and the appalling casualties inflicted by the Dominion and the Breen young but seasoned science officers were mighty thin on the ground. He’d finally opted to go with a wet-behind–the-ears ensign from Arizona named Louis Perling. His academic record had been exemplary and several of his professors had compared him to legends like Hawking and Dyson. Also, during the fourth year survival exercise, Perling had been dropped 50 miles deep into the Rockies with nothing but the clothes on his back. This was a pretty standard procedure for seniors. They were expected to survive using their wits alone and return to the base camp within 3 days. Grades were given out based on their condition and appearance, as well as on elapsed time. Anyone unable to return within the 72 hour period was transported out via the subcutaneous transponder implanted in their arm. Perling had walked into camp on the evening of the second day carrying a haunch of venison over his shoulder. His hair had been combed at the time. Sanjay suspected there was more to Ensign Louis Perling than his academic record revealed.
Sanjay took a drink from his now-cold tea and set it hastily back on the table. He skimmed over the officers who had opted to remain with the Seleya after McGowan, her previous captain, had taken the promotion to Commodore and transferred to Fleet Command in San Francisco. Dr. Jesus Ramirez was familiar to Sanjay, they having run into each other a few times at receptions and diplomatic affairs. The soft-spoken Rigellian-Human commander often startled others when he spoke to them for the first time. Although the Vulcanoid genes of his Rigellian father dominated, giving him a non-human appearance, his voice was pure Latin American. Sanjay had enjoyed their conversations together, finding the doctor both erudite and funny.
Sanjay wasn’t quite sure what to make of his new Security Officer. A graduate of Notre Dame before attending the Academy, Staff Sergeant Damian Mitchell had excelled at athletics, particularly football. Sanjay wasn’t sure but he didn’t think it was the same game he, himself, had played as a boy in New Delhi. Not if Mitchell’s photo was anything to go by. The man was a mountain, over 2 meters tall and built large. He’d gone directly into the Fleet Special Forces training course upon graduation and then to active service with the Ninth Fleet on detached duty. Much of his service file previous to transferring aboard the Seleya at the end of the war was classified. Captain McGowan had given him very high ratings, though, so it seemed he knew his job.
Chief Engineer Lt. Commander Jerix was a twenty-year Starfleet veteran who seemed to go wherever he was needed. The Denobulan had postings in his record for Utopia Planetia, the Daystrom Institute, and the Academy of Engineering on Vulcan. He’d taught for two years at the S.C.E. facilities in Aberdeen and had done five years with the S.C.E. out in the field as well. The Seleya was the first regular posting to a ship in his long career, but with a recommendation in his service file from Montgomery Scott there was no question of his abilities. He’d been aboard the Seleya for the last 3 months overseeing her re-fit.
Sanjay checked the time and realized he needed to get on board for the swearing in ceremony. He put his tea in the reclaimator and straightened his dress jacket, then headed for the loading tube.
Carol watched him leaving the lounge. “Handsome,” she thought. A distinguished looking man in his middle years, Captain Sanjay sported a full head of still-black hair and a Vandyke beard peppered with grey. He seemed confident and athletically trim. Carol wondered if he knew Kendo. He was built perfectly for the discipline and she would need a new sparring partner. Shaking her head, she headed off towards the ship. “Wouldn’t do to be late my first day on the job,” she murmured to her self.
SWEARING IN CEREMONY, U.S.S. Seleya 1400 HOURS
The shuttle bay of the Seleya was immense. Due to the linear design of the Challenger-class ships the warp core, which would ordinarily run vertically through the engineering hull and limit the length of the shuttle bay in most ships, instead ran horizontally. This allowed the designers to utilize the entire top half of the engineering hull as a shuttle bay and cargo area. The Seleya carried 8 shuttles instead of the typical 4, although they were currently holding station outside the ship, piloted by McKinley Station personnel. Instead, the entire complement of the Seleya was assembled in the bay at parade rest. A podium had been erected to face the crew and Admiral Janeway stood behind it, Sanjay to her immediate right. On the Admiral’s left were M’Benga, Nog, Ramirez, Perling and Mitchell. Only Jerix was missing, and Sanjay figured he was exercising a Chief Engineer’s unwritten prerogative to ignore ceremonial occasions in order to fine-tune the engines.
Admiral Janeway cleared her throat. “Pursuant to orders from Starfleet Command BuShips, Admiral Kathryn Janeway, Commanding, I hereby establish Captain Niklesh Sanjay as Officer, Commanding, of the U.S.S. Seleya. Computer, transfer all command protocols to Captain Sanjay, authorization Janeway, Omega, Alpha, Alpha, One.”
“Confirmed.” The computer spoke so all could hear. “Command transfer recognized. Protocols transferred.”
Before anyone could applaud or otherwise react, Vulcan harp music began to play. Janeway smiled at the look of confusion on Sanjay’s face. The massed crew parted right down the center, forming an aisle, down which marched Jerix in full dress uniform carrying a crate-sized box. He stopped in front of Sanjay, placing the box on the floor in front of his feet. Inside, Sanjay could see a piece of blackened metal about a meter long and wide. A piece of transparent aluminum covered the top of the box.
Jerix spoke. “Know this, Captain Niklesh Sanjay. Today you have taken command of more than a ship, you have taken command of a rich tradition. Within this box lies the only remaining piece of the first starship named Seleya, the ship which was chosen by the Vulcan High Command to make First Contact with Earth. After the foundation of the Federation the Seleya was the first Vulcan ship in Starfleet, where it served with distinction for many years. It was finally destroyed at the Battle of Donatu Five. This is all that remains. It is here to remind us of where we came from and to act as a reminder of the grand tradition of the name… Selaya. With your permission, sir, I will install it in a place of honor in the crew’s lounge for all to see and reflect on.” The music came to a close. Jerix waited expectantly.
Sanjay gave his first order as captain of the Seleya.
“Yes, Chief. Please do that.” A cheer went up from the ranks.
M’Benga bellowed out, “Dismissed!” and the crew went to their stations. As they filtered out Jerix once more picked up the box and headed for the exit. Janeway turned to Sanjay.
“So, Captain. A momentous day for you, I imagine. I hope your voyages are fruitful. As the first ship with a charter of exploration since the war you are, in a way, in the vanguard of Starfleet’s rededication to its primary mission. More hopes rest with you than you might imagine. Too many of our brethren have been tainted, sickened by all of the killing, all of the deaths. You are our breath of fresh air, captain.”
Sanjay looked abashed. “I had thought the weight of a major command was enough of a burden on my shoulders. Between you and my Chief Engineer, I am near to staggering under the burden.”
Jameway’s eyes held a glitter that reflected her smile. “Captain, it is not a burden. Take it from me, what you are feeling is a blessing. As one ship’s captain to another, let me say that it just takes a little time to realize it. Go with God, Captain.”
“Thank you, Admiral Janeway,” Sanjay said as Janeway called for transport from McKinley Station.
“Call me Kathyrn,” she replied, and then she was gone.
OFFICER’S BRIEFING, U.S.S. SELEYA, 1500 HOURS
Captain Sanjay sat at the head of the table, waiting for his officers to settle into their seats. There were nods of acknowledgement between them as they organized themselves. Sanjay used the time to study each more closely.
Carol M’Benga was a true Nubian princess in appearance, with a classic beauty that hadn’t been created but merely was. Her movements were precise but elegant as a trained dancer. She seemed to flow into her chair on Sanjay’s left. Nog, on the other hand, had the herky-jerky body language common to most of the Ferengi Sanjay had met over the years. He seemed cheerful as he chattered at Jerix but his eyes held that look Sanjay thought of privately as “the million-year stare”. Sometime in the past, probably during the war, Nog had seen and done things that affected his soul. Jerix sat down like he was bellying up to a bar. His face was split in a wide smile as he listened to Nog. Louis Perling acted hesitant and Sanjay noted that he took a chair at the far end of the table from his captain. Jesus, on the other hand, slipped easily into the open chair on Sanjay’s right. Sgt. Mitchell sat with an economy of movement, keeping his back ramrod straight the entire time. Sanjay opened his mouth and the room grew silent.
“Greetings, everyone,” he began, “We are scheduled for departure at 1600 hours so I will try to make this brief. First, I want you all to know that I am looking forward to working with you. Each of you brings an excellent record with you and I’m sure that together we will meet or exceed Starfleet’s expectations of us. That having been said, let me explain our current orders.” Sanjay paused for a moment and stroked his beard. “Since the war ended Starfleet has been busy helping rebuild those worlds that were hardest hit by the Dominion, providing aid and ferrying supplies and personnel around to places that needed it the most. Due to the massive losses the Fleet sustained during the conflict the remainder of the available ships have been kept busy defending the frontier, putting down the occasional pirate and dealing with opportunists who looked on this as a chance to sneak one past Starfleet. The recent unpleasantness in the Briar Patch comes to mind. However,” he smiled, “I’m happy to say that with the latest wave of ships coming out of Copernicus and Utopia Plenitia, combined with the recent class of graduates from the Academy,” here he nodded at Louis, who gave him a nervous smile back, “Starfleet is ready to re-dedicate itself to its primary task. Seleya will be the first ship since the war with orders to go exploring. We are not tasked for any other duties, we are not to remain within Federation boundaries, we won’t be chasing Syndicate raiders. Our job is to go out and learn more about our galaxy. “
The reaction around the table was a chorus of enthused murmurs that warmed Sanjay’s heart. Focusing on Jerix he asked,
“Chief, are the engines checked out and ready?”
The Denobulan grinned harder, if that was possible. “Spic and span, Captain. We can leave anytime you would like.”
Sanjay nodded at him. “Commander M’Benga, everyone present and accounted for?”
“Yes, sir, all personnel had arrived as of 1400 hours. Bridge systems check out and the shuttles and runabouts have been returned to the bay.”
“Good,” Sanjay said. “Mr. Nog, I’d like you to check over our supplies down in the cargo bays. It has been my experience that something always gets left out or forgotten.”
Nog stood. “I’ll get right on it, Captain.” He headed for the door.
Sanjay also stood up. “Ok, places everyone. Let’s prepare for departure. Mr. Nog?”
Nog stopped in the open doorway. “Yes, Captain?”
“Please report to the bridge when you’ve finished your inspection. I’d like you to take us out of spacedock.” Nog gave an enthusiastic “Yes, sir!” before stepping out into the corridor. The remainder of the crew headed for their stations throughout the ship.
McKinley Station, U.S.S. Seleya, 1600 HOURS
When Nog walked onto the bridge the rest of the command crew were already at their stations. After receiving a whispered update from the Andorian ensign at the helm Nog displaced him. “Awaiting orders, Captain.”
“Was everything ship-shape and Bristol fashion down in the cargo bays, Mr. Nog?” Sanjay inquired.
“Actually, sir, someone failed to load an entire crate of self-sealing stem bolts. I arranged for Supply and Logistics to transport it over.”
Sanjay said, “Very good, Mr. Nog. Commander M’Benga, if you would, please?”
Carol stepped up to a position just behind Nog’s seat. “Mr. Nog, clear docking clamps and umbilicals. Light a fire in the engines and prepare to move us out.”
Nog looked puzzled for a moment. “Light a fire…oh, aye-aye, Commander. Umbilicals cleared. Impulse engine on line.”
Carol rested a hand on the backrest of Nog’s chair. “Take us out Mr. Nog. And Mr. Nog?” He craned his head around to look at her. “Try not to scratch the paint.”
Nog grinned hugely, showing a mouthful of pointy teeth. “Aye-aye, Commander. No scratches. Got it. Activating thrusters now.” Slowly, with a grace belying her size, the Seleya eased out of spacedock. As she cleared the dock Earth drifted momentarily across the viewscreen and then they faced the deep black of space. “Going to one-quarter impulse…now!” Nog said.
“Accelerate to full impulse after we pass Jupiter Station, Mr. Nog.” Sanjay ordered, standing up. “I’ll be in my ready room. Commander, you have the bridge. Take us to warp once we clear the gravitational limit. Make course for Starbase 31. That’s to be our jump-off point for the great unknown.” He headed for the door as Carol sat down in his place.
“Aye, sir,” she confirmed.
SOMEWHERE OUT PAST MARS, U.S.S. SELEYA, 1730 HOURS
After meeting with Sgt. Mitchell to go over the current state of the Security Dept. (good, verging on excellent, if Sanjay was any judge of things,) Sanjay had unpacked a few mementos and placed them in his ready room. The only decorations he had inherited from Captain McGowan were a pair of paintings. The first depicted the original Seleya in a laser print burned into a sheet of brushed aluminum. The second was a gloriously done oil and canvas of the ship’s namesake mountain on Vulcan. On the credenza beneath them there now rested a hand-carved, wooden figurine of his first command, the Cochrane. The statuette had been a thank-you gift from Captain Akinola of the Bluefin after Sanjay had arranged for a case of Andorian rum to end up in the Border Cutter’s hold. On the wall opposite his desk Sanjay had hung a mandela, a gift from his parents when he had graduated Starfleet Academy. On the desk, itself, sat a smiling jade Buddha incense holder. Currently, a lightly smoldering jasmine stick protruded from it. Although a cosmopolitan starship captain in most things, Sanjay still preserved a few of the cultural habits of his youth in India.
Sanjay was watching Jupiter slide past his ready room window when he felt the ship accelerate to full impulse. The Seleya gave a mighty lurch, as though it had run smack into a brick wall. The Buddha, the Cochrane statuette, and Sanjay were all thrown violently to the floor. Sanjay’s vision grew hazy and blurred with indescribable colors, his head began throbbing and then, darkness.
SIX MONTHS LATER, SAN FRANCISCO, STARFLEET COMMAND, ADMIRAL JANEWAY’S OFFICE
Admiral Janeway took the proffered padd from Cmdr. Reginald Barkley, who was standing in front of her desk. “These are the Science Division’s final conclusions regarding the Seleya Incident?” she inquired. Reg nodded, seating himself across from her.
“Yes, Admiral. It seems that all of the unusual activity in the vicinity of Jupiter Station over the last few years was the cause of the problem. Time-traveling Borg, failed transwarp experiments and a few other factors combined to weaken the structure of space/time near Jupiter. This weakening caused what can only be described as a ‘fracture’ in space, similar in some ways to a cosmic string. When the Seleya accelerated to full impulse it slammed straight into the fracture. Although we only recovered a few small pieces of hull plating, our best theoretical physicists assured me that there was no way the Seleya could have survived. Either the stresses would have shredded the ship on a molecular level according to one theory or it would have been compacted into an object the size of a pea or smaller. At least, that’s what the other dominant theory holds. We really don’t know very much on a practical level about cosmic strings or space/time fractures. Either way, the Seleya is in all likelihood destroyed with all hands.” Reg had a pained look on his face. “I’m sorry, Admiral. The only good news I have is that as long as our ships stay at one-half impulse or below until they reach the orbit of Pluto they won’t suffer the same fate. We’re working on a way to seal the fracture but right now, as I said, all we have are theories.”
Janeway looked sadly at the padd in her hand. “Will you be attending the memorial ceremony at the Hall of Ships on Saturday?” she asked.
“Of course, Admiral. I had been friends with Chief Engineer Jerix for several years now. It’s the least I can do.” Janeway nodded slowly.
“I’ll see you Saturday, then,” she said as Reg made his way to the door. He waved hesitantly and left.
