“They gave you the Valkyrie?”  The voice belonged to his wife, who was packing up her things halfway across the universe. “That’s the biggest one yet!”  Angelica Fontana was a surgeon who had been working on the outer ends of the Federation, while her husband had been working through Starfleet in various roles: captain and then Task Force XO and then Task Force Commanding Officer. As he’d stepped down, he’d received a message offering him the command. He’d spent most of yesterday deciding it wasn’t quite time to return to a desk.

“Frontier Day hit us pretty hard, Ang.  I think they’re just looking for help now.”

She rolled her eyes on the screen, “You’ve done big things, Gero.  This is just the next step.”  I’ll meet you onboard in a few days.”  She kissed her hand and placed it against the screen, and he returned the favor.  He looked around the empty quarters, hopeful for what came next.  “Computer, send message to Varen – headed back into the field.  See you out there.”

“Welcome aboard, Captain Fontana.  The crew has all checked in.” The Yeoman handed him a PADD, “Orders just came in as well.”  She stood at attention and was off down the corridor.  Geronimo examined the orders, sucking in his breath as he read.  Two planets at war.  Delicate peace.  Assistance needed.  He handed his bag to the officer following him on board, “Stow it in my quarters.” He didn’t wait for a response as he moved quickly down the corridor to the turbolift, which then took him to the bridge, where he stepped out, waving away the ‘Captain on the bridge’ alert.  “As you were.  Helm, I need a course laid into the A3422 System, maximum warp.”  The ensign at the controls dutifully tapped at the console and reported they were ready.  “Get us going.”  The sleek Sovereign class lept to warp.  Fontana picked up his PADD.  The crew had been assembled quickly, with little time for briefings.  He’d have to meet them as he could.  He sighed, “Inform the senior staff we need department reports in the next two hours and readiness reports included.”  Sitting in the chair, he wasn’t sure how to feel about the rushed nature of this mission.  There would be only one way to find out.

Captain Fontana left sick bay and headed straight for the science department.  The basic tenants of command were to know your crew and for them to know you – trust was built in that two-step process.  He was lagging with the quick assignment but was bound and determined to make up for lost time as best as possible.  One of Fontana’s mottos was, ‘Never Give Up, Never Surrender,’ and he intended to live that way until the day he died.  He soon stood outside the science office and tapped the door chime.

There was some comfort in knowing that the Captain was as new as she was, or so Dr. Senja Solberg thought as she endeavoured to familiarise and organise her new department. She had sorted through personnel files, understood who had what specialisation, and had begun to take in any active projects the department was running. As the ship was between missions this wasn’t many, but there was some ongoing research. The Lieutenant made notes on a PADD next to the terminal on her desk of what to read up on to make sure she understood all of the facets of this continuing work. Those relating to Physics needed extra attention, largely because Senja was a geneticist by trade. This gave her a good knowledge of biology and chemistry, but the movements of objects larger than cells, especially of the stellar variety, were more alien to her.

The ship had new orders. From the little Senja had seen so far, it seemed like a diplomatic mission. She had inferred that therefore there wouldn’t be too much for sciences to do. Her head raised from the terminal as the door chime to the office sounded.

“Come,” she said, standing as she saw the new Captain’s form appear in the doorway.

Fontana acknowledged her stance of attention, “As you were, Lieutenant Solberg.  He slid into the chair opposite her desk; “we’re being sent on a diplomatic mission between two warring planets.”  He pulled out his PADD, ”I’ve asked for a detailed report from Starfleet Diplomatic Operations and Intelligence…they’re still working on it.”  He scrolled through what he had received, “There is something that will require your attention.”  He handed over the PADD, “There are some unusual physiological traits that are prevalent in both groups of people.  Not much study has been done on it, and given the ongoing conflicts, we could never send a team.”  He sat back in the chair, “You’re the team.”

Senja took the PADD with a pale hand, being very careful in her movements as not to risk touching bare skin and sat back down. She looked the data over quickly. “I wonder if a shared physiological attribute could help diplomatically…” she suggested, her musing intoned in a soft voice that was all sweetness and gentility. “But then, history tells us shared attributes are overwrought by tribal differences if beings wish to hate each other enough. I shall investigate.” Her black eyes lifted from the PADD to rest on the Captain after a moment’s thought.

“Is there any opportunity for samples of genetic material?”

As a doctor, Fontana understood the question. “That is part of what we’re going to see about negotiating.”  He sat back in the chair. “I’m sorry you were thrown into this command so quickly. We’re going to have to get to know each other as we go. What should I know about you that’ll help us work together better?”

“Hmm…” Senja gave the question a moment’s thought. 

“Well. My name is pronounced Sen-ya, not Sen-ja. The Norwegian origin, as opposed to the Meitei. Scandinavian adaptation of Ksenia or Xenia, ultimately from the ancient Greek meaning ‘hospitable,’” Senja explained, ever the scientist. “More importantly, perhaps for work purposes, I am a touch telepath, stronger than a Vulcan due to part-Betazoid genetics. Therefore, I eschew all physical contact, and I advise others to do the same unless they wish me to know what they did in the mirror naked the night before. An example I offer because it has happened once and usually is memorable enough to illicit an adequate level of vigilance from my peers.” Senja said this with a smile, showing she did express emotion, that bringing her to her next offering.

“Speaking further of makeup, I am half Vulcan, but I do not observe most Vulcan rituals and practices, largely because they are not necessary for me to maintain equilibrium, thanks to the aforementioned Betazoid characteristics, which are more dominant than one might expect from being one-quarter Betazoid, but such is the nature of genetics. That is my field of speciality as I suspect you know. My weak point could be considered to be astrophysics; as such, I have made a point of intensive study since becoming a department head, although a specialist officer would eclipse my ability there. Is that… the kind of information  you wished to know?”

Fontana resisted the urge to smile at or even remark about her Vulcan response.  Instead, he finished making the notes on his PADD, “That is plenty to start with, Lieutenant Solberg.  We’ll be arriving in the system in the next few hours – we’re all going to be working on finding a way to keep the peace between the two sides.”  He stood, “I’ll leave you to your prep work.  I look forward to seeing you in action, Lieutenant.”  He departed back out the way he came.

Senja perked an eyebrow as she watched him leave. Obviously, a busy man, she thought to herself. She hoped to be able to get to know him a little better when time permitted and that she hadn’t waffled on too much. For now, she kept hold of the new PADD he had given her and started to read, her curiosity piqued by the prospect of the genetic research held therein.

Drexulon Aleta slammed his fist on the table, and his counselors were startled, “I cannot accept this continued peace.  We know they are rearming and just waiting for the right reason to attack us and break their promise.”  He was young, having replaced the elderly planet president in a landslide election six months ago.  Peace had started to feel like an option under the idiot, and he’d forcefully run a campaign with the idea that he wouldn’t give up the fight.  That the Maranatha people were never going to stop trying to kill them and wipe them from the planet. It had worked, mostly.  The legislature and judicial returns had been a mixed bag – a split nearly between the two parties.  He had hoped to gather more power.

“Mr. President,” the minority leader stood from his end of the table. “The Federation will be here in a day’s time. Must we try to squeeze out more malice into the cups of possibility?”  Aleta hated the man, and his moderate views frustrated him.  Many people could see what was coming if they didn’t put the enemy in their place.  Why couldn’t he?  If only he could do with the idiot what his forefathers would have done.  He reminded himself to keep his face from showing his feelings.

“The malice from the Maranathas was already in the cup. I’m simply stirring what is already in a position to poison us.”  He held his tongue as the rest of his invective threatened to spill out. He practiced his calming skills. He said, “I will yield to the Minority Leader on this matter. We will wait for the Federation to try to solve this age-old problem with words. May the odds be ever in their favor.”

The group disbanded, and he was soon alone with the Majority Leader, who eyed him curiously, “You don’t often yield, Mr. President.  I can count on two hands when you’ve said those words.”

Aleta grumbled, “He’s right, and I nearly tried to run him over.  I don’t have much faith in the Federation being able to manage this disaster.  They will fail, and then we can get to the business of defeating the Maranatha people once and for all…treaty be dammed.”

Fontana had managed to work on the bridge shift schedules with the help of his yeoman. He was making his way through the roster of his command team, getting familiar with the dossiers before he had to start meeting them. It wasn’t that he was out of practice; it was that he hadn’t practiced lately.  He handed the CONN to the next senior officer on the bridge and went to the turbolift, his destination sickbay.

Alcyone Brennan was excited. The approval of her transfer request had come weeks after she had applied for the position of Chief Medical Officer, and when no response had come, she had been worried that she wasn’t even worth a reply. Which, so her friends had assured her, was nonsense. Brennan had still kept her expectations low, which made for all the more joy when her request was accepted. Her arrival on the Valkyrie had been far from ideal – there was barely any time to get up-to-date with their current mission, and even less time to familiarise herself with sickbay. But then, those were circumstances she had already gotten used to. After all, it was never ideal when someone needed medical assistance, and a doctor’s job required quick thinking and the ability to adjust to new situations in the blink of an eye. So she was trying to make the best out of the situation, and now took the time to acquaint herself with the doctors and nurses she would be working with, making sure to draw on their experience as much as supporting them in their goals and with their current challenges. 

There was only one thing she hadn’t managed thus far – actually introducing herself to the new Captain. He, too, had arrived in the same (somewhat messy) circumstances, and their schedules hadn’t aligned until now. Brennan let her ACMO know that she would be gone, but available via comms if anything needed her immediate attention, and headed to the door – just to have it hiss open, and reveal Captain Fontana.

He met the surprised look of his Chief Medical Officer, “Commander Brennan – I was coming to see you.  Can we talk in your office?”

“Of course.”, Brennan said, and turned. Under the watchful gaze of the individuals she had joked with just a few moments ago, she led the Captain through sickbay and into her office. An office which she very clearly didn’t have the chance to decorate yet. Or perhaps she simply liked to keep her work environment as impersonal as possible. 

Probably the former. 

He followed her and accepted the offered seat, “We don’t have a lot of time, and I wanted to put a name to a face at least before we find ourselves in the middle of…whatever this ends up being.  Given your record, I’m glad to have you onboard.  Do you need anything here in Sickbay?”

“Not from what I could see at the moment.”, she said quietly, then reminded herself that she was CMO here, and that a little more confidence was appropriate. “Is there anything you know of that I should pay extra attention to? I think we’ve been arranging quite well so far. And I’m happy to be here, Lieutenant Sh’shiquil was saying she would show me the ship if time permits it. Then again, I am guessing you haven’t seen terribly much of it either?”, Brennan asked. She had been reading his service record, and she had countless of questions – though since they were about things that didn’t really matter right now, she kept them to herself. 

Fontana made some notes on his PADD, “We’re talking into a fragile peace, and you know as well as I do what happens to fragile things.  We will need to be ready to respond medically to any aggressive developments on either side.  They will be side-eyeing us the moment we show up, and I’d rather give a show of good faith and good actions to keep their faith in us at a stable balance.”  He noted, “I’ve got a list of auxiliary medical officers they’ve assigned us in other departments.  Don’t hesitate to pull them.”  He closed the PADD down, “Any questions I can answer?”

Well that was certainly to the point, and in line with I don’t have much time. “Is there either plan to collaborate with either side?”, she asked, frowning as she tried to wrap her head around what such collaboration would look like. But, medically speaking, it would be valuable. There were cultural and genetic intricacies they had no chance of honouring sufficiently without help. Over the course of her career, that had been a problem more than once and one she would like to avoid now that she had the power to do so.  

“That makes sense.”, she agreed. “I would want to avoid the impression that we are taking sides – from a medical point of view. I’ve learned that small errors can be easily misinterpreted, even if the patient outcome is positive.”  

Fontana stood, “I’ve found in my career that medical is the great equalizer if we do it well.  It’s a delicate path to walk.  I’m envious of you, in some ways.  I never got to be a doctor on a ship like this.”

Alcyone, too, stood and inclined her head. “I will make sure to keep a spot open for you when you desire a break from your centre-chair.”

Geronimo smiled a quiet and sly smile, “Don’t tempt me, Doctor Brennan,”

He left the science office, and the list of officers he needed to meet grew smaller.  The ship was but a few hours from their mission.  The next dossier gave him pause.  It was a heavy read.  Walking down the corridor in the direction of the operations office left him with more questions than answers.  He hadn’t had a hand in screening or choosing any of his current command team.  The previous captain had abruptly resigned, and Starfleet pulled him in.

He stopped outside the door, the dossier open on his PADD.  He tapped the door chime,

Before heading back to her quarters, Hilea checked into her office. Signing into her console, she started setting up and importing all her preferences. Decorations would have to wait. Communiques wouldn’t always be kind to holding off; retrieving a pitcher of red-leaf tea from the replicator, Hilea dug into the growing list of demands. “Computer, play some Keiko Matsui, volume 30%.” The light mix of piano and sax wafted through the room. The walls were still bare. That would have to wait until she unpacked her plants later. 

Her life since the Romulan Star Empire seemed a thousand years ago, and yet the brand below her left collarbone reminded her all too often that it was merely twenty-odd months ago. Life, as she well knew, could change instantly. As she dove into the rush of finishing the refit, luckily, her last posting was doing just that to starships; she was in her element and coordinating with Engineering, Medical, and Security to be the ringmaster of the upcoming mission to ensure everything ran smoothly. The door chime sounded, and Hilea replied, “Enter.” She was surprised to see the Captain walk in. So much had changed, but it wasn’t the first time she had witnessed a mad rush for a Commanding Officer. She was not prepared for that to have been her fate.“Captain. What can I help you with?” She said as she got to her feet. “Can I get you something? The tea is a bit too caffeinated for humans.” 

Fontana chuckled, “Humans and caffeine…such a complicated relationship.  I’m more of a coffee man, myself.”  He sat in a nearby chair and accepted the offered coffee. “I’m working through the senior staff, given the speed at which this assignment and mission developed.”  He pulled out a PADD and handed the mission briefing, such as it was, over to her, “We don’t have a lot of background information – I’ve got requests to both diplomatic operations and intelligence to shake loose something that’ll help us when we arrive.  You’ve got the more challenging job – quickly figuring out what we need.”  He nodded to the PADD, “We’ve got an additional wrinkle – the Federation station is in the mix – I’ll be leaning on you to help with that piece.

Time to read the new Captain’s bio hadn’t materialized, so Hilea went with humor. It was something many humans appreciated. “Well Sir, vague and challenging at the same time. How can I resist?” She replied, adding a smile at the end. She added, “Liason is a specialty, Captain. As I read somewhere, the only easy day was yesterday. After 2 years in refits, the task won’t be an issue.”

Geronimo cracked a smile, appreciating the humor.  “Having been where I’ve been before, that’s a reference I understand.  I’m working on partnering up senior staff when we arrive – we’re better spread out in teams then one big group moving together.”  He scanned the roster, “Any objection to working with security?”

“Security in most cultures tend to be underfoot rather than helpful, but no Sir, no objections. Please note that I have been known to start a detail if activity levels drop. While tolerance is something I have in abundance, Sir, sloth and ignorance tend to raise my Fire. Something my mother always warned me about.” The inflection for Fire Hilea used was one of near reverence.

Fontana added those notes to the PADD, “We’re all going to be working on the fly to build relationships with each other – senior staff, departments, and crew.  We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us and plenty of unknowns in the mix.”  He stood, “I’ll leave you to your work, Commander t’Rehu.”

“Thank you, Sir. I will get started.” Hilea replied. Seeing that the Captain had dismissed her, she started constructing one of many trackers she would need to build on the console.

“You have a diplomatic officer still to go, sir.”  The Yeoman stood in his ready room, her PADD full of crossed-off names, details, to-dos, and reports still needed from some of the senior staff.

Captain Fontana glanced over his list.  He’d somehow missed him in the rapid-fire meet-and-greets.  “I’m supposing you’ve got him on his way already?”  Sera Flushing had proven to be an excellent choice for the posting in the opening hours of his assignment to the Valkyrie.

“You would be correct, sir.”

He gave her a nod of thanks, “Thank you for your help today, Yeoman Flushing.”  She stood at attention and returned to the bridge and her work.  Moments later, the door chime rang.

Christopher Annan was on his way to the commanding officer’s ready room. Thinking about it, he thought, “Indeed, I am lucky in a certain way. I was assigned to a sovereign-class starship on my very second posting with Starfleet after being promoted to Lieutenant Junior Grade at Starbase 10 with orders to be reassigned to USS Valkyrie.” 

He was both excited and nervous about meeting the commanding officer so early, just after he stepped off the transporter pad. Arriving at the door, Christopher inhaled a deep breath, and the door to the ready room chimed. He walked in.

Fontana glanced up, “Enter.”  The door flew open and the young officer entered.  He gestured to the chair before him, “Have a seat.  Welcome aboard the Valkyrie.”  He picked up a PADD, “You’re my last assignment of the day, Lieutenant Annan.  You will be front and center when we arrive at our destination.  How are you feeling about it?:

”I’ll be honest, sir. I am both excited and nervous at the same time, but with all the diplomatic work that needs to be done meticulously, or else relations could fall apart, it’s tricky. But I am confident that I was properly trained for this type of situation from the academy and from my last posting,” said Annan, with a worried smile.

The CO made some notes on his PADD, “Considering we’re jumping into this situation rather quickly, I share the excitement and nerves.  I’ll be working with you closely – having spent some time in Task Force Command with 72, we were heavy on the diplomatic front.”  He had one last question, “Anything you need before we arrive at the system?”

”No, sir. Just need a clear state of consciousness and mind that’s all. I hope everything does go according to plan.” replied Annan.

Fontana chuckled wryly, “From your lips to both sides, Lieutenant. I’ll let you get back to your work.”  He stood and headed for the door. He stopped as the door slid open, turning back to face his newest staff member. “I’m glad to have you aboard,” he said.

”Glad to be here, Captain. I sure do hope everything does go according to plan with all the diplomatic intricacies happening all through out.” responded Annan with a slight worrisome look.

The captain left the office and headed back to the bridge.

Fontana continued on his mission to meet each department head as quickly as he could before they reached the system. He was making progress, but it wasn’t the way he wanted.  He’d have preferred a lazy day in the docks working with each of them in groups.  There was a chance for the team to grow together a little more.  They had to do everything quickly with little care for the details.  It was the best they could do.  He rounded a corner and nearly collided with someone.  “Sorry…”  he recognized her face from his files.  “Lieutenant Kazansky, I was just coming to see you.”

Lieutenant Taylor Kazansky was still settling into her new role as Chief Security and Tactical Officer aboard the USS Valkyrie. It was a step up in her career, particularly running her own department and serving aboard a Sovereign-class starship. These were the kinds of ships that were sent to take care of things when Starfleet’s backs were up against the wall, and the other ships didn’t know where to turn. As such, she knew that things were going to be moving fast and that there might not be the time to adapt that she was used to on more sedate postings. 

Colliding with Geronimo Fontana, who was even newer to the ship than she was, was a bit mortifying. One did not want to start off with a new commanding officer by basically body-checking them like they were your opponent in an old Earth ice hockey match. 

“Well, it’s ah… good you ran into me,” Kazansky said, doing her best not to be too cute with the wordplay.

Geronimo picked up his PADD and chuckled, “I see what you did there, Lieutenant Kazansky; I like it.”  He glanced around the corridor, “There’s a conference room just there – let’s step into an office at least.”

Kazansky fell in line, following the CO into the conference room.

He slipped into the center chair and offered the chair on the corner of the long table, “I’m sure it’s been a warp speed whirlwind getting onboard and getting your hands around your new department.”  He slid over the PADD, “I feel you’re going to be busy the moment we arrive.  The two planets are being held under the treaty by a thin paper that they would both happily light on fire.”  He added as she read, “We’ve got a small Federation station in the area to help us, but there’s going to be a lot of moving parts.  That’s where you and your team come in,”

“I understand, sir,” she said, nodding, then clearing her throat. Kazansky pointed out, “As you likely know, I’ve just joined the ship. I’m not familiar with my whole team yet. I assure you we’ll do our part. I just wanted to let you know that I don’t yet know all their competencies. Is there anything else you’d be needing from security on this?”

Fontana shrugged with concern, “We know that things are tense, and plenty of things are being said and muttered about…but details are light.  You’re going to be busy making sure our teams are safe, but you’re also going to have to make sure your officers are aware of how much we have to keep away from showing deference to either side of this conflict.  They might get to thinking having a Sovereign-class starship would be a good ally in this thing.  We’re going to be feeling and listening our way through this thing.  Not my preference…but we’re in it.”  He turned the question back, “What can I do for you?”

Kazansky nodded, not quite sure how to respond to having the question turned back on her. She was used to a more formal type of command structure the ‘do as I say and ask how high when I tell you to jump’ sort.  She wanted to have something intelligent to say but couldn’t think of anything, “I don’t believe there’s anything at this time. Obviously as the situation evolves I’ll may have more needs… requirements I mean.”

She nodded, hoping that sounded like she was on the ball.

Fontana understood.  They were all getting thrown into the mix without much time to grasp anything.  He tapped at his PADD, “I have to ask – before you followed down the security path, you were a pilot – what changed your mind?  I’ve known my share of pilots and flight control officers…it’s hard to shake that urge to get behind the console.”  He said it with a smile, hoping she felt he was being less interrogational and more interested in her as a part of his senior staff.

Kazansky shrugged, “Most of my career has been in security. Everyone wants to fly and to be the next Tom Paris or Neil Armstrong. Security offered more career growth. I passed my flight courses but I haven’t flown in a long time sir. I wouldn’t throw it to me unless there was no other option.”

She assumed he had pilots out of the wazoo.

He stood, “I’ll keep that in mind, Lieutenant.  I’ll leave you to it.”  He headed out the door, a small smile on his face.  Once a pilot, always a pilot.

Captain Fontana sat at his ready-room desk. The clock continued to count down to their arrival at Deep Space 419. He’d done a quick review of the station’s commanding officer. She was an interesting case of the intersection of talent and challenge. That she had been placed in command of the station was one thing, but she had now found herself amid a complex diplomatic scenario. He tapped his console, and the hailing frequency opened.  

Astrid had been sent to the station as punishment for her hotheaded nature and the way she treated command would be considered as insubordinate to most, but in her case somehow she has still made it through her Starfleet career. The diplomatic nightmare that had opened up was not something she had encountered and she had asked for support from the Federation. It was to her surprise that they had dispatched a ship to the station. 

She saw the request for comms to open and acknowledged it seeing it was the Captain of the ship coming to the station.

The screen turned to the face of the commander, Commander Astrid Fleming.  He greeted her, “Commander.  Captain Geronimo Fontana of the Valkyrie.  We’re about an hour away from the system.  I’ve forwarded my crew dossiers for your review.  What’s your read on the situation?”

“It is nice to meet you, Captain.” Astrid shook her head. “Nothing too major as of this moment. I have been getting reports of some minor protests, but nothing that has escalated too much. It seems currently they are content to just cause some minor protest, but if things keep going, it could get much worse. The communication networks haven’t seen any issues, and everything there has been normal.

Fontana mused, “I know your station is the first real presence Starfleet’s had in a long while…how do they feel about you and our crew?”

Astrid thought for a moment, “All indications have shown they are ok with us, but sometimes the outside of the situation is deceiving.”

Geronimo could understand that.  The Federation was still a sterling example of the better way to do things in the universe.  There were parts that had let down entire sectors and swaths of people.  Whatever they did here, they needed to make a lasting impression and investment.  “Let’s hope that holds.  What can we help you with, Commander?  You’ve got a small crew with a small station – can we help you with anything?”

Astrid nodded “If you could come to the station I could use some assistance the replicators have not been working properly and my engineers have been trying to get this resolved. Perhaps a fresh set of eyes would help.”

Fontana noted on his PADD, “We’ll start a list.”  He glanced at his clock, “We’ll be there in good time.  I’ve still got some work to do here, Commander.  We’ll see you shortly.”  He tapped the channel closed and sat back in his chair.  There was still much to learn and prepare for – whatever it was that would face them on arrival.

Captain Fontana walked slowly down the hallway outside Main Engineering.  His reticence had everything to do with someone else in another life.  He reflected on the lost of Ambrose Harris and his history with the captain.  Ambrose had been an engineer at heart from his past before he was placed in command.  Geronimo knew he’d have to enter those doors eventually.  He wasn’t used to feeling the resistance in his feet, but the feelings remained.  He took a deep breath and entered the room, making his way to the Chief Engineer’s office where he knocked at the side of the door.

Lieutenant Commander Lorra eased into the worn leather chair, her fingertips tracing the grooves left by years of use. The Chief Engineer’s office, now her sanctum, enveloped her in a cocoon of memories. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to be transported back a mere few months ago.

The USS Valkyrie loomed large in her mind’s eye, its sleek lines and formidable presence captivating her from the start. As the assigned lead for its refit project, she had immersed herself in every detail, her passion for the magnificent Sovereign-class vessel growing with each passing day.

Her reverie was abruptly shattered by a sharp rap on the door. Startled, her eyes snapped open to find a figure standing in the doorway. It was him – Captain Fontana. Lorra’s heart skipped a beat as she hastily rose from her seat, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Cap… Captain Fontana, sir!” Her voice betrayed her astonishment as she struggled to maintain composure. She cleared her throat before continuing, “What brings you to this corner of the ship?”

Fontana smiled, hoping it soothed some of her nerves, “You do, Commander Lorra – I’m working my way around the Valkyrie to put faces to names with the senior staff.”  He leaned into the doorway, “Wanted to make sure you had everything you need.”

“Me? Oh…” Niala replied, her voice trailing off as she tore her gaze away from the scattered pile of PADDs cluttering her desk. The dim lighting in her cramped office cast elongated shadows across the disarray, emphasizing the chaos she faced daily. Fingers drumming lightly on the edge of the desk, she hesitated, a subtle frown creasing her brow.

Her eyes flickered back to the stack, each PADD representing a task left unattended, a problem yet to be solved. With a sigh, she began to speak, her tone tinged with a hint of weariness. “Well, sir, since you’re asking… we’re severely short-staffed. Despite the ship being in peak condition, Logistics has made a mess of our spare parts inventory. It’s like finding a needle in a haystack. And if we were to face a crisis now…” She paused, her gaze returning to the desk, her mind running through the potential consequences. “…it could spell disaster. We’d be scrambling to patch things up, and that’s not a position I’d like us to be in.”

Fontana pulled out his pad and took notes as she listed her issues.  It wasn’t a great picture, and he felt his righteous indignation flaring in his gut.  He asked, “Can you get me an approximate list of your deficiencies within the hour?  I’ve got some contacts from my days in Task Force command.  I’m not a fan of facing crises without our needs being met.  As for the short staff…,” he thought for a moment, “I’ll see what I can do.  Frontier Day is part of our problem.”  He made several more notes and looked around her office, “You want this office bigger?  I know a guy who can make that happen.”

Niala hesitated, her gaze drifting past the neatly arranged desks and bustling activity of the office. “Bigger? uh no, thank you,” she murmured, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of her console. “I’m still not used to being in an office anyway.” Her voice trailed off, a wistful tone creeping into her words. “I’ve always considered the Jeffries tubes more like my office.” There was a pause as she glanced up, meeting the Captain’s eyes. Gratitude flickered in her expression before she added softly, “Thank you, sir.”

Geronimo caught the flicker of feeling her in her look and smiled warmly, “I’ve known my share of engineers, Commander Lorra.  Offices are not their natural habitats.  There’s a balance to being a department head – your part administrator and manager…and your part as one of the officers charged with the responsibility of maintaining the professional level of the department.”  He stood, “I was a chief medical officer before all this…and that office can sometimes feel isolating as if you’re cut off from everything you loved before you stepped into senior staff.  Don’t be afraid to leave this office and work with your people.”  He nodded at the PADDs filled with reports, “Make time for the paperwork…but don’t let it become all of your time.”

As the Captain left the room, Niala’s gaze lingered on the doorway for a moment before she turned to the ‘paperwork’ spread out before her. With a slight furrow of her brow, she picked up a PADD, the cool metal feeling solid in her hand. Leaning in, she began to scrutinize the files, her focus absolute as she delved into the task at hand.

Fontana charged out of the transporter room, having ordered his XO to action.  He tapped his badge again, “Fontana to t’Rehu and Kazansky – meet me on the bridge.  We’ve got a situation that’s developed planetside.  Put your department teams on alert – we will be sending down plenty of teams to support.”

Lieutenant Taylor Kazansky glanced at her team in the Security Office. She had already briefed them with as much information as she knew at the time. Once she had given the staff the heads up, she left for the bridge and took the turbolift there.

Hilea had her team ready to go. It was different as operations teams were usually always on the go. It allowed her to coordinate all the efforts from her office or the bridge. Anything priority 1 went straight to her to deal with if she needed to source the issue locally. Grabbing her tool kit and accessories, she headed to the bridge from her office. 

He jogged to a turbolift and rode it silently to the bridge, his mind whirling with every element that was now in play.  They needed to move, and they needed to move quickly.  He stepped out onto the bridge, accepting the CONN from a junior officer, “Have our diplomatic officer report to the bridge. Get me a threat report and the status of all ships in the area.” The officers went to work.  He turned as the doors opened, revealing his Security and Operations department heads.

“Teams are assembling as ordered,” Kazansky said, “We also have teams back aboard the ship stepping up patrols around the ship, just in case.”

Arriving on the bridge, Hilea relieved the crew manning the operations console. Running her hands over the console in an efficient, practiced manner, she updated status levels for the Valkryie and nearby assets. “Green lights across the board, Captain.”

Lieutenant Kazansky added, “Give the word, and security teams will deploy to the station.”

Fontana took a moment to say, “Focus our teams on the planet. You’re going to be going in blind. I was a doctor before I was a captain, so I’ll ask you to make the best decisions with the unknown. We don’t know if the attackers are still in play or if more is coming.  Secure, protect, and investigate – and in that order as much as possible.”

Nodding Kazansky knew the quick calls to make to reallocate the security teams along those lines. The fact that the attackers may still be present, or somewhere nearby heightened the stakes a bit, but she had confidence that the teams could handle that. She said briskly, “Yes sir.”

Hilea t’Rehu’s team had the arguably harder task. Yes, securing and protecting was paramount, but she found that typically, things needed to be repaired or upgraded to function effectively in a crisis like this. She wasn’t anxious. A long-time combat veteran, she liked the challenge of figuring things, but it far easier if no one shoots at you. 

Fontana nearly jumped off the transporter pad, followed by his XO as he tapped his badge, “Fontana to sickbay – we’ve had a mass casualty event on the planet below.  We need an emergency triage response.  We’re alerting all transporter rooms to activate and staff.”

“On it,” replied Brennan and rushed into her office in sickbay. That she had ample experience and that they were well-prepared were facts her nervous system didn’t quite seem to register. Her heart began pounding as adrenaline flooded her cells, and her hands were shaking until she balled them into fists and willed her body to at least pretend to be calm.  “Captain, standby medical teams will be en route in three minutes,” she relayed swiftly, her fingers flying over her desk console to coordinate resources. “I need every available detail on what happened. Any information on injuries or environmental hazards would be crucial for our response.” 

Fontana handed Ren a PADD.  “Get with engineering – move and shake as you need.”

“On it,” said Ren, taking the PADD.  He hurried off to engineering to see the CEO.

The CO turned his attention back to his chief medical officer’s voice in his badge, “We’re still getting details – some kind of explosion – a large one.”  His Yeoman, Ensign Flushing, slipped through the door as the XO left and handed him a PADD, “Significant injured, several casualties being reported by the limited staff on the ground – we’ve got some station staff mixed in with the citizens.  Security will be headed down straight after you.”

“Understood, Captain. I’ll prepare for the worst. Medical teams are just about ready for deployment upon your signal.” She quickly glanced at her team, having previously divided them into three groups according to their skills and level of experience. She hadn’t thought that something like this would actually be needed, but apparently, preparedness did pay off. Medics and nurses moved swiftly, readying supplies and equipment as Brennan prepared herself mentally for what lay ahead. “Let’s get going. We got this.”, she said, maybe just as much to herself as to the other medical staff.

Fontana gave her the order, “The signal is given – I’ll be on the bridge coordinating the response.”  He closed the channel.  The mission had never been straightforward, but it had become more challenging in mere moments.

“Captain, this came through.”  Yeoman Sera Flushing handed him a PADD with a new assignment.  “Starfleet found an Executive Officer.”

Fontana sat up from the couch in his ready room, looking over the details.  “He’s got a good service jacket.  His story is interesting.”  She nodded as he read, “Looks like he found his true calling in Starfleet.”  He returned the PADD, “He’s waiting for us on Deep Space 419?”  Another nod.  “Well, send an advance message with the briefing – we’ll need to get him up to speed as soon as possible.”

On Deep Space 419, Ren was in one of the many eating establishments on the base, waiting for the Valkyrie to arrive.  He had spent his entire career on one ship, so it wasn’t easy to take a new assignment, even with a promotion to XO.  There were the adventures and experiences.  The friendships.  Home.  Change was a part of life.

“Excuse me, Commander Trell?”

“Yes, Ensign?”  Ren was expecting someone would find him once his new ship arrived.

“Captain Fontana needs you to meet him in the main transporter room.  I can escort you there, sir.”

Ren nodded.  “Let’s go.”

He arrived in the main transporter room and waited until the operator began the process. While Captain Fontana was materializing, Ren waited patiently, his hands folded behind his back.  He expected to be nervous, but maybe that would come later.

The transporter faded away, and Fontana spotted his new XO.  He stepped down and extended his hand, “Commander Trell.  Captain Geronimo Fontana, Valkyrie.  I wish we had more time, but we’re running behind on this situation.    Commander Fleming is waiting for us in her office.”  He led the younger officer out the door and back into the corridor.  “You spent your career on the Satori… what kept you there so long?”

Shaking hands and following the captain, Ren thought about that for a moment.  Staying on a single ship wasn’t abnormal, but officers seeking an upward track through the ranks often accepted promotions and transfers.  “Well, sir, I suppose the best answer I can give is that’s where I was needed most.  It was where I could serve.”  This was a simple answer but an honest one.

Fontana appreciated the man’s straightforward reply, “There are days when I’m thankful for the simple parts of this job.  There aren’t many.”  As they walked, he shared his journey from medical to Task Force Command to returning to the chair.  “I never thought I’d be back on a ship flying around the universe.”  He turned to the new XO, “What’s your goal for the future?  A chair?  A desk?  Or something else?”

“I’d like to command my own ship one day,” said Ren, “but I’m in no rush to get one.  There’s still so much to do and see.”  Ren wrinkled his nose.  “I can’t see sitting behind a desk.”

Geronimo smiled, “After one day with the Valkyrie, I’m liable to agree with you.”  They had reached the door to the station commander’s office. He reached for the button when a klaxon sounded in the command center behind them. Fontana turned, “Report?”  The officer glanced at his rank pips.

“We’re getting reports from the planet of an attack on a city building… mass causality event.  Some of our operations team was down there for a meeting…”  The man’s eyes went distant.

The door to the office opened, and Commander Fleming stepped out.

Ren didn’t know the full story of the situation on the planet, so he was eager to hear the report.  He knew it was futile to think it wouldn’t be as bad as it sounded.  One could always hope.

Astrid looked at the officers in front of her and shook her head.  “As you can see, things have escalated on the planet surface.  The few ops teams that we do have are overwhelmed with other matters and I do not have the additional forces to deal with this incident.  I would appreciate any assistance in this matter, Captain.  As we discussed, the locals have been throwing some small revolts due to the presence on the planet, but this is the worst attack we have witnessed.” 

“That being said, we should make sure and get this taken care of.  Captain, I already formed the response with my teams, but with the little manpower I have left on the station, I can’t spare anymore to make sure the station can run smoothly.  I do know we need to respond to this.  Can we scramble teams from your ship?  I will take a team if needed as well.  I know this isn’t the usual etiquette, but I think talking can wait till this is taken care of.”  

Fontana gave a nod, “We’ll return to Valkyrie – I’ll coordinate the response with you from the bridge…I’ve got a new diplomatic officer…he’s going to get a front-row seat.”  He turned to the just-introduced XO.  “Commander, I’ll have you work with the engineering team planetside.”  He was about to lead him out when he sensed a statement coming from the XO.

Ren was about to say that he still wasn’t fully briefed on the situation, but he felt that wouldn’t make a good first impression.  It was his job as XO to find out what he didn’t know.  “Yes, sir.  I’ll handle it.”

Geronimo gave him a nod, “Let’s get back to Valkyrie.  We’re going to need to move fast.” 

“All set?”, asked Lieutenant Alcyone Brennan her ACMO, a petite Bajoran woman with ample experience as medical officer who would take over sickbay’s coordination while Brennan would assess the situation at the scene of the accident. The woman nodded her assent, and in turn, Brennan nodded at the officers who would accompany her. They really had to get going, and there wasn’t much time for introductory chats, but Brennan wasn’t unimpressed by how rapidly her team had managed to respond to the reported disaster. 

“Transporterroom three is ready for us.”, remarked one of the nurses Brennan couldn’t remember the name of, and knowing that their new CMO was new to the Valkyrie and not entirely at home here just yet, decided to lead the way. Though before they could leave sickbay, the door swished open, revealing a somewhat out-of-breath Andorian. 

“Zion.”, started the Andorian in her addressing of Brennan, and then quickly corrected herself into “Alcyone.” 

Brennan raised a very Vulcan eyebrow. 

“Eshrevi. We were just due to leave.” 

Perhaps the use of first names was deemed unprofessional, but right now nothing was further from her mind than worrying about people’s opinions. 

Brennan had dreamed about the day they would meet again, and prayed for the opportunity to transfer to the Valkyrie. Then the latter had come true, but somehow the mission didn’t come with spare time to reacquaint herself with Eshrevi Sh’shiqil. Both had wanted to wait until after the mission ended, and invite the other for dinner or something similarly romantic. Neither of them had expected their reunion to look like this. 

“That’s why I am here. I’m your security escort.”, explained Sh’shiqil. 

“We need Security?”, Brennan asked, feeling a little dumb because she hadn’t thought of requesting an escort herself. 

“We are fairly sure it was a targeted attack. There might be secondary explosions at the scene, or a follow-up.” She paused. “Or a counter attack. Better to have someone with you.”

“Agreed.”, nodded Brennan and shouldered her AFAK. “Let’s go.” 

Christopher Annan was walking down the corridors of the USS Valkyrie with his mind filled with thoughts on the upcoming mission. Annan, being a diplomatic officer, would have to face front and centre with the delegates and the delegation in the event of a diplomatic engagement. “How am I supposed to do this?” He asked himself silently, worried about the mission.

The ship’s Chief Science Officer was also on the move, headed from the labs back to her quarters. Her mind was on the ever joyous process of deciding what she was going to eat for her upcoming meal. The Geneticist mused on how regularly she ate curries and how when her husband had been alive she had had a more varied diet. But she did so love the curries, and why vary things when she was happy?

Senja made a quick side-step to avoid another officer coming around a corner whose head was in a PADD. But the angle of her vision was such that the officer managed to completely mask the presence of Christopher. Senja tried to avoid him too but her correction came too late and her hand brushed his as she stopped abruptly.

Bumping into another officer, Christopher was quick to start apologizing. “Apologies, apologies.” Looking at who he had bumped into, Annan was in disbelief as he bumped into the Chief Science Officer, Senja Solberg. “Apologies, Commander; I wasn’t looking at where I was heading.”

Senja felt a flash of worry from the man, and it wasn’t just about their collision. He had concerns about something else coming up, but the touch was so brief, she couldn’t discern anything more detailed, not that she was trying.

“Oh! I am sorry,” she said quickly, smiling to remove any tension. “But I should mention I’m just a Lieutenant, not a Commander, at least for the moment.”

”You have my apologies then Lieutenant. I was preoccupied with my thoughts you see. I’m sure you are well aware of the upcoming mission with a diplomatic front? The science department is also of vital importance just as any other department on the Valkyrie.“ replied Annan.

“I know…” Senja said slightly hesitantly. “I felt that from you when we touched… I’m part Betazoid. It must be a lot of pressure for a diplomat, such a tense situation.”

“Uhh… Yeah I guess so. Even such that I’m just a diplomatic officer with limited rank privileges it’s a demanding job. Takes a toll on your career and mental health if anything does go wrong which hopefully hasn’t occurred yet.“ said Annan with mumbling a little. ”Anyways, how’s the science department going on this days, even if I’m an operations officer on the side I still do know my science you know.”

“Well enough, thank you,” Senja replied pleasantly. “I am still getting to know the department, reading up on the experiments and projects which are not my own speciality. All very complex as I’m sure you can imagine, but I trust my team to know and understand the minute intricacies and details of these things. If you will permit me an observation, a diplomatic officer you may be, but the captain and the senior staff will also be well versed in the art. We are a team, and you are not unsupported here.”

”I agree, I’m surprised as to even why I’ve been assigned to such a big ship just at the measly rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade but I am grateful for the opportunity that arose.“ commented Annan. “I’m sure the captain and the senior staff are already well versed in the intricate art of diplomacy much more than me but I am a willing learner after all.” 

“As I would hope we all are,” Senja responded cordially. “But I’m sure you have places to be. Good day, Lieutenant.” 

”As to you, Lieutenant.” replied Annan.

“Don’t spread out too much, I don’t want to lose sight of any of you.”, called Brennan once they had materialised planetside. The air was heavy with dust, and the ground littered with the debris of the collapsed building. There were first responders already getting to work, and local medical teams trying their best to triage the wounded. Brennan watched her team spread out, tricorders in hand, scanning for survivors underneath the rubble.Alcyone did the same. “This is….”, started Eshrevi, not finishing the sentence. “Not pretty.”, completed Brennan, giving a nod. “We will need support from the search and rescue teams, but I want to get an overview first.”Her tricorder beeped, indicating the fading life-signs of a local. “Over here.”, said Brennan, and Eshrevi followed to the spot the other woman indicated.  

Ike wasn’t sure if he was hearing shifting debris or something else, until he started hearing voices. The weight of items crushing his leg and torso made it impossible to yell. The best he could do was a soft whistle. A wet nose tested his face and a big mottled dog made contact, turned, and barked. Soon a handler came by. “Good job, Maggie. Sir. Help is on the way. Over here”. he said tapping his commbadge for a locator pin to pop up. He stayed until the medical team came around the corner to take over. 

“What do we have?”, asked Brennan upon her arrival, directing the question as much to the nearby handler as to her medical tricorder. And then she answered her question herself. “Middle-aged male, presenting with significant crush injuries to the lower extremities and torso,” Brennan reported, her voice steady as she analyzes the data streaming from her medical tricorder. “Vital signs are stable but elevated – there are indications of soft tissue damage – muscle and organ trauma. Neurological assessment shows no immediate signs of impairment.”Sh’shiqil in the meanwhile, quite unlike herself, turned her attention to the patient rather than the data. “What’s your name?”  Barely able to inhale, it took him a second to get out “Ike” though it sounded a bit like Ick.

“His name is Ick.”, said Eshrevi, who didn’t quite get that it was somewhat difficult to breathe when you had debris compressing your chest. “Doubt that.”, said Brennan, who did. “Okay, we will need an anti-grav unit or something similar. Can you get that?” “Yes, sir.”Wow, that felt strange. Giving her friend orders like that, but if this were a tactical situation, Brennan probably would defer to Sh’shiqil’s experience as well. While Eshrevi went in search of something they could use, Brennan kneeled down to….  Ick. “I’m Doctor Brennan, I’m with Starfleet. We will get the debris off your chest first, and then we will take care of the leg and beam you up to sickbay. You will feel something a little cold on the side of your neck. It’s a hypospray that enriches your blood with oxygen. It will still feel like you can’t breathe – that’s because your lungs can’t expand the way they are used to – but it will make sure your organs don’t suffer any damage from lack of oxygen.” She explained her steps, making sure that her patient knew what was happening. The one thing they really couldn’t afford was him panicking. “Ike nodded in appreciation and even managed a wane smile. The tension in his mind was still there, but there was some relief in knowing he wasn’t alone. It took him several seconds to draw in enough in the short micro-gulps as he motioned his head at Doctor Brennan. He couldn’t scream even if he wanted to, he tried. 

Eshrevi arrived with an antigrav unit, and worked on freeing the man from the rubble that compressed his chest and made it so difficult to breathe. Brennan, in the meanwhile, monitored his vital signs, which improved significantly once the load was lifted. 

“You should be able to breathe easier now.“, she let her patient know, placing a hand on his shoulder and at the same time administering pain medication. It made more sense now that the blood could circulate again. 

“The leg next?“, asked Esh, already moving to remove what kept it stuck. But Brennan stopped her. “Wait, let me take a look first.“ 

She didn’t want to say anything, not yet anyway, but blood circulation in said leg didn’t look well at all. “I know it’s hard to tell, but how long have you been stuck?“

Closing his eyes, he tried to concentrate on anything but the pain. “I…I couldn’t begin to tell you. An hour?” Ike said through gritted teeth and clenched hands. In a moment, he added, “What are you badly trying not to tell me?”

Brennan sighed. “There is something called crush-syndrome. When there is no blood flow to tissue, it becomes necrotic. Cells die, and as they die, toxins build. Now, since there is no blood flow, those toxins are staying in your leg, but once blood flow is re-established, it floods your whole system.”

They were looking at multi-organ-failure. And for a moment, Brennan simply sat down next to the man, considering whether to risk that or not. And what the alternative was….

“So since I am going to die, can I get a painkiller on top of the oxygen stuff from before?” Ike said point blank. “Not to piss off my doctor or anything, but while I have a high pain tolerance, I am at my limits.” Then he added. “You could use a tourniquet.”

“You could use a tourniquet.”, echoed Eshrevi, not very helpfully, and Brennan gave her a stern look, then turned her attention back to the man. She had already administered an analgesic once blood circulation had been reestablished, but there wasn’t really a point in arguing that she wasn’t entirely incompetent. Instead, she simply gave a nod and administered another dose. She just hoped that it didn’t cause the vital signs to tank again. 

“Okay… Eshrevi, clear us an emergency transport to the Valkyrie’s sickbay. We will do the tourniquet and lift the debris, and then immediately have to be beamed up.”

Sh’shiqil gave a nod, doing as she was told. 

“How is the pain now?”, Brennan asked the man. “Any improvement?” 

“Yes, thank you Doc…Doctor Brennan.” He corrected himself. “My name is Ike Jansen. Having a high pain tolerance seemed to come with an equally high tolerance for most medications. It’s handy, but severely annoying at times. My apologies for being snippy.” He even managed a wan smile. 

“Don’t worry about it, Ick.”, Brennan said, offering a smile. Eshrevi returned after successfully having cleared their transport, and gave her a nod. 

“Okay, let’s do this.”