ON

The USS Calgary had appeared on their long range scans the day before, about an hour before Lisald had gotten off shift. The appearance of the ship sent electric vibes through the ship; everyone aboard knew that once the supplies and additional crew were safely aboard, the Cygnus would head out to unexplored and largely uncharted space.

Long range scans had picked up space-faring ship signatures unlike anyone in the Federation had ever seen, precipitating First Contact directives being brushed up on, which the Captain, First Officer, Lisald and the Chief Science Officer had especially dove in on hard. For Lisald especially, this was a boon, as part of his Command Courses demanded he study for. What better reason than the actual thing?

As the Cygnus sped towards the Calgary, anticipation mounted. Now, this morning, the Calgary had finally entered short-range scans. Captain Stafford had given the order to Lisald before he retreated to his ready room that once they were in range, to slow to impulse and come up alongside the Calgary, ready to accept the supplies and start beaming aboard people that would be assigned permanently to the Cygnus, as well as transferring off several people that were going on to different things, or getting out of Starfleet altogether, as was such the case for three people, one from Security and two from Engineering.

“Dropping to impulse,” Chapman said from the Conn station.

“Thanks,” Lisald stated from the Ops position, next to her. The command seats were currently vacant, both the Captain and the First Officer in a meeting. “Thrusters at station keeping. Bring us alongside, and match their Z, Y and X vectors.”

“Got it,” Chapman said. Within moments, the colossal ship that was the Cygnus edged into position next to the equally colossal USS Calgary, an Ambassador-class starship.

Lisald tapped his commbadge. “Bridge to Shuttlebay 1 and 2, prepare for arriving shuttlecraft.”

=/\= Aye sir,=/\= came the reply, twice, once from each shuttlebay.

Lisald tapped his badge again. “Bridge Transporter Rooms 1, 2, 5 and 7, prepare for arriving crewmembers and guests,” he said, anticipating that maybe the Senior Officers from the Calgary would want to do a meet-and-greet with the Senior Officers of the Cygnus. While the Senior Officers of the Cygnus certainly did not have the fame and admiration that the Senior Officers of the Calgary did, it was still something to do to break up the monotony and drudgery that was space travel.

Within moments, all of the transporter chiefs of each transporter room had responded they were ready.

For the third time, Lisald tapped his commbadge. “Bridge to Cargo Bay 1, 2, 3 and 4, please prepare for arriving cargo.”

Again, all of the bays had complied. With that work done, Lisald tapped his badge for the final time. “Bridge to Captain Stafford and Commander Pope. We have rendezvoused with the Calgary and are taking on personnel and supplies.”

OFF
Lieutenant jg Lisald Vaat
Chief Operations Officer
USS Cygnus

“Captain, we are in position with the USS Cygnus,” said the First Officer, Commander Ellen Dawson. She was the Executive Officer of the USS Calgary.

“Very well,” Captain Leejan stated, Commanding Officer of the Calgary. He looked up at the ceiling, an old habit from his days when he first joined Starfleet, more than a hundred years ago, then looked back to the officer sitting in front of him, the spare chair opposite his desk in his ready room. “Captain, you and your officers are free to beam over at your convenience.  We will be here for two hours, 15 minutes beaming and shuttling supplies and materials over.” It wasn’t a precise measurement of time, but he had learned over his century of service that most of the time, people that were not Vulcan did not like to be given the amount of time down to the second something would take. They preferred generalization, which baffled him.

Captain Bane nodded.  “Thank you for you and your crews hospitality.  It has been nice to see another crew in action, and to see how another Captain commands. I’ll be taking some of these lessons to the Cygnus,” Plase said, smiling.

“Indeed,” was the simple reply from the Vulcan Captain. Inwardly, he thought that it was the natural course of action. “Fair thee well, Captain Bane.”

“And to you, sir.” With that, Bane left the Ready Room and headed for the nearest transporter room.

Several minutes later, he found himself on the USS Cygnus, having beamed over with 5 other people, all of which would go to either the Science Department or to Medical. Bane understood that in the current configuration, the Cygnus was set to the Sciences, which was fine by him. Making his way to the Bridge, he stepped onto it, finding neither the Captain nor the Executive Officer. He stepped to the Operations station and tapped the young man on the shoulder. “Where is your Captain?”

Lisald turned around and found himself looking at someone he had read about when he was still in school. His face hadn’t changed a bit. “Uh, Captain Stafford and Commander Pope are both in the Captains Ready Room, sir. Lisald noted that this Captain was holding two PADDs in his right hand. “Right in there, sir.”

“Very well.  Thank you Lieutenant. As you were.” Bane stepped over to the Ready Room and tapped the chime plate and awaited to be admitted. Behind his back, Lisald Vaat mouthed ‘Wow!’ to himself, having to spoke to Captain Bane first hand.  It was a good day.

Inside the Ready Room, Captain Stafford and Commander Pope had been discussing the finer points of First Contact when the chime interrupted them. Both knew the new personnel, as well as supplies and equipment were being beamed and shuttled over, so the chime was unexpected. They knew the crew would be working hard to get everything stowed and inventoried and all new people put in quarters and added to the duty rosters. Both looked to each other in confusion for the interruption. “Come,” Stafford said, putting the PADD down he was holding.  Pope turned in her chair to see who the interloper was.

Bane stepped into the Ready Room.  “Captain,” he said in way of greeting, then looked to Commander Pope. “Commander. I am here to relieve you both of your duties on the Cygnus,” he said flatly. “Your orders sir, Commander.” He held the PADDs out to them both.

Stafford, surprised, sat back in his chair. “Being relieved, you say? Why? Who are you?”

“I am Captain Bane Plase. I am not sure why Starfleet Command has decided now to relieve you of command, Captain. All I know is that you are to report to Starfleet Command in San Franscisco as soon as you are able to get back. The USS Calgary is scheduled to Betazed after they are finished here. I am sure you can get passage on another ship from there to Earth. As for you, Commander, you are being promoted.”

Helena stared at the screen on her PADD that Bane had given her, the transfer order required her near-immediate departure. The USS Calgary would be rendezvousing with the USS Denmark next week, she had less than 2 hours until she left what had become her home. She wasn’t happy about it, but she also knew she couldn’t fight it.

‘She wasn’t happy about it’ She realized the feeling was there despite getting what she wanted for years. Her own command.

The USS Denmark had been undergoing repairs when EPS relay on the bridge ruptured, the ruptured caused a breach in the deck, emergency forcefields weren’t fast enough and the ship lost its Captain and First Officer. With both officers killed and a relatively green senior staff, a new command team was being brought in. Helena was sure her mother had some role in this, but at the end of the day she was a Starfleet officer and she would serve where they sent her.

She expected she would have been more excited, but she hadn’t realized that she had settled in as much as she had. She had started assuming that at some point in the near future Stafford would likely be promoted and she would take command of the Cygnus, she had wanted the Cygnus to be her first command. Starfleet had other ideas, the Denmark was a good ship.

The Argonaut-class ship had also been refit with the latest engines designs which got its cruise speed up to amongst the highest for ships their size. It had been the ship’s main drawback when compared to its Intrepid-class predecessor. She tapped a few commands and downloaded the briefing package that had been included to a PADD.

She had a lot to do and not much time to do it.

Stafford looked at his own orders. It said, “You are hereby requested and required to relinquish command of the USS Cygnus to Captain Bane Plase upon receipt of these orders and reports to Starfleet Command for new orders, herewithin classified Yankee White, at your earliest possible opportunity, using the USS Calgary as your first leg of travel to Headquarters Command.” Stafford looked up to Bane.  “Classified Yankee White? That is almost at the very top of the classifications,” he said.

“It is. I am curious what you will be doing, Captain,” Bane said.

“That makes two of us,” Stafford replied. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled heavily. He looked around his office…this office, he amended, and felt a strong pang of regret. He had grown to love the Cygnus, and thought of her as his home. He didn’t expect, in the slightest, to be reassigned so soon after taking command, and certainly not in the middle of a mission. “You know the mission we are on, Captain Bane?”

“I do sir.”

“Good.” Stafford looked at Pope, who was still going over her orders, then looked back to Bane. “Who will be your Executive Officer? There are no officers aboard the Cygnus with sufficient rank or command training,” he thought of Lisald, but he was too junior ranked, and still had not completed his extension course, “That can fill the spot.”

Plase pursed his lips. He was hoping there would be someone. “I guess I wont have one until Starfleet can get one assigned here. How is the rest of the senior staff?”

“As solid as they come. Your chief Medical Officer is Dr. Elodin. He is pretty devout to The Prophets, but an excellent doctor. In Security, you have Lieutenant Carson. I do not know much about him; he only came aboard at Deep Space 9 when we were on Shoreleave. In Operations, you have Lieutenant Lisald. He is a hard charger, eager and willing. In Engineering, you have Dr. Anna Cohen. She…”

Bane interrupted him. “Ah, she is being reassigned too.”

Stafford raised his eyebrows. “Command is really stripping you of all your key players on the ship, aren’t they. Well, we just got an Assistant Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Anderson, I believe. Like Carson, she is new to the ship. She actually brought us one of the Runabouts in the Shuttlebay. In Science, you have Ensign Albert Spangler. He is smart, exceedingly so, but he is a bit odd. Never could form a decent connection with him.”

Bane waited several moments, expecting Captain Stafford to keep speaking. When he didn’t, Bane spoke. “Thats it? Those are all the senior officers? You weren’t kidding about being stripped! Its like being on the west end of Larkarian City after dark.” Bane, Stafford and Pope all laughed a bit at the joke.

Stafford tapped his commbadge. “Stafford to Micca. Abrum, pack us bags. I’m being relieved of command and being sent to Earth.”

=/\= Oh, you’re funny, my dear husband. To what do I owe this pleasure in the middle of the day?=/\=

Stafford looked to Bane, then spoke again. “It isn’t a joke, Abrum. Captain Bane is standing here right now to assume command.

=/\= What?! This is ludicruous! Wait until I get my hands on those bast–=/\=

Stafford cut him off. “That is enough. Please, do as I ask. I will be there shortly to help. We will need to catch the USS Calgary and head back to Earth. Stafford out.” He tapped his commbadge off, then spoke again. “Computer, please transfer all command codes and functions to Captain Bane Plase as of this time and stardate, command authorization Stafford Epsilon 9-4-7 Delta Omega.”

The computer chirruped. “Command authorization approved. Captain Bane Plase, please input authorization code.”

“Computer, I accept command of the USS Cygnus, authorization Bane Bravo 9-9-0 Echo Alpha.”

The computer chirruped longer. “Command Authorization approved.  Command of the Starship Cygnus now under the command of Captain Bane Plase.”

Captain Bane held out his hand and shook Captain Stafford’s. “I relieve you, sir.”

Stafford nodded. “I stand relieved, sir.” He looked around again at his office…well, Bane’s office.  He would have to send for all of his belongings once he was on Earth.  Looking back at Bane, “Permission to disembark, sir?”

“Permission granted, sir,” Bane said in return.

Easy as that, Captain Bane was now in command.

OFF

A JP between:

Captain Stafford

Commander Pope

Captain Bane

Bane watched Captain Stafford and now-Captain Pope leave the Ready Room. He looked around for a moment, all of Captain Stafford’s belongings and mementos still adorning the desk, bulkheads and tables about the room and exhaled. Stepping around the desk, he sat down in his chair and looked at the computer. Captain Stafford had been going over First Contact procedures. It was a good idea, as they were expected to have First Contact with at least one civilization unknown to them in the coming months.

He read over the procedures and regulations himself for a few moments, before remembering that he had other tasks ahead of him before he got into the meat and potatoes of this mission. First and foremost, he would need to inform the crew of the change of command. Usually it was a big to-do ceremony, but with orders from Starfleet being so time sensitive, as well as the USS Calgary leaving in a very short time, there was no time to assemble the crew and do it properly. Plus, it was a major shock to Captain Stafford and Captain Pope that they were being reassigned.

“Attention All Hands,” Bane began. “This is Captain Bane Plase, your new Commanding Officer. Starfleet Command, in their infinite wisdom, has seen to promote Captain Stafford to a new post on Earth, and has promoted Commander Pope to Captain to assume command of the USS Mandrake, effective immediately. If you see them before they depart the ship, please be sure to congratulate them on their promotions. I know I am filling big shoes, and look forward to earning your trust and respect.

“As soon as we are finished taking on supplies, equipment and crew, we will be departing and headed for the mission you, that is we,” he corrected himself, “Were already on, to explore the area of space on the relative back side of Cardassian space, a section of space that has been closed off to exploration and study until now. Please brush up on your First Contact procedures, as it is likely we will need them.

“I will be making my rounds around the ship to visit and introduce myself to as many of you as possible, or calling you to the Captain’s Ready Room to meet with me.

“That is all. Please tend to your assigned duties and continue to serve in an exemplary manner to which the Crew of the Cygnus is widely known. I genuinely look forward to serving with each and every one of you. Captain Bane out.”

OFF

Bane Plase, Captain

USS Cygnus, Commanding

Stepping out of Sickbay feeling both accomplished and oddly uncomfortable, Captain Bane had finished his coming aboard physical and bio-information uploaded to the ships medical computer by the Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Elodin. Next on his agenda was to visit the Science Division and the ships Chief Science Officer, um….well, Bane couldn’t readily remember the name of the ships Chief Science Officer, but it made no matter. He would introduce himself and the Science Officer would introduce him or herself, and at that point Bane would have it committed to memory. The Main Science Lab was two decks down and clear on the opposite side of the ship. While Bane was 100% positive a turbolift could get him there in just moments, he wanted to use this time to make his way through the ship. What better way to learn it?

Several minutes later, his attention on the door that read “Supply Room: Operations,” he bumped into a person. “Oh, sorry about that,” he said, looking at the…the…the fox? in a teal uniform. Bane noticed several things right off the bat, other than this person being, well, a fox. First, that this cat was an Ensign, no, wait, a Lieutenant junior grade, and second, that this fox had not one, not two, but three (!) tails! “Uh, I mean to say, sorry about that, Lieutenant…” he said, trailing off, a custom that led to the receiving person telling their name.

“It is alright sir.” She said. “I’m Kin’Fuji Hartley, I just came aboard.” She added was her tails shifting out being her. “Please call me Kin’Fuji.”

It then dawned on Bane that he had seen this officer before, in the very recent past. “Didn’t I see you on the Cavalry?”

“Sorry Sir, I never served on that ship.” Kin’Fuji said. “I just transferred over from the Calgary, with my wife and daughter.” She explained. “The Cait’sune are a rarer subspecies of the Caitian people. So it is possible that you are mistaking me for another of my people. Maybe one of my cousins.”

Bane nodded. “That may be it. If that is the case, please accept my sincerest apologies for the mistaken identity,” he said, meaning it. “I just came aboard to. What is your position and duty aboard this ship, and have you checked in just yet?”

“Medical Officer.” She stated. “I was originally slotted for the Assistant Chief Medical Officer, but there was a mixup with personnel. It was given to to another.” Kin’Fuji said with a smile. “I was offered another ship, but that would mean my wife would be posted here without me and our daughter. So I took the down grade in position so I can be with Christina.” She stated. “I was on my way to check in, but I was asked for help from one of the Nurses.” She added.

Plase nodded in understanding. It was admirable that this officer would take a downgrade in position. He was sure Starfleet would make it up to her, and if not Starfleet, then Bane would make it his personal mission to do so. Naturally, he did not tell the Doctor this. “Good. Well, welcome aboard, Doctor. I look forward to seeing you around the ship. If you need anything, please get with either your Chief Medical Officer, or me if necessary.”

“I will, sir.” Kin’Fuji said. “Christina is already supervising the modifications to our quarters.” She stated.

That stopped the Commanding Officer in his tracks. Generally speaking, the Operations Officer had authority to grant the modifications and changes that each species in Starfleet required to be comfortable in their quarters. However, it was also customary for the Chief Operations Officer to inform the Captain when said approval, or denial for that matter, was issued. As the Chief of Operations had not yet done this, it surprised him. “What sort of changes, Doctor?” He wasn’t being accusatory, despite his frustrations with his Operations Officer, but expressing curiosity and a genuine interest in his crew.

“Well….” Kin’Fuji started as she scratched at the side of her muzzle, as she was a bit embarrassed. “There is some equipment in our quarters that are not suitable for those with extra appendages.” She stated as her tails danced behind her, drawing attention to them.

“Ah,” he said, holding his hand up in a gesture that not further explanation was needed. “Well then, I sincerely hope once all the modifications are completed, you, your wife and family will be extremely comfortable.” He smiled at the Doctor, then continued. “Please excuse me, Doctor. I have a considerable amount of work to do before the Cygnus and the Calgary part ways,” he stated. “Again, welcome aboard, and have a wonderful day!”

Kin’Fuji flashed a brilliant smile at the Captain. “Thank you sir.” She said. “I hope the rest of your day is a pleasant and productive.”

With that, the two officers parted ways.

OFF

Kin’Fuji Hartley, Lieutenant jg
USS Cygnus, Medical Officer

&

Bane Plase, Captain
USS Cygnus, Commanding

While Lieutenant Anderson made her way to the Ready Room, Bane took a moment to look over the crew compliment of the Cygnus. He wasn’t looking at the files of each member of the Cygnus closely, he did ensure to pay attention to the glaring reality of this ship. Her crew compliment was junior, in the extreme. Best he could see, the highest ranking person on this ship, save himself, was the Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Elodin, whom he had the pleasure of meeting a short bit ago. Everyone else, including the entirety of the Senior Staff, where junior Lieutenants and below. Out loud, he muttered, “How could Starfleet Command do this to a poor ship and crew?” Unfortunately, he had no answer. Not coming up with anything, he tapped his commbadge. “Lieutenant Lisald, please report to my Ready Room.”

On the Bridge, Lisald sat up straighter in his chair at his duty station at Ops. “Aye sir,” he said. From his station on the Bridge, it was a short three steps to the door. It hissed open as he approached, and he entered. “Sir, Lieutenant Lisald reporting as ordered. And sir, please allow me this opportunity to say that it is an incredible pleasure and honor to serve under your command. I mean, I loved serving under Captain Stafford and Commander Pope, but to be serving under you? Sir, you are a legend among Bajorans!”

Bane furrowed his brow. “Yes, thank you, Lieutenant.” Boy, was that awkward!  “Please, have a seat. I have some questions for you.” Happily, Lisald sat down in the chair offered by the Captain. “First, tell me about you.”

Lisald beamed. He had been waiting for this moment since Bane had come aboard. “Well, I grew up in Raakar Providence. I was credited with finding ancient Bajoran texts on a boulder not far from my home.” Lisald brightened up at the next nugget of information. “It is on display at the Central Museum on Bajor!” Lisald thought he would get a reaction out of Bane, but he did not, so he continued. “I earned my Doctorate in Archaeology, with a minor in Anthropomorphic Studies. I worked briefly with the Bajoran Scientific Survey Team of Archaeology, but I had learned to fall in love with the stars when I was in college, having joined the Astronomy Team on a whim. I applied to Starfleet and was accepted. Upon graduation, I was assigned here, and have been here ever since.”

The Captain was surprised. “You earned a doctorate before you joined Starfleet? I thought you looked older than some of the other junior Lieutenants, but I didn’t want to be rude. Do you prefer to be called Doctor Lisald, or Lieutenant?”

It was a fair question, and Lisald was happy to be asked. “I prefer Lieutenant, sir. I would not want to be confused with a medical doctor.”

“LIeutenant it is,” said the Captain. “How come you are not in the science division then, if you have a doctorate in science?”

Vaat smiled. “I used to be, Captain. Captain Stafford and Commander Pope saw fit to transfer me to Operations because of my asperations of someday being a Captain, like you.” He meant it to be flattering, but it came of as a bit of a brown-noser.

“Uh huh,” Bane said, deadpan. Shifting gears for the real reason Bane called Lisald into this office. “Lieutenant, why do you suppose there is a severe lack of experienced officers aboard this ship? I took note of it a moment ago, and the highest ranking person on this ship is Doctor Elodin.”

Vaat nodded. “Yes sir. That is actually a recent development. We used to have a Commander, Commander Pope, who was our Executive Officer, but she left with the Captain, er, that is, Captain Stafford. We also used to have a Lieutenant Commander at Security and Tactical, Lieutenant Commander Angus McTavish. He got transferred off to be Second Officer of the USS Angkor Wat, I believe. We also used to have a Lieutenant Commander in Engineering, Lieutenant Commander Abrum Micca, Captain Staffords husband, but he lost his leg during the Deneb IV mission and decided to take a sabbatical from Starfleet. We also had a Lieutenant Commander as our Chief Pilot, Lieutenant Commander Alexandus Rex, but he retired from Starfleet following the same mission where Commander Micca was wounded.”

Bane nodded. “So I am hearing this ship is a curse for Lieutenant Commanders,” he joked. “Ok, I will see about getting some more experienced officers onto this ship when we return from our mission. Thank you Lieutenant, that will be all. I look forward to serving with you.”

“Aye sir,” Lisald said, standing up. Before he turned to move, he had to ask the question that was likely on everyone’s mind. “Sir, what do you plan to do about an Executive Officer?”

Bane looked up at him, then leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of him. “Nothing, right now. We don’t have anyone aboard that has sufficient rank or experience, let alone sufficient training to do the job. As for now, we will be without one.”

Vaat nodded, understanding that the Captain would be taking on two peoples roles, likely the two positions that had the most to do on the ship. “Well, if you need anything Captain, call on me. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

Plase nodded. “I appreciate that, Lieutenant. So long as you do your job and do it well, that will be all the help I could ask for.” Bane chose not to ask the good Lieutenant why he didn’t inform him of the modifications being done to Doctor Kin’Fuji’s quarters. That would be a discussion for another day. “Dismissed, Lieutenant.”

“Sir,” he said in way of salutations before heading back to the Bridge and to his post at Operations.

OFF

Lieutenant (jg) Lisald Vaat
Chief Operations Officer
USS Cygnus

&

Bane Plase, Captain
USS Cygnus, Commanding

In an unusual move, Captain Bane had invited several members of the crew to the Staff Briefing usually reserved for the Senior Staff of the ship. However, with the way that Starfleet had conducted itself, removing four of the original senior officers from the ship mid-mission, Bane wanted to ensure everyone knew what their mission was. It served several purposes; it allowed the information he was about to share to be disseminated quicker and also showed that he, as Captain, and more, as a member of this crew, that he cared about the uncertainty everyone was feeling. He didn’t know a single person aboard this ship any more than they knew him, and he wanted to be sure that they all felt like family as soon as possible.

“Alright,” he began, looking around the table. “I appreciate you all coming.” He looked and nodded at each person as he said their name. “Lieutenant Lisald, our Chief Operations Officer. Lieutenant Gore, our Chief Tactical Officer. Lieutenant Anderson, our Chief Engineer. Dr. Elodin, our Chief Medical Officer. Ensign Spangler, our Chief Science Officer. Dr. Dattek-Winters, our Assistant Chief Medical Officer” (he paused for a second after he looked at her, what with her Cardassian features). ” And Doctor Kin’Fuji, our Medical Officer. Thank you all for coming here and taking time out of your busy schedules. I know there is a lot to do as each of you adjust to your new roles and new responsibilities, or to help out the others that are new,” he said, specifically looking to his brethren, Lisald and Elodin.

“Our mission ahead of us is 100 percent exploratory and science. Starfleet Command sent this ship to the relative back-side of Cardassian Territory, where the Federation knows little to nothing about. The best we do know is that there is at least one space-faring civilization there. We don’t really know where, or if they are friendly or hostile, only that they call themselves ‘The Commonwealth’. Questions,” he asked, opening up the floor to each of them.

Kin’Fuji remained quiet as she didn’t understand why she was summoned to this meeting.  What the Captain just said could have been said over the ship wide intercom.  “Couldn’t we get all needed information from the Cardassian Union?”  She finally asked.

Bane looked to the Cait’sune medical officer. “Thank you for asking, Doctor. The short answer is we have asked. However, they are notoriously tight-lipped when giving information, even innocent information like this. Hence the reason we are being sent out there to find out.” He looked to the rest of the officers assembled here for more questions.

“I’ve been analyzing the data they gave to us from our last mission.” Albert paused, scrolling through the PaDD in his hand, “We thought they had either altered the data to conceal their means & methods; but I’ve dug a bit deeper and I don’t think they did.” He shrugged, looking back up, “I don’t think they did; their data might just not be that good.”

Bane was surprised by this, what with he knew about the Cardassian Union and their intelligence services. “I’ve always known the Cardassians to keep meticulous record, Mr. Spangler. That is extremely telling their data isn’t that good. Could it possibly be a paradigm shift from their traditional ways?”

Elodin harrumphed. “The Cardassians aren’t exactly known to be the explorer type,” he pointed out. “Unless this planet had resources they could subvert, or the planet had any kind of strategic value, I doubt they gave it much interest. And given its location, in the Outer Rim, I don’t think it has that much strategic value.”

The Captain smiled despite himself. As he was smiling, he caught sight of Dattek-Winters, his smile disappearing from his face in an instant. Clearing his throat, he responded. “You have a valid point, Doctor Elodin, about how they aren’t known to be prolific explorers.” He let the rest of the statement the Doctor stated hang in the air.

Having seen the Captain’s enchanting smile disappear from his face as soon as he noticed her, Winters was shocked and very sad at the same time. She had no idea why he had reacted to her that way but it couldn’t have been a good omen, that was for sure.  She spoke quietly and although, as she had determined yesterday, she managed to look him in the eyes hoping to convince him of her earnestness, her hope that she might be able to regain his good opinion was sinking fast.

“I  understand that at the end of the war with the Dominion, the Cardassians as a military whole, picked the wrong side and were massacred by the Jem Hadar…. in their millions”  Ravi ventured  “Is it reasonable to imagine that a lot of records and record keepers perished at that time and the balance of order has not been able to be re-established yet?  Perhaps therefore, they really don’t know much about whatever is out here, much less any lone and unexplored planets.”  Unconsciously, she ran her fingers through her dark wavy hair and down her mother’s precious Bajoran Earring.

Plase nodded, the notion that their records could be lost a new idea to him. He wished he had thought of it. “You aren’t wrong at all, Doctor Dattek-Winters.” He looked around the room briefly before continuing. “There could be a million different reasons why the Cardassian Central Government has not been able to provide this information, ranging from simply never having had it,” he said, looking at Doctor Kin’Fuji, “to giving what they had and it not being very detail,” he said, looking at Spangler, “to them never being interested in that part of space, and therefore never explored it beyond the occasional sensor sweep from light years away,” he stated, looking at Doctor Elodin, “to the information having been lost, possibly forever, to the Cardassians,” he said, looking to Dattek-Winters. 

Bane took in a few breaths before looking at Lieutenants Gore and Anderson. “Lieutenant Gore, Lieutenant Anderson, Lieutenant Lisald, you three have been conspicuously silent during this conversation. What say you?”

Gore nodded to his commanding officer. “The Cardassian Union is not ready politically to be an imperial actor on the galactic stage again”, he said. “Probably, I mean”, he added, quickly. “Public opinion outside the Union might not have mattered much to them in the past, but they cannot afford to be seen as a threat to peace at this time. That does not mean that they have no interest in what is sitting on their back porch. It would be imprudent, and out of character for them. They probably have their own designs on whatever lies out there. A successful high profile first contact with a potentially powerful new ally would be a coup for them politically. Also it would be a strategic misstep to let the Federation get too friendly with peoples they have borders with. Being surrounded by powers whose dispositions are not advantageous is never a good position to be in”, he said. For half a second, he almost added something else, but ultimately held back.

Lisald spoke up for the first time during this mission, taking the time and opportunity to listen to his comrades and shipmates, and to fully gather everything that was going to be said. “Sir, I have to agree with Lieutenant Gore. It is highly suspect they have not talked to their back yard neighbors, or scoped them out. Sir, I recommend we ask Command to push the Cardassian Union again on any more relevant information.” He inhaled. “In the meantime, I have been disseminating First Contact procedures to the crew and have ensured everyone is brushing up on it.”

Bane nodded. “Good job Lieutenant Lisald. I also want you to allocate all the power and resources needed for the Science Department. Ensign Spangler,” he said, looking to the Chief Science Officer, “You and your staff will likely be the busiest. I want perfect calibration of all sensors and want a dozen or more of each class of probe ready to launch, and all of your staff refreshed in planetary survey, entomological survey, flora and fauna surveys and any other survey you can think of. I want them all and I want this done to the greatest of your ability. Lieutenant Gore,” he went on, looking at the Chief Tactical Officer, “Be sure to get familiar with the tactical capabilities of this ship. I’d like to see you run several drills for each of the four shifts between now and when we make contact. With all of the new people aboard,” he said, looking around at the staff before him, “Myself included, we will surely need the practice. Dr. Elodin, I do not expect any medical emergencies to come your way, but you and your staff will be extremely busy cataloguing and updating Starfleet records when we start meeting these new-to-us people. Please be sure your staff is ready.” He looked to his Chief Engineer. “Lieutenant Anderson, do your thing down in Engineering, and please make sure all the power that Lieutenant Lisald needs is available for when he starts allocating it to the various departments.

Spangler looked sideways at Lisald; the only other person in the room that had any idea how big of an ask that was at the moment. “Yes, Sir.”

Bane looked around again at all of the officers set before him. They had their tasks before them. He was sure they were all eager to get back to their posts so they could do what they did best. He knew they were all excited about this mission too. Adventure, discovery, seeking out and finding new life and new civilizations, first contact. This mission had everything to offer that each of them signed up to Starfleet for.

Looking around at the staff of the USS Cygnus, Bane inhaled deeply. “Alright everyone, let’s get to it. Dismissed.” Plase was happy to get this mission on the road. As they all filed out of the room, he watched them all go, but he kept a very specific eye on his Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Anderson. She hadn’t said a word to him, or any of them, this entire meeting, despite he asking her several times. It was almost like she wasn’t even there. He would have to keep an eye on her.

A JP by the entire crew of the USS Cygnus

Bane Plase, CaptainUSS Cygnus, Commanding

&

Lieutenant GoreChief Tactical Officer

&

Dr. Elodin DevanChief Medical Officer

&

Lieutenant (jg) Lisald VaatChief Operations Officer

&

Dr. Raviran Dattek-WintersAssistant Chief Medical Officer

&

Dr. Kin’FujiMedical Officer

&

Ensign Albert SpanglerChief Science Officer

Ravi boarded the Shuttle that would carry her from the USS Calgary across to The USS Cygnus, which was apparently going to be a bit more of a challenge than she had first imagined.  She was fine about the Cygnus itself and the role she would play there and was really happy to have been appointed ACMO as that fitted beautifully with her previous role on the USS Colony.  It was another ACMO position but different in that it would be a bigger ship and a bigger, more advanced SickBay.  

However, she had been following Fleet News and had just learned that the Senior Officers of her new ‘home-to-be’ had been changed radically and the people she had studied up on, had been promoted away.  Now she had to try to find out something about whoever would be replacing them so having no contacts on board the Calgary, she was at least able to ask around in Ten Forward and of the Communications Officer with whom she’d made friends when she first came aboard there. 

Perhaps those were not the best sources of information, when she looked back in Retrospect later on, but they were all she had at the time and she was very curious. Thankfully she was not a cat and therefore not in danger of worse, but nonetheless, she would come to regret the effect that curiousity was about to have on her shortly.

What her new “friend” He’Vek the Klingon in Communications had to say had been a little disquieting as he had been somewhat amused to tell her that the new CO was Bajoran and so were a large percentage of the crew on the Cygnus. That amusement should have been a red flag in itself. 

Ravi had protested that  ‘so was she…..a large percentage Bajoran’  – well, half, which was no dismissible percentage but ‘Vek’ had replied that she didn’t “look” very Bajoran and she had to admit he was right on that one.

“Well, they…… ” she emphasised the ‘they’ part of that…  THEY had better learn not to judge a book by its cover, then hadn’t THEY?  She had retorted, slightly offended but with no leg to stand on in arguing this.   “And anyway….. I’m more Starfleet-Terran than either of my blood genetics…. so that will have to help.” she said, realising that it didn’t HAVE to do any such thing.  What would HAVE to help, if such a thing was possible, would HAVE to be how she dealt with this.  How she presented herself and how she was perceived as a professional.  Those were the things that would help her.  Those and her open, honest, sometimes even naive if she admitted it, nature.  Cardassians had very little of what Ravi was made up of, save for their devotion to family.  

“……and also….. 40% of my new colleagues won’t be Bajoran at all!” she added, beginning to wonder if He’Vek was onto something but then dismissing it as pure speculative mischief on his part and pushing it out of her mind as irrelevant nonsense – if only she had made that resolution work! 

Once on board the shuttle, Ravi took a seat and watched the others around her.  She smiled and was pleasant. 100% her usual friendly self.  Then she saw the most impressive man she’d set eyes on.  Judging by his uniform and rank pips, this was the Captain and his Bajoran features were …. well… breathtaking…. if she was honest with herself.  She tried not to stare.  He was tall, strong….. NO!  This was NOT the right way to start.  ~back up baby!~ she told herself sternly but silently.   Averting her eyes on instinct it suddenly occurred to her that it wasn’t good NOT to look him in the eyes but it was too late, the moment was gone and she was cross with herself already.  

The rest of the journey was uneventful and she spent the whole time determined to get a chance to see the CO again and to greet him properly, but he was nearer the door than she was and the crowd of officers and crew leaving in and orderly fashion prevented her from pushing through to him before he was gone.

~oh well~ she consoled herself.  ~He’ll have time to find out I’m not the type to avoid eye contact normally, he just took me by surprise and it’s all He’Vek’s fault for planting the seeds of doubt that I let grow enough to pull me down at a crucial moment.  I’m an idiot.~ 

Pushing her shoulders back and looking openly at every single person she saw from then on, Ravi went on with trying to mend her bridges and squash the sinking feeling that she’d allowed to grow inside her from the poisonous and ridiculous seeds of doubt her former “so called friend” had sown.  

The ACMO’s quarters were easy to find and she settled in happily, trying to forget everything, relax and start tomorrow fresh and better.  This was going to be fantastic and she wasn’t going to be sabotaged by doubts and/or gossip.  She reminded herself she was a Lieutenant (jg) and Officers didn’t have doubts or listen to rubbish rumour and malicious hurtful gossip.  Settling in, she went to find the CMO but found she’d missed him going off to his shift so she smiled at a lot of people until her face began to tell her she was overdoing it and shook herself back to normal.

As she finally drifted off to sleep, Ravi tried to recall exactly how her biological parents had looked but the mists of time and growing up had made their faces a little bit hazy.  Rose-coloured perhaps, as memories can be when people are lost and gone.   

Her mum, she knew, was beautiful.  Tall for her Race but slender and with the loveliest nose ridges.  Ravi’s own Bajoran nose ridges were hard to tell apart from her Cardassian exoskeletal forehead “spoon” as the kids at school had called it.  The blue tinge that signified her female gender was faint but still, she was told, pretty and her Mother’s Bajoran Earring that her adopted parents had kept for her, for when she grew old enough to be asked if she wanted it, was to her own mind, attractive. She had accepted it with gratitude and wore it with pride.  She had always known that her large brown eyes had come from her dad and the dark hair too, but her not-so-pale skin was a sign she wasn’t the usual product of Cardassia Prime where everyone seemed so contrastingly fair beneath such dark locks.  

No.  No-one could think she was anything but a very nice Terran Starfleet bred officer and a great Medic…… well, she had to prove that second bit yet, but she would.  Just give her time.

Lt(jg) Raviran Dattek-Winters

ACMO

USS Cygnus

ON:

[transporter room]

The transporter room had been quiet for some time now, and Ensign Veenak was enjoying a moment of respite from all of the incoming and exiting personnel over the past few hours. Sitting on the transporter pad with a PADD in one hand and a coffee in the other, she was consulting the manifests and wondering which one would be next. Not that she had any preferences, she tried to lie to herself, taking a sip of her coffee… but who knows? Perhaps there might be a dashing young officer who—

…and then came the distinctive chirp of ship’s communications, interrupting her moment of rêverie.

“Bridge to transporter room, come in” said a man’s voice.

Veenak sighed. She knew that meant break time was over.

“Transporter room, Ensign Veenak here” she said, making her way back to the console.

“We’ve got one Lieutenant… Gore… to beam up” the voice came.

“I’m on it” she replied, as she put the coffee mug and PADD on top of the console.

Her hands flew over the commands from muscle memory alone and moments later, in a flash of lights, said ‘Lieutenant Gore’ materialized before her eyes. As a matter of reflex, she made her way around the console and towards the transporter pad to greet the new arrival. Before she had even taken stock of the man, she greeted him with a tired but polite “Welcome aboard sir, you must be Lieutenant Gore?” and an extended hand.

The lieutenant made his way down the two steps of the platform but took a moment to remove a black leather glove from his hand before shaking hers.

The move surprised her a bit, but not as much as the faint electric crackling sensation she felt. If the first shock left her surprised, she all color left her face in terror as she lifted her eyes to meet his. They were terrifying, red, glowing cybernetic eyes. She reeled back a little.

“Indeed” he said in as polite and composed a tone as he could muster, acting as if he had not noticed the look of shock on her face. “And who might you be?” he asked, smiling to try to alleviate the tension somewhat.

“I’m…Veenak” she said in a shaky voice, her gaze avoiding his. She then collected herself and cleared her thoat. “Enseign Veenak, sir. P…Pleased to meet you, sir” she said, trying to return her gaze to her interlocutor.

Lieutenant Gore was an impressive sight. Perhaps some 5’10”, exceptionally fit from the looks of him, with a strong and confident handshake but considerate enough not to crush her hand. He might even have been roguishly handsome once, or maybe he still might be if one could get over the eyes that could probably look right through you and then vaporize your soul with a gaze… With the exception of the gloves, he was wearing the standard duty uniform. He had a duffel bag slung on his shoulder. His hair was tied back with a black ribbon in a way reminiscent of the fashion of earth’s 18th century. He also had a small goatee, and a few pieces of discreet cyber-ware were also visible on his face. Was he a cyborg of some kind? Was… all of him like that?

“Pleased to meet you also, Ensign” he responded in a deep, rich baritone. No robotic voice there.

After a few second of awkward silence, she broke the staring contest by reaching for the for the console, where she had left her things. Intending to grab the PADD and show the Lieutenant where he would find his quarters, she nervously and unthinkingly grabbed the mug of coffee and only realized her mistake once she had taken a sip. She froze in place for a second, the mug still in the air. Maybe his vision is movement-based and he can’t see me anymore, she hoped.

She swallowed hard, put down the mug without a sound, tried a nervous smile as she picked up the PADD and turned to face him.

The humour of the situation did not escape Gore, having been through all this before. He could have pressed the farce a little further by affecting some false irritation, and the thought did cross his mind for a moment, but opted against it.

“You will find the officers quarters on deck 8. A number of them are still vacant. You will get your pick of them” she said, her fingers dancing across the display.

“Thank you, ensign”, he responded coolly, but with a kindly smile. “Please inform the commanding officer of my arrival, and that I will be making myself available to report at his leisure.”

“Yes, sir” she replied.

Giving a quick nod in her direction, Gore took a few steps towards the door. Looking back for a second as the doors opened, he noticed that she was still frozen in place.

He gave a slightly mocking smile and said “Carry on, Ensign Veenak” before making his exit.

OFF

Lieutenant GoreChief Tactical OfficerUSS Cygnus 

“Thank you for the update, Ensign Veenak,” Bane said, then tapped his commbadge off. Plase was relieved that everyone that was coming from and going to the Calgary had finally made it aboard. It had been a hell of a transfer of people in the middle of space like this. Usually massive crew changes happened at a major starbase. For whatever reason, Starfleet missed the mark when the Cygnus was at Deep Space 9. 

Bane was glad to hear that the last of his new Senior Officers had come aboard, Lieutenant Gore. ‘Such an odd name,’ Bane thought, but then again, Bane thought ‘Bill’ was a strange name, too. He tapped his commbadge again. “Captain Bane to Lieutenant Gore. Please report to the Captain’s Ready Room via the Main Bridge at your earliest convenience.”

——————

[Deck 8]

Gore stood at a computer panel, looking over the floor plan of deck 8 to determine which quarters were still available. Of these, he compared the various configurations, and picked the one that seemed most advantageous. One would not want to live next door to the lounge or something like that.

As he reached his destination, the door slid open. He barely had time to toss his bag on the bed that his commbadge chimed in. “Captain Bane to Lieutenant Gore. Please report to the Captain’s Ready Room via the Main Bridge at your earliest convenience”. “On my way, sir” he replied, tapping the badge.

—————–

[Deck 1, Bridge]

When the doors of the turbolift finally opened revealing the bridge, Gore was greeted by an unusual sight. The bridge design was clearly inspired by the Galaxy design, but was cooler in it’s hues than the original configuration. The wooden floor was a very nice touch. He wondered how much of this upgrade was some commanding officer’s whim. Whoever had a hand in this should be thanked profusely. Gore would never openly criticize the original design. It was a classic at this point… but it was… dated, to be polite.

Walking unto the floor, he made his way to the command center and noticed that the central chair was empty.

“If you are looking for the Captain, Lieutenant, he is in his office,” Lisald said from the forward port station, Operations. He was pointing to the door a few meters away from him.

“Thank you” he replied with a nod and made his way to the door of the ready room and buzzed to be let in.

“Enter,” Bane said. The doors swished open and revealed what had to be a Pah Wraith. The man had red eyes that were synonymous with the evil beings of the Fire Caves of Bajor. “Dear Prophets, who are you,” Bane exclaimed.

“Lieutenant Gore, Chief Tactical and Security officer, reporting for duty as ordered sir”, Gore replied, repressing a grin. He was used to such reactions, but that one was genuinely funny.

Plase relaxed visibly. “I should really look at the service jackets of people before I meet them,” he said, a half smile on his face. “Terribly sorry about my reaction Lieutenant.” Bane stood and welcomed him to the office. “Please, come in and have a seat. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Gore. You came over via the Calgary?”

“Thank you, sir” Gore replied. He made his way towards one of the chairs opposite the captain’s desk. “I have, and count myself fortunate for that opportunity, sir. She is a classy lady. One of the last of her generation still in service” he said with a smile.

“It was nice seeing the advancements in spaceframe technology and construction, as well as being able to walk the decks of a ship from yesteryear.  I caught a ride on her too. I’m surprised I didn’t see you over there during our journey. No matter though,” he said, waiving his hand dismissively. “Tell me about yourself. Where are you from? How long have you been in Starfleet? Are your eyes natural to your species? And I’d love to know more about your implants. That is something that isn’t seen very often in our society. In fact, I think you are the only one I’ve ever encountered with such implants in my many decades of service.”

“I feel some kind of connection to older designs like Calgary, in a way. My relationship to them will become obvious quickly” he began to explain. “I have been in the service for the past 12 years, and have seen a variety of assignments types ranging from shipboard service to extended field operations, some more dangerous than others. I have had limbs blown off, been poisoned, my eyes and optic nerves damaged by shrapnel, been exposed to radiation from failing exotic warp cores… I will spare you the rest of the details, but they are in my file…” 

“Bless the Prophets,” he exclaimed hearing about all the injuries that Gore had sustained while in service. It was a wonder he was still alive to tell the tale, and something of a minor miracle that he seemed he still had a gentle soul; he had not been corrupted by anger and hatred and doubt and despair. “I much prefer to learn about people by talking to them and forming my own opinion. Those files can sometimes be misleading, Lieutenant.”

“Now… I call Freecloud my home because that is where I was born, but my species hails from Brekka, in the Delos system.  Brekkians have a peculiar biology, by Federation standards” he began to explain, removing a leather glove from his left hand, his good hand. Holding his hand up, he produced a low-intensity electric field featuring branching lightning. ”This being an entirely natural phenomenon, unrelated to my implants”.

Even though the Captain was impressed by the inherent biological advantage that allowed, he did not react to it. “I have heard of the Brekkians. Has that given you any advantages or a leg up, as they say, in your duties as Tactical and Security?”

Putting his glove back on, he lifted his gaze to meet the captain’s. “One might think so, but it has not been an advantage to me in that sense. Due the nature of my biology, my body rejected the newest generation of bio-tech prosthetics. My implants are literally antiques that are a century or so old in design. It is in that sense, I suppose, that I feel a connection to old gals like the Calgary”.

“Ah, I see,” said the Bajoran officer. “That is unfortunate. It must be an incredible disadvantage to not be able to use state-of-the-art technology for your implants.”

“Well, there upsides. The technology itself has not changed much over the last century or so. Most of the innovation has come from materials making them more natural, including their original limitations. On one hand, mine are made from ultralight but artificial materials instead of more modern biological stuff, so at the cost of exhaustion, I can use my natural energy production capacity to squeeze extra performance from the implants without fear of damaging them… but on the other hand, these eyes look like they come from someone’s nightmares” he said with an acknowledging nod.

Bane had to laugh at that one. “You aren’t wrong about that! I suppose you get the same reaction, or close to it, from most people you meet the very first time.” There was a natural pause to the conversation, so Bane continued. “I plan on holding a Staff Meeting tomorrow at 0800 in the Staff Room. Please be there. It would be a great idea to get familiar with your staff and crew in your Department. Tomorrow at the meeting I will discuss with everyone what our mission is and we can go from there as a unified force.”

“Will do, and 0800 aye sir” Gore responded, recognizing the unspoken dismissal. He rose from the chair to act on the CO’s recommendation.

“Excellent. Pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant. Dismissed.”

OFF

Lieutenant GoreChief Sec/Tac OfficerUSS Cygnus

&

Bane Plase, CaptainUSS Cygnus, Commanding

Captain Bane made his way to sickbay for the dreaded physical that was required by Starfleet Regulation whenever a member of Starfleet was reassigned to a ship, station, outpost or Headquarters. To Bane, it was a silly regulation, but it was a regulation. As such, as he made his way to Sickbay, he passed several members of the crew, all of which were yearning to get a good look at their new Skipper.

Prior to leaving his new Ready Room, he had made a shipwide announcement informing the crew that Captain Stafford, the Captain they all knew and loved, had been reassigned, as had their Executive Officer and Chief Engineer. Over the next several days, he would be filling some of the important positions that had been vacated by existing officers on the ship. At their next layover at a Starbase, close to a year from now, he would get a new Executive Officer and hopefully a Second Officer, just in case something like this particular scenario happened again. He shook his head as he rounded a corner, much to the dismay of two Petty Officers who undoubtedly thought he was shaking his head at them, about the decision to pull the two most Senior Officers from this ship, mid mission, and without warning. He was super happy for Commander Pope, well, that is, now-Captain Pope, and wondered again briefly about the classified posting that was going to be in store for Captain Stafford.

The doors to Sickbay parted, and he was greeted with the sight of several Doctors, more nurses and even more orderly’s tending to the sick and injured that happened from time to time during routine ship life. He would be interested to see his Chief Medical Officers report for this shift tomorrow morning to see what the common denominator was in so many injuries and illnesses. Not that there were a lot, Bane only counted six, but that seemed like a lot of people to him in the middle of the working shift when they were still en route to their first checkpoint.

Looking around, he didn’t readily see the Chief Medical Officer, so he asked a passing tech, a Crewman First Class, who pointed him over to a Bajoran. Thanking the young man, Bane stepped over to the man. “Hello Doctor Elodin. Captain Bane, your new Captain. I’m here for the regulatory physical,” he said, and waited for the man to finish what he was doing.

Elodin finished tapping his notes into the computer, and looked up at the ship’s new man in charge. “Captain Bane,” said Elodin with a nod. “Welcome aboard. And thank you for reporting for your physical – usually new commanding officers prefer to delay until the ship’s Chief Medical Officer has to threaten to have them declared unfit for duty.”

Before Bane could respond, Elodin swiped away the medical file he’d been working on, and led the Captain to a biobed. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

“Thanks,” Bane said, sitting down. “You aren’t wrong about most Captain’s, I would surmise. I figure this way, I can kill two mockingcrows with one rock,” using the Bajoran metaphor. “I get this dreaded physical out of the way, and get to meet you.” Then, his voice dropped to a hushed tone. “It’s quite nice I get assigned to a ship that is mostly Bajoran officers and crew.”

“Indeed, it’s rather unusual to have this many of our kin serving on the same ship,” nodded Elodin. “The Prophets work in mysterious ways. But in this case, I suspect some admiral at Starfleet command might have stacked the deck in our favor.”

Plase smiled. “You probably aren’t wrong,” he stated, lifting his arm high over his head as the Doctor guided him.

Elodin activated the privacy holocurtains around the biobed and turned on the bioscanners as the Captain removed his uniform top and made himself comfortable on the biobed. “Now, tell me about your medical history?” he asked. Obviously the information was readily available from the Captain’s medical record, but it was standard procedure to have the patient describe it in his own words.

“As fit as a Tarkellian Grizzly,” he said, a wry look forming on his face. “Really nothing much to report. I struggled with the loss of crew over the years, and the death of my wife, Suzette Marrion-Bane, but I’ve been through copious amounts of counselling over both of those. Been knocked around a few times during battle, couple of broken bones, scrapes and bruises, but nothing too major,” he said.

Elodin nodded, and tapped a few notes. “What about your family’s medical history?” he asked, painfully aware that not many Bajorans were able to answer that question.

Bane was silent for a moment, remembering his painful childhood before answering. “Well, in terms of health, both of my parents were fine, no disease or ailments. Both were killed during the Occupation. My father, Bane Tion was killed during the Slave Revolt of Labor Camp Bal’Hava Prime. My mother, Bane Primrese, was executed in the days afterwards for the insolence of her husband, my father. I was ‘invited’ to watch,” he said, bile threatening to come up from the memories, something he hadn’t needed to think about in a great deal of time. “As for my grandparents, aunts, uncles, counsins, I am not sure if they ever had any hereditary or cellular disease. It isn’t like we had a lot of time to talk about it.”

Elodin nodded. “So many of our stories sound alike,” he sighed. “I’ll run a full genetic scan, that should warn us of any predispositions that could be hiding in the shadows. Now tell me about your lifestyle… Diet, exercise?”

The senior Bajoran nodded at the comment about stories sounding alike. “My previous doctor on the Sentinel told me about a year ago that my cholesterol was slightly elevated. She said it was over by exactly one point, whatever that means,” Plase said, shrugging. “She told me to cut back on red meats, to try and eat more chicken and fish, so I have. But bless the Prophets Doctor, I do love me a cheeseburger. It is one of the few culinary delights I really enjoyed from old Earth. I’ve mostly cut it out of my diet. Beyond that, I like potatoes a great deal. I also eat my fair share of fruits. The watercherry from our home is my favorite. Oh, and I work out one to two times a week for about an hour each time. Resistance training and the elliptical are my go-to’s.”

“I see that about your cholesterol. Nothing we can’t handle with a monthly injection. The food replicators can be programmed to adjust the composition of your food to prevent cholesterol buildup, but on Starfleet ships, I’m afraid most replicators are programmed by default to correspond to human levels. I’ll have Operations double-check to make sure the ones in your quarters and Ready Room are calibrated for Bajoran physiology.”

He tapped a few commands. The display on the wall monitor focused on Plase’s shoulder. “Any pain in this area? I’m seeing some thickening of the ligaments there.”

Bane winced a bit and involuntarily pulled away. “I am now,” he said. “Truth be told, I thought I slept on it wrong a few months back. Its been bothering me since, but nothing that has limited me performing my duties,” Bane amended quickly. Plase knew the Chief Medical Officer outranked the Captain in anything medical-related, and didn’t want to give this particular doctor any reason to remove him from command, even for a few hours. Trying to move the topic away from his pain, Bane asked, “What is your story, Doctor? How did you make your way to the Cygnus?”

“I expect it’s a bit similar to yours,” replied Elodin. “I grew up in the refugee camps. My father died when I was still a baby, in the ore processing centers on Terok Nor, my sister was taken when I was six, and my mother died of malnutrition before I was eight years old. I ended up joining the Resistance at a very young age. I was too young to serve as a combattant, so they used me as a messenger, and a field medic. After the Cardassians withdrew, I continued to work as a field medic in the camp, assisting our doctor, and I signed up for medical school as sooon as I was old enough. Once the Militia was incorporated into starfleet, one thing led to another, and here I am.”

He pressed a hypospray to Plase’s shoulder. “This is an anti-inflammatory agent, it should help a bit with the shoulder pain. It definitely looks like a repetitive stress injury. I want you to take it easy on the resistance training for the next couple of weeks. I can set you up with a subspace consultation with a kinesiologist that’ll go over the workout with you, and make sure you’re doing the movements safely.”

Bane tested his shoulder out by rotating his arm, slowly and in small circles at first, then in larger circles until the pain started again, then stopped. “Thanks. Yeah, that sounds wonderful about the Kinesiologist. It would have to be done during my off-duty hours, though. I don’t want it to interrupt my committment to the ship and her crew.” He then shifted back to the conversation about the Doctor. “I’m really glad you’re here with us. I do not believe I’ve ever met another Bajoran that was grandfathered in when Bajor became a part of the Federation.” He cocked his head to the side in thought. “Strange as that sounds, you are the first. All of the others I have met over my career joined during or after the Occupation when Bajor was still neutral.”

Elodin shrugged. “There aren’t that many of us,” he agreed. “Many chose to step away from the Militia altogether, rather than give an oath of allegiance to another foreign power. But those of us who chose to stay, recognized all that the Federation had done for Bajor since the Cardassians withdrew.”

Plase nodded. “That is right around the time I stopped being called a traitor to our people,” he responded. Looking over to his chart on the display panel, he asked, “Everything good? Anything else I need to do or should worry about?”

“Some of us never had the opportunity to leave all of that behind,” replied Elodin. “But I don’t think I can ever blame someone for grabbing the opportunity for a better life than what we had on Bajor.”

He looked at the readings he was getting from the medical scanners. “I have a good baseline,” he said at last, satisfied that the baseline readings he had stored would be a good basis for comparison should they ever be required. “You’re good to go. Just make sure you show up on the first of the month for that injection for your cholesterol levels. I’ll be in touch with Operations to adjust the programming on your replicators, and I’ll set up an appointment with a kinesiologist for your shoulder.”

Thanking the Doctor for the reminders, he stood and put his shirt back on, followed by his uniform jacket. “Thanks for chatting with me, and making this more enjoyable than most.”

“My pleasure, Captain,” replied Elodin with a nod. “Walk with the Prophets.”

OFF

A JP by:

Elodin Devan, MD.

Chief Medical Officer, USS Cygnus

&

Bane Plase, Captain USS Cygnus, Commanding

In an unusual move, Captain Bane had invited several members of the crew to the Staff Briefing usually reserved for the Senior Staff of the ship. However, with the way that Starfleet had conducted itself, removing four of the original senior officers from the ship mid-mission, Bane wanted to ensure everyone knew what their mission was. It served several purposes; it allowed the information he was about to share to be disseminated quicker and also showed that he, as Captain, and more, as a member of this crew, that he cared about the uncertainty everyone was feeling. He didn’t know a single person aboard this ship any more than they knew him, and he wanted to be sure that they all felt like family as soon as possible.

“Alright,” he began, looking around the table. “I appreciate you all coming.” He looked and nodded at each person as he said their name. “Lieutenant Lisald, our Chief Operations Officer. Lieutenant Gore, our Chief Tactical Officer. Lieutenant Anderson, our Chief Engineer. Dr. Elodin, our Chief Medical Officer. Ensign Spangler, our Chief Science Officer. Dr. Dattek-Winters, our Assistant Chief Medical Officer” (he paused for a second after he looked at her, what with her Cardassian features). ” And Doctor Kin’Fuji, our Medical Officer. Thank you all for coming here and taking time out of your busy schedules. I know there is a lot to do as each of you adjust to your new roles and new responsibilities, or to help out the others that are new,” he said, specifically looking to his brethren, Lisald and Elodin.

“Our mission ahead of us is 100 percent exploratory and science. Starfleet Command sent this ship to the relative back-side of Cardassian Territory, where the Federation knows little to nothing about. The best we do know is that there is at least one space-faring civilization there. We don’t really know where, or if they are friendly or hostile, only that they call themselves ‘The Commonwealth’. Questions,” he asked, opening up the floor to each of them.

Kin’Fuji remained quiet as she didn’t understand why she was summoned to this meeting.  What the Captain just said could have been said over the ship wide intercom.  “Couldn’t we get all needed information from the Cardassian Union?”  She finally asked.

Bane looked to the Cait’sune medical officer. “Thank you for asking, Doctor. The short answer is we have asked. However, they are notoriously tight-lipped when giving information, even innocent information like this. Hence the reason we are being sent out there to find out.” He looked to the rest of the officers assembled here for more questions.

“I’ve been analyzing the data they gave to us from our last mission.” Albert paused, scrolling through the PaDD in his hand, “We thought they had either altered the data to conceal their means & methods; but I’ve dug a bit deeper and I don’t think they did.” He shrugged, looking back up, “I don’t think they did; their data might just not be that good.”

Bane was surprised by this, what with he knew about the Cardassian Union and their intelligence services. “I’ve always known the Cardassians to keep meticulous record, Mr. Spangler. That is extremely telling their data isn’t that good. Could it possibly be a paradigm shift from their traditional ways?”

Elodin harrumphed. “The Cardassians aren’t exactly known to be the explorer type,” he pointed out. “Unless this planet had resources they could subvert, or the planet had any kind of strategic value, I doubt they gave it much interest. And given its location, in the Outer Rim, I don’t think it has that much strategic value.”

The Captain smiled despite himself. As he was smiling, he caught sight of Dattek-Winters, his smile disappearing from his face in an instant. Clearing his throat, he responded. “You have a valid point, Doctor Elodin, about how they aren’t known to be prolific explorers.” He let the rest of the statement the Doctor stated hang in the air.

Having seen the Captain’s enchanting smile disappear from his face as soon as he noticed her, Winters was shocked and very sad at the same time. She had no idea why he had reacted to her that way but it couldn’t have been a good omen, that was for sure.  She spoke quietly and although, as she had determined yesterday, she managed to look him in the eyes hoping to convince him of her earnestness, her hope that she might be able to regain his good opinion was sinking fast.

“I  understand that at the end of the war with the Dominion, the Cardassians as a military whole, picked the wrong side and were massacred by the Jem Hadar…. in their millions”  Ravi ventured  “Is it reasonable to imagine that a lot of records and record keepers perished at that time and the balance of order has not been able to be re-established yet?  Perhaps therefore, they really don’t know much about whatever is out here, much less any lone and unexplored planets.”  Unconsciously, she ran her fingers through her dark wavy hair and down her mother’s precious Bajoran Earring.

Plase nodded, the notion that their records could be lost a new idea to him. He wished he had thought of it. “You aren’t wrong at all, Doctor Dattek-Winters.” He looked around the room briefly before continuing. “There could be a million different reasons why the Cardassian Central Government has not been able to provide this information, ranging from simply never having had it,” he said, looking at Doctor Kin’Fuji, “to giving what they had and it not being very detail,” he said, looking at Spangler, “to them never being interested in that part of space, and therefore never explored it beyond the occasional sensor sweep from light years away,” he stated, looking at Doctor Elodin, “to the information having been lost, possibly forever, to the Cardassians,” he said, looking to Dattek-Winters. 

Bane took in a few breaths before looking at Lieutenants Gore and Anderson. “Lieutenant Gore, Lieutenant Anderson, Lieutenant Lisald, you three have been conspicuously silent during this conversation. What say you?”

Gore nodded to his commanding officer. “The Cardassian Union is not ready politically to be an imperial actor on the galactic stage again”, he said. “Probably, I mean”, he added, quickly. “Public opinion outside the Union might not have mattered much to them in the past, but they cannot afford to be seen as a threat to peace at this time. That does not mean that they have no interest in what is sitting on their back porch. It would be imprudent, and out of character for them. They probably have their own designs on whatever lies out there. A successful high profile first contact with a potentially powerful new ally would be a coup for them politically. Also it would be a strategic misstep to let the Federation get too friendly with peoples they have borders with. Being surrounded by powers whose dispositions are not advantageous is never a good position to be in”, he said. For half a second, he almost added something else, but ultimately held back.

Lisald spoke up for the first time during this mission, taking the time and opportunity to listen to his comrades and shipmates, and to fully gather everything that was going to be said. “Sir, I have to agree with Lieutenant Gore. It is highly suspect they have not talked to their back yard neighbors, or scoped them out. Sir, I recommend we ask Command to push the Cardassian Union again on any more relevant information.” He inhaled. “In the meantime, I have been disseminating First Contact procedures to the crew and have ensured everyone is brushing up on it.”

Bane nodded. “Good job Lieutenant Lisald. I also want you to allocate all the power and resources needed for the Science Department. Ensign Spangler,” he said, looking to the Chief Science Officer, “You and your staff will likely be the busiest. I want perfect calibration of all sensors and want a dozen or more of each class of probe ready to launch, and all of your staff refreshed in planetary survey, entomological survey, flora and fauna surveys and any other survey you can think of. I want them all and I want this done to the greatest of your ability. Lieutenant Gore,” he went on, looking at the Chief Tactical Officer, “Be sure to get familiar with the tactical capabilities of this ship. I’d like to see you run several drills for each of the four shifts between now and when we make contact. With all of the new people aboard,” he said, looking around at the staff before him, “Myself included, we will surely need the practice. Dr. Elodin, I do not expect any medical emergencies to come your way, but you and your staff will be extremely busy cataloguing and updating Starfleet records when we start meeting these new-to-us people. Please be sure your staff is ready.” He looked to his Chief Engineer. “Lieutenant Anderson, do your thing down in Engineering, and please make sure all the power that Lieutenant Lisald needs is available for when he starts allocating it to the various departments.

Spangler looked sideways at Lisald; the only other person in the room that had any idea how big of an ask that was at the moment. “Yes, Sir.”

Bane looked around again at all of the officers set before him. They had their tasks before them. He was sure they were all eager to get back to their posts so they could do what they did best. He knew they were all excited about this mission too. Adventure, discovery, seeking out and finding new life and new civilizations, first contact. This mission had everything to offer that each of them signed up to Starfleet for.

Looking around at the staff of the USS Cygnus, Bane inhaled deeply. “Alright everyone, let’s get to it. Dismissed.” Plase was happy to get this mission on the road. As they all filed out of the room, he watched them all go, but he kept a very specific eye on his Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Anderson. She hadn’t said a word to him, or any of them, this entire meeting, despite he asking her several times. It was almost like she wasn’t even there. He would have to keep an eye on her.

A JP by the entire crew of the USS Cygnus

Bane Plase, Captain

USS Cygnus, Commanding

&

Lieutenant Gore

Chief Tactical Officer

&

Dr. Elodin Devan

Chief Medical Officer

&

Lieutenant (jg) Lisald Vaat

Chief Operations Officer

&

Dr. Raviran Dattek-Winters

Assistant Chief Medical Officer

&

Dr. Kin’Fuji

Medical Officer

&

Ensign Albert Spangler

Chief Science Officer

Captain Bane sat back down in the chair behind his desk in his Ready Room, fresh from being violated in every imaginable way by Dr. Elodin, and set about his next order of business. With the departures of Captain Stafford, Captain Pope and Lieutenant Cohen, Bane was left without a Chief Engineer, someone he could call upon to push their ship to the limits, or, if necessary, hold someone accountable in the event that was necessary

Before Captain Stafford left on the USS Calgary, he had told Bane that the ship had recently been assigned an Assistant Chief Engineer, a Lieutenant junior grade Erica Anderson. He had not read her file yet, and likely wouldn’t, if truth be told. Sometimes people excelled in positions that, on paper, they were never meant for. Not that Lieutenant Anderson wasn’t meant for the position, he mused. With precious little time available to him, Bane tapped his comm. badge and ordered Lieutenant Anderson to his Ready Room.

As Erica received the summons, she wondered why she was needed by the new Captain. She mentally filed the upcoming meeting under the ‘unexpected delay’ routine for her daily agenda. She lived by her daily agenda, following everything by a strict guideline. Routine was good; it meant her life was settled. She even had an amount of time for unexpected delays, including if the ship were forced to be in battle, and so far, everything had gone as planned.

She walked through the corridors, considering her plans for the future. Already, Captain Stafford had left, with a Captain Bane Plase taking the role. She had read his file; he was a competent officer, and as a Captain, he was a decent officer. Would he have read her file?

It didn’t take long to reach the ready room, and as she did, she rang the chime, waiting to be given entry.

Bane looked up at the door.  Lieutenant Lisald had literally just left, not more than 15 seconds ago. It could be him, or it could be Lieutenant Anderson, as he had called her from the bowels of the ship right before calling Lisald to his office. He commanded the door open, and was greeted with Anderson. “Ah, Lieutenant Anderson,” he said standing up and smiling warmly. “Please, do come in and have a seat. I tell you, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

Erica nodded in return. “Thank you for saying so, Captain,” Erica said, as she sat down. “It is… good to meet you too,” she added, trying to think of the best wording to use. “I must confess, I am unsure why you would be pleased to meet me, sir. I’m just an engineer,” she said, wanting to try and understand the point of the meeting.

Plase exhaled through his nose. “Lieutenant, someday soon, you will want to read my service dossier. You will find that I was a Structural Engineer back in my day. I know how hard each of you work down there, how hot and dirty and funky it can be, especially during crisis modes. You aren’t “just an engineer,” Lieutenant. You are the lifeblood of this ship. As I am sure you are aware, Lieutenant Cohen was suddenly reassigned a bit ago, leaving us without a Chief Engineer. You up to the task?”

Erica raised an eyebrow. “As Chief Engineer? Certainly I am able to fulfil the duties of the role, if that is your wish. I should tell you that the only experience in a more senior role, sir, was aboard this ship for the short time I have been aboard. I have also familiarized myself with your service record sir. You came here from the USS Sentinel, where, for one year, your ship had been on a classified assignment. Before that, the USS Bloembergen and before that the USS Pegasus D which was your first position as a Commanding Officer, although that was also your first posting as a Starfleet officer,” Erica recited, recalling the man’s record.

The Captain sat back in his chair, impressed at the rote memorization of this particular officer. “That is correct,” Bane said, remembering each ship. “Good job on doing your homework, especially being I’ve only been aboard for a single day. I am sorry to say that you have me at a disadvantage; I have not the opportunity to study all of the dossiers of the officers on this ship just yet. All I have to go on is that Captain Stafford said you had just come aboard as Assistant Chief Engineer, and that you, unusually, brought a runabout to the ship after the ship left Deep Space 9.” Bane inhaled deeply, and let it out again. “I know there are a lot of officers on this ship that are in positions well above their rank and their experience. I will need you to do that as well, Lieutenant, if you think you can handle it.”

Erica nodded. “Sir, I’ve been studying Engineering since childhood. For me, being an engineer is all I want to do. I live my life by a strict schedule, because it makes life easier. This was… certainly unexpected, but I can adapt and take the role of Chief Engineer,” Erica confirmed. “I already have a few upgrade suggestions to improve the engine efficiency and the effectiveness of shields and sensors,” she added.

Bane smiled, feeling he accomplished a small mission. “Excellent on both accounts, Lieutenant. Please get with Lieutenant Lisald about your proposed suggestions; I am all about improving things wherever we can. Never know when we are going to need that extra power.” He paused, then spoke to the computer. “Computer, please enter into the logs on this stardate that Lieutenant junior grade Erica Anderson is hereby appointed to the position of Chief Engineer of the USS Sent….correction, USS Cygnus,” he said, almost falling into an old habit, “With all the privilege’s thereto.”

“Confirmed. Lieutenant junior grade Erica Anderson is noted as Chief Engineer, USS Cygnus,” it said in its female voice that was somehow devoid of all compassion.

Plase looked to his new Chief Engineer. “Good luck, Lieutenant, and congratulations.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Erica said, smiling at her, already drawing up her new agenda, knowing she had to change her system to accommodate everything, including her new position and making the duty rosters. “Is there anything else you need, sir?”

“At present, no. You will be expected to turn in daily reports of your department. You will get a mulligan for it today, but please have one ready to turn in by the end of the duty day tomorrow. Is there anything you need from me? Any questions, comments, concerns?”

“I’m sorry, what is a mulligan?” Erica asked, confused.

The Captain smiled. “I remember asking the same thing first time I heard it when I was at the Academy. It comes from an ancient Earth game called Golf. It is a maneuver where you can, in effect, forget about a stroke.” He saw the confused look on her face again. “Er, by stroke, I mean a shot or try. The goal of the game, paradoxically, is to play as little of the game as possible. The winner has the lowest score, as odd as that sounds. I tried it many times. It is a fun game, but extremely challenging. In this context, it means I will overlook you not turning in a departmental report for today.”

There was a silence between them for several moments. To Bane, it almost seemed as if she had up and left the room and left her body there. It was only for a moment, then she was back. Bane dismissed it as merely a trick of the light, or possibly from the strain he was filling trying to fill all the critical positions on the ship, and with officers that may not yet be ready for that level of responsibility. Whichever way it was, he continued. “That is all I need, Lieutenant. Congratulations. Your first ship as Chief Engineer will always be a special one to you. Dismissed.” He watched her and she stood, did a curt nod, then left through the door in which she entered.

OFF

Lieutenant junior grade Erica Anderson

Chief Engineer

&

Bane Plase, Captain

USS Cygnus, Commanding

As the officers of the Cygnus stepped out of the Conference Room, Bane himself stepped over to the command chair. It was the first time he had the opportunity to test it out. He slowly sat down and leaned back in it and let out a breath of air he didn’t realize he was holding. It was a moment that every Commanding Officer held near and dear to their heart; the first time they sat down in the Captain’s Chair for the first time of any ship they commanded. He closed his eyes and leaned back, letting his back come in full contact with the chair, from his shoulders to the small of his back, getting the full experience of The Chair. His arms went up to the armrests, where they laid gently. His feet went out a few inches, where he crossed them at the ankles, right ankle over left. 

For a moment, he sat like this, taking in all of the feeling of The Chair, getting the feel of the ambient noises around him, the feel of the vibration of the deck plating, the chatter of the crew on the bridge, the soft beeping and chirping of the various computer stations around him being manipulated. He could make out the two stations in front of him, putting in their commands and controls like a duet. Behind him, he could hear the officer at Tactical (was it Lieutenant Gore? He wasn’t sure) pecking furiously at the control panel. It sounded almost like heavy metal, what with the base of the thumping that the arch resonated with each time a command was put in. At the Science Station further back, it was almost like a symphony of chirps and beeps and buzzes that the computer made out. Then there was Engineering. The sounds it made from the Engineering Officer manning it was the sweetest music to his ears. It was almost like Classical Bajoran, from the First Millennium. Of course, he was a bit biased, being an Engineer himself at one point.

As he sat here listening and feeling, it dawned on him that his back was incredibly uncomfortable. He adjusted once. Twice. Three times! It also occurred to him that his fingers were not on the control panels of each arm of his chair. He opened his eyes, adjusted again to try to get comfortable (his butt was starting to hurt, and he’d only been sitting for a minute, maybe two, tops) and looked at the arms. The control panels on each arm were about 4 centimeters out of reach for his normal resting position. That would have to be fixed, and for the love of the Prophets, so would this damned chair!

He stood up, unable to bear the comfort level (or lack thereof) any longer. “Conn, please set a course for 146 mark 003. Take us on a port elliptical course from present location to destination to avoid insertion of Cardassian space. Make your speed Warp 6.2.” As he put his hand on the Ensign’s shoulder at Conn, he said, “Engage.” 

“Aye, sir,” came the reply from the Ensign. Bane could feel the vibrations change just slightly, spooling up. For a moment, it felt like it was about to become much more, then the vibrations went back to normal. From the viewscreen, everyone could see they were at warp, speeding to their destination with history.

“Lieutenant Lisald,” Bane said. “I hate that chair. Get it replaced, and make sure it fits my body specifications. I’ll be in my office if you need me. Lieutenant Gore, you have the Bridge.”

OFF

Bane Plase, Captain

USS Cygnus, Commanding

On:[Deck 8, Lieutenant Gore’s quarters]“Computer, begin recording personal log Lieutenant Gore ” Gore said. He waited for the familiar chirp to be heard and began dictating his log.“This being my first log as Chief tactical officer of the USS Cygnus. I have transferred over from the USS Calgary during the first shift yesterday and was greeted by Ensign Veenak, a young Romulan officer. It is my observation that I may have made a strong impression on her upon my arrival…” A wry smile formed on his face. “Probably terrified her, more like…Given the opportunity, I hope I can make up for that.”Gore walked towards the bed and reached into the duffel bag that lay there. “She was good enough to indicate me to the officers’ quarters and informed the captain of my arrival” he stated, for the record.From the bag, he produced a copy of ‘Tactical maxims’ by Garth of Izar, and the ‘Complete poetical works of G’trok’. “My first meeting with the Captain went surprisingly well. He seems an agreeable sort. I’ve never served for any length of time with Bajorans before. Looks like that is going to change, according to the manifest. The captain seems to be a good man. Apparently, he’s the spiritual kind, or perhaps spirituality is so deeply ingrained in Bajoran culture that it colours their language?” he wondered as he put down the volumes on his bedside table.“Computer”, he asked. “Lookup and download a translation of the works of Akorem Laan”. The computer chirped and displayed the text of ‘Gaudaal’s Lament’ on a nearby screen. He would return to that later.“At 0800 today, we held the first staff meeting since the transfer of command. It seems that many senior officers have been reassigned, leaving us with a dearth of experienced officers in leadership positions”Reaching again into the bag, he grabbed what looked like a pair of short black sticks held together in a leather holster. Rather than disposing of them, he clipped the holster to his belt. “We are headed into uncharted territory beyond Cardassian space” he stated with a bit of a wince. “I didn’t think I’d be heading back over there so soon, and the prospect is not an altogether very pleasant one”Gore again reached into the bag, this time to produce a small box.“I still have contacts in the Cardassian Union and I am owed a few favours, but reaching out to them would be difficult in my current assignment” he said, opening the box to reveal a collection of data chips.“This should prove an interesting assignment, especially if first contact is a possibility.” A smile returned to his face as he flipped through the chips and found the one he was looking for.Walking to his desk, he inserted the chip into the slot in the terminal. “Computer, download the content from the data chip to my personal files”. The computer chirped, and replicator patterns ‘borrowed’ from the Calgary flashed across the screen. They were common items of the previous generation of Starfleet design, from mugs to bed covers to belt buckles. Collecting antiques and serving in Starfleet were generally incompatible, but this was a palatable compromise, and made for interesting gifts for the right people.Walking to the replicator terminal, he spoke “Replace the default mug by pattern with pattern Goremug2330-1”. The computer chirped. “Zariphean blend tea, hot” he requested. The strongly caffeinated beverage materialised in a cup that, while it still bore the USS Cygnus name and registry, was of the design that was in vogue back when the Calgary’s Ambassador class was launched.Gore took a sip, and, satisfied with the result, concluded his log. “Still on the program for today, getting my physical and conducting my first review of the tactical and security department. This should prove interesting. Computer end log”.With his cup of ‘tea’ in hand, Gore headed out to sickbay where he expected his implants would take a while to explain…OFFLieutenant GoreChief Tacticcal/Security OfficerUSS Cygnus

Bane had been touring the ship on his own for close to an hour at this point, having already met with the Chief Medical Officer and meeting with Lieutenant Anderson, who was now the ships Chief Engineer. That promotion was a necessity rather than merit-based, which of the two, the latter is what he preferred. Bane now found himself deep in the ship and, by the clues he had picked up with his Sherlockian skills (the names of the rooms printed on the doors), he surmised he was in the Science Division of the ship. He couldn’t remember exactly what the name of the Chief Science Officer was, only that Captain Stafford had mentioned that he and the Science Egghead had not been able to form a close relationship.

Bane had been in command of one starship or another since he was a Lieutenant Commander. He had taken command of the Akira-class USS Pegasus-D when his late Captain, Captain Montgomery, had taken a leave of absence from Starfleet for more than a year, way back in 2379. In the 21 years since, he had served as Commanding Officer of four different vessels, including the Cygnus, and so far, in every single instance, he had formed a close relationship with his senior staff on each of those. Sure, over time, some of them had been promoted out from under him and moved on to greater responsibilities, and others had gone back home, but even then, when a new one rotated in, he managed to form a close personal bond with them. Maybe Captain Stafford and the Chief Science Officer had not had the opportunity to form that bond before Stafford had been reassigned.

In any case, Bane stepped into Science Lab 1, looking for the Chief Science Officer.

“Dimethyl sulfoxide.. where the hell is that coming from?” Spangler mumbled to himself, rubbing his neck slightly. He ran the analysis again, and watched as the representation of the atoms rearranged themselves again into the H3C-S-O-CH3 combination that was causing the experiment to fail again. Probably.

He closed the process; he’d spent enough time on the project and had other work to get to now that his lab tech had returned. Albert turned, “We need to get the mass spectrometer calibrated again; the damn thing-” He paused mid-sentence, the person standing inside the lab was certainly not his tech; for one thing the number of pips was all wrong. “Hello. Sir. Can.. I help you with something?”

Plase nodded his head. “Yes Ensign. I’m looking for the Chief Science Officer. I’m Captain Bane, the new Commanding Officer of the Cygnus. You are?” he asked, quickly following that up with another question. “What are you working on?”

“Well, I suppose there isn’t one, erm, Sir.” Albert’s eyes shifted around the room briefly, before returning to the Captain. “But uh.. I suppose I am the next best thing. Acting Chief.” He stared for a moment before smiling awkwardly, hoping the facial expression was a suitable exchange for something useful to say.

For the time being, Plase would ignore that the Ensign ignored the other two questions Bane had asked. “This is primarily a Science vessel, and we don’t even have a Chief Science Officer? What was Starfleet thinking,” he exasperated rhetorically. “How long have you been in this role, Ensign?”

“Well.. sir, I suppose it’s been a few months.” Albert shrugged, “Our last Chief started just before I did, he was a fill in too, until they made it official. That was Lieutenant Lisald.” Spangler nodded slowly, replaying the last few moments with an internal cringe. “I’m, uh.. Ensign Spangler, by the way.”

Bane closed the distance between the two and offered his hand in the traditional human way to shake Ensign Spanglers. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Ensign. Captain Bane Plase. Sorry about that; I am continually surprised at the lack of experience and rank aboard this ship. However,” he said in retrospect, “Things seem to work out very well for this ship and crew. It will just take some getting used to. How is the status and readiness of your department?”

Spangler accepted the hand, completing the gesture as he considered the Captain’s words. “Seems to, yes I suppose so.” Albert looked around the lab, considering how honest to respond. “Well, Sir. We have managed. Ever since I came aboard after the retrofit, we’ve been constantly chasing around issues. Some minor; we’re still finding lab equipment from the retrofit that wasn’t set up correctly.” Albert gave a slight tired shrug, “Or the more serious; we’ve struggled to maintain calibration in our sensor arrays, particularly long range. We’ve gotten by with constant adjustments and some modified probes Lisald and I put together.. but still. Every problem we resolve seems to uncover two more.”

The Captain nodded, looking around with Spangler as he spoke. “It really does seem Starfleet wasn’t thinking very clearly about sending this ship on missions. Perhaps Captain Stafford was fluffing his reports,” he asked rhetorically. Far be it from Bane to bash another Starfleet Captain, but things really seemed off to him ever since coming aboard. Things half done, not done at all, and worst of all, done incorrectly. “Have you gotten with Engineering to see if they can assist with the calibration issues, or is that something specific that needs to be done in house?” Bane also noted that Spangler gave Lisald some credit; Bane would have to remember that.

“There has been some overlap; but Engineering has been busy themselves.” Albert shrugged, “Really it’s our job to maintain them; it’s easier to keep track of discrepancies if we’re the ones correcting them.” He chose not to respond to the Captain’s first comments, or his own struggles rising to the position he found himself in. 

Plase nodded. He admired the Ensign for wanting to take care of his own sensors and systems himself rather than rely on an outside department. That spoke volumes about his work ethic and pride of his position and his department. “Very well then, I will let you to it,” he said, referring to whatever it was Spangler had been working on. “I’ll have a Staff Meeting tomorrow around 0800. Please be there, Conference Room, Deck 1.”

A JP between:

Ensign Albert Spangler, Acting Chief Science Officer, USS Cygnus

&

Captain Bane Plase, Commanding, USS Cygnus

Erik Larsen sat up, choking on the acrid smoke that filled his lungs. He had been shaken back into consciousness by the rumbling of another explosion; mercifully, this one was further away than the one that had disabled the Ascension. He tried to stand, but his balance was severely compromised, and his vision was blurred. Instead, Erik paused and tried to remember what had occurred an indeterminate amount of time ago.

Ascension had been en route to training exercises with the remainder of the Fleet when a coolant failure in the secondary computer core had initiated a cascade failure. At first, Erik believed that they could contain the overload…but it had quickly spread, causing a large explosion that had knocked the ship out of warp and disabled main power. As his vision began to clear, Erik saw that the bridge was in flames and the emergency lighting cast an ominous red glow onto everything. He found the strength to stand, using the chair from Science I for support.

”Damage report!” he called out to nobody in particular.

Andy was still among the land of the living, just crumpled on the floor, the weave of the carpet rough against her cheek. Someone helped her to her feet slowly, waving them away, she looked at her console, gripping it tightly for extra support. Her uniform wrinkled, her hair bun had come partially undone. The readings were grim, red and black lozenges everywhere. 

“Main power and engines offline. Damage control reports fires on decks 15, 16, and 20. Residual power surge on interior surfaces throughout the ship. Casualties on on all decks. Auxiliary power is at 57 percent and falling. And one of the computer cores has suffered terminal fragmentation.” Andy coughed from the acrid smoke of nearby fires. Shiny space age materials were still flammable.  The emergency lighting gave her a deep red tan that made her looked like hel..

“But the warp core containment is stable as is life support. For now, sir.”

”Thank you, Ms. Robinson,” said Erik after another minor coughing fit. It appeared that he and Andy were the only Bridge crew that were not incapacitated…or dead. Erik knelt down next to E’Lor and checked her pulse; it was weak, but steady. The Klingon in her was probably what was keeping her alive. 

In the middle of the bridge, where the Command Chair has once been, stood only a pile of rubble. One of the support beams had collapsed. Jordyn was under there…but right now, Erik needed to prioritize the hundreds of lives remaining on the Ascension. Grief would have to wait. A classic case of the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. He returned to his duty station and examined the status board himself. Subspace communications were still online, but with the power surges and fluctuations in auxiliary power, heaven only knew for how long. Erik accessed the transciever array and spoke.

”This is the USS Ascension to any vessels within range,” he began. “We have suffered a major systems failure and require immediate assistance. Repeat, this is USS Ascension calling for immediate assistance from any vessels within range.” Erik programmed the message for automatic repeat every fifteen seconds…and prayed to God that somebody responded soon. 

Erik turned back toward the Ops console and took a few steps forward. “Robinson, it looks like its up to us to keep things running until help arrives. I need you to be up to the task.”

Andy’s eyes were wide, her pupils fixed as she stared at science officer outlining the gravity of their situation. Her hands and fingers gripped the console edges hard, giving her something hard and solid to hold on to.

“I’ll try.” what else could she say? Her throat felt parched like she was on a hike in the dunes back home and had run out of water. “Sir.”

Erik gave the younger woman a smile that he hoped was reassuring. “You’ll do fine, Ensign.” He stood up as straight as possible, pulling down the front of his uniform tunic  “Computer, this is the Chief Science Officer. Authorization code Larsen four six delta victor. Recognize.”

”Voice print recognized,” stated the Computer in its cool, vaguely feminine monotone.

“I am assuming command of this vessel as of this moment as per Starfleet Regulation 19, Section C. Verify.”

The Computer chirped loudly. “Confirmed. Access to Command Functions granted.”

Peachy. Now all he had to do was not screw it up by getting the crew killed.

Andy swallowed hard and wiped her hands on her trousers to get rid of the sweat. “Okay.  Everything’s fine.” her voice betrayed her true feelings in the moment.

Lieutenant Commander Erik Larsen

USS Cygnus, Executive Officer

Ensign Andy Robinson

USS Cygnus, Assistant Chief Operations Officer

Streaks of light zipped by the USS Cygnus, tell-tale signs of stars, comets and space dust which the ship zoomed past at speeds exceeding the speed of light by several hundred times. The ship and her crew were on their way to seek out new life and new civilizations, going where nobody in the Federation had ever been before. Her crew worked diligently and efficiently, with the thoughts of advancing understanding dancing beautifully in the backs of their minds.

Inside the ship, in the main control room, called the Bridge, a chirp came from the Tactical position. It was the first time it had made any noise during their trek through the stars and comets and space dust over the last two days. The chirp sounded again, and the person manning Tactical, a Klingon named Ensign Jin’tok, finally tapped on it. After a moment of careful consideration, Jin’Tok looked to the back of the Captain’s head. “Captain, I am reading a Federation shuttlecraft just coming into range on our sensors.”

At the front of the bridge, Lieutenant junior grade Lisald Vaat, Chief Operations Officer, manipulated his controls. “Confirmed Captain.” It wasn’t absolutely necessary to make the confirmation verbally, but Lisald did it anyway. He was still trying to show his new Captain that he was, at the very least, up to par.

Bane furrowed his brow at this new information. “I thought we were the first Federation ship out this way,” he said to the room, not to anyone in particular. “Ensign, how far ahead are they, and are they moving? What is their heading,” he asked rapid-fire. This was a new mystery, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. He hoped nobody aboard was in trouble.

Jin’Tok focused his tactical sensors in on the shuttle. “They are not in front of us Captain. They are behind us, and gaining. I show them travelling at warp 8. I believe that is the maximum warp factor for that class of shuttlecraft.”

“Behind us,” Bane asked, turning around and looking at the Klingon proper. “Please confirm, Ensign. Lieiutenant Lisald, please focus your sensors in on that shuttlecraft to help Tactical.”

Neither the Lieutenant nor the Ensign answered; there was no need. Both had their orders and went to work manipulating the ship and her instruments to the Captains will. A moment later, Lisald responded. “Power diverted to aft sensors. 120% of normal.”

“Telemetry coming in much clearer, sir,” Jin’Tok said to one of his best friends on the ship, Lisald. “Captain, confirmed, it is a Federation shuttlecraft, carrying two people. At this range, I cannot discern their species, but it is confirmed a Federation shuttle. Warp signature, data trunk, name and hull number all match up to official Starfleet registry.”

Plase thought for a moment, his finger and thumb stroking his chin. “Alright, helm, all stop. Let the shuttle catch up to us.”

”They’re dropping out of warp,” stated Ensign Grall, the young Bolian pilot of the Shuttlecraft Myrmidon, to his passenger. Thanks to a colossal breakdown in communication, this trip had become necessary; otherwise, the Cygnus would go on its mission without its newly minted Executive Officer. 

Lieutenant Commander Erik Larsen, said XO, made his way from the aft passenger compartment of the sleek Class Two shuttle. “That will certainly make catching them easier,” he deadpanned. “Hail them.“

”Channel open,” said Grall, perhaps a bit too cheerfully. 

“Cygnus, this is the Shuttlecraft Myrmidon. Carrying Lieutenant Commander Erik Larsen, your XO. Please acknowledge.“

Aboard the Cygnus, the crew on the Bridge listened to the hail. “Sir, I thought you said we were going to go without a Executive Officer this mission,” Lisald said, turned in his seat looking at Captain Bane.

“As did I, Lieutenant. This is news to me. Confirm again that shuttle and cross-reference it from the Starfleet database. Mr. Jin’Tok, could this be some sort of trap or ruse by the Cardassians? We are, after all, close to their space.”

Lisald went to work on what the Captain ordered him to. At Tactical, Jin’Tok screwed his face up. “I think everything is a trap or a ruse, Captain. It is certainly well within their capabilities to fake the readings our sensors are picking up. However, I do not read anything else on sensors. We are, in effect, in the middle of nowhere in uncontested space. I recommend caution.”

Lisald seized the moment after Jin’Tok stopped speaking to report his findings. “Sir, the Shuttlecraft Myrmidon is a shuttlecraft that was recently reassigned to Deep Space 9. Prior to that, it was assigned to the USS Ascension, which was lost due to a major systems malfunction. Also, I show that Lieutenant Commander Erik Larson was the Chief Science Officer aboard that vessel.”

The Captain thought for another moment, then made his decision. All the evidence was pointing towards this shuttle being legitimate. Plus, it was not unusal with the recent plight that the Cygnus was suffering. Starfleet was having a hard time apparently and continually failing to communicate properly with the ship. “Open a channel, Mister Lisald.” A second later, the viewscreen came to life. In that instant, he was assured he had made the correct decision. “Hello Commander Larsen. I’m Captain Bane. I must say, this is a surprise.”

”Captain Bane,” said Larsen, inclining his head in greeting. “It was a surprise to me as well; my transport did not arrive at DS9 until after the Cygnus had departed. My orders were to report to the station pending reassignment.” He keyed a short string of commands into the console. “I am transmitting a copy of my transfer orders for your review.”

“Thank you, Commander. Lieutenant Lisald, please see to it that those orders are sent to my office, and see to Commander Larsen’s arrival, billiting and a tour of the ship. Helm, as soon as the shuttle is aboard and secured, please resume our course and speed. Commander, as soon as you come aboard and get your gear in your quarters, please come see me in my office.”

”Understood, Captain. Myrmidon out.”

Twenty-six minutes after closing the channel, Erik was aboard the Cygnus and exiting the turbolift car onto the bridge. He took notice of the positioning of the stations, mentally noting the faces of the officers staffing them; Erik had not had sufficient time to memorize any crew names, but that would come in time. In fact, the only service dossier he had reviewed as of yet was that of Captain Bane. Erik steeled himself, not quite certain what to expect, and pressed the chime outside the Ready Room to announce himself. He was instructed to enter, and when the pneumatic doors swished open Erik entered and approached the desk.

”Erik Larsen reporting for duty, Captain.”

For several moments, Captain Bane let Lieutenant Commander Larsen stand there. He continued to review the file that had been sent over, the transfer orders from Starfleet Command. They all appeared in order. After another moment, he turned the computer display off, the projection of the screen disappearing completely. He then looked carefully at the flaxen-haired officer standing before him. Bane took a deep, audible breath in through his nose, then let it out before speaking. “Generally speaking, I am not in the habit of getting an Executive Officer assigned to me that I had not picked out myself, Mr. Erik Larsen.”

Erik frowned slightly. Not the direction I expected this to take, he thought. It was up to him to turn the tide of this meeting in his favor. “I appreciate your concerns, Sir, and hope that in time I will prove my value to you. As I am sure you are aware, this is my first command level posting.”

Again, Bane stared at the man for several long moments before responding. “Unfortunately, I am not aware. As I mentioned to you in our communication shortly ago, this is all a surprise to me. In the short time between the end of that communication and now, I have been reviewing the transfer orders from Starfleet Command. I know nothing about you, unfortunately. So,” he said, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his arms folding flat on the surface, “tell me about you. Oh, and please Commander, take a seat.”

“Thank you,” Erik responded as he slid into one of the  chair in front of the desk. He crossed his legs,  folded his hands together and placed them on his knee. “I am from the colony world Europa Nova, which  recently became a member of the Federation. I hold a PhD in Physics and a Master’s in Computer Science. I was the leader of the team that wrote the source code for the Astrometrics software upgrade in 2382. I have served on the Olympia, Deep Space Six, the Mordor and the Ascension previously. When the Ascension was launched four weeks ago, we suffered a catastrophic systems malfunction and I was forced to take command under Regulation 19, Section C.“

Plase nodded. “I had to take command of the Pegasus, my first command, unexpectedly too, though certainly under very different circumstances. You say you hold a doctorate in Physics; the Chief of Operations used to be the Chief Science Officer aboard this ship, before my time, and holds a double doctorate in archaeology and, I believe, astronomy. I think you two will get along well.” Bane leaned back in his chair. “Do you feel you are ready for command-level responsibilities?”

”I’m sure he…or she…and I will have plenty to discuss. To answer your question, yes I do believe I am ready for the challenge of helping to run a ship. I have served under several outstanding Executive Officers, and I believe I have a sound understanding as to the duties of that position. I am eager to please and I get along well with just about everybody.“ Erik exhaled a long breath through his nose. “I understand that you don’t like feeling that you had somebody forced on you, Sir. I will do my best to prove that Starfleet Command made a good call.“

“I appreciate that, Commander.” Bane meant it. “Do you have any questions for me, about me, about the crew or the ship?”

”I will get to know all of you, given time. I do have one significant question, though. What is our current mission?”

Plase had to smile. That was a significant question. “Excellent question. I’m sure you know that no Federation vessel has ever been out this way when you set course in your shuttle to chase us down. Command has heard reports of a space-faring civilization on the relative bac side of Cardassian space somewhere. We are to find them, survey and investigate them, and if the reports are true they are warp-capable, then we will make First Contact. The only intelligence we have at this time is that they are back here somewhere, and they call themselves ‘The Commonwealth.’ I’ve asked Starfleet Command for more information, and even asked the Cardassian Central Command for more, but so far, we’ve been met with silence. And I tell you, that silence is deafening, especially from Starfleet.”

”Well,” said Erik with a smirk, “I guess there’s nothing like baptism by fire.“ He leaned forward slightly. “This is what enticed me to join Starfleet in the first place…here I was, a University Professor on an independent world just opening itself up to the greater galaxy, when a Starfleet delegation told me tales of the wonders beyond my solar system. I was hooked.“

Plase smiled again. He was beginning to like this Lieutenant Commander Erik Larsen. “Seems you and I have something in common then.” The puzzled look on the Commanders face was the reward that Bane was looking for. “You were a teacher, and I love to teach.” He sat forward again, this time his body language not as closed off and rigid, but much more friendly and welcoming. “I am thrilled I get to be your mentor and teacher in the finer points of command. Maybe someday in the not too distant future, I’ll get to welcome you to your first command.”

”If that’s the path my career takes,“ said Erik, relaxing visibly. “Whatever the future holds, I am ready for it. Respectfully, Sir.“

“Of course.” Sitting back in his chair again, and never taking his eyes off Lieutenant Commander Larsen, Bane said, “Computer, please show Lieutenant Commander Erik Larsen as Executive Officer, USS Cygnus, as of this time and stardate. Authorization Bane, Omega Zeta 4-7-9, Authorize.”

The computer chirped, then responded. “Confirmed. Lieutenant Commander Erik Larsen is now the Executive Officer, USS Cygnus, security clearance level 9.”

Bane stood and held his hand out. “Welcome aboard the Cygnus, Commander.”

Erik took the offered hand and shook it firmly. “Thank you, Captain. I look forward to the adventure.“

“As do I. We have a big mission and one hell of an adventure in store for us up ahead. I find it incredibly useful and very advantageous that the senior officers on the ship know each other. I recommend over the next few days you take the time to get to know the rest of the senior officers, and as well as you can, most of the junior officers and crew before we get to the meat and potatoes of our mission.”

Meat and potatoes. That reminded Erik of the rumbling in his stomach, and of the fact that breakfast had consisted of a double espresso in the Replimat at DS9 and nothing else. “I fully intend to do just that. But, lunch first.“

“Of course. Dismissed, Commander.”

Erik Larsen, Lieutenant Commander

USS Cygnus, Executive Officer

&

Bane Plase, Captain

USS Cygnus, Commanding

The progress bar crawled across the screen, seemingly move slower and slower as it progressed. The anticipation Albert felt was only surpassed by his frustration. So far the Science department’s efforts had accomplished was to determine that there was a ‘problem’, and that the Acting Chief hated sensors. He stood before the auxiliary sensor control station; a duplicate of the science console on the bridge to serve as back-up sensor control and troubleshooting efforts, as such. 

The console chirped happily as the bar filled and disappeared, causing Albert to blink for the first time in almost two minutes. And nothing; the screen remained blank. His eye twitched, but his facial expression remained blank. This continued for a full minute before his head slumped into the control panel, which the console responded to with another happy chirp. Spangler’s head shot up, as the scan results started reading out on the screen. He giggled almost manically, self-aware enough to be truly glad the lab was empty.  

For the entirety of his time aboard the Cygnus, the long range sensor arrays required re-calibration after just about every other use. The primary sensor pallets on both lateral arrays had already been replaced since the recent retrofit, but the problem only became different not better. It was a drain on personnel and resources, and had hindered their research capability considerably. This had led to a higher dependence on probes, which themselves took time to program and maintain. The department’s staffing levels were also less than optimal, to say nothing of the rotation of junior officers in the chief position. Both of these led to all their assigned experiments as well as ship derived research was behind schedule. Add that to a less than stellar reputation he’d managed thusfar, and the Ensign staring at the readout was more than aware of the challenge in front of him. 

A final deeper chirp signified the end of the scan results, which Albert re-read and once more after that, cautiously optimistic. This was the second time he had ran the same scan, a long range geological scan of an asteroid just inside scanner range. The data matched. The grin on his face only grew, not used to these things going well. His mind went back to the mission at hand, and brought up sensor logs for the area of space they were enroute to explore. He queued up the same scans that had been performed for a second run, and hoped for the best. 

OFF:

A un-sensor-ed post by everyone’s favorite scienctific malcontent; 

Albert Spanger, Ensign                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 Acting Chief Science Officer, USS Cygnus

Not a day had gone by since Lisald had agreed to Captain Stafford and Commander Pope taking over the Chief of Operations post on the U.S.S. Cygnus that he didn’t have trouble with managing the resources of the ship. Someone in some section of every department on the ship wanted more resources. Tactical wanted more power for their targeting scanners. Security wanted more power for their forcefields. Engineering wanted more power to the ODN network. Waste Reclamation wanted more power to handle the backlog in their solid waste containers. Science wanted more power for sensors. The Executive Officer wanted more power to the…well, Lisald couldn’t remember right now, but he knew the XO wanted it five minutes ago, naturally. The Captain wanted more power for, well, everything. 

In order to give every system on the ship power to operate at 100% peak efficiency, the warp core and generators on the Cygnus needed to generate 2,847 Cochrane-units of power. The Warp core could serve out a maximum of 1,500 Cochrane-units when operating at 100% efficiency, according to what Lieutenant Anderson had told him, and the warp core never operated at that peak, main for safety and longevity reasons. The two power generators could give an additional 745 Cochrane-units of power, generally speaking for emergency operations only, but that power could be allocated into the power distribution network if needed. That was a grand total of 2,245 Cochrane-units of power the ship could generate at maximum at any given time, leaving a deficit of 602 Cochrane-units of power. Hence the need for someone to be there to allocate power as needed, or as the XO or Captain demanded.

Lisald cocked his head to the side for a moment before straightening it back out. It wasn’t fair of him to think that about the Captain wanting power for everything. During their staff meeting yesterday, he specifically stated he wanted all available power shunted to the Science Department for their scanning and research. Lisald was jealous of Albert; Lisald yearned for his days back in Science.

The order clear and specific, the young Bajoran Lieutenant junior grade went about pulling power. The easiest was from the shields. The power to the shields was incredible and immense. He dropped the power allocation from them. During normal operations, 50% of maximum power was allocated to the shields. Lisald went ahead and dropped that power allocation to 35%, giving him an additional 172 millicochrane-units of power for Ensign Spangler and his Department. He quickly sent a note to Lieutenant Gore letting him know of the change. Lisald was sure Gore wouldn’t mind right now. In the case of Red, or even Yellow alert, the ships’ computers would automatically allocate 100% of maximum power to the shields and phaser systems. 

Thinking of the phaser and torpedo launchers, he also took 15% of available power from those too, though that only yielded him 9 millicochrane-units, which he funneled into Science.

He thought about taking power from the warp nacelles, impulse engines and thrusters, but Lisald thought better of it. He didn’t want the first impression of the maneuverability of the Cygnus being sluggish to the new Captain and Executive Officer, so he left those operating at their current efficiency and power levels, 80 percent in normal operations mode. He did, however, reduce the power available to the fire suppression systems to 50% of output. This was a First Contact mission, and an exploratory mission. In his estimation, the chances of an uncontrolled fire on the ship seemed extremely remote. He made sure to let Engineering know about this, just in case the unthinkable happened. Another 2 millicochrane-units went to the Science Department.

Starfleet regulation stated that communications systems must, at all times, be powered with optimal power flow, not to fall blow a minimum 99% of efficiency. As it turned out, that is what the power efficiency was running at with communications, so Lisald bypassed that system to look for additional power. So far, the power output to Science was now at 94%, much higher than the traditional 80% that he kept it at. He imagined if Mr. Spangler ever knew that he was only operating at 4/5ths of full efficiency, he would pop an EPS conduit in his head or something. The vision flashed in his head of Spangler’s head doing just that, which was quite amusing.

Even though Lisald had been working on this now for the better part of four hours, he could not afford to lose concentration. The Captain wanted his Science Department working at peak efficiency, and Lisald wanted to be sure that his friend and former Assistant had the tools necessary to not just complete the task ahead of him, to to excel at it. Refocusing, he came across the transporter systems. Again, per Starfleet regulation, the ship had to maintain at least two crew transporters, the emergency transporters, and one cargo transporter, along with the shuttlebay and at least three shuttles in operation. With the extra shuttle that Commander Larsen brought aboard, as well as the extra runabout that Lieutenant Anderson brought aboard, they were flush with extra craft. He shut down the power to four transporter rooms (there were seven total) as well as the ship-based power feeding the all of the shuttles plus two extra they had, sans the three required by regulation. He sent a note to Ensign Robinson letting her know to oversee the powering down of the transporter systems and all of the support craft they could get away with. 

The Chief of Operations would have loved to shut down one of the three main computers, but that was strictly prohibited by Starfleet. If he could, that would give him almost as much power to play with as shutting down the transporter systems. Alas, he kept looking. He was getting close to his goal of 100% power to all of the Science Department though. Only another 3% to go.

Vaat took another look at the life support system. He initially didn’t even look at this system, but being so close to his goal, it was an easy one. He knew he didn’t want to shut down power to any of the decks, even though Deck 18 was only for the Enlisted Crewmen. If he could figure out a way to berth them (almost 100 of them), he could shut down power of every kind to that deck. Lights, heat, gravity, air, replicating systems, sonic showers, everything. After working on the logistics of doing that for the better part of half an hour, he gave up. He just couldn’t make it work without severe disruption to more than just those 100 crewmen.

He was able to reduce some of the crew support systems in order to push power into the Sciences, but only just a little. He shut down turbolift 4, 7 and 9 (being sure to send a message to the whole crew about the temporary shutdown). That got him to 99% maximum power for the Sciences. Just one more percent, and he didn’t know yet where to find it.

Lisald reviewed what he had done already. He had pulled the vast majority of the power from shields. He had gotten power from internal forcefield generation. He had taken power from the phasers and torpedo launcher systems. He took power from the fire suppression system. He took power from the transporters and extra shuttle maintenance systems and power from the crew support system, specifically a couple of the less-used turbolift cars and shafts.

The only other system he could pull power from which didn’t have a complete bearing on this mission was the Tractor Beam systems. He thought he should probably leave the forward, aft and shuttlebay tractors at their normal operating power needs and turned off the starboard, aft, dorsal and ventral tractor beams to get the final amount of power needed for the Science Department. Once he had done so, the power allocation was at 101.3 percent of normal in Science. 

Smiling, he hit his commbadge. “Bridge to Captain Bane. Sir, maximum power has been allocated to the sensor systems and to the Science Department.”

=/\= Good work Lieutenant. Bane out.=/\= came the short reply. It was all Lisald needed.

Lisald hit his badge again. “Lisald to Spangler. Al, your department is now powered to 101.3%. We are really looking forward to all you discover for us.”

OFF

Lieutenant junior grade Lisald Vaat

Chief of Operations

USS Cygnus

The ambient lighting dulled slightly with a flicker, before settling in slightly brighter than before. Spangler and the technician assisting him stopped mid-task, simultaneously glancing up and around the room before making uncertain eye-contact with one another. Albert was the first to break the silence, “What the hell did you do?” The tech raised  his hands in front of him, with a vague ‘wasn’t me’ expression. The sensor console came alive, interrupting with the familiar chirp. Both men looked at the display apprehensively, before the Ensign’s comm badge interrupted the moment.

=/\=“Lisald to Spangler. Al, your department is now powered to 101.3%. We are really looking forward to all you discover for us.”=/\=

Spangler tapped the device, “Thank you, Lieutenant. We’ll be popping breakers in no time.” He made eye contact with the tech again, both shrugging. The ship had just recently come into range to make complete use of the long range sensors, to a resolution which would give them something useful. He looked back to the console, which with the boost in power things were moving much quicker. Albert’s jaw dropped slowly, as he began to make sense of the information speeding past. “Oh crap.” 

 “I need two Class IX probes readied with sensor pallets configured. Let me know when the calibration is confirmed.” The words came without his eyes moving an inch nor did Albert wait for a response before passing through the lab doors. He knew the probes were ready, but given the situation, he couldn’t afford to not know for sure. The sensor console in the lab was more than capable, and the fact it wasn’t on the bridge appealed greatly to him, but Spangler knew this situation was best handled from that very location. 

The bridge doors opened, Albert slowed to a reasonable pace just before passing through. He went straight to the Science station, oblivious to activity already going on in the room. The Ensign focused on maintaining a neutral expression as he hurried to pull up the information that was coming in. He didn’t bother referring to the data they already had; even if it was correct, which seemed unlikely now, it was already running through his mind. At least one space-faring civilization to be specific. And specifically, the fact that there was now nothing of the sort. It was all gone. The lifeform analysis cluster had completed it’s work, and found nothing. “Double crap.” Albert whispered to himself.

The Ensign looked up, realizing he was now not only the bearer of bad news, but he didn’t have a good explanation for why either.  

“Triple crap.”

OFF:

A post that I almost named “Triple Crap”, by yours truly,

Ensign Albert Spanger, Acting Chief Science Officer, USS Cygnus

(Dictated, not read)

Instead of sitting behind his desk on Deck 3, Lisald instead was leaning against the bulkhead with his left shoulder. He didn’t necessarliy believe in pomp and circumstance, and certainly didn’t believe in all of the formality and rigors of military institution; he was a Scientist by education, training and trade, of course. The only reason he was in the position he was in was because of the previous Commanding Officer of the Cygnus, Captain Stafford. He had saw something in Lisald that put him into the yellow uniform. What that was, Lisald wasn’t quite sure. Yet, here he was, welcoming aboard his very first Assistant Chief of any department he had ever been in.

“Tell me about yourself,” Lisald said lightly. He didn’t want this to feel like an interview or anything. He wanted it to be a conversation, light and informal.

What was there to tell? Andy was still gathering her wits about her.  In wisdom only known to Starfleet Admirals or faceless back-office bureaucrats, Andy had found herself and her belongings, thrown into a transporter beam on the Ascension and whisked across the quadrant to a new ship and a new crew.  She was only just beginning to get used to the old one.  

“I’m from Benecia, sir. I recently graduated from the Academy, so I’m still getting my spacelegs.” She was getting good at these introduction speeches.  

“Please, I am a scientist first, Starfleet officer second. Whenever we aren’t around someone higher ranking than me, you can call me by my given name, Vaat. Or, if it is more comfortable to you, Lisald. Congratulations on your graduating,” Lisald said. “Forgive me, apparently Starfleet didn’t give us any notification that you or Lieutenant Commander Larsen were coming. I bet you are incredibly excited about your first posting being in the Assistant Chief position instead of stuck on the Shuttlebay Control Room,” he said with a slight smile. “Fast tracking it to command, you are!”

Andy’s eyes brightened at that last bit “Command? That sounds exciting.” she said. In truth, the shuttlebay control booth was okay too. Nice and quiet, not much responsibility.  I mean, she was out here zipping around faster than the speed of light. Any job was all exciting when thought of in that context compared to sitting through another afternoon dust storm on Benecia.  This Assistant Chief position worried her slightly, that meant being in charge. Hopefully in the middle of the night; she could handle that. Probably.. The recent computer failure on the Ascension had placed her momentarily in the spotlight. Andy had performed okay, but she was acutely aware that her confidence and trust in her abilities to react to crisis had taken a knock.

“I’m looking forward to it.” Andy responded, not entirely convinced of herself. 

Lisald smiled. “Excellent! So am I,” he revealed. “As I mentioned, I am a scientist by education and training. Before I was Chief of Operations, I was Chief Science Officer on this ship, before the Captain saw it fit to transfer me over to Operations. That being said, I will likely rely on you a great deal, especially in your expertise in Engineering. I was working with the previous Chief Engineer to bring me up to speed, but there is still quite the sizable gap in my knowledge.”

Andy was no engineer herself. She knew the difference between a ram scoop and a warp core, but her expertise lay in how the systems interacted with each other, balancing the power flows, sub system connections, cargo storage priorities, etc.  “I’ll help where I can, sir.” she answered.

The Lieutenant smiled. “Please, call me Vaat when we aren’t with anyone higher ranking than me,” he reminded her. He was much more interested in creating a positive, collaborative, friendly relationship with Andy than he was upholding military dogma. “And sounds perfect. Uh, do you have any questions for me, anything you’d like to know about me, this department, or this ship?” He figured he would give her the opportunity to feel him out and gain some knowledge easier than he had gotten it when he came aboard years ago.

“What’s the Captain like? As a person?” Andy asked.  Would the person sitting in the center seat charge headlong unthinking into battle, try to outrun a galactic storm front, or spend a really long time on a bio-survey mission.

To be fair, Lisald really didn’t know much about the Captain, beyond the last week he had been aboard. “Not much, honestly. He has only been aboard for a about a week. I do know that he has been a Captain for 15 years, and has been a Commanding Officer for six years beyond that, so I imagine he thinks things through and has a knack for making the right decision more often than the wrong one. Space is a dangerous place, full of everything that wants to kill you and me. He has done pretty well so far. When we had our Staff Meeting the other day,” Lisald continued, “he made sure to get everyone’s input to make sure we were on the correct course of action, and to make sure that everyone knew everything there was to know about our mission. He seems to really value the thoughts, ideas, opinions and perspectives that each member of the crew bring to the ship.” It was then that Lisald realized he liked Captain Bane. “You knew Commander Larsen from the Ascension, correct? What is he like?”

Andy thought about Larsen. Her interactions with him one on one had been sparse.  In the turbolift that one time, bonding briefly over an alien stimulating beverage, and then again in the crucible of the cascade aftermath. Surrounded by fire, debris, and bodies, he seemed capable. Then again Andy wasn’t judging him back then. Amid the mess, the two shipmates had shared the hopeful grin, wide eyes, and clenched smile that said ‘I hope this works…’ without actually saying a word.  Hardly the ideal scenario for judging command or personal skills.

“He’s good in a crisis” Andy said, smiling wryly.

The Lieutenant thought there was a great deal more that she wasn’t saying, but figured the better part of valor would be to let that one go. For now. “That’s good,” he eventually said. “Goodness knows if ever we come to a crisis, we will need it.” He shoved off the wall and stood at his full height. “If you would, please have diagnostics run on all six of the transporter rooms and the cargo bay transporters as well. Once you have seen that started, please run a full systems test on all of the shuttles and the runabout. With the extra shuttle and runabout, we will need to determine if there is enough room to berth them, and if so, we want full run-ups done on them and have them officially assigned to this ship.” Lisald then smiled at her. “I have to get to the bridge to check in, but once I am done there, I will come find you and we will knock out whatever is left together. Talk to you soon,” he said, both of them exiting the room and going opposite ways.

Ensign Andy Robinson

Assistant Chief Operations Officer

USS Cygnus

&

Lieutenant (jg) Lisald Vaat

Chief Operations Officer, USS Cygnus

It had been almost four months to the very day since he had last been face to face with the door he was looking at. Last time he was here, he had gotten the official nod from Commander Pope that he would be doing the remote extension command courses through Starfleet Academy. It had been a proud day for Lisald, and he still got butterflies in his stomach because of it (and truth be told, because of his attraction to Pope, which still resonated today). 

Now however, he was standing here because he had been called here. Lisald had only the briefest of encounters since the new Executive Officer, Lieutenant Commander Erik Larsen, had come aboard. All he knew about the man was that he was a Science Officer prior to being posted to the Cygnus and that he was good to have around in a crisis. At least, that was according to Ensign Robinson, who had served with him. As the doors slid open, Lisald more or less just stuck his head in, far enough that it looked like a floating, disembodied head. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

Erik looked up and saw Lt. Lisald’s seemingly detached head almost floating in the doorway and stifled a laugh. “Yes, Mister Lisald. Please come in.“ Erik stood and gestured toward the empty chairs placed before the desk. “Would you care for something to drink? I have fresh brewed coffee, non-replicated.“

Lisald smiled and made his way into the room when the Executive Officer invited him in, then eyes got wide at the offer of coffee. “I’ve never had coffee before, replicated or otherwise, sir. What is it like,” he asked, lowering himself into the offered chair as he responded.

”As most describe it, coffee is an acquired taste,” said Larsen in a matter-of-fact tone. “I tend to drink mine noticeably stronger than most. You are certainly welcome to try a cup if you like.”

Lisald shrugged his right shoulder. “Sure, why not!” A few moments later, he was handed a hot up of coffee, the steam coming off of it visibly. Gingerly, he brought it up to his lips and blew on it softly several times before sipping it. Almost immediately, he gagged. “Oh, the Prophets,” he exclaimed, both from the disgusting bitter taste as well as from the scorched tongue. “This is terrible!” He looked up at the Executive Officer, and realizing he may have offended the second-highest ranking officer on this ship, he amended, “Uh, sir.”

Erik had to stifle a laugh when he observed the Lieutenant’s reaction to coffee. Truth be told, it was sort of what he had expected to see; most Bajorans Erik had known in his life had found coffee quite unpleasant. Still, as he had stated earlier, it is an acquired taste. “I don’t stand on ceremony very much, Lieutenant. You can call me Erik when we are off the bridge if you would like. Your decision.” Erik folded his hands on the desk. “Tell me, Mister Lisald…are you happy in your current position?”

The Bajoran had a profound sense of deja vu. Just yesterday, he had said the exact same thing to Ensign Robinson about not standing on formality when not in front of higher-ranking officers. It seemed the Executive Officer and he had a lot in common. As for the question…”Eh…” he said and trailed off. He had hoped that Larsen would change the topic, but after an awkward silence (maybe a solid second, two if he was being generous), Lisald answered. “Not really, sir. I’m a scientist. I got into Starfleet to be able to pursue my passion, Archaeology and Anthropomorphic Studies. I came aboard as the ships Archaeologist, and before I knew it, I was the Chief Science Officer. Commander Pope, your predecessor, said she thought I would eventually be a good command track officer, and after some consideration, I felt like that is what I wanted. As a result, I got put in this position.” He took a breath, then continued. “I mean to say, I like the job, but I wish I was back in Science again. Many a time I’ve envied Ensign Spangler and the role he now holds.”

Erik listened to his younger colleague intently. ”I appreciate your candor, Mister Lisald. I asked you mainly because I have reviewed your service dossier, and your scientific credentials are impressive. I just want to have peace of mind knowing that those that report to me are in positions that not only play to their strengths but that satisfy their needs as well.” Erik let out a long breath through his nose before continuing. “Five weeks ago, I was making plans to take the Bridge Officer’s Test. Then the disaster of the Ascension relaunch happened, and here I am second in command on one of our premier scientific platforms. Sometimes we get thrust into positions that we are forced to be ready to take.”

Lisald dropped his eyes. “Yes sir.” He wasn’t entirely sure he believed it. “When Commander Pope offered to help me through my command track extension program, I thought that maybe someday I would be in command of this ship.” He then blushed, stepping over the line. “Ah, sorry Commander. With you and Captain Bane here now, it is, I think, a permanent thing. If I request a transfer, or get transferred, chances are high that I would go to another Operations position, and it could be on any ship. A Captain ship. A Man o’ War. A Cruiser. It could even be on a Logistical Support Ship. I’m interested in the science! What are the chances I would go to another science ship, or get put in a position, like you, where I could be on one of the leading science ships in the Fleet?”

Give me a PADD with a built in calculator and I could tell you the exact probability of that happening, Erik thought to himself. “The Captain has vastly more experience than myself, and I think both of us can learn from his command style. I am willing to advocate for you, to help you get a position in the future that you want. One that meets your needs and those of the Fleet at the same time.”

Lisald looked back up to his Executive Officer. He really did like Erik Larsen already, even though they had just really met. “I sincerely appreciate that, Commander.” He still couldn’t come to terms with calling him ‘Erik’ as he had said. Lisald now understood how Ensign Robinson felt, now that the shoe was on the other foot. Feeling it was time to change the topic of conversation from himself, Lisald asked, “How about you? I’ve heard you are useful to have in a crisis. What did you do on the Ascension before you became Executive Officer here?”

”I was the Chief Science Officer,” Erik explained, leaning back slightly in his chair. “I don’t know how much you know about the Ascension’s history, but we took a trip through time…a zero-point device ruptured the fabric of spacetime and pulled us into a temporal rift, displacing us ten years into the future. We were given a new ship, and suffered a critical malfunction that disabled us and caused a massive hull breach. Ensign Robinson really earned her wings that day, I tell you. We were able to stabilize systems enough to get the warp core ejected and most of the crew to the escape pods.”

Lisald furrowed his brow. Despite being a scientist, Temporal Mechanics still confused him. “Wait, you’ve been to the future, or you are living in the future now? I had not heard anything about your ship, other than it was lost.”

”I came aboard the first iteration of the Ascension in 2389, and we were displaced a few months later,” explained Erik. “So I am living in the future. I would show you my calculations as to how it happened exactly, but that has been classified. Sigma Eight clearance and higher.”

Lisald’s eyes grew wide. “That is higher than the Captain’s clearance,” he exclaimed, truly amazed. Lisald also had the sneaky suspicion that he had already been told too much. But damn was he curious! “Still, incredible that you are living in the future. Was it hard to make the adjustment of being alive again? How did your family react when Starfleet told them you and the rest of your crew had been found?”

”Starfleet was, naturally, suspicious,” began Erik. “We were intercepted and boarded by Titan, whose crew verified our identities and escorted us to the nearest starbase. After extensive debriefing, life began to normalize for us. And from a personal standpoint…my home colony joined the Federation while I was away, and two of my six brothers are in Starfleet now; it’s funny to see them in uniform, looking all grown up, when the last time I had seen them they were struggling with middle school algebra.”

Lisald had never heard of the Titan, but he was glad that ship was there when the crew of the Ascension needed them. After all, it led to the Commander being here on the Cygnus now. “I bet,” Vaat said, smiling. He was positive there was a great deal more left unsaid, about missing all those years and all that life missed. Maybe over time, Larsen would share more. Until then, Vaat would not push him. “I appreciate you calling me here to get to know me, sir. It’s been nice, like some sort of barrier or wall has been taken down a little.”

Erik gave his younger colleague a broad smile  “I was thinking the same thing, Mister Lisald. Unless you have anything else, you’re dismissed. Thank you for taking time to meet.”

The Bajoran officer stood, curtly nodded his respect. “Sir,” he said, in way of salutations and thanks, turned on his heel, and headed back to the Bridge.

OFF

Lieutenant (junior grade) Lisald Vaat

Chief Operations Officer

USS Cygnus

&

Lieutenant Commander Erik Larsen

Executive Officer

USS Cygnus

The doors to the turbolift opened, spilling Ensign Albert Spangler onto the Bridge. Out of the corner of his eye, Bane saw it happen. He also noted that the Chief Science Officer had seemed to be in a hurry, but Bane being so new to the ship, he guessed it was the way Ensign Spangler walked when getting to the Bridge. Then came the muttering from the back of the bridge at Science Station 1 that really got Bane’s attention. “Triple crap,” said the Ensign.

Turning around in his chair, Bane asked, “A problem, Mr. Spangler?” It was a fair question, given the spilling onto the bridge, the hurried walk to his station, and then the mutterings.

Hearing his name snapped him back to attention, bringing the room into focus. He still hoped maybe there was a different Spangler he didn’t know about. Probably not. “Sir.. Well.” Albert began, honestly unsure how to answer that question. “We’ve completed initial high resolution scans of the target area.” 

The Science Chief began arranging the data in way more appealing to the eye, before transferring the visual representation of the area of space they would be investigating onto the viewscreen for all to see. “This.. Is where we area headed.” He tapped out a few commands, bringing on a detailed overlay which was essentially the same as the previous image, “This is from the lifeform analysis cluster; shows density of life forms on terrestrial bodies.” 

Plase looked at the display for several moments, trying to make heads or tails of it. He was not a scientist by training, but an Engineer and Security Officer. “Seems to me nothing changed. What does this mean,” he asked for clarification.

“Well, that is.. essentially correct.” Albert was hoping the Captain would make the conclusion on his own, simply to avoid having to be the one to explain. He continued, “Simply put; our scans, found.. nothing, Sir. At all. The advanced civilization or civilizations we were expecting.. are not home. Or.. non-existant.” 

Bane thought for a moment. It wasn’t like the Federation to have incorrect data. He knew from experience it would be detected, detected again, then detected with multiple instruments from many different angles long before they would send a ship out this way. In addition to that, the Cardassians had given them, albeit limited, intelligence for a race, or races, out this way. “Could they be using some sort of cloak or masking technology to hid themselves?” As the words came out of his mouth, he knew that wouldn’t be the case either. “Oh, there is nothing,” he said, fully getting it for the first time. “I do not see any flora or fauna readings at all. Is that what I’m seeing, Ensign?”

Spangler modified the display slightly, with a couple planets only somewhat changing in appearance. “Limited potential here..” He shifted the view to said locations, “but I wouldn’t hold out much hope for flower picking.”

Damn, Bane thought. He was so pumped up about meeting a new race and learning about them. So was the crew. “Alright, thank you, Mr. Spangler. Please keep scanning the planet and the system. If there is anything at all that points in the way of life, any life at this point,” he amended, “Please let me know.” He turned to helm. “Mr. Chx, when we are close enough to the system, drop us out of warp, head for that planet and get us in orbit.”

OFF:

A post of sound and fury signifying nothing, by yours truly;

Bane Plase, Captain, USS Cygnus, Commanding

Ensign Albert Spangler, Acting Chief Science Officer, USS Cygnus

“Captain, we have dropped out of warp at the edge of the system, per your orders,” Ensign Chx reported from the Conn.

“Thank you, Ensign. Steady as she goes, put us in orbit of, well, the world that would be best suited for life,” Bane said, not sure what to say exactly. He had some preconceived notions of what he had wanted to accomplish with this mission, but ever since Spangler told him there was nothing here, he wasn’t sure exactly what to do.

“Sir, the third planet is a class-M planet, a lot like Bajor. Just a little smaller,” Lisald said from Operations. “It has several oceans, several continents and is geologically active.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Bane said. 

For several moments, the crew conducted their tasks. It was broken by Ensign Chx. “Standard orbit has been established, Captain.”

“Good,” he said, standing and making his way over to the Operations station with Lieutenant Lisald. “How is it looking down there?”

Lisald shook his head. “Same as Ensign Spangler reported, Captain. However, there is something extremely curious. I am reading an extensive planetary transportation network, almost a thousand cities greater than 200 square kilometers big, vast networks of irrigation. Sir, based on these readings, we should see a population of more than 10 billion. Yet, there isn’t a single lifeform on the planet, all the way down to the single-celled variety. No insects, no plants, no animals, no people. It’s like everything vanished in an instant.”

The Captain furrowed his brow, unsure of what to make of the situation. The best thing he could think of right now was to send an away team down to the surface. He looked over to his Executive Officer. It would be right up his alley, formerly being a Chief Science Officer, and now a perfect opportunity to gain some command experience. “Commander, assemble an Away Team and go to the surface,” he ordered. “Find out what is going on down there. We need answers.”

OFF

Bane Plase, Captain

USS Cygnus, Commanding

Lost in thought about what had transpired on the Bridge a bit earlier with Ensign Spangler, Bane stepped around the corner and smashed into someone. Catching him completely off guard, he stumbled backwards before losing balance and crashed to the deck, flat on his back. “Oof!” came the involuntary utterance from his lips.

Ravi was hurrying – she needed to get to Sickbay but had been delayed in her quarters when she had taken an incoming call from her parents, who were checking if she had got to the Calgary alright, knowing hers would have been a journey with lots of changing ships and so on.  She had known she would be tight for time but she missed them both and knew how difficult it was likely to have been to get through on the Federation Channels ship to ship and to get the time changes right as well, being as they were so far away by now, in the opposite direction of the Universe themselves.  She couldn’t have imagined they would have been able to get through but they did and the least she could do was spare them a little while to at least say hi and exchange reassurances that all was well on both sides.

Inevitably it had taken longer than the time she had to spare, which had been very little to start with but she was happy to have spoken to them and now was half-running (she knew it wasn’t allowed but didn’t want to be late either.  She hadn’t met the CMO yet and she didn’t need this first impression to be a problem. 

As she hurried around a curve in the corridor, she looked back as she thought she heard someone behind call out, so by the time she glanced back, dismissed the idea and turned to face front again, the split seconds this took had landed her into the path of someone who was clearly even less focussed that she was.  

Staring in disbelief for a moment, Ravi leaped forward to the man she had collided with, leaning over him to see if he was okay and holding out a hand to help him  up, spluttering apologies.  

“Are you okay?” she asked, trying to help the tall man to sit up.  “I am so sor……..” her words died in her throat as she recognised who it was she had literally floored.  “Spirits defend me!” she exclaimed involuntarily and once she realised those words had escaped aloud, she clapped a hand over her mouth in double horror!  

Looking up at the person that had plowed him into the deck, “Sweet Prophets,” he exclaimed. “I’m honestly not sure if I’m ok. Certainly had the wind knocked out of my lungs. Help me up,” he asked holding his hand up to her. He didn’t want to be seen on his back by anyone else.

“Should you get your breath before getting up, Sir?” she asked, instinctively checking his pulse and pupils as she carefully took the insistent hand he was holding up and helping him up anyway.  “I mean medically, Sir.  If you’re winded and perhaps shocked?” she ventured, struggling to retrieve her medcorder from her first aid kit which had swung itself to the floor in the collision and was now a little out of reach since she couldn’t let go of her impatient patient in case he might not be stable on his feet yet. 

Bane blinked for a moment, the time needed for him to recognize that the person over him was the half-Cardassian Assistant Chief Medical Officer from the briefing yesterday. It took him a moment longer to figure out what he wanted to say. The best he could come up with, “You’re the Doctor, Doctor. You tell me.” Something else that occurred to him was how warm and soft her hands were. It was exactly opposite what he knew of the Cardassian people. They always had cold, clammy hands.

Ravi couldn’t tell what it was that the CO was wondering about but it did seem like he was hesitant, perhaps surprised about something and she wasn’t seeing that as any foreseeable advantage going forward.  She got him as far as sitting and then was able to reach her med-kit.  She ran her checks and found he wasn’t suffering from any after-effects medically so she confirmed this to him and offered to help him up to his feet.

“I can’t find anything lasting wrong Sir, and apart from the odd bruise which might appear, I feel happy to help you back to standing without causing anything untoward”.  She confirmed and stood, offering him her hand, linking her forearm with his to the elbow, allowing a full and stable assisted tug to balance him as he rose.

“This really isn’t how I wanted our first meeting to work out Sir.  I am so sorry.  Do you feel okay?”  Ravi asked as the CO rose and became his tall, impressive vertical self again.

Bane smoothed out his tunic and slacks, rubbing his hands from his chest down to his hips, then around to his backside, making sure that it was presentable (and also checking out to make sure his body wasn’t battered, not that he didn’t trust the Doctor. “I’m, fine thank you. I am sorry too. My mind was on the Away Team down on the planet and I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. Are you ok,” he asked?

“Oh yes Sir, Thank you, I’m fine.  Are the Away Team in any trouble?  I probably shouldn’t be asking things like that but I was wondering if you might need a medical team to go to help them out?”  she volunteered, immediately concerned for the medical welfare of their team. 

“As far as I know, they are fine, Doctor. Commander Larsen took Doctor Elodin with the team. I suppose that makes you in charge of Sickbay and the welfare of the entire crew while they are down there,” he said, rubbing his bum and feigning injury, though with a smile and a twinkle in his eye.

Looking shocked, Ravi paled.  “I wasn’t told Sir.  I would have been there for the first shift if I had known…..” she spluttered.  “ … and then I shouldn’t have been here to harm you at that moment.  Very regrettable, Captain. I see you are still hurting?  Can I offer some pain relief?” she asked, so distracted by this news that she hadn’t seen the twinkle in the CO’s eyes.

Bane had to laugh. “Honestly Doctor, relax a little. I am not hurt. I was just joking a bit with you.” He chose to ignore the part about coverage of Sickbay. Had it been an issue, he is sure that Dr. Elodin would have taken measures to ensure said issues were taken care of. “Anyway, I shouldn’t keep you from your duties and your patients. Plus, I have to get back to the Bridge. I had to take a walk for a short bit to clear my head. The people, all plant life and all animal life, all the way down to the single-celled organisms seem to be missing from the planet below. As you know, we had reports of a rather large space-faring civilization from this region of space, and they are, well, gone.” 

Ravi’s eyes widened.  “Even down to the single cell organisms?” she repeated unable to fathom any planet without at least that level of life suddenly having changed from a very advanced development.  “Are we talking about the Planet having been un-naturally Scoured?  Nuclear Winter? Or is it possibly Planet core death?” she asked, her curiousity overtaking her common sense which shouted silently from within ~don’t chatter at the Captain!~ it tried to tell her but the idea of a sudden Planet Death for whatever reason was too horrifying and darkly fascinating to hold her into suitable ‘keeping her nose out of it’ mode. 

The Captain shrugged his shoulders.  “Not sure at this point, to be honest.  Ensign Spangler showed me the data before he went down to the planet. Everything that used to be alive is just gone. If the planet were scoured, all the buildings and infrastructure of an advanced civilization would have been wiped clean as well, and that isn’t the case. In fact, the Away Team is now in the middle of one of the cities now.” He paused, then continued. “The atmosphere is still there, so whatever happened must have happened extremely rapidly,” he said, furthering his thoughts to her. “If the core went solid, that would be an event millions of years in the making, and as it cooled and solidified, the atmosphere would have lost pressure and dissipated into space, so I cannot imagine it would be that. Well, unless there is something about geological events that we don’t understand yet, that is,” he stated.

“Oh I see” she said, thinking through what the CO had just explained. 

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what they find.  It’s very strange but thank you for updating me, Sir, that’s kind of you.  It was nice meeting you at last, although not the best way I could have gone about it but if you’re quite sure you’re unhurt then I must repeat my apologies and let you get back to whatever you were going to do next, Sir.”  she offered, realising she had no useful suggestions to add and that she was keeping him after he’d already said he’d got to go. 

She began to repacked her medkit and stood slightly aside, deferentially, expecting him to send her on her way.

While he had not planned on updating her, it was good that he got the word out to the crew. With any luck, she would share the information with other crewmembers, and it would then spread through the rest of the ship. “Anytime, Doctor. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should get back to the Bridge. Prophets know I’ve been gone too long as it is. Poor Lieutenant Lisald may be about to burst at the seams with sitting in command of the Bridge.” He smiled at the thought of that, knowing what it felt like when Commander Montgomery tapped him for Executive Officer when he was the same rank as Mr. Lisald. “Have a good day, Doctor.” He disappeared around the corner, presumably headed back to the Bridge of the starship.

“I will Sir, thank you and I hope your day gets better.”  She couldn’t imagine it getting any worse than to be mown down by one of the Newbies on board.  In fact, come to think of it, she’d been very lucky that he hadn’t put her on report!  She felt very pleased that he’d been so nice about it though.  She had liked him on sight and his manner seemed to be every bit as good as as his looks promised.  Ravi felt a good connection and began to already develop loyalty to her new CO.  He was going to be worth making lots of effort to impress but also lots of reasons to be one of his star players, if she could achieve that.  She resolved to try and went back to hurrying for Sickbay, feeling a lot better about this posting already.  

A JP between:

Lt. (jg) Raviran Dattek-Winters MD

ACMO – USS Cygnus

and

tag for sign off pls} 

A palpable haze was visible in the air as the away team from the Cygnus materialized on the surface of the system’s third planet. Erik Larsen had chosen one of the world’s medium sized cities as their entry point, in what appeared to be a sort of public square or common area. An area that he would have expected to be teeming with people at this midday hour. As soon as the five officers fully materialized, Erik began to issue assignments.

“Okay,” he began, turning to face the group. “Our orders are to find out what happened to…well, everything. We will split into two groups. Robinson, you’re with me. Dr. Elodin and Ensign Spangler, you’re with Lt. Gore. Even though this is a fact finding mission, I want one thing clear: no unnecessary risks. Comm channels open at all times. Let’s go.“

Andy wiggled her fingers, she had nothing against the modern convenience of transporters, it was just her own personal habit. She had done it ever since her first ever use of a transporter as a child to make sure the machine had worked, that she was all back together in the right place. Childish things aside, she upholstered and unfolded her tricorder.  The device too had survived transport undamaged and was also functioning just as it should. The sheer stillness of everything was unnerving. The only sounds were the footsteps of the Starfleet crew and the melodic trilling of the tricorder. “This one doesn’t exactly come up in class at the Academy. How does everything just disappear? Seen anything like it before, sir?” Andy asked.  She was conscious that she was still new to the exploration game and that others had more experience.

”I admit I’ve seen some strange things in my day,” said Larsen as he adjusted the sensitivity of his tricorder and turned to his right. “But anything I know of that could have done this would have made the planet unsafe for an away team.” 

Ensign Spangler slowly looked around the abandoned city; the complete absence of any sound more unnerving than just silence. He was confident up until a moment ago of the data his department provided, but a moment ago he was also safe aboard the Cygnus. He looked at the two men he’d been paired with; He’d only spoke to Elodin once in his time aboard the ship, and it hadn’t gone particularly well. Gore, he had only the color of his uniform and the pips attached to go off of. He nodded to both before turning his attention back to looking for the boogeyman.

Elodin flipped his tricorder open, and started scanning the area. He adjusted the portable scanner’s settings and conducted additional scans. “I’m not picking up any evidence of a biological contaminant,” he said. “There’s no indication of a viral or bacterial contamination.”

Erik moved his tricorder closer to what appeared to be a street vendor’s  station. The holding area was completely empty, not a trace of anything. Well, not a trace of anything organic. The tricorder beeped three times in rapid succession. The Executive Officer was troubled by the reason for the alert. “All organic molecules are just…gone. Except they’re not. There are trace amounts of the simplest hydrocarbons: methane, butane and propane.”

“Petroleum byproducts..” Albert said, mostly to himself. His own tricorder produced, the air became the focus of his attention. Despite the gases present, the oxygen level was higher than he expected. “Traces of nitric dioxide, too. Explains that.. smell.” Spangler looked to Gore, “Lieutenant, it’d help if we could find some water sources to test. At least, it’d be a good place to start.”

“Water sources? Do we have any bodies of water showing up on our scans?” Gore asked, distractedly. As he walked around the perimeter to get his bearings, he took note of any potential tactical advantages the area provided. His priority was the security of the away team, a notion that was never far from his thoughts. “I suppose there might be some form of indoor plumbing inside the surrounding buildings, if a body of water is not necessary.” Pondering the problem, another question popped up. “Anyone scanning for energy signatures? A computer wouldn’t come up as organic, but could contain answers or at least traces of an answer.”

“Either natural or plumbed would be useful.” Albert responded, fiddling with his tricorder. “These buildings are playing havoc with these things; can’t say for what’s beyond our line of sight, much less in the damn things.” He sighed already dreading his next words, “We might need to get a.. a, uh.. closer look.” 

Elodin adjusted the settings on his tricorder. Larsen’s statement about the disappearance of of organic molecules was peculiar – organic compounds couldn’t simply disappear without a trace. “The organic compounds can’t simply have disappeared,” he mused. “They must have been broken down into simpler compounds.”

The tricorder beeped as results came up on screen. “I’m not picking up any trace of carbohydrates within a ten-kilometer radius. But there are enough hydrocarbons here to light up the sky on Aldebaran Prime for a week.”

Elodin frowned. Carbohydrates were the basic building block of organic molecules. Their total absence was unheard of, on planets that were, or had been, capable of supporting life. The obvious conclusion was that carbohydrates had been present, but had been broken down or altered. Into what? The overabundance of hydrocarbons… Elodin made a mental note to review his basic biochemistry, to check if any enzymatic pathways leading from carbohydrates to hydrocarbons had been reported under natural conditions.

Larsen and Robinson continued walking in the direction that the tricorder told him was due west. Although the two teams were separated by nearly fifty meters, the unyielding silence of the place hung over them…they could almost hear each other without the communicator badges on an open frequency. “This civilization used a rodinium alloy in construction,” he said. “Make sure your instruments are adjusted accord…huh. That’s odd,” said Erik as he bent down and placed his hand on a pile of reddish dust. The tricorder beeped several times in succession. “Cerium. Gadolinium. Europium. Neodymium.” He looked at Robinson with a worried expression. “Lanthanide series elements. In extraordinarily high concentration.”

The color drained from the Executive Officer’s face. “Holy shit Robinson, this is starting to make sense. Mister Spangler, collect your water sample then return to the beam in point.”

Spangler raised an eyebrow, having already begun using his tricorder as an expensive divining rod. The device guided him to a protrusion on an adjacent building that very well could have been a spigot of some sort. It had no obvious method of operation, but the tricorder was convinced it was what he was looking for. He glanced around wearily, not wanting to prolong this adventure any further. He also was mostly out of view from his crewmates. “Oh well. Sorry.. ghost people.. or whomever.” Albert mumbled to himself, before planting his foot hard against the object, bending it slightly. A second attempt caused it to come free just enough to cause a leak from where it met the wall. It was enough to collect a sample, at least. He stared at the vial in his hand, pausing long enough to scan the contents before getting too comfortable. He wasn’t about to drink it; but it probably wouldn’t melt his hand either. With that, he hurried off to rejoin his companions.

Lieutenant Commander Erik Larsen Executive Officer, USS Cygnus

Ensign Albert Spanger 

Acting Chief Science Officer, USS Cygnus

Elodin Devan, MD 

Chief Medical Officer, USS Cygnus

Ensign Andy Robinson

Assistant Chief Operations Officer, USS Cygnus 

Lieutenant Gore

Chief Tactical Officer, USS Cygnus 

Always project calm. 

Those words were in the forefront of the Cygnus Executive Officer as the away team materialized in Transporter Room One. If he was remembering his Academy xenobiology studies correctly, then the ship and her crew were potentially in great danger. Larsen just needed to verify his suspicions with the ship’s database; and quite frankly, there was not a moment to lose.  

”Report to your duty stations,” said Larsen to the other members of the away team. “I am going to sync our data and prepare my report.“

The rest of the team left the transporter bay. Erik walked to one of the isolinear banks mounted on the wall and calmly entered a short series of commands; this would bring the data collected by all of their tricorders to the same place, and allow the Computer to begin analysis. A short trip through the xenobiology database confirmed that his suspicion was valid. Erik downloaded the data and analysis to a PADD and left to go to the bridge to deliver his report.  

Less than ten minutes after having arrived in the transporter room, the XO strode onto the bridge with purpose. He wasted no time in taking his seat next to the Captain. It felt like the entire bridge was looking at him expectantly, so Erik cleared his throat softly and began to speak.  

“The away team had some curious results,” he began. His voice trembled slightly under the gravity of what he was about to say. “There is no organic life present on the planet. In fact, the only organic molecules detected were the simplest hydrocarbons…methane, propane and butane. Possible byproducts of a combustion reaction. And elevated levels of gaseous nitrates. These things are odd enough by themselves.” The Executive Officer paused for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts again. “But there are also unexpectedly high levels of Cerium, Gadolinium, Neodymium and Europium. Lanthanide series elements.“

Erik looked directly at the Captain. “Sir, I verified our results with the xenobiology database. There is only one thing known to us that will leave hydrocarbons, nitrates and Lanthanide elements behind in its wake. I believe this world was consumed by a Crystalline Entity.“

Upon hearing the news that Lieutenant Commander Larsen gave him, Bane went into immediate action. “Very well,” he said calmly. “Commander, take us to Yellow Alert.” He stood and turned around to look at the aft of the Bridge where two of the senior officers of the ship stood. “Lieutenant Gore, take us to Tactical Ready. I want to be ready if we come in contact with that thing.”

Looking over from Lieutenant Gore, he trained his sights on Ensign Spangler. “Mr. Spangler, I want you and the Executive Officer to analyze the readings ,to double, triple and quadruple check the readings, to be sure the hypothesis that Commander Larsen reached is accurate. Use whatever resource is necessary. I also want full sensor sweeps in one-second intervals from every single sensor system we have. I want to know when it was here, I want to know when it left, I want to know what direction it went to and I want to especially know if it is coming back for seconds,” he ordered. 

Looking around, he didn’t see his Chief Medical Officer nor his Chief Engineer. They were likely at their posts, which was fine by him. “Bridge to Doctor Elodin. Doctor, try to come up with some sort of defense against being consumed by the Crystalline Entity at the biological level. You should be able to find data in the computer to help you in this task. Use your entire staff to help in this. It is now top priority,” Bane did not wait for a response, tapping his badge off, then on again.

“Bridge to Main Engineering. Lieutenant Anderson, you are going to need to get creative. We have possible evidence of the Crystalline Entity. Please secure the ship and all major systems to Level III, and be prepared to go to Level II or even Level I if necessary. Shut down all non-essential systems and sparsely-populated decks and shunt that power into critical systems. Bridge out,” he said, again not waiting for a response.

“Lietuenant Lisald, you used to be the Chief Science Officer on this ship. Transfer your duties to Ensign Robinson. You will be assigned to the Executive Officer and Ensign Spangler. Assist them in any way you can.” It was effectively a demotion for the Chief of Operations, but Bane would make it up to him later. Right now, he had the whole ship, and whole planets to worry about.

Bane tapped his badge one more time. “Bridge to Ensign Robinson. Collect all data available on the Crystalline Entity. I believe the Galaxy-class Enterprise made contact with one many years ago. We will need that information, all intelligence and every morsel of data on that encounter shared with all stations. The more information we have, the better prepared we will be. Bridge out,” Bane said.

He looked around the Bridge, everyone still looking at him. “Alright people, you have your orders. Let’s get to it.” He looked over to his Executive Officer. “Good work down there. You and your team did a hell of a job. Please be sure to pass on my praises to all involved.  You have the Bridge. Looks like I need to contact Starfleet Command.

OFF

Bane Plase, CaptainUSS Cygnus, Commanding

OOC: Alright everyone, you have stuff to do!  Lets see those posts roll in!

Erica took a sip of her orange juice as she made a few notes on her PaDD, which showed the latest diagnostics of the warp core, as well as her own work on improving the impulse manifold output. She wanted to find a way to increase impulse speed, but she knew it would take quite some time. After all, even Doctor Cochrane took years to build the first warp engine, and technology was far more advanced than what he had.

She didn’t even notice the rest of the people in the lounge. When she was involved in her work, she was able to block out anyone, not even noticing how busy the lounge was.

Bane stepped through the doors to the Lounge, the first time he had done so since being on board the Cygnus. He knew the Lounge was for the crew, not for him, and knew that the presence of the Captain would absolutely change the atmosphere of the room. Plus, he had his Private Mess where he could eat, if he wanted to outside of his quarters. Although he had told Doctor Winters he was headed to the Bridge, he still wanted to visit here. He knew he had time. All part of being the Captain. As he looked around, he saw only one familiar face, at least one familiar enough that he had talked to. He realized he hadn’t seen this officer for a while, so he stepped up to her table and waited for her to notice him. After several awkward moments, he cleared his throat to get her attention.

Erica looked up, hearing the cough, and blinked several times. “Captain! Sorry, I was looking at some work,” she said, standing up to attention. 

“Think nothing of it,” he lied. Shifting his stance, he asked, “What are you working on?” 

Erica looked at him, wondering if he had come to check on whether he had made a mistake in promoting her, or if this was what others called ‘small talk.’ It wasn’t something she was used to, or good at, but talking about work? Well, that she could do for hours. “Currently, I’m confirming the results of the diagnosis checks we ran on the warp core, reviewing the duty rosters for Engineering, as well as looking at the ideas I have on creating a new impulse engine. I believe the first part is to find a way to improve the strength of the plasma flow manifolds, in order to achieve a higher reaction speed without overloading the system,” Erica explained. 

Bane nodded in approval. He was happy he had not erred in judgment promoting her so quickly to Chief Engineer. It seemed she had taken the Durgbear by the proverbial horns.  “Good work, Lieutenant,” he said. Not wanting to get into the details of the impulse manifold (for it had been a lot of years since he was an Engineer), he asked, “You’re up to speed about our current status?”

Erica nodded. “I am. I’ve been researching the reports of the planet, and trying to make sense of what could have happened. So far, I’m not entirely sure what could have happened, but I’m sure the away team will be able to find out,” Erica said. 

Plase was again impressed. As far as he knew, she was not on the bridge when they found out everything organic was missing from the planet. “We sure hope so. Intelligence tells us there was a vast interstellar consortium here, and now their not.” 

Erica nodded. “I’ve been reading the reports, and the last report showed that nothing was wrong with any of the systems. On top of that, I’ve looked at the sensor logs, and run a scan for anything that could have done this, but there’s no trace of any of the usual suspects. I’m reading a few science texts to try and learn about other possible issues, but that I have to do when I have spare time,” Erica said.

She took a sip of her drink, sitting down. “I must confess, I don’t like not knowing something. It comes from childhood,” she said, trying to hide how annoyed she was at the puzzle in front of the ship.

The Captain had to smile at the duality that the Chief Engineer was dealing with. “It is interesting that you would choose a career where not knowing something is the driving force of the whole machination. We are out in space specifically because we don’t know.” 

“And we go out to explore and find the answers. I think the not knowing isn’t the driving force, it’s the search for answers. We all seek answers all through our life, and finding them brings a certain sense of completion,” Erica countered. 

“You aren’t wrong, but if the mystique of not knowing wasn’t there, then the seeking of answers also wouldn’t be there,” he countered back, enjoying the spar. It was rare anyone challenged a Captain so openly, and he appreciated she had done so. 

Erica thought for a second. “I disagree, to be honest, but mostly because ever since time began, and life began, seeking answers has always been the basic instinct of people. There are answers found not because it’s exciting but because it’s needed. The common cold cure, vehicles, technology… even food and drink. Take human milk. I doubt someone chose to drink from a cow’s udder because they were excited to find an answer, but because they needed nourishment,” Erica pointed out. 

Captain Bane smiled at her. “To use your analogy, could it not have been that a nomad saw a cow, didn’t know what it was, so out of not knowing what it was, approached it. Then, I imagine, not knowing what the white stuff was leaking out of that cows udders, tasted it. Not because of nourishment, but because they simply didn’t know, which drove their curiosity to find the answer.” 

“That is possible, but I rather doubt they just had a moment of curiosity. Like most things in history, I imagine someone saw a baby being fed, and thought of trying it for their own child. Either way, however, it could have been necessity more than curiosity. Either way, the search for answers is one thing that unites every species in the galaxy,” Erica replied. 

“Truer words have never been spoken, Lieutenant.” 

“Even as a child, I needed answers. My parents were amazing but I was… often alone in my studies, other than my sister Natasha,” Erica explained. 

“You aren’t alone here, Ms. Anderson. You are among some of the very best people in Starfleet, all seeking answers to the questions they have. Even me,” he said. “It was a pleasure talking to you. I told Doctor Winters I was headed back to the Bridge, so I better get up there before I get caught and she thinks I was lying to her,” he teased. 

“It was a pleasure speaking with you too, sir,” Erica said, with a genuine smile.

OFF

A fun little sparring JP by

Lieutenant (jg) Erica Anderson

Chief Engineer

USS Cygnus

&

Bane Plase, Captain

USS Cygnus, Commanding

Bane swung around his desk and sat down in his chair, his back to the large window that looked out starboard of the ship from the Main Bridge, his front facing the doorway which he had just entered through.  

Before he opened up his computer, he looked down to make sure his uniform looked decent, then ran his fingers through his hair, combing it a bit. Opening the computer terminal, he tapped the few commands that would put him in touch with Starfleet Command. Seeing as they were on the relative backside of Cardassian space, from the Cygnus’s point of reference, the channel would have to be routed from their current position to Deep Space 9, then to a communications array in the Argus Sector, through another communications array in the Antioch binary star system, and finally to Starfleet Headquarters in San Francisco on Earth. 

For several long minutes he waited until a familiar face appeared on screen. It was his old friend and former Executive Officer on the USS Yangtze Kiang, the ship he had served on during his cadet cruise. “Well bless the Prophets! If it isn’t Alicia Doubleday, as large as life itself! And now a Vice Admiral! Congratulations, Admiral,” he exclaimed, truly happy to see her. He had not seen nor heard from her since his days on that Sabre-class starship, not that he expected to. He was, after all, just a cadet at the time. One of probably hundreds she had to deal with during her time as Executive Officer. Bane noted with pleasure that she had barely changed. Her hairstyle was different than he remembered it, and there were a few more lines in her face, but she still had that sharp spark in her eyes, and she was as lovely as he remembered her.

“Captain Bane, congratulations on Captain, though it is several years late. Better late than never, right? To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Right to business. That was a bit different than he remembered, too. It used to be, if you got her talking, you couldn’t get her to shut up. He adjusted in his seat a little, then spoke. “Admiral, as you are aware, I am sure, the Cygnus was tasked with making first contact with a group of interstellar people called ”The Commonwealth. Admiral, we have arrived, but nobody is home.”

The Vice Admiral furrowed her brow a bit. “What do you mean, ”Nobody is home”, Captain? They aren’t responding to First Contact hails?”

Bane shook his head. “No, Admiral, I mean it literally. Nobody is home. Initially, long range scans showed the planet we are currently at had several hundred major cities, and a thousand more mid-sized cities with orbital satellites and communications arrays, so we headed here. We attempted to let them know we were on our way, but got no response. My Chief Science Officer was able to deduce on short range scans, once we got into range, that all biological matter was missing from the planet. When we got into orbit, I sent an Away Team to the planet to conduct a full investigation. According to my Executive Officer, who led the Away Team, it is confirmed that nearly all organic life has been extinguished from the planet.”

Vice Admiral Doubleday leaned forward towards the screen. “What was the condition of the cities and infrastructure? Did it appear to happen several years ago, decades ago, or centuries ago? And, I thought you said all organic matter? You just said nearly all. Which is it?”

“Excellent questions. The condition of the cities based on the report from the Away Team is that they were vacated shortly ago. Days at most, a single day at least, so whatever happened here was sudden. And correct. Our initial scans, both long and short range, showed no organic material left on the planet. However, the Away Team found the following,” he said, minimizing the face of the Admiral and pulling up the report from the Away Team that Lieutenant Commander Larsen, Lieutenant Gore, Dr. Elodin and Ensign Spangler were kind enough to upload to the main computer. “Cerium, gadolinium, europium  neodymium and lanthanide series elements, the latter being in extraordinarily high concentration.”

“Captain, you know my background is starship piloting, not science,” she said with a slight smirk on her face. “What does all that gobbledigook mean?”

And there it was, the question Bane had been waiting for. “Admiral, these are all of the markings and telltale signs from the events that happened at Omicron Theta III back in 2338, and on Melona IV and the Freighter Kallisko in 2368. Admiral, we believe there is a Crystalline Entity in the vicinity.”

Admiral Doubleday blinked for a moment, the weight of the situation coming down on her. “You are certain of this?”

Bane sat back in his chair. “As certain as we can be. I have the entire resources of this ship checking and double checking the readings and researching the events that happened here, and the events that happened last time Starfleet encountered the Crystalline Entity. I also have my Chief Tactical Officer scanning every micron within range of our sensors to see when it was here, and where it went, if it was indeed the Crystalline Entity. As it stands right now, we are extremely confident this is the case.”

The Admiral nodded. “Alright. I will inform the Admiralty of your findings, Captain. Good work. If you do sniff out the Crystalline Entity, do your very best to steer clear of it. Your shields should be enough to keep you and your crew safe. You should probably maintain yellow alert until the situation passes, though.”

“Yes Admiral, we are already there. Should Starfleet inform the Cardassian Union of the potential of the Crystalline Entity so close to their space,” Bane asked.

The Admiral shifted her eyes for a moment, a sign that she was seriously considering the question. “No, I don’t think so, not just yet. We aren’t 100% sure it is the Crystalline Entity, though I admit the evidence is compelling. We want to be absolutely sure before we raise the alarm. They are still a wounded animal, and could lash out at the possible danger. With any luck, it isn’t the Crystalline Entity at all, but something that is natural that results in the same signatures. If it does turn out to be the Crystalline Entity, maybe we will get lucky and it will head away from Cardassian and Federation space. We do not want to destabilize the Cardassians, their military or their government.”

Plase looked at her with an unbelieving look on his face, but she was his superior officer. It could be she knew something more concerning the Cardassians than he did, so he let it pass, for now. “As you wish, Admiral. While you are talking to the Admiralty, I will inform Deep Space 9 since we are close to them. Don’t worry,” he said, when it was apparent she was about to protest, “I will do it over a secure channel and will let the commander know it is currently sensitive information. I just don’t want them getting caught with their proverbial pants down around their ankles if it shows up there.”

“Very well Captain. Again, good work on this. I will inform the Admiralty and will be in touch. Keep surveying those star systems as the original orders stated, and try to keep clear if the Crystalline Entity comes back.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said.

“It was good to see you again, Plase. Doubleday, out.” 

The screen went from her face to the Federation Crest , the Starfleet Delta ghosted overtop of it. Bane thought for several moments about the conversation, processing it and getting the full scope of it wrapped up in his brain. He then opened a secure channel to Deep Space 9. With any luck, he could convince the Captain there to allow the U.S.S. Defiant to patrol for it and keep tabs on it. While this would not be the spirit of the orders he had received from Admiral Doubleday, it certainly followed the orders to the letter.

OFF

Bane Plase, Captain

USS Cygnus, Commanding

The doors swished open, admitting Lisald Vaat into Sickbay. Last time he had been here was shortly after he reported aboard almost two years ago. This time, unfortunately, he was not here for a simple physical, but instead hopeful for some help with minor pain he was experiencing. 

He stepped through, intent on going to the very first medical-type person he saw, but stopped dead in his tracks. There, in a Starfleet uniform specially modified for this persons race, was, well, a fox. Not to be confused with the human slang for a cute person, but an actual fox. With multiple tails! He couldn’t help himself from staring, mouth agape, holding his hurting hand with the other.

Kin’Fuji felt the eyes upon her.  They wondered over her body, to her tails.  She chuckled as she knew that her tails always caught everyone’s attention.  “My wife had the same look when we first met.”  She said to the man as she walked over to him.  “I’m guessing the way you are holding your wrist, that is what is hurting, and not your teeth?”

“Oh, sorry about that, Doctor,” Lisald said, blushing slightly. He didn’t mean to stare. “Actually, it is my fingertips, and just the fingertips on my index and middle fingers, oddly enough. Can you help?”

“That sounds like some minor nerve damage.”  Kin’Fuji stated.  “So let get you onto a biobed and I’ll stated a scan.”  She said leading the man to a biobed.  Her tails where dancing out behind her.  “Besides sir, I am use to getting stared at.  Everyone gets mesmerized by my tails and how they dance on their own.”  She chuckled.  “On Earth, everyone kept calling me a Kitsune.”  She said.  “But we have a similar sounding name.  Cait’sune, as we are a subspecies of the Caitians.”  She explained as she knew he was going to ask.

Sitting down on the biobed, he listened to the fox-like doctor talk. It was actually quite soothing to listen to her, almost a purr-like inflection on the occasional word she spoke. “I’ve never met a Kitsune nor a Cait’sune before. Heck, before I saw you in the briefing room the other day with the Captain, I’d never even seen one outside of Anthropology books at Starfleet Academy. Its honestly a sincere pleasure getting to meet you, a first of your kind for me.” He looked down at his fingers, painful as they were. “Nerve damage, huh? Can you fix that? How did it happen?”

“I am one of six Cait’sune in Starfleet.”  Kin’Fuji said as she started her scans.  “Now there is about three hundred off the homeworld.  That includes me, my daughter, mother, and father.”  She added.  “How long has your fingers been bothering, and what activity where you preforming when you noticed the pain?”

Lisald thought for a moment. “I notice it mostly when I am performing my duties at the Operations station on the Bridge,” he told the doctor. “I think it really started to bother me only within the last few days. And only 300?! That is incredible! There are more Bajorans living on Deep Space 9 than that,” he said. “Think nothing of the Bajorans living on the many moons that support life in the Bajoran system.” He found it incredible that so few had left the homeworld. “Does your kind practice racial isolation?”

“Well with the Bajorans living within Bajoran space, it is to be expected that they would colonize the worlds of their own system.”  Kin’Fuji said with an ear twitch.  “As for the Cait’sune.  My people are naturally Empathic, with a few being fully Telepathic.  So we tend to be a bit more…  um….  reserved with other species.”  She said.  “Also we don’t have a huge population compared to the Caitian people.”

The Bajoran nodded, understanding. “How many of you are there,” he asked, as the Doctor ran a medical doodad over his fingers.

“Don’t get me wrong, we are not an endangered species.  We have a population of several hundred million.”  Kin’Fuji said.  “Okay it looks as you have sprained fingers.”  She stated.

Relieved on both accounts, he shifted the conversation back to himself, mainly to keep from embarrassing the Doctor. He didn’t know for sure how much her people liked to talk about themselves or their species, and he didn’t want to embarrass her, or worse, offend her. “By the Prophets, how does one go about spraining fingers? I’m not exactly the athletic type,” he joked.

“You could have done it while sleeping.”  Kin’Fuji said as she tilted her head.  “You don’t have to be embarrassed about asking about the Cait’sune people.”  She smiled.  “I am use to people asking about my people, especially humans.  I was a bit surprised when I found out the Human’s have a myth about my people.  So some of our historians are working on seeing if there was a way for some of my people to appear on Earth.”

Being a Bajoran, he surely didn’t know what Kin’Fuji was talking about. “Really? Tell me about it?”

“Yes, in Japan of Earth, they have stories of fox spirits.  Most tales of kitsune are about foxes punishing wicked priests, greedy merchants, and boastful drunkards. They do this by confusing their targets by creating phantom sounds and sights, stealing from them, or otherwise humiliating them publicly through trickery or even possession. Kitsune often have powerful magic, and are specially known for their charm abilities, Illusions, Possession, and Mind Manipulation.”  She stated.  “As most of my people are Empathic, but those with 7 to 9 tails have the telepathic abilities.”  She added.  “It is also said that Kitsune are extremely intelligent and very powerful shape-shifters. Skilled enough to transform into exact likenesses of individual people, often appearing in the guise of beautiful human women in order to play tricks young men. On more than one occasion this has resulted in the marriage with an unwitting human. Some kitsune even spend most of their lives in human form, adopting human names and customs, taking human jobs, and even raising families. When startled, or drunk, or careless, occasionally part of their magical disguise can fail, and the kitsune’s true nature may be revealed by a tail, a patch of fur, fangs, or some other vulpine feature.”  She explained.  “So it is believed that this might have been done with early holographic technology.  It is also possible for Humans and Caitian’s or Cait’sune to crossbreed.  As my own daughter has a Human Mother.”  She stated as her tails danced behind her.

Lisald listened, transfixed. “You know, that myth sounds a lot like an ancient myth on Bajor, too. Although it wasn’t for mischief or deceit, but to offer advice and serve as advanced warnings, if my memory serves,” he said, astounded. “There is one particularly famous one in the Te’Cain Providence where a Cat’zune appeared to a group of farmers and told them to shore up flooding measures. None took the warning seriously, save one. All of the farmers, their families and entire fields of crops were killed in the resulting flooding, except that one farmer, who had an extremely bountiful harvest, claimed the lands after the floodwaters receded, and his sons and daughters went on to be elected to high office in politics and in our religious orders.” Lisald paused, then continued. “I wonder if the Cat’zune myth is really visits from your people millennia ago.” He looked down at his fingers. “My fingers are tingling now. Is that supposed to happen?”

“Good I have been waiting for the tingling again.”  Kin’Fuji said as she started her scans again.  “I mean it might be possible.  Some believe that the Caitian and the Kzinti share a common ancestry.”  She pointed out.  “I know that Humans have been taken from their homeworld in their earlier history.  One such Human colony was found by the Enterprise in the Delphic Expanse in 2153.  So why wouldn’t or couldn’t the same thing happen to other species across the galaxy.  So it might be they this race used my people image or my people as a slave race to speak with other lesser developed worlds.”  She was looking at the reading.  “Okay, it looks as if you have a pinched nerve.  An easy fix.”

“Oh, good. I feel incredibly dumb that I somehow managed to pinch a nerve in my stupid finger,” he said embarrassedly.  “Oh, it’s starting to feel warm now. How interesting!” His scientific mind couldn’t help but be amazed at the sensations he was feeling.

“It is very common.”  Kin’Fuji said.  “Especially while sleeping.”  She added.

After several more moments of flexing and moving his fingers, they felt back to normal. The pain was gone. “Thanks for the help, Doctor. And thank you for the amazing lesson on your people. I’ve got to get back to the Bridge, but I hope we can chat more later,” he said, slipping off the biobed and heading out.

OFF

A JP by

Dr. Kin’Fuji, Medical Officer

and 

Lieutenant (jg) Lisald Vaat, Chief Operations

“Where is Vaat,” Roberts asked, craning his neck so he could see the door to the Operations Lounge, his back facing it.

“Probably up on the Bridge playing video games on the viewscreen,” Veenak responded. “You know how those goldbricks up there are.”

“There are gold bricks on the bridge? What for? Are we looking to do some latinum mining soon,” Jin’Tok asked.

Roberts and Veenak both blinked at him for a moment before cracking up laughing.

“Did I say something funny,” Jin’Tok asked, looking to Roberts then to Veenak and back, lost as to what was so funny.

Veenak responded. “The term ”gold brick,” when used in this manner, means people that live life at ease. Everyone knows Bridge Officers sit up their on their lazy behinds, while the rest of us actually work our fourth point of contact off maintaining the ship and systems. All they do is order us around.”

Jin’Tok nodded, understanding. “I see. And you have been on the bridge to see these games being played on the viewscreen,” he asked Roberts, “And you have seen them sitting around just relaxing,” he said to Veenak, impressed at both. “The closest I have ever been to the Bridge is Deck 4. I have not even been to the Executive Officers office for a meeting with him, or with his predecessor.”

Veenak responded first. “Well, no. I’ve never been to the Bridge,” she confessed.

Sheepishly, Roberts responded in kind. “Yeah, neither have I,” he said admittedly. “However,” he said, recovering for himself as well as Veenak, “It is common knowledge that is what happens up there.”

Jin’Tok furrowed his brow, thinking and being confused. “So neither of you have ever personally witnessed this? What about away missions? Senior Officer always go on the Away Missions. And meetings, they have a lot of meetings, do they not?”

Roberts snorted. “You mean they get to leave the ship and see all those wonderfully amazing exotic planets and meet and greet all those wonderful people that we all joined Starfleet to do? Certainly sucks to be them,” he said sarcastically.

“Yeah, and meetings? Really Jin?” Veenak stated. “We all have meetings. The Senior Officers though, they have it down pat. They have a meeting to discuss what they are going to discuss at their next meeting, so they are prepared for the actual meeting later on. They have meetings to ensure their meetings will go according to plan.”

“That does not sound very efficient,” Jin’Tok stated.

“You are sounding like a Vulcan, Jin,” Roberts said. Roberts knew if he and the Klingon had not been such close friends, he’d be carrying his own head to Sickbay for Doctor Kin’Fuji or Doctor Winters to reattach. Insulting a Klingon was a dangerous and extremely fine line to follow. Insult them with anyone that even remotely looked like a Romulan was nearly a death sentence. Which, now that Roberts thought about that, he thought maybe wasn’t such a big no-no anymore, what with Romulans in Starfleet now.

Jin’Tok grumbled, but wore a (however slight) smirk on his face.

“Where is he,” Veenak asked, looking at the door, wondering what could have held Vaat up. “He was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago to join us.

“Maybe he has forgotten about us. Maybe he is just too important now that he has rank and position,” Roberts said. The contempt in his voice was noticable, but barely.

“I cannot believe that to be the case, Alan,” Veenak said. “I mean, sure, he is my boss now, and even I barely get to talk to him anymore. I did get to talk to Ensign Robinson though, the new Assistant Chief of Operations. She seems very kind and nice.”

Jin’Tok and Alan both grunted in acknowledgement.

“So even you barely talk to him now. Do you think he is avoiding you, and avoiding us? We were all such good friends.” Roberts sat back in his chair, almost defeated. “What do you think we did wrong?”

“I do not think we have done anything wrong, Alan,” Jin’Tok responded as Veenak opened her mouth to do the same. “He is a Senior Officer now. Whether that means he is busy with work that none of us see or even know about, or if he is playing video games on the main viewscreen, or even taking a nap at his station, I cannot say, but we all know there is a clear line between Senior Officer and Junior Officer, just as there is a clear line between us Junior Officers and the Senior Non-Commissioned Officers aboard. And for them, a clear line between them and the Lower Enlisted. It could be he cannot enjoy our company anymore.”

Roberts nodded. “Yeah, you are right, of course. It just sucks. He is one cool cat. Uh,” he said, hurriedly, “Just don’t tell him I said that.”

“Yes, his presence will certainly be missed,” Jin’Tok agreed.

“It will,” Veenak said. “So, do you knuckleheads want to go ahead and order, or are we going to starve to death?”

OFF

Ensign Veenak, Operations Officer

&

Ensign Jin’Tok, Security Officer

&

Ensign Alan Roberts, Pilot

===============================

One week before departing for the USS Cyngus

==============================

There’s only two types of people in the world…The ones that entertain, and the ones that observe…Well, baby, I’m a put-on-a-show kind of girl

Ally looked up in the mirror at the people behind her and let out a sigh.    “Okay what’s the problem now,” she turned to face the group of people looking at her like a class of first-year plebes from the academy.

“That I am not sure I bend that way ‘darlin’,” Dennis Murphy let a boisterous laugh, “and I am pretty sure if Fred does that he ain’t ever getting back up.”

The bout of laughter following his comment made even Ally crack a smile.   The annual San Francisco Police Precinct talent show was more a matter of being a good sport than actual talent however, Ally had spent almost her entire life helping run it and performing in it.  This was her most daring production number in it.  Primarily because all her performers were ninety years old or older.   Buck, Dennis, Fred, Bill, and George along with their wives were more family than friends.   All of these men had served with her father since they were as young as Ally was now.  She had grown up as a police brat in an extended family with Psueduouncles, aunts, and cousins.  Because of this, they had good-naturedly put on whatever skit, song, or dance number Ally had invented since she was ten years old.   Pursing her lips, she side glanced at the holo-radio pumping out Whitney Bleers song Circus.  It was fast-paced and Ally had tamed down the perky little Orion’s dance moves from the holo-vid to account for the various, knee and hip replacement most of her performers suffered from.

“Well if Fred falls dance around him,” she said trying to keep a straight face.   “No one in the audience is going to know if you make a mistake unless you show them.  Own it.  Feel it,” she began her pep-talk with pure conviction in her voice and on her face.  “Do you want the San Diego Precinct taking First Place?  Oh no, you don’t,” she answered the rhetorical question.  “Besides the fireworks and pyrotechnics will distract people.  All you need to do is remember the steps.   Now let’s try it again.”

Ally turned back to the mirror and saw all the men and women acting like they had no desire to be doing this however, as she counted out the beats, everyone was on their feet and getting ready to shuffle, ball-change, and hop to the beat.

All eyes on me in the center of the ring just like a circus…When I crack that whip everybody gon’ trip just like a circus

“Don’t stand there watching me, follow me, show me what you can do,” Ally spoke the words to the song loudly instead of singing them eyeing Buck and Bill who were just swinging their hands with far less enthusiasm than the rest of the cast.  As bad as they looked, Ally knew their complaints, grumbles, and moans were just the men being men.  Their wives were entirely into the couple dancing sections in it.  The smiles and small muttered comments between the couples tugged at Ally’s heart.    One day she wanted to be just like them.   Married and complaining but so in love with the other person in their arms.   “Nice spin Ethel.   Rose and Fred excellent dip.”   Ally continued to call out praise and corrections as they ran the number.   Her attention was so focused on her pupils, she did not notice a new figure enter the room as the song played.

There’s only two types of guys out there…Ones that can hang with me and ones that are scared…So, baby, I hope that you came prepared….I run a tight ship, so beware

“So does Captian Bane,” the voice used the tight ship comment to announce his arrival, “however if you can get him up and doing this,” the man twirled a finger at the motley crew of geriatric dancers, ”I want a front-row seat.”  Captain Spicer strolled into the room holding Ally’s transfer papers in his hand.   He could have just sent them however, he had watched Ally throughout the academy and had hand-picked the USS Cygnus for her.   The ship had a solid crew and a phenomenal command team.  She was going to learn a lot from them. The only concern he had was if the Cygnus was ready for the pint-sized powerhouse.

=============================

One week later …..Captain Bane’s Office Door

=============================

Ally stood at the door of Captain Bane and took a deep breath.   In truth, she hated the first day of any place.   The second day was far more productive.  You knew what to expect and the expectations.  Today however was Ally’s first day on the USS Cygnus and she was bound and determined to make the day perfect.   *Okay Ally you got this.   It doesn’t matter if he is the CO.  I mean he puts his pants on one leg at a time just like the rest of us.  The only thing different between him and you is his quarters are larger, his pips can blind you in direct sunlight, he owns your life, controls your shore leaves, duty schedules,* her mind began to drift from pep talk to realities.

Letting out a huge sigh, she shook out her hands and hit the door control waiting for the CO to grant her permission to enter. Tugging at her shirt and straightening her posture, Ally tried to make her California girl exterior less noticeable.   The second most people saw her 5’4″ stature, blonde hair, and perpetual tan, they all assumed she was a beach bunny.   Taking a deep breath she held it waiting for the pneumatic door to swish open.

Captain Bane looked up from the PADD he was looking at about crew rotation, and about crew that were being assigned to other posts, but most specifically about people that were being assigned to the Cygnus. He had put in a request on their way back from their most recent mission for more personnel to be assigned to the ship, and it looked like Starfleet had finally come through for the ship. “Please, come in,” he said, which the computer took as affirmation for the doors to be opened. Of course, as the doors opened, Bane saw immediately how young the new officer being assigned to the ship was. Inwardly, he cursed at whatever Admiral had the perverse satisfaction of sticking it to the Cygnus. Outwardly, he smiled. “Please Ensign, come in and have a seat.”

As the door opened, Ally got her first look at the new CO.  Well at least he is smiling but Spicer was right.  He doesn’t look like the dancing jazz hands type, she thought as she walked confidently into the room.   “Hello I am Ally,” she said, extending her hand to the man behind the desk before instantly retrieving it.  “I mean Ensign Ally…Scott,” she quickly brought her hand up to her forehead in salute.   Closing her eyes and cringing internally she took a deep breath as she dropped her hand.  Why don’t you just introduce yourself as Ensign Babbling Baboon, she grimaced.  Taking a breath she started over.

“I am Ensign Ally Scott reporting for duty.  Do you prefer a salute or handshake,” she asked him.   It was times like this she really wished she had dyed her hair brown instead of keeping it natural blonde.   It was just nerves from never reporting in that had her look like she graduated at the bottom of the barrel from the academy.

Bane rose from his chair, sitting the PADD he was looking at down noiselessly on the glass desk. “A handshake will be just fine, Ally Ensign Ally Scott,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “Formality certainly has its place, but saluting is pretty archaic on both our worlds. You won’t have to do that anymore, unless an Admiral shows up, or during award ceremonies, or Prophets forbid any punitive actions that must be taken.”

“Well that is a relief,” she let out a half chuckle and smiled.  Bane’s neck might have enough pips to blind you if the sun hit them right but the man seemed to have a sense of humor.  Ally could work with that.   Extending her hand she shook his and then took a seat in one of the chairs facing Bane.

Bane had asked for more senior and seasoned officers to be assigned to the ship. Clearly, Starfleet Command thought they were doing just fine and sent yet another Ensign straight out of the Academy. He wondered for a moment if she still got spacesick still. “Ensign, what position are you reporting to aboard our ship,” he said, gesturing to the room at large, but metaphorically to the colossal ship.

“Oh,” Ally looked at him and then tucked a chunk of hair behind her ear.   “I am your psychiatrist.”

Bane’s eyes went wide with surprise, blinking several times.

“Well, not your psychiatrist but the ship’s psychiatrist unless you need one?”  Bane’s years of experience reading people as a commanding officer was not needed right now to see the shock and horror spreading over his new Ensign’s face.   A blind man could see Ally had realized her faux pas.  Scratching her forehead, Ally looked down for a second regretting that she had not brought a cup of coffee with her.  Years ago in clinical rotations, she had learned that a well-timed sip of coffee hid surprise, shock, or confusion. Usually, it was on her part when someone revealed something in therapy she wasn’t expecting.  Today it would have served both her and Bane well.   “I am gonna just rewind and start again,” she looked up at Bane nodding slightly as if leading him to say *sure Ally you look like an idiot but let’s give it that college try and see if you can make it three strikes before I throw you out.*

“I am the ship’s new psychiatrist.  I am just a little nervous if you can’t tell,” she let out another small nervous chuckle.   “One day you and I are gonna sit back and laugh about how fast you called the transfer office once I left asking if I am just pay back for some event in your past but I can assure you,” she began to relax some as she spoke, “I graduated in the top three percent of my class in counseling services.  I am committed to making sure this crew has someone they can come to to talk about their concerns, problems, and just have a place to go when they need someone to talk to.”

Bane wasn’t sure he liked being told what they were going to do someday, but maybe that was just a human thing. He had learned over his several decades of service that sometimes humans did that, or did other bizarre things, like put mayonnaise on their french fries. Weirdos! “We have needed a Counselor aboard for quite some time. I am glad that Starfleet granted the request. Since you are the only Counselor aboard, would you feel comfortable assuming the Chief role in an acting capacity until such time you either grow into it, or Starfleet assigns someone here with more experience?” Bane didn’t quite know what to think of her just yet. He knew for sure that she was green. Very green. Neon green, even.

“Of course,” Ally nodded however in her mind the conversation was a bit more vocal.  Dude you are gonna love me.  In fact, once I get my office set there is going to be a need for a bouncer at the door because my office is gonna be like nightclub downtown with everyone wanting to get in, she thought.   “If you don’t mind maybe I could tell you a little bit about myself,” she volunteered.

Bane smiled warmly and nodded. “I’d like that.” It seemed to Bane that once she got past her nerves, she was quite sure of herself. With time and seasoning, she would be able to temper her nerves and control them instead of them controlling her, he thought.

“Well I come from California and yes I surf but I am not a beach bunny.   My Dad is a retired police officer from San Francisco and I have two brothers, Jeff and Jason.  I always wanted to be a doctor but volunteering one summer I found I was also good with people so I decided on psychiatry as a way to do both.”

“I hate the word safe space,” she relaxed back in her seat.  “It is too cliche.  I mean do you really need your therapist to announce publicly that what goes on isn’t for public consumption.   I also don’t like to see myself as a counselor.  I see myself as more of a life coach.  You come to me with whatever is going on and I make you the best you that you can be.  I also tend to be more proactive in my therapy approach.  You are never gonna get senior staff to come in and admit they are lonely or made a bad call when the enemy ship was pounding the snot of us.”  Ally’s eyes widened for a second realizing she was actually not protected with the counseling privilege to speak freely.   “Not that you would make a bad call…sir,” she gave him a weak smile.

“Naturally,” Bane responded, though he was not entirely sure she heard him. Inwardly, he had to smile at that.

“I just meant that at times people need more than some fluffy pillows, a box of kleenex, and a go get ‘em tiger pep talk.  I have found security folk tend to talk more when you have them on the PT field.   Science people do best when chatting with beakers in their hands and senior staff talk openly with a beer in their hand in the lounge.  The point,” she finally took a breath, “is I plan to be pro active and reactive.”

Plase didn’t exactly know what a safe space was (though he could gather it from context), nor what a box of kleenex was. What he did know was that he liked this girl, this officer, this Counselor, from the start. He was absolutely positive that whatever her plans were with the way she wanted to help counsel people aboard the Cygnus, they would immediately get dashed at the first onset. Afterall, no battle plan ever survived first contact with the enemy. “Sounds like you know exactly what you want to do and how you want to help people on our ship,” he said, a subtle sign that she was now part owner of the success of the mission the Cygus enjoyed. “Tell me, Miss Scott, what are your thoughts on your duties when you are not in session with members of the crew?”

Ally moved from relaxing back in her seat to the edge of it.  “I am so glad you brought that up.  I mean let’s face it people are never really enthused about meeting the counselor.  I am pretty sure there is a poll somewhere that ranks going to the counselor somewhere between the annual check-up with the doc and having a root canal.”   Ally hoped Bane saw the humor in her comments.   People rarely relied on humor but it could relax people faster than a sedative in an uncomfortable situation.

“They always come in saying the same thing  I am not crazy so,” Ally let the words roll off her tongue, “I would like to have monthly events for the crew that are fun.   Like a barbecue,” she threw out casually like there were old friends.  “Open up the hangar bay and roast a few hot dogs or use the holodeck and throw a luau.  You know something that says come for the fun and I am not going to secretly judge your sanity while you are there.”   Ally looked at Bane hoping the man’s current expression was agreeing and not abject horror hidden behind years at the command seat where hiding your internal feelings was a must.  “Hopefully it will allow the crew to be more comfortable with me when they don’t need me so when they do I already have a rapport established.”  Ally stopped and waited for Bane to give her some feedback.

Bane sat back in his chair, actually a bit impressed. It had never occurred to him to have a party in the shuttlebay with the bay doors open. With the right music and the right lighting, that could be a lot of fun. Crew rest and relaxation were as important to him as completing a mission successfully. It took a crew that was rested and comfortable with each other to be able to perform their jobs to the highest standards in which Starfleet, and he, expected. And she was right; she did need to have that rapport with the crew if she were going to perform her function on this ship successfully. He nodded. “That sounds good. So in addition to being the Counselor, you also see yourself being the moral officer, of sorts. I have to hand it to you, Counselor, in all my years in service, that is the first time I’ve heard that approach being taken. You have my blessings to do so, though you will need to clear the times and schedules of any events you wish to throw with the Executive Officer, Lieutenant Commander Erik Larsen. He has his finger on the pulse of the crew, so to speak, and when something could be scheduled to maximize its effectiveness.”

“Of course,” Ally’s tone indicated she was slightly shocked at Bane’s statement.  It wasn’t that the events had to be cleared, yet more that the brass would be showing up.  At times having the big dogs at events tended to keep everyone a bit more tensed.   That was a problem for another day however and Ally would solve it like she did everything else.

“It gives me great pleasure to welcome you aboard, Counselor. Please get with Lieutenant Lisald for quarters assignment, and be sure to check in with Commander Larsen, too. Dismissed.”

OFF

A JP by:

Bane Plase, Captain

USS Cygnus, Commanding

&

Allison “Ally” Scott, Ensign

USS Cygnus, counselor

Elodin walked into his office and, for one rare occasion, pressed the controls to shut the door. The Captain’s orders had been very specific, and he needed to focus all of his attention.

He walked around his desk to his chair, pausing only for a second at the Shrine to the Prophets to give Them a head bow. He taped into his computer and accessed historical records, searching for any mention of a Crystalline Entity. 

There were very few records containing any such mention. First and foremost was the USS Enterprise, which had encountered an Entity not once, but twice. Some of its crewmembers had even survived an attack, by seeking refuge in caves lined with kelbonite and fistrium. Nothing like what they had just found on the planet though. 

Elodin accessed the data on the residual radiation found in the soil samples. Slightly elevated levels of gamma radiation, but those were far from lethal levels, even in the first days following the attack. No evidence of complex carbohydrates remained, which was consistent with what the Cygnus had found. 

He searched for any mention of hydrocarbon levels, but there was no data on the subject. Either because the hydrocarbons had simply been absorbed into the naturally-abundant hydrocarbon reserves, or because the crew of the Enterprise hadn’t thought to scan for it.

What process would lead to the degradation of complex organic carbohydrates into hydrocarbons? thought Elodin. There were certain enzymatic pathways leading in the other direction, but nothing to reverse the process was known to the medical computer, at least nothing naturally-occurring. 

He read the last report from the Enterprise on their last encounter with the Entity. The thing had ultimately been destroyed by emitting a series of graviton pulses – why this had occurred, Elodin couldn’t even begin to fathom, since Starfleet’s and the Federation’s primary objectives were to seek out new life. The Entity certainly qualified as one of the most fascinating lifeforms ever encountered. Someone had clearly dropped the ball on that one, but the reports didn’t name names. 

Elodin moved on to the next report. The USS Titan had encountered several of the Entities some twenty years ago, and had successfully used the Enterprise‘s technique to establish communication with the beings, who referred to themselves as Branchers. 

Elodin sighed. All of this was fascinating to read, but it did little to address the immediate problem – how did one survive a close encounter with a Brancher? A Nebula-class ship’s shields would give them adequate protection, but what of a colony or an Away team?

He searched the historical records again, and came across a report from the Kallisko, a freighter operating in the area of the Brechtian Cluster. The entire crew had been killed, and all organic matter on the freighter had been absorbed by the Entity. But the ship’s computer had recorded sensor readings of the attack, and the process through which organic matter was converted into energy by the Entity had been documented, at least partially. Could they use this data to come up with some sort of protection at a biological level to avoid ending up on the Entity’s lunch menu? Now that was a question for the entire medical staff to reflect on.

He tapped the intercom. “Doctors Winter and Kin’Fuji, please report to Medical Briefing Room Two immediately.”

The Captain trained his sights on Ensign Spangler. “Mr. Spangler, I want you and the Executive Officer to analyze the readings ,to double, triple and quadruple check the readings, to be sure the hypothesis that Commander Larsen reached is accurate. Use whatever resource is necessary. I also want full sensor sweeps in one-second intervals from every single sensor system we have. I want to know when it was here, I want to know when it left, I want to know what direction it went to and I want to especially know if it is coming back for seconds,” he ordered. 

Spangler looked up from the results from the water sample he had collected. His people had completed the analysis, but the results were suddenly far less interesting. Albert nodded in reply, before looking back down to his console. He began initiating the sensors protocols prescribed; the task made exponentially easier by the extra power allocated by Lieutenant Lisald. Lisald, he thought, before glancing at his former section chief. It was fairly recently that the Bajoran fellow caused a cringe in Ensign Spangler; but he’d slowly come to accept his help, if not enjoy his company. 

It was at that moment the Captain addressed Lisald, “Lietuenant Lisald, you used to be the Chief Science Officer on this ship. Transfer your duties to Ensign Robinson. You will be assigned to the Executive Officer and Ensign Spangler. Assist them in any way you can.” 

“Aye, Captain,” Lisald said, tapping the command on his console to call his Assistant Chief of Operations, Ensign Andy Robinson to the Bridge to take over the duties. Lisald had been in the same class that everyone on this ship that went to the Academy had been in, discussing singular First Contact events that didn’t go as planned, or in this case, went terribly wrong. He also remembered hearing about the Crystalline Entity in other classes, about how the devastation was complete to organic matter. He was both thrilled and apprehensive about being able to study the event up close. The prospect of coming face to face with the Entity was too much to imagine. Standing, he made his way to the back of the Bridge to his very first Bridge Duty Station, Science Station 1, where his friend was standing, watching him approach. “What have we got, Al?”

It took a moment for Spangler to respond. Eventually he looked towards the Bajoran, thought for a moment, before eventually settling for a shrug and, “Hell if I know.” Albert brought up the actively occurring scans of the formerly occupied planet. “I can tell you what isn’t there; which is a lot more than what actually is… there.”

Lisald folded his arms. “Well, its a place to start.” He leaned forward, then tapped at a few commands. “Maybe the absence of what is supposed to be there can help us determine what happened here. Have you read the reports from the Enterprise about the Crystalline Entity? The devastation was complete and absolute.”

“Well, sure. I remember it from the Academy; I don’t remember.” Albert tilted his head slightly, “It destroyed.. absorbed.. ate? All the organic matter of any sort. Left everything else. Very clean, for what it’s worth.” He continued to cycle through scans, finding nothing of note other than what they already knew. “There were high levels of certain metals.. lanthanides and hydrochlorides were also higher than anything that could of been naturally occurring. Look at this.” Albert brought up the water sample analysis, “Got this from a.. municipal source, I suppose.”

The water sample that Spangler pulled up was telling. There weren’t lanthanides and hydrochlorides in the parts per million that were to be expected from a cataclysmic event such as the one that happened on the planet below them. No, it was in the parts per hundred thousands, which was orders of magnitude higher than he expected. “Holy Prophets,” he exclaimed. “Starfleet could come in here and mine that stuff, there is so much.” He was being rhetorical, of course, but only just so. He tapped a few commands on the console. “I wonder if there is a way we could tune our sensors to look for the decayed particles through space.” He wracked his brain for a moment. “How did the Enterprise track it 30 years ago?” He couldn’t remember.

Spangler wrinkled his forehead, wishing he had more than skimmed the reading that his cohort was referring to. “Well.. it’s not magic. The thing is taking massive amounts of biological matter, and converting into energy. Physics are still a thing; that matter has to go somewhere.” Spangler began tasking individual scanner pallets away from the planet, and into the immediate space around it. “We have a good idea of what to look for, unaccounted for bitrious material and the like; there’s a good chance it’s leaving a trail wherever it went.” 

Picking up on what Spangler was putting down, continued, “And that trail should, in theory, be like the yellow brick road leading us right to Oz. Excellent work! Lets see where this bugger is,” he said, leaning in to help calibrate the sensors accurately. He could almost imagine the ship skimming the trail right to the Crystalline Entity. Before much longer, they would have something to give to Lieutenant Commander Larsen and Captain Bane. Lisald felt good about being able to give something to the two senior officers of the ship. He wondered if Spangler felt as good as Lisald did about this.

The sense of excitement exuding from Lisald had become very familiar to Albert, and it still made him cringe inside a bit. That slightly manic look always seemed to lead to more work for him somehow. Spangler rolled his eyes with a slight grin, “Whatever you say, Mr. Vaat.”

Lieutenant junior grade Lisald Vaat

Chief Operations Officer

&

Ensign Albert Spangler

Chief Science Officer

Gore read over the report again. “Insatiably ravenous for the life force found in intelligent forms like us.” That single phrase bounced around in his head over and over again. The quote was from then Captain Picard, when the Admiral had commanded the famous USS Enterprise-D, the Galaxy class version of the Enterprise lineage, and incidentally, which the Cygnus herself was based off of. Gore had a duty and desire to protect the Cygnus from any harm. As he continued to read the report from his station on the Bridge, he felt both better and worse about being able to perform his duty. Oh, he would do it, and he would do it perfect, but he knew that given the slightest chance, the Crystalline Entity would capitalize on it and eat every microbe of biological matter on this ship. He would not let that happen.

He tapped a few commands to pull up the shield schematics of the old USS Enterprise and the USS Titan, the ship that next survived the encounter. For the aforementioned ship, it had been 32 years since the encounter. Gore already knew the shield harmonics, frequencies and power output were greater on the Cygnus than they were for the Enterprise roughly a third of a century ago. The encounter with the Titan under Captain Riker was much closer in time, just 18 years ago. The Titan had experimental shielding at the time, those experiments going into shielding technology for the fleet a few years after the fact, some of which the Cygnus now incorporated. In that regard, Gore was satisfied that their shields would hold against the Crystalline Entity, so long as its manner in which it stripped all biological life from an object or planet had not changed. He took a quick look at the information Commander Larsen and his team brought back from the planet below, and it was pretty close to consistent with what the Enterprise and Titan had reported all those years ago. 

He cross-referenced the additional information gathered and compiled from the ships Chief Science Officer, Ensign Spangler, with the help of the Chief of Operations Lieutenant Lisald. They had discovered a way to track it using the decayed particles that the Crystalline Entity expelled from ingesting all the matter. Ensign Spangler had even annotated in his report that it he called it Crystalline Methoxyl Discharge, which he had shortened to the much-easier-to-say Crystal Meth. Gore thought that had a nice ring to it, and added a sub-note to the report that he approved of the name. In the back of his mind, he wondered how that phrase had never been made before. While it would not help them tactically, beyond being able to track where it was at, it was still advantageous to be able to find them. Surely, the Crystalline Entity could, somehow, track biological matter across great distances. This, at least, evened the playing field a bit.

Continuing to go over the data that came back from the Away Mission, Doctor Elodin had also compiled his report from the Away Mission and had found that the Enterprise had, unusually, destroyed the Crytalline Entity with a series of graviton pulses. Pulling up the referenced report from the Enterprise, Gore couldn’t find any tactical reason the thing was destroyed, or why they chose to use that sort of methodology in the first place. It looked like Captain Picard had indicated the Entity was trying to communicate. Gore filed both pieces of information away into his own report. At the very least, he had a surefire way of both defending the Cygnus, and if necessary, going on the offensive to eliminate the threat. 

Using this information, he sent commands down to the phaser control rooms and to the torpedo magazines to begin drilling for this possible encounter. He also sent a note to Ensign Spangler about setting up the gravimetric pulse to be at the ready, just in case the Captain, or the Crystalline Entity, weren’t in the mood to try and communicate.

OFF

Lieutenant Gore

Chief Tactical/Security Officer

(as written by Captain Bane)

Lieutenant Carson stepped off the turbolift, reviewing the PaDD in his hand once again. He’d spent the last several hours reviewing the reports from the last encounter Starfleet had with the so-called ‘crystalline entity’, hoping to find any hint of a weakness they might exploit if it came to a fight. While he wasn’t concerned with the internal security of  the ship, but in the tactical side of his role, James had to be prepared to repel any threat to the ship. So far he’d come up empty; which is what led him to the ship’s labs. The research facility was quieter than he expected; not being terribly keen on the sciences, he expected to find a bustling array of serious faced researchers hovering over bubbling beakers and grand feats of Science with a capital S! Instead, he found a mostly quiet room with a sole crewman staring at a display as though he may fall asleep at any moment.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for the section chief.. an Ensign Spangler, I believe?” Carson asked the lab tech. 

The man looked up, raising his eyebrows at the presence of the security officer, not entirely hiding his lack of surprise that he was here for his boss. The tech nodded and gestured towards the Chief Science Officer’s office, grinning as the Carson turned away, wondering what Spangler had got himself into.

Albert had been reviewing the same reports from the Enterprise. Lisald had asked him about these very documents that they had both read in the Academy; the difference being Lisald actually studied, while Albert skimmed and didn’t remember a damn word. The science officer silently cursed himself as he tried to absorb as much as possible before his next encounter with his operations counterpart. The door to his office slid open, and was surprised if not relieved to see it wasn’t the very Bajoran he was just thinking of.

Carson was about to introduce himself, when he recognized the man behind the desk from his previous encounter boarding the ship. “Hey, it’s you.” James said, pausing for a moment. “You’re Ensign Spangler?”

Albert’s default blank expression spread across his face like a comfortable, neutral security blanket. It’s me? he thought, before his mind caught up with the situation and the man. Al thought about avoiding the question as he had in their first interaction, but thought better of it. “Yes, sir. Spangler.” Offering the seat across from him, Albert smiled slightly. “I hope you found.. wherever it was you were looking for alright.” 

“The.. bridge? Yes.. I did.” James responded as he sat, thrown off slightly by the science officer. His comment was polite enough, but the reminder of when they had first met didn’t quite build confidence in his task. “I apologize for interrupting, but I was hoping you could maybe help me understand what we’re dealing with. This.. crystal creature.” 

Albert nodded, putting on his best ‘knowledgeable scientist’ face for the security officer, armed with the knowledge he had just read to appear as though he was fully abreast of the matter. “Of course. We are currently working to come up with a method to track the entity; essentially following the chemical breadcrumbs it leaves in it’s wake.” Spangler gave a slight nod and shrug as though to say, ‘yep, it’s pretty impressive stuff.’ “What can I help you with, Lieutenant.”

“Well, I’ve been reviewing the reports from the Enterprise’s encounter with such a.. entity, hoping to find something I can use to defend the ship if it comes to it. Honestly, the technical analysis isn’t my forte, and I was hoping you could help me find the ‘chink in the armor’, so to speak.” Carson said. Had read the entire report, and thought about what Spangler had said, “Breadcrumbs.. like the antiprotons mentioned in the reports? I didn’t entirely understand it.. but isn’t that how the Enterprise tracked the thing?” 

“Well, sure. That’s part of it.” Spangler glanced down at the PaDD in front of him, extra-casually picking it up to find what Carson was talking about. “Of course.. there are many aspects of the entity we are looking at; it’s all very.. complicated.” He continued, reciting what relevancies he could remember as Albert continued to search the document, “Of course.. The Enterprise did destroy the entity; but the methods are not entirely clear. Their accounts say they were attempting to communicate with it, but their methods caused it’s destruction. Not the best first contact we’ve had, to be sure.” 

“They.. talked it death. Sounds like my sister.” Carson nodded slowly as he stood; not sure how successful the discussion was. “Well.. thank you, Ensign. If you come up with anything, please let me know.” 

Spangler stood as well, reaching to shake the man’s hand. “Sure thing. You should speak to Lieutenant Lisald, maybe he could be of some assistance to you.” Albert said with a smile. That should buy him sometime to get answers for both men, Al thought. He watched as the door closed behind his unexpected guest, and as soon as he was alone began aggressively reading the reports again. High levels of gamma radiation.. Antiprotons related to means of travel.. It was right there the entire time. He could kiss that damned security fella, whatever his name was. 

Normally he preferred to avoid working from the bridge when possible; but in this case he could not get there fast enough. A lead!

OFF:

A joint post by two sides of the same coin;

Ensign Albert Spangler, Acting Chief Science Officer, USS Cygnus

&

Lieutenant (JG) James Carson, Acting Chief Tactical/Security Officer, USS Cygnus

“If you tell me that things could be worse once more, I swear I’m going to actually kill you.” Crewman Robert Scott, better known as Bob, said, glaring at his work partner, Crewman William Matthews, known as Bill. Bob, of course, hated the nickname Bill and Bob, but it had stuck. They had been friends for years, of course, but he still hated it.”We’re alive, we’re comfortable, we get good food, and get to see some cool stuff.” Bill replied, not looking up from the toilet he was scrubbing with a sponge.”Yes, and we’re doing a job that should be done by the bloody computer, because of you and your idea of a practical joke. We’re lucky Valdez was willing to overlook what you did and not press the matter with the Captain, and that he calmed down Ackerly.” Bob replied, glaring at his friend. He thought back to the meeting.

“You found it funny as well, and you helped me,” Bill pointed out. Bob rolled his eyes; it was a valid point, after all…*****(Three hours earlier)Standing to attention in the Security Office, in front of Lt. JG Valdez in the security office, Bob was finding it difficult to remain at attention and not burst out laughing. Okay, he had been there, but he hadn’t expected it to go that badly. “As I understand it, you played a rather embarrassing and unpleasant practical joke on a much loved member of the crew.” Valdez said, glaring at them.”Not true sir, we played a joke on Lt. Ackerly.” Bill replied. Bob wanted to laugh even more. They may have been in trouble, but Bob always made light of things.”Not the time for smart talk. So, who wants to tell me what happened?” Valdez asked, glaring at them.”We just…wanted him to admit that he was a git.” Bill replied.”If I may sir?” Bob replied.”No, you may not.” Valdez replied. “You, deciding you wanted to loosen his lips, broke into his quarters, and reprogrammed his replicator to add truth serum to his morning coffee. When he got on duty, you then asked him why he was so uptight, hoping to embarrass him, whereby he proceeded to confess that he and his wife hadn’t been having sex, before berating his colleagues and saying how he had dressed as an old character called Spiderman to seduce his supervisor.” Valdez said. Bob finally couldn’t hold it back.”Permission to snigger, sir?” Bob asked.”Denied.” Valdez replied angrily.”May have to snigger anyway, sir.” Bob replied. He and Bill bowed their heads, sniggering softly. Valdez ignored them.”Do either of you have anything to say?” Valdez asked.”Just that he’s a smarmy git, sir.” Bill replied.”Stow it. You’re lucky he isn’t pressing charges. But for your insolence, the refreshers need cleaning. Unfortunately, Lt. Anderson tells me that five decks worth of lavatory cleaning systems aren’t working, so you’re going to clean every lavatory by hand. And I’d better not hear anything else of this, or any other practical joke. Next time, I’ll be going straight to the Commodore.” Valdez replied. “Now get out.”*****”Oh, come on, you can’t tell me he didn’t deserve it” Bill replied.

“Of course he deserved it, but you should have covered your tracks better!” Bob pointed out.

“Fine, next time you can do the reprogramming,” Bill said. Bob smiled.

“Next time?” Bob asked. Bill laughed.

“Bob, you know there’s going to be a next time,” Bill pointed out. As much as Bob wanted to object, Bill was right. With the two of them together, there was always a next time.

(Bill and Bob, as played by Lt. Erica Anderson)

Sickbay was its usual hub of activity, only even more so, given the recent personnel transfers. An unusually large numer of patients were showing up for their physical, and supplies were being transferred over to the Cygnus and stored away in their proper locations.

Elodin stepped out of his office and walked over to the mainward, breaking his stride to avoid colliding into an antigrav sled someone had left too close to the doorway.

He pushed the sled out of the way, muttering a curse meant for whoever had left this thing as a safety hazard. He walked over to the main board, and looked over the case load. Light cases, mostly physicals, a sprained ankle, and a back injury probably from hauling supplies.

Kin’Fuji was in luck as she walked into sickbay, by spotting the Chief Medical Officer. She put a smile on her blue furred fox muzzle and walked over to him. “Good day sir.” She stated pulling out her orders.

Elodin looked at the newcomer and reached out to take the data PaDD she was offering. “Hello,” he said. He glanced at the information on the PaDD. “Doctor Kin’Fuji?”

“Yes sir.” Kin’Fuji said. “I would have been a bit earlier, but one of the Nurses needed an extra pair of hands to help her out.” She explained as her three tails danced behind her.

“Welcome aboard. Why don’t we go to my office and talk,” he said, extending a hand toward the corridor leading to the Chief Medical Officer’s office.

“Alright sir.”  Kin’Fuji said with her sweet smile.

Elodin led the way to his office. He spared a glance at the Shrine to the Prophets, located in a small nook on the wall to his left, and walked over to the replicator.

“Tea?” he offered.

“Yes please.”  Kin’Fuji said.

Elodin ordered an Earl Grey for Kin’Fuji, and a Baroran Black Forest arboreal tea for himself. He picked up the beverages from the replicator and brought them over to his desk, where he motioned for Kin’Fuji to make herself comfortable.

“Doctor Kin’Fuji,” said Elodin again, raising an eyebrow inquisitively, making sure he had the right pronunciation. “Tell me a bit about your medical background. What would you say is your medical specialty?”

“I grow up around the medical profession as my mother is a Admin Nurse.”  She stated.  “I studied general and pediatric medicine.”  She added.  “With the help of my mother I learned logistics and Administration and personnel management.”  Kin’Fuji explained.

Elodin nodded. “I’m sorry to say chances are you won’t get to do too much pediatric medicine on the Cygnus. We do have a few families on board, but not that many. Did you attend medical school on Cait?”

“There is still a few families, including my own, onboard.”  Kin’Fuji said.  “I attended Medical School on Earth, where I was born and raised.”  She stated.  “Besides my skills might be helpful if we call in to assist a colony or colony vessel.”  She added.

“Indeed,” replied Elodin. “I didn’t mean to imply that your skills were of no use to the ship, quite the contrary.” He took a sip of tea, cursing himself inwardly for his clumsy remarks. “Are you active in medical research?”

“I do read up on Medical Journals.”  Kin’Fuji said.  “I like to keep myself informed about new studies in children illness and general illnesses.”  She added.

Elodin nodded. The response was rather vague, and he interpreted it as a way for Kin’Fuji to guard her privacy. “Well, we have a rather impressive medical laboratory, don’t hesitate to pursue any research endeavor you see fit.”

He took a sip of his tea. “We’re heading out into unexplored space, no idea what we’ll encounter. Have you ever been in this kind of situation?”

“Sadly no.”  Kin’Fuji said.  “This is my first deep space mission, but I am looking forward to find a new uncharted world.  I just hope every is good there and we can have a little R&R there.”

Elodin smiled. “Well, I think these will be exciting times. Not so sure about finding R&R, but there will be fascinating discoveries, I’m sure.”

He took a sip of tea and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk as he snapped back into Chief mode. “There have been a number of papers published on readiness procedures for deep space exploration. I’d like you to carry out a literature review, and then check if there’s anything lacking in our own preparation. I’ve made a few notes myself, and we’ll compare your results with what I’ve written down.”

“Of coarse, sir.”  Kin’Fuji said with a smile.  “I’ll get started on that between patients.”  She added.  “I’ll, also, cross reference the current medical staff, to see which ones have the highest experience in deep space exploration.  So we can have the more experienced mentoring those without experience.”

Elodin nodded, pleased with Kin’Fuji’s initiative. “Very good, Doctor,” he said. “How soon do you think you can get it done?”

“I’ll get right on it, sir.”  Kin’Fuji said.

“Thank you Doctor, I look forward to your report,” replied Elodin, dismissing the Caitian.

Bane looked up from the PADD that Lisald had handed him. “You are sure about this, Lieutenant?” The information contained therein was surprising.

Lisald nodded, standing in front of the Captain in his Captain’s chair on the Bridge. To Lisald’s right, the Captain’s left, Lieutenant Commander Larsen sat, watching the exchange. “Yes sir, very sure. Ensign Spangler discovered a way to track the Crystalline Entity with my help, something the crew of the USS Enterprise hadn’t come up with almost 30 years ago.”

Bane looked over at Larsen, a moment of unsaid communication going between the two. The crew of the Flagship of the Federation were the cream of the crop. To say that a method had been devised that they had not come up with was certainly a big claim. “What is this new method,” Bane asked, looking back to the Lieutenant.

“Well, we know that it consumes a considerable amount of matter. As Mr. Spangler pointed out, physics is still physics, and the remnants of that matter that is not ingested by the Crystalline Entity has to go somewhere,” Lisald started, but was interrupted.

“You are talking about waste matter, aren’t you,” Bane said.

Lisald nodded. “Yes sir, I am. It has to poop, to put it in layman terms. The Enterprise was able to track it, though with great difficulty, by looking for those telltale signs. Ensign Spangler has already attuned our sensor pallets to look for that information. While it would get us in the vicinity, we didn’t feel comfortable leaving anything to chance.”

Bane waited for the Lieutenant to continue. When it was obvious he wouldn’t without prompting, Bane said in an annoyed tone, “And what did you two come up with already? Seriously, a whole planets worth of people are now gone, not to mention all of the lower life forms. All flora and fauna had been stripped away from this planet. The atmosphere is already beginning to thin, and within a year will not be able to sustain life. All the water will sublimate and it will be a dead rock in space. Literally billions of years of history wiped out in just a few hours, Lieutenant. We need to get moving if we are to prevent this from happening to another planet and its population, and in order to get moving, I need you to stop putting on theatrics and creating drama where there needs to not be any. Do I make myself clear, Lieutenant?” Bane wasn’t mad, but he was certainly frustrated with the events of the day, and with Lieutenant Lisald specifically. For all of his education and the glowing reports that Captain Stafford and Commander Pope had left in his dossier, Bane felt the officer was in well over his head and his performance was left wanting.

Lisald was on his heels. The tongue lashing that he had just gotten was the worst by far that he had ever gotten in his entire life. His heart was pounding from the shock. His tongue felt three sizes too big for his mouth. His palms got super sweaty and his vision was suddenly tunneled. The only thing he could see was the Captain, and he could not take his eyes off him. Vaat couldn’t speak or move. He had been cold-welded to the deck plates.  

“Any time you are ready, Lieutenant. We are at your leisure, it seems,” Bane said finally.

Clearing his head, Lisald stammered forward. “I-uh, that is, we…uh, Captain Spangler…I mean, Ensign Spangler and me…I…we can…uh,” he said, looking down at his hands, exhaling loudly, expecting to see the PADD that he was carrying, and realizing it wasn’t there, wondered where it was until he spied it in his Captain’s hands. He then remembered he had given it to Captain Bane to read and approve. He wish he had that PADD again, to help him focus his thoughts. “That is, we…you, can order us, the ship…uh, to travel in the direction of the, uh, Crystalline Entity went.”

Bane was seriously out of patience with this officer. “Yes, I know I can, Lieutenant. Thank you for clarifying that. Is that all?”

Lisald looked relieved. “Uh, yes sir,” he said. As soon as he knew he could leave, his brain finally caught back up to the here and now. “Wait, no sir. I meant to tell you that even though the Crystalline Entity has left droppings in its wake, it is still hard to track it, and we don’t want to put the ship in any undue risk, so Ensign Spangler and I thought if it ate all the matter on a planet, it stands to reason it would also do the same in space. While there isn’t a great deal of organic matter in space, we all know there is still some everywhere, and we can follow the absence of that matter right to where the Crystalline Entity is now. However, the trail will quickly dissipate, within a day, maybe a little more depending on solar winds and subspace currents. We have uploaded to the navigational computers the parameters to be able to follow it, and its ready to go on your command.”

Bane nodded. He felt a little better about Lieutenant Lisald, but he felt he still had a long way to go before he proved himself in Bane’s eyes. “Very good. Please return to your station.”

“Aye sir,” Lisald said, completely relieved to be able to escape the watchful eye of the Captain, at least for the time being.

Bane looked over to his Executive Officer. “Mr. Larsen, please set in a course that Lieutenant Lisald and Ensign Spangler gave us and engage at maximum warp. Let me know when we have come within sensor range of the Crystalline Entity. We will also need to ensure the entire crew is prepared for this, and all defensive and offensive capabilities are adequate to respond to any threat of the entity. I also want options. We know the Enterprise destroyed it last time Starfleet came in contact with it. I want that to be the last resort. You have the bridge. I’ll be in my Ready Room.

OFF

Lieutenant (junior grade) Lisald Vaat

Chief Operations Officer

&

Bane Plase, Captain

USS Cygnus, Commanding

As Bane sat down behind his desk, fresh from giving Lieutenant Commander Larsen direction on getting the staff and ship moving, he tapped his computer. This would be the first time Bane had a chance to complete a log. He knew if he did not get to it soon, some bureaucrat at Starfleet Command would start sending him nasty-grams.

“Captain’s Log, Stardate 99648.2.”

“So far, this mission has been nothing if not interesting. In an unusual move, while en route to our next mission, Starfleet decided to change out several key people on the ship, including the Captain, Executive Officer and Counselor, three major positions. In an even more unusual move, all three officers came aboard from different ships rendezvousing with the Cygnus, or via shuttle, having to catch up to the Cygnus while en route.

“I have found the staffing on this ship with much to be left desired. The staff is certainly capable, but each of them, myself excluded, are extremely new to department-head level responsibility, or to command-level responsibility. The Executive Officer, Lieutenant Commander Larsen, is probably the most experienced of the crew of the ship, though he himself has never had command-level training beyond his duties as Department Head on the ill-fated USS Ascension. Time will tell if he is up to the challenges of command. It is my responsibility to make sure he is, so I will be especially hard on him until I feel he is ready. My ultimate goal with him is to get him ready for the center seat. Starfleet, as fluid as it is, could have him sitting in the Captain’s chair of the Cygnus or some other vessel before we know it.

“The next most senior officer in my estimation is the Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Elodin Devan. A Bajoran like myself and roughly 60% of the crew, he seems to me to be the most comfortable person in his or her role, owing to his several years in Starfleet, and the two years he has been assigned to this vessel. I am sure I will be leaning on him a great deal to keep abreast of the pulse of the crew, to use a medical term loosely. Although the Cygnus is a science vessel, Doctor Elodin is blessed to have the most officers assigned to his department, with the Cardassian-Bajoran Dr. Dattek-Winters, and a Cait’sune, Dr. Kin’Fuji. I am extremely comfortable to have a varied and well-mixed lineup in that department.

“Our Chief Tactical Officer, Lieutenant Gore, is an odd duck, for sure. Most of his background is in intelligence and in the spy network of Starfleet Command, and thus, his background is largely classified higher than my clearance allows. I’ve only talked to him one-on-one just once, but he seems stable, caring and has a solid disposition. It does make me wonder, however, if and when Starfleet will jerk him from under my command to assign him to another clandestine operation.

“Which leads me into another Security and Tactical Officer, Lieutenant junior grade Carsen. I’ve only seen him in passing, and have never talked to him. It seems Lieutenant Gore and Commander Larsen keep me insulated from the crew, which has its own advantages and perils. With Carsen being the Assistant Department Head, I will need to talk to Gore and Larsen to get a feel of him. Then again, I could just talk to him. I do not wish to usurp the authority and stature of Carsen’s two immediate superior officers though.

“The Chief Engineer, Lieutenant junior grade Anderson, while having been a member of this crew a bit longer than I have and some of the other officers I’ve mentioned already, should have never been put into a leadership position beyond Assistant Department Head. Per her own admission, she is more concerned and much more interested in research and development than she is starship engineering theory and practice. I have made her Acting Chief Engineer since this ship lost her Chief Engineer during the changeover of key positions I had mentioned, and we were lacking a Chief Engineer. She is a fine officer, but needs a great deal of seasoning and even more hand-holding. While I will be mentoring Lieutenant Commander Larsen, I will likely be assigning Commander Larsen to mentor Lieutenant Anderson. With any luck, we can shape her into an excellent Chief Engineer.

“Both the Chief Science Officer as well as the Chief Counselor are Ensigns. It is probably the starkest example of the lack of experience on this ship. Ensign Spangler, the acting Chief Science Officer, is, well, in a word, aloof. I have only seen him move with a sense of urgency and purpose only once. Most of the time, he meanders. I have been impressed however, that he gets his departmental reports in to Commander Larsen on time. His writing and management of the department are exemplary. I will be adding pressure to Commander Larsen to add pressure to him, to see if he can handle the strain. If he can, then he will come out shipshape. If not, well, the problem will resolve itself in due time. 

“As for Counselor Scott, she seems like an incredibly sweet woman, and seems like she cares deeply for the mental and emotional well-being of this crew. However, she is incredibly green, obviously so. I will be interested if she will keep up with the same zeal, gusto and sunny disposition in which I was greeted from her. She has some really good ideas about keeping morale up among the crew, which she tells me I am not invited to, and also some very unorthodox ideas and plans. If it turns out to be a disruption to the good order and discipline of the crew, I will of course stop it. It is my hopes that she will manage her events and ideas within the rules and regulations of shipboard activities in which she is expected to follow, and also keep crew morale, mental and emotional health to a high standard.

“The Assistant Chief of Operations is also extremely new, Ensign Robinson. I haven’t spoken to her directly yet either. She came over from the Ascension with Commander Larsen. He vouches for her and tells me she is a high-quality officer. I have not yet seen that of her, but then again, there also hasn’t been a lot of opportunity. I will be keeping my eye on her, and possibly giving her expanded responsibilities, should she prove herself enough to warrant them, and be able to handle them.

“My final official review of the crew of the Cygnus is a poor one, unfortunately. The Chief of Operations, Lieutenant junior grade Lisald Vaat, leaves much to be desired. I’ve watched him work, and his quality is left wanting. He is eager to please, too eager, and loves to drum up drama and click-bait. I am not impressed with Lieutenant Lisald, and even less impressed when considering he holds a doctorate degree. It seems to me that he should be one of the best officers on this ship, having managed the Science Department before I came aboard, and managing the Operations of the ship now. If I had an option, I would transfer him off the ship and get someone with a great deal more experience to manage the department. A ship of this size and complexity needs a Second Officer, a position generally reserved to the Chief of Operations, but it will be over my dead body that he gets involved in command. Looking over his Officer Performance Report, my predecessor, Captain Stafford, sung his praises and took Lieutenant Lisald under his wing, and was even administering Academy Command Extension Courses to him, with the help of the previous XO, Commander Pope. I’ve put a stop to that, as I do not believe he is ready.

“On a personal note, it truly boggles my mind that, with the exception of a few notable officers and crew, the crew assigned to this ship is very green or not ready for leadership positions. I have put in an official request for more officers with greater experience to Starfleet Command, but have yet to hear back on that. If I am granted this request, I already have a few officers in mind I would like to bring her from my old ship, the USS Sentinel who I think would be well-deserving of leadership roles, and would benefit from the experience in continuing on their careers and their marches to their respective goals.

“Moving on to the mission at hand, the Cygnus has been tasked with making First Contact with a new space-faring civilization called The Commonwealth, roughly on the back-side of Cardassian Space. Upon arrival to the designated star system, we surveyed the planets within the system and discovered that the third planet used to harbor intelligent life, as evidenced by the satellites in orbit, as well as the multitude of cities on the planet, extensive transportation networks and subterranean infrastructure for waste material extraction, water allocation and advanced tectonic management systems. I sent an away team to the surface, commanded by Lieutenant Commander Larsen, when we found out nobody was home, and it was reported back that it appeared all organic matter had been stripped from the planet, from the most complex humanoid life to the microscopic single-celled organisms. Upon further investigation, several pieces of evidence has led us to believe this planet was attacked by the Crystalline Entity. The crew has come up with a way to track it, and we are about to break orbit now to find it. We are working on several options at this time in the event we find it. It is our hope that we can stop it or sway it to steer clear of Cardassian space, Bajoran space and other life-sustaining worlds in this region.

“End log.”

Bane Plase, Captain

USS Cygnus, Commanding

As the Captain departed the Bridge, Erik took his seat. Slowly, almost leisurely. The actions they were taking now…and we’re going to take in the near future…weighed heavily upon the Executive Officer’s mind. He shook his head slightly, as if that would grant him some additional measure of clarity or focus.  

“Mister Lisald, forward your course to the helm,” said Erik calmly. “Engage at maximum warp.“ He drummed his fingers on the small console attached to his seat. “Also, have an escape vector ready to engage at a moment’s notice.“ Erik realized that he had not been ordered to program an escape route, but part of his job was to anticipate the Captain’s orders and having a backup plan just made sense. 

 

The Helmsman acknowledged the orders, and the Cygnus began to move in a smooth arc away from the planet’s gravity well. In a matter of moments, the ship was clear and began accelerating at many times faster than light toward what they hoped would be the Crystalline Entity. 

The scientist in Erik cried out silently, raging against the inner turmoil that he felt. As a person that has devoted his entire adult life to the pursuit of truth, he wanted to study the Entity in the most minute of detail and discover its origins. But as a Starfleet Officer sworn to protect the officers and crew of the Cygnus as well as the people of the Federation and the galaxy, he wanted to put a stop to this thing once and for all. It has not just killed sentient beings, fauna and flora…it has wiped an entire civilization from history, with only their depopulated cities standing as a shattered monument to the fact that they had ever existed.  

Omicron Theta. Forlat III. Melona IV. And now The Commonwealth. All wiped from existence because of that monster. This has to end, here and now.    

Erik Larsen could not drive these thoughts from his mind. He has studied the research of Dr. Kila Marr, and the logs of the Enterprise-D, and was familiar with how she had destroyed that Entity. He was reasonably certain that he could adapt that technique for the Cygnus. The Captain would almost certainly want to attempt communication. 

All they needed to do now was wait. 

The Nebula-class USS Cygnus had been at high warp for almost two days. More than once, Lieutenant Anderson had called up to the Bridge complaining that she had all four of her shifts working double just to keep the warp core from overheating, the plasma manifolds from burning away, and the power control network from shorting out. It had been all she could do, she complained earlier, to Commander Larsen, who then took the report to the Captain. Every time it was brought to his attention, Bane reiterated his orders that the Cygnus needed to find this Crystalline Entity before it found another fuel source in the way of a starship, planet or colony.

Stress had been high the last few days, too. Lieutenant Gore had been running drill after drill with different scenarios at different times of the day and night to keep people sharp. Like a knife, the crew had an edge, but unlike said knife, the edge was detrimental. People were tired, cranky, stressed out and otherwise bent out of shape. If anything went sideways, Bane worried, would they be able to perform at peak efficiency. That question would have an answer, one way or another, in due time.

Lieutenant Lisald had also mentioned, though quietly, that the power needed to be running all the ship systems as the First Officer and Captain had ordered were just wasn’t there. Lisald and Anderson had even come up with quite the genius idea of tapping into the spare auxiliary craft that were currently aboard (thanks to Commander Larsen, Ensign Robinson and Counselor Scott coming aboard), but the power transfer lost a great deal between shuttle and ship. Even with that extra power, it still wasn’t enough, plus the extra manpower that was needed to maintain those shuttles, from Operations, Engineering and Security, almost seemed like a hinderance rather than a help, but Lisald was adamant that the extra power gained did help some.

Yesterday, Bane listened in during the staff briefing between his Senior Staff about what to do when they finally came in contact with the Crystalline Entity. Lieutenant Gore, predictably, wanted to use every method available to destroy it before it caused any more destruction. Surprisingly to Bane, Commander Larsen agreed, and argued vehemently on destroying it using the technique the USS Enterprise-D used almost 30 years ago. Bane had assumed the former Chief Science Officer would be much more inclined to try and learn about it, and maybe make some sort of contact with it. Lieutenant Lisald had other recommendations and tried to persuade both Dr. Elodin and Ensign Spangler to take his side in the matter. Bane, for his part, remained neutral. He had asked for options, and the conference room had all but exploded in ideas, arguments, flared tempers and persuasive argument that lasted for almost a solid hour.  At the end, nothing had been accomplished except the two factions being at each others throats.

Bane had heard, both through passing as well as reports from Commander Larsen that the Lower Decks were getting antsy and strung out with the extra duty load and disruption to the normal daily routine of ship life, and the seemingly indecision from the Senior Staff on what would happen when they came in contact with the Crystalline Entity. Even Counselor Scott had mentioned that some sort of festival needed to be held aboard ship to break up the monotony and to infuse a little bit of extra life into the corridors of the ship. On the last part, Bane agreed, and on his way to the Bridge this morning from his quarters (which he still needed to unpack his belongings fully and decorate his quarters), he saw an actual paper flyer in the turbolift about some sort of get together in the Shuttlebay, date to be determined. He was surprised at the graphics and the use of paper; both were a nice touch and would stand out to anyone that bothered to look eye level. He thought he would like to go, but decided against it almost as soon as the thought entered his head. The Captain being there would officially make it a ship function and, well, not fun. 

He remembered once Captain McManus saying, right after Bane had come aboard the USS Pegasus-D, fresh out of the Academy, that it was often lonely at the top. At the time, Bane couldn’t begin to fathom what that meant. Everyone wanted to be friends with the Captain. Everyone wanted to bend his ear. Everyone knew him and wanted a piece of his attention. How could he be lonely? As time went on, he began to notice that Captain McManus was never at any events held aboard that Akira-class starship. When command passed from McManus to Captain Montgomery, he noticed the same thing, and began to wonder about it. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that if the Captain were there, none of the crew would be able to relax, to “let their hair down,” as Captain Montgomery once told the then-Executive Officer Bane, and Bane knew he was right. Once Bane assumed command of the Pegasus, then the Bloembergen, the Sentinel and now finally the Cygnus, Bane understood it all too well.

As Bane looked at the master status display between his and Commander Larsen’s chair, a voice spoke up from behind him. “Captain, I am picking up intermittent readings. They are consistent with previous readings from the Crystalline Entity,” Gore stated.

Bane looked up to Lieutenant Lisald. “Lieutenant Lisald, verify,” Bane ordered. 

For several moments, Lisald tapped at his controls. Without looking back, he said, “Confirmed, Captain. Crystalline Entity readings are coming from 006 mark 359.”

Next to Lisald at the Conn, Ensign Alan Roberts piped up. “Sir, shall I adjust course to intercept?”

Bane didn’t even hesistate. “Yes Ensign Roberts, thank you.” Roberts nodded and input the course correction into the helm. A moment later, the colossal ship responded, the starfield on the viewscreen adjusting to the right a little, and pitching downwards a bit more.

“Allocating power to the sensors,” Lisald stated, anticipating the need for higher resolution for study as well as for accurate targeting. Either way, Lisald was covered.

“Good work, Lieutenant,” Bane said, then looked to the ceiling. “All hands, this is Captain Bane. We have tracked down the Crystalline Entity. Yellow Alert.” The lights on the Bridge, and everywhere on the ship, dimmed a bit, and the amber lights near the ceiling began to glow on and off in 3-second intervals, just enough time to keep it front in everyone’s mind that they were at a heighted state of alertness, but not so fast that it would prove to be distracting. “Tactical, I want firing solutions and attack and defensive patterns programmed into the computer. Medical, prepare for incoming wounded. Helm, keep your hands on those controls. Science, attempt to communicate with it, let it know we mean it no harm. Engineering, deploy your repair crews and shore up the warp core. Ops, funnel everything you got into the tactical and science systems. Everything else is secondary.”

Bane looked around for a moment at each of the people on the bridge, and took a moment to think about all the souls belowdecks, knowing they were working and doing their jobs to the best of their abilities. They were prepared. “Alright people, lets get to work. Helm, take us in.”

OFF

Bane Plase, Captain

USS Cygnus, Commanding

Sickbay was its usual bustle of activity when Elodin Devan stepped out of his office. The past hour had been its usual headache of trying to make the next month’s schedule, as several of the nurses had asked for specific shift changes – some of which he could agree to, but others that would leave them understaffed. He’d been left with no choice but to impose a few double shifts, something he’d always been reluctant to do. He knew there would be some complaining from the staff, but it was either that, or refuse the shift changes they’d asked for…

He walked over to the nurses’ station and was preparing to bring the schedule up on the monitor when the Sickbay doors parted, and Lieutenant Gore, the ship’s new Security Chief, walked through.

Gore was not particularly enthused at the idea of ever visiting a sickbay, but it was part of any new assignment to take on the ‘dreaded’ Starfleet-mandated physical examination. Perhaps it would have been a bit easier if didn’t usually turn into a Barnum and Bailey show the first few visits because of his fairly obvious implants. Fairly few physicians had seen any of these in perhaps a century or so. The novelty did wear off over time, but going through the process every time had become a drag.

His glowing red eyes scanned the room. All kinds of tactically relevant information such as illumination and temperature levels, potential cover and emergency exit routes, location, genders, species, height and estimated weight of the personnel in the room, potential improvised weapons and other information flashed across his field of vision. Setting all of this aside, he looked for an officer among them. Any of them would do, of course, but perhaps meeting the chief medical officer would be a good idea.

“Lieutenant,” called out Elodin, catching the man’s attention and waving him over to a biobed. “I assume you’re here for your physical,” he said, quite confident that no one had summoned Security.

Guided by the voice calling to him, Gore turned to face the doctor. “I’m afraid not, Doc” he said assuming a serious tone. “I am here to escort you to the brig. I strongly advise you do not resist” he continued as he made his way towards Elodin.

Elodin stopped in his tracks and turned to face the new officer. “Aren’t you going to be a hoot on the Bridge,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He waved again at the biobed. “Come on, I don’t have all day.”

Gore had to laugh. “You are the first in my career to not fall for that, Doctor,” he said, making his way over to where the Chief Medical Officer was patting the biobed, an invitation to sit on it. Gore lifted himself a little bit and sat down. “You are also one of the first to not make a comment or stare uncontrollably at my implants.”

“Believe it or not,” said Elodin as he started setting up the biobed for the physical exam, “I’ve seen implants like these before. Not that specific model, of course, but close enough. Yours are an old model, but the ones I saw… You’d be surprised what we had to work with in some of the refugee camps.”

Gore nodded, causing one of the diagnostic lights to shine directly into his eyepiece. Painful, but it was his own mistake. Wincing aside, he responded, “Thats right, you are Bajoran. I assume you remember the Occupation,” he asked.

“Yes,” replied Elodin. “But even after the Occupation, we had to resort to these sorts of older implants, for the simple reason that there was nothing else available, unless you were in one of the major cities on Bajor itself. Resources were very scarce on the moons or in the more rural areas.”

He took note of Gore’s photosensitivity, and dimmed the lights a bit. “Have you ever been evaluated for cloned implants?”

The relief of the dimmed lights was welcome to Gore, more than he would admit. “I have, yes. However, I am not interested in them.” He held up his hand, miming the Doctor to stop his recommendations that he knew were coming. “I know they would be self-calibrating, and I know they would allow me to see better, and to be able to handle things better with the added function of tactile feeling for my arm and hand, but the tactical data I am able to see when I look at something is extremely beneficial to me, especially with my background and in my current role as Chief Tactical Officer and Chief of Security,” he said. “And the arm piece gives me additional strength and agility, which could be, and has been, quite helpful.” He thought about asking the Doc more about himself, but he sensed the Doctor didn’t care to talk about it, at least, at this stage in their working relationship. Instead, he pivoted the conversation. “You and the Captain are about the same age, I think, and you both are Bajoran. Did he participate in driving the Cardassian Occupation off of Bajor? Did you two know each other back then?”

“I didn’t know the Captain until he came on board this ship a few weeks ago,” replied Elodin, making notes in Gore’s medical file. “I know he was involved in the Resistance, but I don’t know any of the specifics. There were reasons why msot of us were kept uninformed of other cells’ activities – you can’t be tortured into revealing what you don’t know.”

He adjusted the medical scanners and performed additional scans. “Besides the implants, what can you tell me about your medical history?”

Gore understood the implications of what the Doctor was telling him. In a way, his own past was the same, keeping all of the agents compartmentalized as to ensure nobody knew too much, and no one agent could affect the greater organization any more than his own small part. In that way, he related to both the Doctor as well as the Captain, and had a newfound respect for both, not that he would share that information, of course. “My medical history is, how shall we say, extensive. I’ve had my skull cracked three times, suffered innumerable concussions, had all but two of my original teeth replaced, broken my neck twice, broken by back in five different locations, had both of my lungs lacerated by my ribcage, one one time, and the other one a different time, broken all but one rib, my spleen has been replaced as well as my ventricle valve on my heart with a cloned version of my original. My liver was severely damaged and one third of it was removed, but the doctor at the time told me it is the one organ in the Brekkian body that regenerates itself, so I am not sure that counts. My pelvis was crushed at one point, and I lost one testicle because of it. Thankfully all that stuff down there still works though, if you know what I mean.” He inhaled and continued. I have broke my left femur twice and my right one three times. My right kneecap is also artificial. Finally, I sprained my left ankle a few weeks before I came aboard. Now that I think about it, my feet are just fine. I’ve never had a problem with either of them,” he said, swinging his feet like a child from the biobed.

Elodin nodded and ran a hand through his thick blond hair. This case was among some of the more unusual he’d seen in his career. It was pretty much pointless to take down a medical history, since just about every organ in the Lieutenant’s body had been replaced. The best he could do was to establish a baseline based on current observations, so he’d at least have something to refer to should the need arise. But was this the Brekkian’s true baseline?

“How are you feeling today? Anything bothering you?”

Gore thought for a moment. “Other than my frustrations with some of the paperwork needed to do as a Department Head, I cannot think of anything,” Gore teased. “No Doctor, nothing physically is bothering me. I feel just fine.”

The medical officer finished typing a few notes in the Lieutenant’s file, before shutting off the scanners. “All right,” he said finally. “I think I’ve got just about all I need here. Unless there’s anything else you think I should know?”

Gore smiled, his red eye shining brighter somehow, giving off an eerie red and black shadow on top of his cheekbone and across his brow. “Nope Doc, nothing today.” He hopped off the biobed like he was 12, being released by Doctor Elodin to return to duty. “Thanks a bundle, Doc Elodin. Have a great day!” Without waiting for a response, which was the custom of his world, Gore marched towards the exit. As he reached it, two crewmen came through. Based on how he was walking, sure of himself and his station, the two cleared the way for him, one to the right, the other to the left, standing at attention until he passed. 

OFF

A JP long in the works, by:

Lieutenant GoreChief Security OfficerUSS Cygnus

and

Doctor Elodin Devan, Chief Medical Officer

“Doctor Elodin,” came the computer’s disembodied voice. “Incoming communication from Doctor Tarsa Kh’Ridian.”

“Acknowledged, patch it through to my office,” replied Elodin.

He leaned forward and tapped a button on his monitor, bringing up the letter from Kh’Ridian. The Deltan medical officer had been his right hand during his volunteer assignment for Doctors Without Borders, two years prior, serving on Capella IV to help erradicate a deadly virus that was slowly killing the population. He’d managed to find a cure, one that would protect the children, at least – the ones who were the most affected by the virus. 

But now, as he read Kh’Ridian’s note, he felt his shoulders slump with disappointment. A new variant of the virus had been detected, one that was impervious to the cure he’d found. Kh’Ridian was sending along the genetic profile of the new variant, in the hope that Elodin might be able to adapt the cure to the new conditions.

Elodin transferred the information to a data PaDD. He walked out of his office, and over to the med research lab.

“Elodin to Doctor Winters. Please meet me in the medical lab.”

=^= Winters here Doctor, on my way =^=  Ravi lost no time reporting to the Lab.  She had seen Elodin at the CO’s meeting but not had a chance to meet or work with him formally yet so she wanted to make a good first impression.

As she got to the Lab door she straightened her tunic and rubbed her hand over her hair instinctively, thought to herself for a split second that those were not necessary precautions but then let that thought go as fast as it flicked by.  Entering she crossed the large, impressively equipped lab and breathed calmly, smiling softly and heading straight over to the CMO with her hand outstretched to greet him.  “Dr Elodin, I’m Winters.  Very happy to meet you, Sir”  she said.

Elodin took the hand that Winters extended, and shook it briskly. “Welcome aboard,” he said. “Tell me about your medical background. Where did you complete your residency?”

“Thank you Sir, glad to be here” she replied and stood in front of his desk at attention.  

“Straight out of the Academy I went to the McCoy Medical Centre in the City – I wanted to specialise so I took a major in genetics and did a concurrent minor in AI” she explained.  “I did my first ship assignments on the USSs Merlin and Sentinel – as Ensign and then my first Lt (jg) posting as well.  I’m hoping all the way out here, this will be a more challenging role and a different source of research possibilities too.” 

“Any expertise in virology?” asked Elodin. He slid the data PaDD across the counter in her direction. “Capella IV is dealing with an epidemic caused by what seems to be a strange hybrid between a Filoviridae-type viral agent, and a Paramyxovirus. I was successful in developing a vaccine last year, but now it seems they’re dealing with a new variant against which the vaccine is ineffective. I need a fresh set of eyes to take a look at the data.”

“Well, I can’t honestly claim ‘expertise’ Sir, but I’d be more than happy to take a look and see if anything catches my eye amongst the data.  Sometimes new variants can be sneaky and it means a counter tweak on the vaccine to cut off their new strain.  Often the original vaccines are partway there, I’m sure I could see what could be added in to get effective results back again.”  Ravi replied, brightening at the idea of a bit of laboratory detective work.  Some might have thought it a bit beige but Ravi knew from personal experience how much a decent vaccine could mean, and if all she had to do was to tweak an already good one into a sparkly new upgrade to save a lot of lives then she was more that excited to get the chance to get stuck in.

Instinctively looking around herself and across the lab facilities, Ravi almost expected there to be a station ready set up and waiting for her to take up and get started but she realised quickly that was jumping ahead a step too far.  Actually, come to think of it, the CMO had asked her about it but he hadn’t said he wanted her to start right this minute and perhaps he mightn’t mean to give the project to her after all, perhaps he was just asking.  She mustn’t ‘take the bit in her mouth’ and start charging off before she’d been fully briefed and instructed.

She returned her gaze to Dr Elodin and waited with a sense of anticipation for him to clarify what he wanted her to do next or if there was something else to do first? 

Elodin pushed a data PaDD across the table in her direction. “We’ve got the genetic sequence for both the original virus and the new variant. My initial analysis was that it attached to a specific receptor on the alveolar cell surface, and delivered its payload to cause a breakdown in the capilary barrier, which caused the patients’ lungs to fill with blood. Eventually the patients drowned in their own blood.” He repressed a shudder at the memories that still haunted him two years later. “The initial vaccine blocked the receptor, but the virus seems to have found a way around that. I’d like you to take a look at the data, and see if you can find a countermeasure. We’ve got a few lab techs on standby to assist, and you can use whatever resources you need in our medical labs. Let me know if you need any additional information from the field, and I’ll get in touch with my local contact. The Capellans are culturally sensitive about such matters, so I have to use back channels.”

“I’m on it Sir, right away.” she responded and took up the PADD.  “I’ll report back any progress as soon as it happens, and directly to yourself.” she added as she began to take in the data and disconnect from her surroundings as it absorbed her.

“Thank you,” replied Elodin. He gave her a parting nos, and left her to her work.

On receiving the communication from the Chief Medical Officer over her Comm Badge, Ravi responded with a quick tap of the badge and an =^= Aye Sir =^=.  Handing over in an instant to the Nurse beside her, she put the medcorder she had been using into the medic’s hand and asked her to “Take over with this patient please, Ensign Lowry, I don’t know how long I will be wanted for with the CMO”.  

Lowry nodded in agreement and took the medcorder she was being offered, she continued scanning the man in Bay 4, Bed 2 and began to speak to him reassuringly.  “I’ll have this all wrapped up in a jiffy.  Let’s see what your chart says shall we?”

Happy with the situation she was leaving, Winters hurried out and took herself the short distance necessary to find the Medical Briefing Rooms.  They weren’t somewhere she had been yet but then again, she had heard of them, seen the signs and had a very good idea where to aim.  Two was obviously the second one in, no big deal there so she tapped on the door as she began to open it and put her head around the door to see if she was about to be invited in – or told that she was too quick in arriving and should wait outside.  She supposed it all hung on what the summons was about. 

“Dr Elodin?” she asked and then waited for the CMO to look up and respond.

Elodin was hunched over the computer screen, trying to sort through the data so he could present the team with something remotely coherent. He gave a bit of a start at the sound of the doctor entering the room, then cursed himself inwardly for being surprised – he’d been the one to summon her, after all.

“Yes, Doctor, please come in. Why don’t you help yourself to the replicator while we wait for Doctor Kin’Fuji to arrive?”

Kin’Fuji arrived to the meeting a bit late.  Her hair and fur was still a little damp, from the shower.  “Sorry sir, I am late.”

Elodin pushed a button on the computer console, and a holographic representation of the Crystalline Entity appeared, floating above the table, rotating slowly. “I assume you’ve heard of the Crystalline Entity, or as they are sometimes referred to, Branchers. These living entities absorb organic matter, and transform it into energy that they need. Our task is to try to determine if it’s possible to develop a way to prevent this process from taking place.”

Kin’Fuji cocked an eyebrow at the appearance of the crystalline entity.  “Do we have more destroyed colonies?”  She asked the Chief Medical Officer.

Elodin nodded gravely. “The planet that we just visited,” he said. “All organic matter was wiped out, right down to the soil bacteria. I think the Science department is trying to figure out how long ago.”

“Doctors, if we find a way to stop it feeding, does it have the sentience to understand and will it retaliate? And whether it does or not, will it starve to death as a result?”  Ravi asked next, wondering from which angle to look at this.  

“Clearly no-one on colonies should have to die, especially to feed an entity that appears to be a mass killer, leaving nothing behind to continue on post-visit. We have a duty to protect them if we can but in the balance of life almost everywhere, existence usually still goes on for other species, even if depleted in numbers after a predator has fed and moved on.  This super-killer has to be stopped, that’s clear,  but is there anything at all that we could do to offer it some other, more harmless way to feed? Do we know – or could we maybe discover,  any other type of energy it might be able to feed on instead?”  she went on, trying to work out the whole picture without having to reap death in a similar way to the entity, by wiping out it as a species in the way it was apparently doing to others. 

“I don’t like the idea of becoming the species that wiped out the Entity’s species – doesn’t that make us as bad as it is?” she offered, concerned. 

Elodin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Clearly the thing is able to feed on any form of organic matter, and there is nothing to suggest that it prefers that organic matter to be sentient. Looking at the data from the Enterprise, it certainly looked like it was possible to establish communication with the Entity, but there is no indication as to the level of intelligence of this thing. For all we know, it could have all of the intelligence of a goldfish. But I agree that destroying this creature is morally abhorrent, and should only be considered a last resort. Other teams are most likely looking into diverting it toward alternative sources of nourishment, but our immediate task is to find a way prevent it from consuming that life which we need to protect – intelligent life.”

Ravi nodded in serious agreement.  She had just had the thought and voiced it without much forethought of how it might be received – she was a bit like that, she had to admit.  Thoughts came to her and she just discussed them openly, it had been natural in the family that had adopted her but since she had left home and joined the Fleet, such spontaneous comments had got her into a fair few situations since even her Academy days.  Sometimes just a simple debate didn’t automatically follow, especially if she hadn’t perhaps remembered that she was new here and this was no way to leap on her new Boss without gentling it down a bit on delivery.

Fortunately, the said Boss had replied with a similar line of thinking and attitude and hadn’t seemed to mind.

“How can we test our subject and theories though Sir?” she corrected the former lack of deference by using ‘Sir’ appropriately this time.  “I didn’t immediately spot any useful data in the files that tells us anything about how it feeds?  I’m only getting the generic idea that it just arrives and strips everything to the stone like a plague of locusts without any discrimination.  How could we offer it alternative food that it wouldn’t just gorge and decimate – including the surrounding metaphorical ‘dish, table and restaurant’ at the same time? You’re right about us having to find out how to communicate, and to assess what level of sentience it has itself”  she agreed.  

“Most of these questions I think should be addressed first and foremost to other departments,” mused Elodin. “The Science department should be investigating how to divert this creature away from inhabited planets, and Engineering should be able to figure out how to block the Entity’s feeding mechanism, which from the Enterprise’s data seems to be some form of compressed tetryon beam. But our job is to figure out how to prevent biological matter from being converted into energy, should those two lines of defense fail.”

He brought up a holodisplay representing the sensor readouts from the Enterprise’s recording of the attack on Melona Colony. “This is the data we have. Granted, it’s over thirty years old, but it’s all we have. The tetryon beam seems to sublimate biological matter right down at the atomic level. I’m not sure that any kind of medication would prevent the process, but I’m open to suggestions,” he invited.

Spangler sat down with his coffee, taking a moment to loving take in the aroma of beverage that represented a probable chemical addiction. He stared at the liquid, watched as the steam escaped the mug in a delightful swirl. The meager additions of cream and sugar turning the turbid brown substance ever so slightly opaque. It almost brought a tear to his eye. Albert took a deep breath as he looked up, a truly content smile taking over his typically cynical expression. 

The moment of simple satisfaction remained, until he remembered that Lieutenant Lisald was sitting at the table with him. “Oh. Hey there.. fella.” Albert’s smile held as he spoke, embracing the caffeinated haze.

Lisald had watched the exchange between Spangler and his beverage with rapt fascination. “Would you two like to be alone? Seems to be quite the love affair,” he teased.

The expression on Albert’s face didn’t change, although he did blink a couple times. “I would, but.. this crystal thing ain’t gonna find itself.” Spangler sighed slightly, before lowering the coffee and picking up the PaDD on the table and handing it to the Bajoran. “I was looking over the Enterprise’s reports again. Found this; how they tracked it. We’re on the right path, I think.”

Lisald took the PaDD and tapped at it a few times, his brow deepening a few times as he went over it. “There is a lot of information in here, but what I am gathering,” he said, scrolling back through it again briefly to get to the part that he was most interested in, “Comes from a report completed by Lieutenant Commander Data,” he looked up in astonishment. “Wait, was that the android officer on that ship? Man, how wild would it be to have a Synth as an officer aboard the ship, huh?” The task at hand had been forgotten.

“I hope he was, name like ‘Data’. His father, Mr. Calculator, and his other father Doctor Math.” Albert responded with a raised eyebrow. “Sounds like a real fun guy to be around.”

Lisald snorted. “I wonder how it would be taking orders from a Synth. How do you suppose he got the rank of Lieutenant Commander? Seems pretty high up to me. Maybe it was honorary in some way?” He looked back down to the PaDD. “It says here he was Chief of Operations for the Enterprise. Same position I’m in.”

Spangler’s eyes narrowed, “He was clearly a better robo-person than you.” He mused, wondering if it wad too late to trade Lisald in for a Data, “Should work on that.”

Lisald stuck his tongue out at Spangler, his way of responding to the jab. Getting back to the task at hand, he looked back down at the PaDD. “So the Crystalline Entity expels waste matter, which is how the Enterprise tracked it last time Starfleet encountered it. My uncle back home hunts all the time for the prairie moomba, and has told me more than once that tracking its scat is a surefire way to hunt it and find out where it is. If it works for him, and it worked for the Enterprise, then it should work for us.” As the words slipped out of his mouth, he had another thought. “If you knew this already and have the information in front of you, how come you have not presented this to Commander Larsen or Captain Bane? What are you thinking?”

Neither of those suggestions had occurred to Spangler, honestly. When he found what they had been looking for his first and only thought was to show Lisald. It was a thinker to be sure; in part it was because he thought that his friend might be the only one who would listen, his own self doubts lingered, or maybe he was just excited to show the man what he found? Nevertheless, Albert tried to play it off with a shrug, “Peer review, of course. Don’t tell me leaving the lab has already made you forget the scientific method.”

Vaat snorted. “Not quite,” he said humorously. He looked back over it again, a bit more carefully, since he was doing a peer review. Now that Spangler was including him, his name would be all over it, and he wanted to make sure that everything was thought of as much as possible. “Well, lets see, we know we can follow crystal scat,” he looked up at Spangler. “There is a phrase I never thought I would utter. So yeah, we know we can follow that, but it says here the Enterprise, the Flagship of the Fleet and arguably the most advanced of the time, struggled to track it. I wonder if there is some other method we could use to find it,” he said, trailing off, hoping Spangler would see it with fresher eyes than his own.

“That’s a phrase I never thought I would hear.” Albert sighed, eyes narrowing slightly. He stared at the PaDD, trying to come up with something. It didn’t work. Spangler shrugged, and turned the device upside down. It still didn’t make more sense, but at least he knew why now. “Maybe we could bait it with something, leave a pile of crystal-munchies for it and.. a big ass net?”

Lisald side-eyed his friend. “Should we leave a trail of marijuana for it as well, with the munchies at the end? We could apply red and blue strobe lights on the dorsal saucer as the trap,” he said sarcastically. “I’m sure Commander Larsen would be all up for that.”

“Naaah.. How’s it supposed to light up in space? No oxygen.” Spangler moved his head back and forth, still considering the Scooby-Doo-iest of ideas. “You think we could attract it to us? I mean, we have an idea what to look for in a trail. Maybe we could get it to come to us, too?”

The Bajoran Chief of Operations looked at Spangler full on. “That seems rather dangerous. I mean, I am positive our shields can protect us, but why invite danger? What are you thinking?”

Spangler shrugged, his inner slacker speaking to him, “Any more dangerous than us looking for it?” He thought about it, and shrugged again after a brief pause. “I’d say 50/50 odds we’re all gonna end up as crystal-poop anyway, might as well make it find us.” 

Vaat smiled despite himself at the poop comment. No matter the race, and no matter how old they were, males across worlds always found poop or fart related comments humorous. Gathering himself, he said, “You aren’t wrong about that, I suppose. So what is this idea, and how far-fetched is it?”

The two worked well into the evening and night, working on the solution and working to get all the information in order and broken down to the simplest terms to give to Lieutenant Commander Larsen and Captain Bane. Neither of them were dumb men, of course, but still, better to err on the side of caution. The plan Ensign Spangler and Lieutenant Lisald came up with could go a long way to ensuring none of them were left un-alive.

OFF

Ensign Spangler, Egg-Head Extraordinaire

Lieutenant Lisald, less-of-an-Egg-Head Extraordinaire

“Captain, I have the Crystalline Entity on long range scans,” Lieutenant Gore said from his station directly behind the command center where Captain Bane and Lieutenant Commander Larsen sat. Currently, only Captain Bane was sitting there, the Executive Officer on his off time. “It is on a course of 180 mark 001, moving directly away from us, almost on our exact plane, sir.”

“Confirmed readings, Captain,” Lieutenant Lisald said from in front of Bane, and slightly to his left. “The trail we were able to pick up on sensors has led us right to it,” he said, his voice a little too triumphant. Lisald couldn’t wait to tell Spangler that their idea had worked. Spangler had said something like this being the Yellow Brick Road. Lisald had no idea what that meant and had said so. Spangler, true to his fashion, said something even more cryptic, stating that Lisald would understand when Vaat’s house landed on the witch. Before Lisald could ask more, Spangler had left the Science Lab, squawking about ruby slippers and a scarecrow that desperately needed math lessons.

“Thank you both,” Bane said, leaning forward, resting his right elbow on the armchair, and resting his chin in his fingers, in thought. “Steady as she goes, Vaat,” he ordered, both for the heading and speed of the ship and to calm the young Lieutenant down a bit. “Any indication it has spotted us?” He didn’t care who answered.

A moment passed before anyone answered. It was Lieutenant Gore that did so. “Not yet, Captain. It is possible we are outside of its field of view, coming up behind it.”

Bane nodded, happy that they had the element of surprise. “Good. Bring us to Yellow Alert, Lieutenant,” he said to Gore. “Lieutenant Lisald, please recall all Senior Officers to the Bridge.” It was almost unnecessary for Bane to ask that of one of his officers, as the heightened alert would cause all Senior Officers to report to their posts. It was not customary for the Chief Medical Officer or the Chief Engineer to report to the Bridge during a crisis; they generally went to Sickbay and to Main Engineering, respectively. However, Bane wanted all resources available to him this time. He was not a scientist nor a matter/energy engineer; therefore he needed his people here to help him make all the right decisions.

“Aye Captain,” Both Lisald and Gore said in unison. A split second later, the lights dimmed slightly and the amber alert lights began to blink in three-second intervals. The computer announced the yellow alert throughout the ship, and Bane knew in every section on every deck of the USS Cygnus people began making their way to their stations, just in case they were needed or things went south.

“Bridge to all Senior Officers. Please report to the Bridge,” Lisald ordered. There would be several acknowledgements, but he would largely ignore them unless he didn’t hear from someone.

“What is it headed towards, Mr. Lisald?”

“Checking,” he said, his fingers flying over the Ops station like he had been there his whole career. Bane noticed that and filed that away for future remarks. “It appears to be headed for Keldor III, a Cardassian world, situated about an hour and half at maximum warp from their border.”

“Confirmed, Captain,” Gore said. “I’ve been there. It is heavily populated, almost a billion Cardassians. It is a heavily-industrialized world with state-of-the-art defenses, communication networks, sensor relays and orbital platforms for planetary weather control. There are also smaller settlements on two of the moons of that world, as well as mining operations in the systems asteroid belt. The last time I reviewed the security briefing for that system, albeit more than a year ago now, that system was also home to the Cardassian Dragoons, a small and woefully inadequate defense wing of their self-defense force. However, I cannot confirm that at this distance, sir. I understand the Dragoons used to be one of the most powerful defense wings in their military, but since the end of the Dominion War and the treaties they have signed about their military powers, that is no longer the case,” he added. “At last report, the leaders of that unit were shells of their former leaders, generally young officers that have not been tested in the military, let alone combat.”

The Captain whistled through his teeth. Interesting as it was about the Dragoons, Bane stopped listening carefully when he was told of the vast number of people living in that system. Roughly a billion people. It would take more than a year for that many people to be evacuated on a system-wide scale like that. Those lives are what he cared about right now, now that their prey was for sure not hunting them. “How fast is that thing moving, Lisald?” He made another mental note to ask Gore about his time on a Cardassian planet. Surely there was an engaging story there.

“It is maintaining a speed of warp 7.47, Captain,” Lisald said immediately, like he was ready for the question. Bane liked that too. It seemed the young Lieutenant was in his element when things got serious.

“Good. Helm, match its course and speed. How long until it reaches Keldor III?”

Another few taps of the commands and Lisald had his answer. “9 hours and 10 minutes, give or take a minute or three.”

“Course and speed match, Captain,” the Helm Officer reported.

Plase raised his eyebrows. That did not give them long to come up with a solution on how to either feed this thing continuously, divert it into unpopulated space somehow, or to eliminate it completely, Prophets help them. “Gore, are we close enough to be able to scan the Keldor system?”

The partially cybernetic officer shook his head. “Not even remotely. Not even if we shunted all power on the ship to sensors would we be able to reach that far.”

Bane thought as much, but it never hurt to ask. “How far out are we from Deep Space 9? Could the USS Defiant get here in time if we needed them to?”

It was Lisald who shook his head this time. “No sir. They are three days out at maximum warp.”

Damn, Bane thought. He should have foreseen this and made arrangements. Oh well, their bed was made, and he would see to it that they made it out of here in one piece, and with the Crystalline Entity no longer threatening populated space. “Lets keep trailing it until it is an hour out from the Cardassian border. That is our Point of No Return. At that point, if we have not come up with another solution, we will have to consider taking extreme measures,” he said to the bridge. It was literally the one thing he didn’t want to have to do. “Hail Starfleet Command. We have to let them know the situation.” Without saying as much, Bane hoped Starfleet would be able to warn the Cardassian government what was going on and have them (and help them) begin to mount a system-wide evacuation, and possibly get the Dragoon unit deployed in time to help slow it down, if necessary. He had nothing to do now but wait. Wait for his officers to get to the Bridge. Wait for Starfleet Command to answer their hail. Wait for the Crystalline Entity to notice them, to change course, or to reach the Point of No Return. 

Bane hated waiting.

OFF

Bane Plase, Captain, Commanding

Lieutenant Gore, Chief Tactical Officer

Lieutenant junior grade Lisald Vaat, Chief Operations Officer

ON:

With the ship at warp and the power allocation completed for the Cygnus, Lisald had a bit of time to kill before the next stage in their mission came to pass. It had been close to 8 hours since he last ate, so he figured he could use this time to grab a quite bite and freshen up so he could be at the top of his game when they finally encountered the Crystalline Entity. He thought about going back to his quarters to have his meal in quiet and privacy, but decided against it. He felt like he needed some hustle and bustle, especially after the tongue lashing that Lisald had received from Captain Bane. He didn’t want to wallow in self-pity. Lisald wanted to get past it and carry on, so he decided to head to the Forward Lounge. Stepping into the turbolift on the Bridge, he announced, “Forward Lounge.” The doors closed and whisked him away, about as far away as he could get from the Bridge and Captain Bane.

Several moments later, the doors to the Lounge opened up, admitting him to the Forward Lounge. He was met with a cacophony of voices and sounds, exactly what his soul (and mood) needed. He was fortuitous enough to find an empty table for four near the expansive windows, which afforded him a commanding view of the streaks of light passing by the Cygnus. It was a mistaken believe that every streak of light was a star; this wasn’t the case, Lisald knew, from his time being the Chief Science Officer of this ship. The light streaks were the occasional star, of course, but also the stray comet, but mostly space dust that the powerful navigational deflector beam pushed just enough out of the way for the Cygnus to travel safely through the cosmos. 

While he watched the beautiful rainbow-colored streaks of light zip by the windows, he waited for the waiter, an Andorian, to come to him to take his order.

Ravi had found this a very frustrating day, with the failure of the Medi-scanner in Bay 5 and yet, she had made a new friend over getting it fixed so it had come out as a positive in the end.  She had also been in a pretty tense meeting with the CMO and another Doctor about the Crystalline Entity and got into a debate about the Prime Directive which hadn’t gone the way she had expected, although to be fair, she wasn’t even sure if she’d had time to have formed any expectations about how the thought that occurred to her was likely to either come out or be received, it had all happened so fast. 

Exhausted by the remainder of her shift on top of it all, she had handed over and was buzzing too much to settle back into her room with a replicated meal and too much spinning around in her head.  She decided that despite the protests of her body, she had to do something to slow her mind down a bit or she would never get a wink of sleep for tossing and turning.  Even if she got to sleep, she was unlikely escape the kinds of bad dreams that a day that was as much of a roller coaster as today would offer her.

Deciding to go and find something to distract her, she took herself to the Forward Lounge and was surprised to find it was busy and electric with people, background ‘musac’ and chatter.  It was such a great atmosphere, even without having a clue what everyone was talking about, that the smiles and intermittent laughter, felt like an oasis after a thirsty day in a desert.  It was impossible not to get immediately drawn into smiling and becoming absorbed instantly.  

Ravi couldn’t see anyone she knew but as she walked towards the bar, strangers said hi, some stopped talking and engaged her to exchange names and others just smiled or gestured with a nod, a slight wave or even a full on wide grin.   She was so surprised and secretly delighted that it wasn’t long before she was not only responding to say Hi back but even to start it for herself as she passed new groups or tables.   It was infectious and it really defused her stress levels like medicine.  Before very long, she reached the bar and ordered an Andorian Sunrise.  The barkeep was run off his feet and waiters were going back and forth, docking with orders like a space port processing ships.

Parked awkwardly against the bar, not being able to spot an unoccupied stool, Ravi moved around with her drink until she was almost right up the end.  Still crowded against the mele, Ravi moved out into the room and again was inundated with introductions and kindness, to such an unaccustomed degree that she had now become a bit overwhelmed.  One particular Denobulan man seemed to keep popping up and greeting her more often than just by chance and having squeezed her against the bar, by accident….. although she was beginning to wonder….. now he was back and had begun asking her rather intense questions like was she interested in Polygamy and had she ever looked into how much fun that might be. 

Becoming very anxious to get so far away from him that he might have to stop ambushing her at every few yards, Ravi did something uncharacteristic and surveyed the tables, her eyes falling on one particular one right down near the viewing windows, that was apparently a four seater but with only one man sitting at it. It looked as if a waiter was approaching the lone Bajoran and Ravi, slipped in past the waiter before he could take an order.  She slid over the chair next to the stranger and said to the Andorian Waiter,  “another of these for my friend please, on my tab at the bar.”  She held out her hand to imprint her thumb and index finger onto the PaDD the waiter was carrying.  “We can order food when you get back, if that’s okay?” she said, smiling at the shocked person she had just crashed in on until the waiter agreed and moved off in search of the new drink.

As he just got out of earshot, which in this noisy atmosphere was only about a metre, Ravi put her hand onto the forearm of the stranger and apologised profusely.    “I’m trying to escape a stalker, please bear with me.  I’m SO sorry to barge in on you?  Are you waiting for someone? I’ll go immediately if I’m going to upset your plans or your date or anything? I wouldn’t do anything like this normally, I really AM so sorry………”  she looked up at him helplessly and was suddenly aware that he was a nice-looker which made her blush with even deeper embarrassment. 

“I don’t know what I was thinking…. please enjoy the drink….. I am so embarrassed……I’ll go….. I…..” she spluttered, blushing herself now and cursing what impression she had just given him and wanting the floor to open up and swallow her. 

Shock turned to surprise, which then turned into humor, and finally to a need to protect. “Please, Lieutenant, stay. Smile, pretend we know each other,” he said, leaning in and hugging her as a friend would hug another after a long period of not seeing each other. Pulling her in, he said loud enough to hear over the din, “Oh my Prophets! Its GREAT to see you again! Where have you been hiding?!”

“Hiding?  I’m all over the place and I can never find YOU!”  Ravi responded, returning the hug, which incidentally was very nice.  She grinned widely at him, muttering through softly trying not to move her mouth so as to let it be seen she was talking.  “Thank you”.   She wasn’t sure how good an impression of a ventriloquist she’d managed to pull off but she made no attempt to even look around for the Denobulan, pointedly showing disinterest in him and making a good show of how into this stranger/old friend she kept grinning daftly at.   (not that it was a view that made it difficult at all)

“SO, HOW ARE YOU KEEPING, MY FRIEND!” she raised her own voice to be heard above the general room cacophony and then lowered it again, not making any effort to remove her hand from his forearm.  “This really is too kind of you.  I had no right to ask it of you.” she said.  “I don’t know how to thank you.  My name is Ravi” she added, realising there was a need for some kind of introduction now she’d hi-jacked him.  “Raviran Winters” she elaborated.  “I’m the new ACMO…” 

Lisald responded in kind. “IF I WERE ANY BETTER,” he said at the top of his lungs, “I’D BE TRIPLETS!” He then lowered his voice to a level in which he could be heard by her only. “Pleasure to meet you, Ravi.” He made a mental note to look up the acronym “ACMO” later on. “I’m Vaat. Lisald Vaat, Chief of Operations.”

It wasn’t long before the waiter returned with another Andorian Sunrise which he put down in front of them both and asked if they were ready to order food yet?  Ravi realised she had said they would order food after he brought the drinks and blushed. “I’m sorry, we’ve been so busy catching up, I haven’t looked at the menu yet, could you give us  bit more time please?”  

The waiter was very pleasant about having to come back again and went off to serve someone else.  When he was gone, Ravi began apologising again.

“I’m really sorry.  I shouldn’t have said we’d order food, if you don’t want to eat, I can go…… and by the way, if you don’t like Andorian Sunrises, I’ll order you something you do like.  It’s the least I can do.  In fact, if you do fancy eating, I’d be grateful for the chance to get some food that you like and not just fob you off with whatever I like this time?”  she smiled up at him, still blushing softly.  This really was such a cheek and he was being 100% gentleman about it all.

Vaat smiled and leaned in to her, showing they were having an intimate conversation to anyone who may be watching. “It’s honestly ok. I came here to have dinner, just hadn’t gotten around to it. I got lost in the sea of conversation around me, and the streaks of light ahead of us,” he said, gesturing to the expansive transparent aluminum windows that dominated the room. “I’ve never had an Andorian Sunrise, so this will be a new experience for me,” Lisald spoke, smiling softly. “And you can order for me to, if you want.” Unbeknownst to him, he blushed briefly. 

Ravi smiled, subconsciously noticing the colour rising in his cheeks and letting it warm her towards him more than she already had.  “Oh the Sunrise is a joy!  Not only to taste but to watch!” she enthused.   As if on cue the Waiter returned with a tray containing two straight clear glasses with a mixture about a half an inch deep inside the bottom.  He had a glass jug, fine and ornate which he added very slowly to each of the clear drinks  now on the table in front of them.

The second liquid sank, slowly and with a deep swirl as it mixed softly with the contents of the glass.  At first the incoming liquid turned a dark shade of inky but almost at once it became streaked with a soft pink which spread and each swirl left a trail of soft yellow as the waiter turned it gently.  In an instant the grey was gone and the drinks began to create orange tinges as the pink faded in its turn.  The yellow deepened and turned into a faint orange with trails darkening up to amber and from there through to a deep blood red.  Then it all merged, swirling around the glass as it appeared to dance from one colour to another, imitating a beautiful sunrise effect finishing with a lovely amber-gold mix.  At this point, the waiter stopped moving the glasses and nonchalantly asked if they wanted to order some food?

As the drink turned from color to color, he was completely amazed and thrilled at the show. He was almost hesitant to drink such a beautiful creation, but on the other hand, could not wait to taste it after the testimony of his new friend and the thrill of watching it change to such beautiful and vibrant colors.

The exciting creation of the drink made Ravi beam from ear to ear.  “Beautifully done, if I may say so?” she told the waiter, initially seeming to ignore the query about food but so pleased with the drinks, she was distracted for a few moments. 

The waiter seemed to be pleased with the praise and tilted his head to one side in acknowledgement of it.  He smiled broadly.  “We don’t get asked for those too often, but I love creating them when we do.”  he diverted modestly.

“Well you do it with expertise for a drink you don’t get asked for often”  Ravi replied.  The waiter  grinned.  “They’re the kind of drink it’s a pleasure to make, try out and be proud of when they go well.  Also, what’s the point of not knowing how to do them properly, imagine how disappointed the customers would be if they stayed grey!”  he laughed at the thought and Ravi did too.

“Well I know how upset I’d have been having just been keeping on about how lovely they look.  Grey would have made me look very silly!” she said.

“Me too!” joked the Waiter.

Still chuckling Ravi looked at Vaat.  “Now we have to see if they taste as good as they look!” she winked at him and turning back to the waiter she added, “erm….. Hasperaat Soufflé if you have that on the menu?” she said, switching to the food query as if it hadn’t been a couple of minutes since the waiter had raised it.  Looking back at Vaat she hesitated.  “is that okay?”  she asked her Bajoran companion. 

Vaat was very pleased. “That sounds perfect,” he exclaimed to his new friend. He looked to the waiter. “Could we do it extra spicy?”

The waiter grinned  “Of course, Sir”  and marking the PaDD in his hand he retreated to the kitchen with the order.

Ravi took the first sip of her ‘Sunrise’ and sighed with pleasure as the taste caused rainbows of taste on her tongue, almost as bright and impressive as the colours had been earlier.   

She nodded at Vaat.   “It’s better than I remember it.  The beauty is that it’s always like that!”  she held up her glass towards him.  “To my knight in – well, not shiny armour exactly, but close enough!  Thank you for rescuing the crazy lady.  It must have been quite a shock to have been descended on like that.  You’re a kind person.  or is that brave? perhaps both?”  

Raising his glass in salute to his new friend, Vaat took a sip of his and found the drink to be superb. It somehow made his tongue and mouth feel warm and cool at the same time, and made it feel like it was as close to Paradise, what he imagined the Celestial Temple to be like, as he would ever come. “Wow,” he exclaimed. “This is amazing!” He noticed she was smiling at him, and it dawned on him that she had spoken more as he took a sip of his drink. Replaying it in his mind, he answered her. Laughing through the words he spoke, he said, “I’m certainly no knight in shining armor, although I am curious why you picked that particular phrase. You are, by the looks of it, part Cardassian and part Bajoran, and lovely to no end,” he added, not wanting her to think he was being judgmental. “You chose me to help you out, and thankfully I was able. I imagine given the roles were reversed, you would do the same for me, or for anyone aboard our amazing ship.” He took another sip, the feeling replicating itself again, which pleased him greatly. “What happened that he thought he could harass you in such a fashion?”

“I think he was just very friendly, a little drunk and he thought I must be looking for a soul-mate…. or any other kind of mate perhaps?” Ravi guessed.  “He wasn’t being aggressive or anything, he was just persistent and I didn’t want to make a scene or be unpleasant to get rid of him.”  she added, blushing.  “I sound arrogant and mean now, don’t I.”   

Vaat shook his head. “Not at all. You weren’t picking up what he was laying down. You weren’t interested. Plus, it has the added advantage of someone like you talking to someone like me!” As soon as that fell out of his mouth, he knew how cringy it sounded and mentally chastised himself for it. Outwards, however, he maintained his best smile.

Ravi looked surprised and the open eyed second take evaded even her acquired ‘doctor’s impenetrable expression’ that she was usually pretty well rehearsed at professionally.  It clearly wasn’t engaged right now.  

“S…. some…. someone like me?” she stammered a little as she fought a sudden onset of unexpected tears.  She concentrated hard and managed not to let any moisture fall from here eyes but she knew there was some there so she blinked furiously to clear it, embarrassed and hurt.

“Oh, yes” she forced out very softly, perhaps in the noise around them, too softly, she wasn’t sure but it didn’t matter.  She was struggling to get any words out at all as the sky seemed to fall in on her.   What an idiot she was.  She had been so self absorbed in her own little petty drama, it hadn’t occurred to her that he was Bajoran and she was, to all intents and purposes, physically very Cardassian.  

“I am SO sorry.  I should have been less self-absorbed. I have embarrassed you. I’m not all Cardassian, I just look it.  I’m actually half Bajoran but I should have thought more about approaching you and leaving you with such a difficult situation to say ‘no thanks’ to.  I apologize for my thoughtlessness.”  she said, a little more strongly now.  She had missed the beginning of what he had said about their racial differences and only heard the end question about the Denobulan. 

“I’m so dreadful at social situations and I stick out like a sore thumb here on this ship.” she dropped into a moment of what she could look back on later as a cross between an age old battle between the two sides of her own self and hurt from what she had just taken to be an unexpected rejection, assuming that she’d read Vaat wrong and been foolish enough to think he could look past her Cardassian features. 

~But how could he?~  she thought, silently berating herself, ~….he’s looking right at your face, how can he fail to be reminded constantly?~

She gathered herself began making her apologies again.  It seemed that was all she was doing tonight.  She should not have come….. ~perhaps she should have just accepted the Denobulan’s advances and this would never have happened. 

“I should just slip away with profuse apologies and hope you’ll forgive my intrusion.  Thank you for being so kind.  I do understand, of course I do.  It happens all the time.  There’s so much history between our – your and my father’s races – both my races, it’s not reasonable of me to be such a mix up and expect all the universe to understand…….. ” she trailed off.  Aware now that she’d drifted into trying to explain something that wasn’t socially, morally or readily acceptable and never had been.  She began to feel more emotion again, old, deep, familiar, unwelcome feeling and decided that the best way to deal with this faux pas, was a hasty retreat. 

She put down her cutlery, swigged the Andorian Sunrise with much less respect than it deserved, gasped as it hit her back in self-defence and began to rummage for a napkin to cough into before she could rise and try to make a dignified exit….. not very likely now but an exit of some sort at least. 

The smile immediately vanished from the Chief Operations face as the Doctor stammered over herself, made those comments, and could see her eyes get very moist, like she was about to cry. “No, you misunderstand,” he said, putting his hand on her leg, a motion to keep her sitting with him. “I am not talking about your heritage and birthright, nor of mine, Raviran.” He used her name to remind both of them that they were being informal and friendly. “I don’t give a shit one way or another your race. When I look at you, I see a beautiful, lovely and out of my league woman. I don’t see Cardassian, or Bajoran. When I look at him,” he said, pointing to a decidedly blue individual with antennae, “I do not see an Andorian. I see a man, full of life, full of dreams and desires. When I look at people,” he continued, focusing back on Ravi, “I see a person first.” He inhaled, ready for the next words to come out of his mouth, as he was about to lay out his most vulnerable part. “What I meant by that was how someone like you, someone achingly pretty, with an amazing personality, with gorgeous eyes, an infectious sense of humor, an incredible body and someone that cares so deeply that she went into medicine to try and heal the sick and hurt, decided to talk to someone like me that is, well, not so pretty, has the personality of a hunk of packing foam and who uses his talents for his own personal curiosity rather than being altruistic. Raviran, I am so very sorry for the miscommunication. Please, stay and continue this meal with me. Allow me the opportunity to repair the hurt I just inadvertently caused you.”

“I……. ” she looked him in the eyes and blushed with mortification.   “If you’ll have me, I’d be honoured to stay and –   what you just said — about people and how they aren’t what you see on the outside…. that is so deep and meaningful that I realise it was wrong and foolish of me to jump to the conclusion about what you meant ….. before……  I’m humbled by your goodness and patience – many would have let me go and thought it best if that was the chip I must have on my shoulder to jump to that conclusion first before you’d had the chance to let me see the real you.” 

She sat, warmed by his taking so much care and trouble.  

“I would like to start this whole conversation all over again.” she said, shaking her head slowly.  “I am so happy you haven’t given up on me yet and the bit of the conversation that I’d like to keep are those wonderfully kind words you said about me.  Just for the record, I’m not out of your league at all:  you’re out of mine but if you can live with that, I’m more than delighted.  I went into medicine for all the right reasons, that’s true but to describe yourself as having the personality of a hunk of packing foam is insulting to you, and therefore to me in your defence.” she smiled.

“Altruism is one good principle to have but lack of prejudice and an openness of mind and heart are every bit as valuable in their own ways, in my opinion and while I’m on a roll, your own eyes are pretty special too.”  she managed a shy smile and another blush of embarrassment as she tried to offer something in return for his sweet compliments.  

“I’m sorry I was so oversensitive” she concluded quietly, picking up her previously discarded cutlery, looking down at her food and feeling humble for having blown this all up out of proportion.   “Thank you for your patience”.  She wasn’t sure she had said that loud enough in all this noise so she looked up at his face to see if he had heard her.

Lisald smiled, sitting back, his hand leaving her leg. “Hey, that is why we are all out here wearing this uniform, right? To be patient, to learn about each other and our differences, but more importantly, our similarities.  And that,” he said, tapping his index finger to the table for emphasis, “is what exploration is all about. It is why I got into archaeology and anthropomorphology.” He captured the attention of the waiter as the last word escaped his mouth. “May we get another one of these delcious Andorian Sunrises each, please?”

The Bolian smiled, delighted. “My pleasure, sir. I am thrilled you both like them so much,” eyeing the glasses, one half full, the other empty. Almost in a cloud of dust, he was off to fetch the updated order.

“These really are good,” Lisald said, picking up his glass and downing it, much like Ravi had done only a moment ago. It felt delightfully warm going down. He smiled again at his new friend, delighted beyond reason she had stayed in his company.

“You’re so right”  Ravi enthused, grateful and even a little excited to have made such a handsome, charming and very wise companion as a new friend.  Part of her hoped he would become her friend and she resolved silently that she would make it very easy and hopefully fun for him to want to continue to see how this might work out.

The next Sunrise was just close to enough for Ravi’s constitution, seeing as she rarely drank real alcohol. 

“I’m usually a synthahol person” she mentioned.  “But as I’m off duty and as this is an occasion to celebrate new friendships….. perhaps we might just have one more for the road home to our quarters?” she proposed, a little cheekily as she didn’t know if he was due on duty soon.  Suddenly aware of that blunder she hurriedly added:  “But of course if you’re due on duty soon or if you’d just like to stop with these and maybe have dessert instead?” she looked at him directly, anxious to check if she’d stepped on a social landmine yet again.

Lisald was happy to have another drink with his new friend. “You are in luck, Doctor. I am not scheduled to be on duty for another 16 hours, so I am set,” he said, taking his glass and clinking it against hers, something he learned while on Earth. He wasn’t exactly sure the custom of it, or what it represented, but he knew it was done between colleagues and friends on special occasions, and he felt this was special enough, what with celebrating their new friendship as she had mentioned. What say we have more than just one more?” Without waiting for her to ask, he got the Andorians attention and mimed to him to bring four more, two for each of them.

Ravi smiled a little shyly at first but it soon grew into a big mischievous grin.   “You know, I think you might be my kind of new playmate!” she began, conveniently interrupted by the waiter with a tray of Sunrises all turning every sunrise colour at the same time, so she didn’t have to elaborate on that but the new feeling of comfortable that spread over her was as pleasant as the spreading warmth of the drinks.  

OFF

A blossoming new friendship, posted by:

Dr. Raviran Dattek-Winters, Assistant Chief Medical Officer

and

Lieutenant (jg) Lisald Vaat, Chief Operations Officer

Lisald looked around, surprised at how many people were on the bridge. Even during red alert, there were not this many people aboard, and certainly not standing in the open area behind the command seats, behind Tactical and in front of Science Station 1, his old station. They were all standing roughly in an elongated circle, oval-like, he amended, to conform to the space available. He took note of everyone that was here. To his immediate left stood Ravi Winters, his new friend he had met last night at the bar. To her left stood Lieutenant Anderson, the Chief Engineer who had been gracious enough with her time to teach Lisald some advanced Engineering principles to help him better with his position on the ship. To her left stood Lieutenant James Carson, the Assistant Chief Tactical Officer. Beside him was Lieutenant Gore, the Chief Tactical Officer, formidable and deadly looking, but Lisald knew him to be quite soft and gentle. Still, he didn’t ever want to get in an arm-wrestling match with the guy. To Gore’s left stood Dr. Elodin, which was directly across from Lisald. Dr. Kin’Fuji stood next to Doctor Elodin, her tails swishing back and forth behind her. To her left stood Ensign Andy Robinson, Vaat’s Assistant Chief of Operations. To her left was Ensign Spangler, arguably Vaat’s best friend on the ship, and somehow also his nemesis. Spangler now held the job that Vaat should have never left. He was good at his job, no doubt, but the sciences is were Lisald’s true passion lay. To his left, the Counselor of the ship, someone Vaat had yet to really talk to yet, in any manner, was Ensign Ally Scott. To her left, and to Vaat’s right, rounding out the mass of people crammed on the bridge and not manning stations was the Executive Officer himself, Lieutenant Commander Erik Larsen. The only senior officer not in the circle was Captain Bane. He was watching over the ship at his seat just in front and below them. Every single one of them standing here had an identical PaDD with identical information on it, ready to be reviewed and discussed.

Vaat snuck a peek at the viewscreen and chills when up his spine, causing goosebumps to jump to life on his skin. The Crystalline Entity was ahead of them by a fair distance, apparently either out of its sight range, or out of its line-of-sight. Either way, Lisald was glad for that. Without having a full on consensus of what to do with the Entity, if it turned on them suddenly, it would force their hand. As a scientist, Lisald wanted to study it in detail in its natural environment. As a Starfleet Officer, he had a duty to protect all life, no matter the form or size. As Chief of Operations, he had to be ready to supply the power to nurture the creature, or destroy it if it posed a serious threat to the Cygnus. 

The audience was becoming a bit of a distraction; Spangler didn’t need any more reason to feel uncomfortable on the bridge without feeling somehow cramped in the spacious room. Despite this, he was more than occupied keeping every possible scanner array going continuously, and filtering through the flood of information. The amount of data they were receiving about the entity was near overwhelming. The scientist inside him was giddy over the thought of spending the forseeable future going over everything they had; while the the rest of him tempered the excitement with the thought of becoming crystal-poop. 

Elodin glanced at the data PaDD in his hands before clearing his throat and speaking up. “We’ve been unable to come up with a way to prevent biological matter from being consumed by the Entity,” he said. “The process occurs at a submolecular level, very much like that of a transporter beam. There’s no medication that we can administer that would prevent it.”

He looked at Lisald. “The first line of defense should be to turn the thing away from inhabited planets. Based on data we’ve seen from the Enterprise, it seems the Entity is averse to compressed graviton emissions. What about a network of satellites in orbit that would send out those emissions if the creature gets too close to an inhabited planet?”

Lisald looked first to the Executive Officer standing next to him, then to Spangler before answering. “I think that could probably be done. We would have to have Commander Larsen or Captain Bane reach out to Starfleet, then to the Cardassian Union to get permission to cross into their space and deploy the satellite network around their planet. That is,” he said, looking again to Spangler, “If Spangler and Lieutenant Anderson can construct that many satellites in time to get them all deployed before the Entity reached its destination. However, doing a bit of quick math in my head, it would take roughly a week to get all of that set up and deployed. At present speed, the Entity will reach that planet long before that.

Kin’Fuji remained in the back of the pack.  She saw the creature on the screen as they where following it.  She was unable to study any of the files upon this creature, because they where spotty at best.  This creature was also beyond her understanding and specialties.

Lisald saw the young medical officer looking to the screen and back to the PaDD in her…paw? hand? “Do you have a question or maybe an idea, Doctor? We’d love to hear it,” he said, reassuringly. After several moments of pregnant silence, Lisald continued, knowing full-well how embarrassing it could be to have the spotlight trained directly on you, and wanted to relieve the Doctor of that terrible feeling. “Ok, what about diverting it,” he asked of anyone standing around. He briefly wondered what Scientific, Engineering or Medical methods that could be used to guide, or force it, into another direction out into open space. Lisald again longed for his days in the Science Department, where he could concentrate on the science instead of the coordinating of all the departments. “Doctor Elodin has a point,” he said, actually pointing at the Chief Medical Officer, “About the compressed graviton emissions. Could we get that together in time before it crosses into populated space?”

For several minutes, the group stood around, wondering to themselves in silence. Everyone was out of ideas. In the 30 plus years that the Federation was aware of the Crystalline Entity, little had been able to be done with the study of the creature. When the Enterprise destroyed it all those decades ago, pieces of the creature were picked up and analyzed. It was discovered, much to the dismay of literally everyone involved that without it being studied alive, little could be gained, as the ‘dead’ pieces were nothing more than hunks of crystal that anyone could find on almost all bodies in space larger than a class III comet, including most planets. Without further research, being able to come up with the precise amplitude to move this particular beast would take a great deal more time than they had, it seemed.

Captain Bane chose this moment to approach the group. “Any headway,” he asked the group, his eyes scanning the officers assembled.

After a moment of silence more, Lisald spoke up. “No sir. We have been trying, but we are making little headway. We do not believe we can raise the proper defenses at the Cardassian system. The technical and manufacturing demands are too great for the amount of time we have. Doctor Elodin brought up a great point about using a compressed graviton emission, but without greater study, we aren’t sure what amplitude to use to be able to deflect it out into open space. We could guess, but it could push it into Federation space, or a more densely populated area of space, or could hurt it. We just don’t know.”

The Captain nodded. “I see. What about communicating with it? I seem to recall the Enterprise having some small measure of luck with that.”

The officers assembled looked around at each other. Lisald spoke again after a silent agreement between them all. “I think we could work on that,” he said, again looking to both Spangler and Anderson. “We might be able to get something together using the information from the Enterprise before it crosses into Cardassian space.

Bane nodded. “Alright. You guys have your marching orders. We do not have much time left, so lets get to it.”

OFF

A mass JP by, well, everyone.

Watching his officers go to their respective stations, minus Lisald and Anderson, who followed Spangler to Science Station 1, Bane himself stepped around the horseshoe and made his way to the Captain’s chair, but did not sit. He waited until Larsen made his way around, then spoke quietly to him. “Commander, you have the Bridge. I need to update Starfleet Command and let Deep Space 9 know we aren’t having much luck out here.”

Larsen simply nodded, then sat down in the Captain’s chair. Bane noted that the officer had little to say lately; he would need to make sure to get with him privately to make sure he is well, mentally. He sure hoped he was; Bane had plans for that man and his career.

Slipping into his office, the Ready Room, as it was officially called, Bane slipped behind his desk. “Computer, open a channel to Starfleet Command, secure channel Phi Theta Kappa One.”

“Confirmed, secure channel open,” the computer responded after a moment. A split second later, Admiral Braxx appeared on the screen.

“Hello, Admiral,” Bane began, as was customary, being the junior officer of the two.

“Captain, good to see you and the Cygnus are still in one piece,” he teased. “I understand you have been chasing down what you believe to be a Crystalline Entity?”

Bane nodded. “Yes sir, we have. Indeed, we are just aft of it now. It is headed for Cardassian space, one of their populated systems. I’m forwarding you the telemetry now,” he said, tapping the commands to send the information they had so far.

While the information was being transmitted, the Admiral furrowed his brow. “You are aft of it? I wonder why it isn’t scanning you or otherwise attempting to engage you.”

Plase nodded, understanding the confusion of the Admiral. “Best we can figure is, like I mentioned, we are behind it, and in it’s blind spot. Our shields are up, but beyond that, we have not been able to come up with a way to mask our energy or bio signatures. Or,” he surmised, “There is a juicier target up ahead. Sir, we are less than an hour away from Cardassian Space. Do we have permission to follow this thing in should we fail to stop it before then?” Bane was getting down to business. There was little time to waste.

The 3-pip Admiral shook his head. “No Captain, you do not. While our relationship with the Cardassian Union is certainly improving, we cannot risk an incursion, even under the banner of assistance to life and property.”

Bane sat back. “Admiral, with all due respect to you, that is ridiculous.  More than a hundred million lives and several thousand ships are on the line here.”

“I know Plase,” Admiral Braxx stated, holding his hand up much in the way that reminded Bane of how Admiral Janeway did it, not that he had ever talked to her or anything, but he had seen the recordings. “This comes from the Federation Council direct. I fought against it and went to bat for you and the Cygus, but my protestations fell upon deaf ears.

Plase shook his head. “Has anyone reached out to the Cardassians to see what they think, or what they have to say?” He doubted those desk jockeys in Paradise had the foresight to do that.

“Indeed someone has. The President did so just this morning, a few hours after you presented your initial findings and our teams here on Earth had time to analyze them. Your crew has done a remarkable job in such a short time, as we could not come up with any further hypothesis. The Cardassian Union has thanked the Federation, Starfleet and especially the crew of the Cygnus for their efforts and contributions, but feel that if you cannot stop it before it arrives at their border, they will be able to handle the incursion.”

It was Bane’s turn to furrow his brow. He took a quick look at the long range scans that Ensign Spangler, Lieutenant Anderson and Lieutenant Lisald were keeping active beyond the creature just ahead of them. From what he could see, there were no defenses being mounted, though admittedly at this distance, he could only see just inside the border of Cardassian space, and not all the way to their star system. “I don’t see any defense being mounted from our current position, Admiral,” Bane offered.

“I know. Still, you are not to enter Cardassian space. Do all you can to stop it, divert it or otherwise incapacitate it”

Plase felt almost like he’d been slapped. “You mean, destroy it, if necessary?”

“I trust your judgment, Captain Bane. Braxx out,” he said cryptically. 

Bane knew that Braxx had just pulled a swift one. He had just ordered the Cygnus to do everything they could, but stopped short of saying destroy the poor creature. If they did destroy it and later found a way the could have stopped it, they would be on the hook for the loss of the creatures life. If they didn’t and let it go, they would be on the hook for the lives, ships and planets lost ahead. 

Starfleet Command had just put the crew of the Cygnus in an impossible position. The crew of the Cygnus needed to find a solution, and soon.

OFF

Captain Bane, Commanding

“Captain, I think I have an idea,” came the meek voice of Alan Roberts, at Conn.

Bane looked over to him, genuinely surprised he even spoke, let alone had an idea. “Ok Ensign, the floor is yours. What do you have?”

Alan blushed red, almost to the same hue as his uniform, then spoke. Next to him, at the Operations position (since Lisald was at the rear of the Bridge doing whatever it was he was doing) Ensign Veenak side-eyed him, also surprised he had spoken up. “Sir, I think if we use the deflector dish to, ah, um, emit a high-energy burst of radiocarbons, flooding the space in front of it, we could slow it down or even stop it.”

Bane furrowed his brow. His Engineering background gave him a great deal of expertise in ship systems. He was never a Chief Engineer, or even Assistant Chief Engineer, but he had been in enough engagements when he was a structural and environmental engineer to know how the systems worked, and what they could be modified to do. Just as he was about to speak up, a gravelly voice from directly behind him (and next to the circle of officers still trying to figure out what to do) spoke up.

“That will not work, Alan. The deflector dish is not able to be adjusted to emit physical objects,” said Ensign Jin’Tok at Tactical. He was manning it while Lieutenant Gore was busy in the same circle that Lisald was in.

Bane nodded, about to say the same thing. “He is right, Mr. Roberts. Good effort though. I will remember that during your next evaluation with Commander Larsen,” he said, hopefully cheerfully enough to keep the initiative going in the young officer.

The deep and coarse voice of Jin’Tok speaking had gotten attention of the officers in the circle. Lisald spoke. “However sir,” he began, “That is not without merit. I believe we could use the spirit of that idea.”

Bane turned in his seat to better see the young Bajoran Scientist-turned-Operations Officer. “Go on, Lieutenant.”

Lisald continued. “Well, we could use the warp nacelles to expel the matter,” he began, looking to Liuetenant Anderson, who nodded slightly to him in agreement, and also to encourage his efforts. “Of course, we would have to get in front of it, exposing us to the creature. It is not without risk.”

“Sir,” said Veenak, the Romulan officer at the Operations station, “Forgive my interruption, but wouldn’t that flood the nacelles with radiocarbons, thereby making the nacelles completely unusable until purged?”

Vaat looked to his dear friend. He was extremely relieved that she had followed protocol on the Bridge in front of their superiors, and proud that she had challenged the idea. “As I said,” he continued, pointing to her in way of acknowledgement, “It is not without risk. In addition to it blowing out our nacelles, negating the opportunity for warp speed, it would also put the ship directly in the flight path of the Entity.”

“Sir, I think we could even load up on it. With the inertia of the Cygnus, I could pilot us away from Cardassian space and back out into open space for maybe a tenth or so light years before our relative speed dropped below 300,000 kph. With any luck, it would focus on another food source somewhere else, or give us time to come up with another plan,” Alan stated.

The Captain frowned, thinking. The idea was not without merit. It was, as his officers pointed out, full of risk. He had to weigh if the risk was worth it.

“I believe he is right, Captain,” Lisald said. “Of course, the more radiocarbon we fill into the nacelles, the longer we will be dead in the water, so to speak,” he said, using a nautical reference on many worlds. It would take a considerable amount of time to purge the nacelles, which would either set us up for direct confrontation with the Entity, or leave us here while it continues either to Cardassian space, or to whereever it can find its next meal.”

Plase thought for a moment. “Do we have anything on long range sensor out in unpopulated, open space that could feed this thing for a while until we can figure out another method?” He was met with silence. “Ok, I guess we will cross that particular bridge when we come to it.” Bane had come to a decision. The lives of all those millions of Cardassians, the colonies and the planet were worth more than the lives of those on the Cygnus. A wise philosopher once said “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, of the one.” “Helm, increase speed and get us around it. Mr. Jin’Tok, Red Alert please. All hands, prepare for battle.”

OFF

Bane Plase

Lisald Vaat

Jin’Tok

Alan Roberts

Veenak

Ravi was frustrated. She was trying to make a good first impression on her new colleagues and hopefully future friends but here she was struggling to get the most basic functions out of the Console she was working on.

She felt that it was a very sorry situation to have to say to everyone that there was something wrong with the equipment.  How would that look to them all?  And what if……. Spirits forbid….. if it actually was fine and the fault was with herself?

She tried until it was taking too long for it not to be noticed that she was struggling with it and soon the game was up.  A very kindly Senior Nurse approached her to ask if anything was wrong? and Ravi looked up and became aware of all the eyes that were on her.  It was harsh.

Accepting the kindness at its face value, desperate not to presume she was being judged, Ravi said, as calmly as she could muster.

“Well, yes, I think so………. ” she smiled at the would be rescuer.  “I’m not getting the reactions that I’m used to from this Console.  I hope it’s not that I’m doing it all wrong….”

Ravi knew she wasn’t doing anything wrong, she’d been around the block so to speak, plenty of times and had operated similar scanners and data collection displays in many types of systems:  Cardassian, Bajoran and of course, Federation – to name the most important and relevant. However she stood aside for the Nurse to take her own look at the Console of the Med-Bed’s internal scanner for herself.

It was much to Ravi’s relief that the woman, whose name was apparently Rose McQueen, had just the same problems with the wretched piece of broken technology.   At least all the observing eyes, whether they were directed at her or looking away but listening to hear what was going on, seemed to then go back to a much busier pace of what they were doing.

Rose put in a call for an Engineer and ask that whoever was sent should report to ACMO Winters.  Ravi was grateful for that and for the new found friend’s support.  Buoyed by this turn of events and a new friend made already, Ravi felt her nerves dissipate and her characteristic (but odd for someone with her predominantly Cardassian features) smile had returned by the time the Engineer arrived. 

It wasn’t long for an engineer to arrive in Sickbay, and as Erica entered, carrying a repair kit, her uniform covered in a number of grease marks, she looked around, finding who she was looking for. Before heading to Sickbay, she had looked up the record of the woman, and made her way over to her. “Ravi Winters? I’m Chief Engineer Erica Anderson. You said you were having a problem with a console?” Erica asked, already prepared to get to work and fix the problem.

It wasn’t the first problem of the day either. There seemed to be a feedback loop in the EPS grid causing a number of issues, and Erica would chase it down, no matter what.

“Hello Erica, thank you for coming in so quickly.  I wanted to start well as this is my first shift here but this cantankerous machine is determined not to play nice.”  Ravi said lightly, taking the CEO straight to MedBay 4 where she had been having the trouble.  “I won’t try to tell you your job so I won’t try to guess what or why it’s not on its best behaviour”

Ravi opened her left arm to indicate the console at the rear of the bay and stood back to allow Erica full access.   “I was trying to get some basic scan facilities started up…….”  she added the initial clue to get the Engineer started.   

Erica walked with her, listening to what Ravi had explained. “We have been having some issues with a feedback loop in the EPS grid, which has been causing a few issues in basic systems, and I’m trying to track it down. Thankfully, all I need to do, if it is the cause of the problem, is to depolarise the main system bio neural relay and the isolinear chips,” Erica explained, as she knelt down, opening the console, kneeling down. She looked at it, before opening her kit and starting to scan the boards. 

Ravi went gratefully back to her work and left the obviously very competent Engineer to hers.  She had been very impressed though and she made a mental note to try to look up Erica Anderson when she was off duty.  Perhaps she might invite her to meet in 10 Forward sometime.  She would like that a lot.  She resolved to make off-duty contact as soon as she could. 

The Acting Chief Science Officer’s office was situated to the rear of Lab 1. Spangler didn’t particularly care for Lab 1. He considered Lab 2 his home; it’s where the material analysis suite was, and the place where he felt the real Science took place. Mostly because that was where his specialty existed. But as Albert was thrust kicking and screaming into responsibility, or at least shrugging and grumbling, he had to face reality that he could no longer hide behind his chemistry set. 

This represented hour 13 in his office, and he was feeling it more than ever. The encounter with the crystalline bastard was looming ever closer, and he’d spent every moment of the past half day going over every single data point, every record, every bit of calibration record to make sure that at the moment of truth, his department would not leave the Cygnus wanting.

The view screen on his wall was loading the revised mission configuration for short/medium/long range probes, all of which had been adjusted for their practically mythical foe. He stared intently waiting, even as he began mumbling the specifications to himself before they appeared. He’d already unintentionally memorized just about everything, but checking for the possible literally 100th time gave a sense of reassurance he desperately needed. 

The data appeared, and thankfully yet not surprisingly, it was the same as the last time he checked. Spangler sighed, before tapping his comm badge. “Spangler to Captain Plase. Preparations are complete on our end..” He let out a deep breath, “Ready or not, here we come.”

Off:

I’m not dead yet;

Ensign Albert Spangler

Acting Chief Science Officer, USS Cygnus

Trill Homeworld

17 November 2401 (Earth Calendar)

1556 Hours 

=======

The sun was reflecting off the ice as Wilem Bast found a new foothold, and hauled himself up another meter up the face of Jökull B’tang, one of the Northern province’s most daunting glaciers. It was a climb that only the most adventurous climbers would attempt. Fewer than fifty people on all of Trill would ever attempt such a climb, and Wilem Bast was three-quarters of the way up the glacier.

Or so he liked to think. In reality, Jökull B’Tang was a daunting climb, but hardly the insurmountable challenge he was picturing in his mind. Close to a hundred people would climb it in a year, but most of them were less than half his age. Few people in their early sixties would attempt the climb.

It was a beautiful afternoon. The sun was shining, the temperature was only slightly below freezing, and the wind was light – ideal conditions for ice climbing. His arms and legs were taut with the effort required to haul himself up the ice cliff, but the burning sensation in his muscles felt good, and he could feel the rush of endorphins. Now at his age, he found it only slightly more difficult to climb this particular glacier than in his younger days, but he welcomed the challenge. It allowed him to clear his mind, and oftentimes afterward he was able to approach a particular problem from a totally different perspective, which often led to finding a solution.

He placed an ice screw, and slid his rope through the loop. He dug his left foot’s crampons in the ice, and prepared to shift his weight to the new anchor. The ice creaked under his gloves. The noise echoed off the ice cliffs, and startled a great white harfang. The majestic bird let out a scream, and flew out of its nest, hidden inside a concealed crevice in the ice less than two meters from Wilem’s right handhold. Caught by surprise, Wilem’s arms flailed, and he lost his grasp on the rope, and his foothold slipped as his weight shifted, and the ice, softened by the sunlight and the warmer than usual temperatures, chipped around his crampons. 

He fell seven meters before the rope caught on the previous screw. The pendulum motion swung him hard against the ice, and his head hit the ice cliff at an odd angle, shattering his cervical vertebrae. His helmet split open, and fragments of it fell along with chunks of ice the rest of the hundred and fifty meters to the bottom of the glacier, where another group of climbers was preparing to ascend.

Down at the bottom of the mountain, a young man looked up as the ice crashed at his feet. He held his helmet in place as he looked up, wary of being hit by more ice. Squinting through the sun’s glare, he spotted a humanoid shape, swinging uncontrollably at the end of a lifeline like a rag doll. He tapped his companion on the shoulder, and pointed at the injured Wilem. The young man’s companion reached for a communicator, and contacted emergency response teams.

=======

Trill Symbiosis Commission Headquarters 

1808 Hours 

=======

Doctor Renhol walked into her office, carrying a steaming cup of black tea with a slice of lemon. It was something she had barely been able to stomach before being joined, but the symbiont inside her couldn’t get enough of it. The host had acquired the taste, and she had to admit that it did help with digestion. She sat down to continue her work on the long list of files on her desktop, but soon turned around to adjust the tint at her window. At this time of day, the sun was beginning its descent, and was directly hitting her desk, its glare reflecting off the metallic surface of her desk, and interfering with the holodisplay. It was at that moment that her alarm went off, triggered by the nurses at the Symbiosis Commission’s hospital ward. 

She set the cup of tea down, not noticing that half its content spilled over on her desktop, and ran out of her office, jumping in the nearest turbolift to the ward. The alarm could only mean one thing – a symbiont was in trouble.

“Who is it?” she asked, coming out of the lift and hurrying up to the nurses’ station. The nurses were already scrambling, preparing to receive an injured patient.

“It’s the Bast symbiont,” reported the head nurse. The man looked at the computer monitor, and read the notice that had been sent by the emergency medical team. “Some sort of ice climbing accident. Massive cranial trauma. He’s being flown in by shuttle now, too unstable for the transporter. The family’s been notified.”

Renhol nodded. Part of her was relieved by the announcement – she knew the Bast symbiont was on the Trill Homeworld. Arranging emergency transport for an offworld symbiont was typically a logistical nightmare. Nevertheless, this was a sad day. “Good. I’ll get the Initiate ready.”

She accessed the Symbiosis Commission’s database. Based on the Initiate Program’s interviews of potential candidates, the most appropriate hosts for the Bast symbiont had been identified and ranked, based on their personalities, interests, and an order of succession had been generated. Initiates typically matched more than one symbiont, and the Symbiosis Commission’s systems calculated the nearest, best match for the Bast symbiont and displayed an identification. The best and nearest candidate for the Bast symbiont was a Starfleet engineer named Temerant Lochees. 

The name was familiar to Renhol. She’d seen him mentioned on several reports. He had reported in a few weeks prior, as his number was approaching, and was waiting in the Initiates’ compound. But he had a tendency to slip out, every once in a while. And at this time of day, on a Friday, odds were that he’d managed to slip out of the compound again.

“Now where is he?” she asked aloud, to no one in particular. She hurried over to the computer and tapped in her access codes. She logged into the locator program. 

Initiates were required to wear a locator device at all times, so they could be located quickly in the event of an emergency. Renhol sent a priority one message to the Commission’s collection officers, who were then summoned to collect Temerant from wherever he was, whatever he was doing, and bring him to the hospital as quickly as possible.

=======

Starhill Night Club 

Mak’ala City 

Trill Homeworld 

=======

The girl was astoundingly beautiful. Her deep blue eyes had a tinge of purple to them, reminiscent of the open sea. Her lips were voluptuous, sensual, and had a slight upwards twist that made her seem as though she was constantly smiling. And Temerant Lochees had charmed her just about enough that he could hope that those lips might soon be touching his own. It hadn’t been easy – he was a shy guy, but she was so beautiful that he had gathered up his courage and bought her a drink. And a second.

Her strawberry blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, barely covering the spots that descended from her forehead, down the sides of her neck, and tantalizingly disappeared into her cleavage. 

He placed another drink in front of her. A Samarian sunset, which he’d learned was her favorite. He tapped the rim of the glass, and together they watched the swirl of bioluminescent colors, triggered by the glass’s vibrations, running through the liquid, finally coalescing into a golden color. She smiled, and took a sip.

The music was thankfully loud enough that she had to lean forward to talk directly into his ear, which gave him an opportunity to look down her cleavage. At first he’d been very discreet about it, but she, on the contrary, had been very brazen about it, going so far as to put her hand on the back of his neck to make sure he knew where to look, so by this time he’d given up on being discreet. She placed her hand on the back of his neck again and leaned forward, pulling him closer to whisper in his ear. 

A pair of strong hands grabbed Temerant by the shoulders, and pulled him away from the girl, who was almost shoved aside by another pair of equally strong hands. The drinks were knocked off the table, and the music stopped almost instantly, as all eyes in the nightclub turned toward their table.

“Symbiosis Commission,” said one of the burly men by way of apology, holding up a hand to keep the girl at arm’s length. Temerant looked at the two men, startled, and a bit too light-headed from the alcohol he’d imbibed that night to fully understand what was going on. He looked at his companion, and raised his eyebrows.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, as he and the two men were beamed away, leaving him with the memory of the startled girl, looking down at her dress which was now soaking wet from the spilled drink. The look on her face let him know he shouldn’t expect her to call him any time soon.

The filled nightclub around him vanished in a curtain of light, replaced by the stark interior of the Symbiosis Commission’s hospital ward. He remembered being in this building a few years prior, back when he first signed up to the Initiate program, to be subjected to one of the most invasive and thorough physical exams he’d ever lived through. Not much had changed since then.

An older woman approached. “Mister Lochees, I’m Doctor Renhol,” she introduced herself. “I’m sorry we had to drag you away from your current activities, but there is a medical emergency. The Bast symbiont will be in need of a new host, and you are next in the order of succession.” 

The sudden surge of adrenaline finished clearing Temerant’s head. “Oh,” was all he found to say.

Farther down the corridor, he saw a woman in tears. In her late fifties, she was proudly dressed. Two other people, roughly Temerant’s own age, were close to her. Also in tears, they were holding her by the shoulders comfortingly. A nurse from the Symbiosis Commission was standing next to them. The nurse was holding a data padd, and speaking in a hushed voice, her hand on the older woman’s arm. Temerant saw the woman’s knees flinch, and the younger man rushed to grab her by the elbows, and guide her to a chair.

“If you’ll come this way,” said Doctor Renhol. Another nurse took Temerant’s arm and guided him past the doors.

=======

Temerant was now lying naked on a gurney in one of the operating rooms of the Symbiosis Commission building, nothing but a blue drape covering his nether regions. Next to him, they had wheeled in a man with salt and pepper hair. The older man was naked as he was. Strongly built, the man’s face was bloodied, and he was unconscious. Stimulators were connected to the man’s chest, and the mechanical and regular sounds let Temerant know that a machine was breathing for him. Medical equipment was strapped to his gurney, and monitors beeped along with his heartbeat. The sound was irregular, and it was clear that death was close.

Someone attached similar sensors to Temerant’s chest and forehead – sensors for his heart rate, cerebral activity, and other life signs that Temerant couldn’t even begin to guess. He was feeling overwhelmed by the experience and tried to focus on a thousand things at once. 

Someone pressed a hypospray to his neck. “This will speed up your liver’s metabolism, and clear up the alcohol in your system,” they explained. There was a hint of reproach in that voice. Alcohol consumption was usually forbidden for Initiates. He could only guess that the next person in the order of succession for the Bast symbiont was too far away under the circumstances.

Another nurse positioned herself next to his head, and talked to him in a soothing voice. She explained what the surgical team was doing, as they opened up the previous hosts’ ventral pouch, located the symbiont, and gently severed the link. The symbiont was lifted out of Wilem Bast’s body, and placed in a cleaning bath filled with the nourishing milky liquid that filled the Caves of Mak’ala, to be cleaned off. The symbiont was also rinsed with an antibiotic solution, to remove any potential bacteria from its surface before implantation into a new Host, and to remove any contaminants from the previous Host’s body – the last thing they wanted was for Temerant to reject Bast because of Wilem’s possible HLA incompatibilities. The surgical team, meanwhile, cauterized the blood vessels in Wilem’s abdomen. The nurse explained that the previous host would be placed on life support. His head injuries were too severe for him to ever regain consciousness, but at least this way, his family could say goodbye before life support was disengaged. In any case, the previous Host would die within a day of the symbiont’s removal.

The second team finished bathing the symbiont. One of the doctors pulled open Temerant’s ventral pouch. The symbiont was placed at the lip of the pouch, from where it crawled its way inside. Temerant gasped at the unusual sensations as it found its place, lodged between his pancreas and his stomach. 

A whirlwind of sensations and emotions played out in his head, as the symbiont attached its tendrils to his spinal column, and tethered itself to his central nervous system. He knew that within the next ninety hours or so, the link would be permanent – the symbiont would be dependent on Temerant’s blood flow to survive, and if the symbiont was removed, the blood loss would cause the host body to die within a day.

The nurse described how the host and the symbiont’s brain waves were now merging, but Temerant wasn’t listening. The sensations were overwhelming. Memories flooded his mind, sometimes coming into conflict with one another. The memories of the host and the symbiont were sometimes at odds with one another, and strange memories crept to the surface. 

He remembered being in two places at once – he’d woken up in his bed at the Initiates compound that morning, but also next to his wife in a different province altogether. He remembered eating scrambled eggs for breakfast, but one part of his mind – he was no longer sure which part – shouted that he hated scrambled eggs. 

But the eggs had been lovingly prepared by the woman he’d seen crying in the hospital earlier – not a stranger at all. She had been his wife, and he had loved her dearly. He knew her favorite flower, her favorite perfume, how she liked her morning coffee, the touch of her skin.

And the two younger people he’d seen comforting her. Kylar, and Daydra. Good lads – those were his children. Or rather, Wilem’s children. 

Wilem. That was his name. Wilem Bast. Or rather, his previous self’s name. He looked over at Wilem Bast, lying on the table next to him, and a strange sensation washed over him, as he looked at himself from outside his own body.

Now he was Temerant Bast.

He turned his head, and looked at the nurse seated next to him. She had a knowing smile on her face, as if she knew exactly what he was going through.  From somewhere deep inside, he suddenly realized that he knew her. She had aged since the last time he’d seen her, but she’d been there when the Bast symbiont had been joined to Wilem. Now the hair was streaked with grey, and fine lines had appeared around her eyes and mouth, but the eyes themselves were the same.

He smiled, and opened his mouth. “Hell–” he started to say, before an odd feeling sprang to mind.

He ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth. It wasn’t as he last remembered it.

“New teeth, that’s weird,” he muttered.

Lieutenant Carson had completed his third after action review of the day, having tied up a holodeck for his department’s training purposes without a break. First was his security team, then a tactical exercise, and finally a solo run with James throwing  variety of scenarios where he may have to lead the defense of the ship against the entity. Deep down he knew all but the tactical exercise weren’t exactly necessary; there was no likely scenario where his security officers would take on their foe, that didn’t mean things had gone extraordinarily terrible. And, the final stretch of exercises really did little more than to placate his own insecurities.  

Truth be told; he was in so far over his head he couldn’t see the surface by a mile. His career had been stellar, but nothing he’d done came close to this. The fact that it was a very real possibility that Jame’s first action as Chief Tactical Officer would be a fight against the closest thing to a mythical beast there could be, well, it wasn’t a good time to be his nervous system.

The Lieutenant in question stepped into his quarters, waiting for the doors to close behind him before letting out a noise not unlike an untied balloon flying around the room. He stared at the viewscreen on the wall, having entered in his message, letting out a much calmer sigh before executing the command. The response was quicker than he expected, although James didn’t expect to be left waiting long anyway.

A man appeared on the screen, similar to himself but older, and with Captain pips where his meager pip and a half sat. The man smiled, “Jay! Isn’t it past your past your bed time?”

“Good Evening, Sir!” James snapped off a perfect, but yet somehow patronizing salute. “No, Sir! The work never ends for us junior officers. A man of your age.. Stature, I mean, I thought you’d want to be well rested for tea and golf with the admiralty in the morning.”

Captain Andrew Carson couldn’t help but laugh at his little brother. “Oh, little Jay. Remind me to send my condolences to Captain Plase. I should have warned him you were coming.” His smile wained slightly. “How are things?”

“Could be better.” Jay sat down, trying to hide how tired he truly felt, but explaining the situation. 

“You’re not the first member of the ‘Fleet to feel like the weight of the universe weighs on your shoulders. And, like any good Officer, your universe is your ship. Your crew.” Andrew nodded knowingly, his own career starting in much more humble beginnings but forged through conflict, struggle, and loss. “James, do your job. That’s all anyone will ever ask of you. Do it well, and your ship will be in good hands.”

The junior Carson matched the nod. He felt like a little boy again, looking up to his big brother like a superhero. The memory of watching his sibling graduate from the Starfleet Technical Services Academy, he knew that one day he’d follow in his footsteps. That day had come, but he still admired the man no less. “Thanks, bro. I will.”

The conversation continued, catching up, the fleet, family, hobbies, but little more about the mission. They stalled until inevitable end of the conversation was at hand, “It was good to hear from you, Jay. We’ll talk soon. Take care of your business, and maybe next time you’ll call just to chat.” 

James smiled. “Isn’t that what this was?” He responded with a smirk. “I know you’d be worried, Captain.”

The aforementioned Captain rolled his eyes, “Yea, you bet, Lieutenant. And if you salute me again I’ll personally nail that hand to my wall. Goodnight, fella.”

James raised his hand in a salute-like motion, before turning the gesture into a wave. “Goodnight.” 

The screen went blank and Carson sighed again, but this time there was relief, and he had a job to do.

OFF:

Lieutenant, Junior Grade James Carson

Chief Security/Tactical Officer, USS Cygnus

The streaking stars resolved into individual points of light as the USS Cygnus dropped to sublight velocity. Ahead of the ship, less than ten million kilometers away, was the object of their pursuit: the Crystalline Entity. They had effectively tracked the creature to an area of open space less than two light years from the Cardassian border. 

Now they just needed to figure out what they were going to do…slay the beast, or attempt to reason with the life form. 

“As soon as we are in range, get a weapons lock,” Erik said, not entirely sure as to whether or not it would do any good. “Auxiliary power to forward shields.“ 

Next to Larsen, in the center seat, Bane listened as his Executive Officer did what he was supposed to do, to protect the ship and her crew as best he could. 

Forward right of the two officers in command of the ship sat Ensign Roberts, manning the Conn position. He manipulated his controls to be directly in front of the beast they were challenging, bringing the colossal ship between the Entity and Cardassian space. Whatever it was they were all planning, he hoped they would make it known soon.

“Aye, sir,” Lisald said front left. On his control panel, he tapped the power distribution network control panel, and sapped power from lower-tiered operations demands, then from science, and shunted all available warp power to the shields and weapons, meant for Lieutenant Carson to use, should he need them (and Lisald desperately hoped not). Then following the orders of the Executive Officer, Lisald opened up auxiliary power and directed all the available power there right into the forward shields. Lisald scarcely had a moment to wonder if the plan that he and Spangler came up with would work, or if they would be fighting for their very lives, and the lives of all the Cardassians that lay behind them, in the next few moments.

“Mr. Spangler, any chance we can communicate with it like the Enterprise claimed they could?” Bane was looking for any reason to not have to fire on it, and was looking to his Chief Science Officer for any options. If they could just -talk- to it, maybe they could do some good, and save a unique and beautiful life.

Spangler hesitated; it was a complex question that he had not nearly the time, or honestly the understanding, to answer completely. But, he had done his homework and replicated the Enterprise’s data logs as close as he could. “Sir, starboard long range sensor pallets have been configured pulse at it’s resonance frequency. If it should have worked then..” Albert trailed off, finally looking at his Captain. “I’m ready when you are, Captain.”

It wasn’t much to go on, but it was now or never. Even though the ships computer kept the Crystalline Entity perfectly centered in the frame that was the forward viewscreen, he knew it was getting close. He looked over to his Executive Officer. “Number One,” he said, oblivious to a famous Starfleet Captain calling his own First Officer that, in a way that told him without having to tell him to give the order.

From up front, Lisald added a bit of power from the last of his reserves to the starboard long range sensor pallets. He figuratively crossed his fingers, hoping for some sort of response.

Larsen gave the Captain a silent nod, acknowledging the unspoken order.  The Executive Officer stood, his eyes fixed on the forward view screen, and pulled down the front of his uniform tunic.  “Mister Spangler, initiate on my mark. Three, two one…mark.”

The Bridge was deathly quiet for what seemed like an eternity, but was actually just a few seconds. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath in anticipation. “Any change?” queried Larsen.

The Tactical Station anxiously awaited it’s commands, if, a computer terminal could be aware of such things. In any case, Carson stared incredulously at the Science Officer, thankful the moment was not yet on his shoulders.

The ‘message’ had been sent. A carefully arrange set of pulses, designed to to appear as intentional communication. “It, uh, knows we’re here. Port arrays are set to receive a similar return.” Spangler stared at his console, wondering how the hell he was to translate Crystalline Morse code into literally anything. The horror albert felt split equally between what would happen if the creature did not respond, or what he’d do if it did. 

“Try altering the frequency and amplitude parameters of the pulses,” said Erik calmly. “We may need something more energetic to get that thing’s attention.”

“Careful,” Bane said, raising his hand and finger in the general direction of the Chief Science Officer, without taking his eyes off his own display monitor, reading the information as it came in real time. “We want to try and avoid the same mistakes the Enterprise made last time one of these creatures was encountered.” Bane knew it would be a balancing act at best. The fact they were up against a wall did not help matters.

Albert began to carry out the Executive Officer’s instruction, stopping just as his hand was about to touch the console. Looking up, the only direction he could find with some blank space to stare at briefly, his eyes tightened up in rapid thought. He immediately looked back to the view screen, and then the controls in front of him. Spangler’s hand skidded across to the other side of the terminal, narrowing the focus and increasing the resolution of the long range scanners configured to receive a response. It just occurred to him now, but maybe they were looking about this wrong. 

It didn’t take long before data began streaming across the Science console. “We.. may have something..” Spangler raced to filter through the flood of numbers, until he found the something he was referring to. “Picking up a faint reading from the center of the entity.” Albert turned to his superiors, more confident in what he was seeing, activating the ‘message’ as an audible representation for the whole bridge to hear. “Listen. It’s copying the pattern we are transmitting.” The series of static pulses was not exactly musical, but had a rhythm that could not be coincidental. As the room listened in silence, Albert modulated the pattern in frequency and tempo. Moments later the entity did the same.  

The Chief Science Officer couldn’t help but grin, “I think.. I think it worked.”

”Well done Mister Spangler,” said Erik, barely able to contain his excitement.  He had been quite skeptical as to whether or not this was going to be effective; the Chief Science Officer’s efforts had renewed Larsen’s faith. “Now we just need to figure out how to convey something like ‘Please leave our planets alone.’”

At the Operations station at the front of the Bridge, Lisald couldn’t help but laugh. The quip from the Executive Officer and the small giggle from the junior Bajoran Officer helped to alleviate the tension on the Bridge by a considerable amount. 

“Good work, Ensign,” Bane said, also smiling from the quip from the First Officer and the laugh from up front. “Please do tell it that we can provide it food until we can find it a place where it can feed without harming any civilizations,” he said, basically parroting what Commander Larsen had already stated.

The off-key tones resonated in Spangler’s mind; the reality of what he was witnessing, not just witnessing but playing part of history, was sinking in. The sense of wonder hit him, instilling a sense of pride he had never honestly felt as a Starfleet officer. It muddled his senses to everything else in the room, until he finally heard the words directed towards him and the familiar borderline panic settled back in. Albert looked back to Captain Bane, “Do what?”

Bane turned around to see his Chief Science Officer. “Let it know we have food for it, and to follow us out into open space. We will help it find a sustainable food source,” he said.

“Uh, Captain, there is a major spike in its intensity. I am not sure what this means,” Lisald said from the Operations station. As the words left his mouth, warning alarms started sounding at Science, Tactical, the Executive Officer seat, and Bane’s own display station. 

No sooner Bane had turned his head back to the viewscreen, before he could take a look at his display, and before anyone else had a chance to speak, the deck tilted, hard, to the port side at a five degree angle. Anything that was not cold-welded to the superstructure throughout the ship, or had been braced, went crashing to the deck. An enormous bang crashed into everyone’s ears, the sound of energy weapons smashing into their shields. Sparks showered down from the ceiling, and in front of Bane and Larsen, the Operations panel exploded in a fountain of flying debris and flame. Another sound caught everyone’s ears on the Bridge, the unmistakable sound of guttural pain and distress. As the flame and sparks and smoke cleared, the Operations station was a smoldering hulk of its former self, and Lieutenant Lisald lay on the deck, singed, and the unmistakable pool of blood forming under him, flowing freely from the wound in his upper left chest.

“Good Prophets,” Bane exclaimed. “Evasive maneuvers! All stations, report!”

Erik Larsen had instinctively used his right arm to shield his face when the Ops console exploded, and now he was plucking shards of polymer debris from his forearm. There was a small amount of blood, but he most certainly had fared better than their Ops Chief. Acting as quickly as his legs would carry him, the XO dashed to the Science II station and rerouted Ops control there with a rapid series of commands. The stream of data from the ship systems was not good at all. 

“Dorsal shields are down,” he reported. “Forward shields at twenty-seven percent and falling. Transporters are also offline, and main power is fluctuating…switching to auxiliary.“ He Keyes another series of commands, opening a channel to Sickbay. “Medical team to the Bridge.”

Bane bellowed over the cacophony of the klaxon blaring, Lisald screaming in pain, the First Officer issuing orders and other people on the bridge taking and yelling to issue orders to various parts of the ship. “Mr. Carson, defensive pattern Omega Nine! Return fire!”

“Aye, sir.” The Tactical Officer replied in a strangely calm voice, adrenaline surging to replace fear, his training pushing out uncertainty. James had already been shifting shield power forward, and the weapons were ready. “Firing!” 

Angry reddish-orange beams of partially phased nadion particles lanced across space from the Cygnus’s main arrays, impacting and severing one of the creature’s branches. A brace of orange photon torpedoes pulverized that severed section to tiny crystal splinters.  Several more shots from the phaser arrays did more damage, but apparently did not weaken the creature’s resolve. The Crystalline Entity stood it’s ground, even advancing 1,000 kilometers closer to the damaged Nebula class cruiser. But it did not fire it’s weapon, at least not immediately. 

Grateful for the momentary reprieve, Erik Larsen issued another systems status report. “Dorsal shields are coming back online. Shields will be fully restored in approximately three minutes. Auxiliary power is holding for now, but transporters and warp drive are still offline.“ The XO paused for a moment. “Captain, after reviewing the work of Dr. Kila Marr and the Enterprise’s encounter with one of these creatures, I believe we can destroy this thing. I would need about ten minutes to realign the emitters of the deflector dish to emit a high amplitude continuous graviton beam.“

Bane mulled it for the briefest of moments. The Starfleet Officer in him didn’t want to have to destroy a life. The scientist in him wanted to study this creature in detail, to push the envelope of understanding and cooperation. But he saw Lisald on the deck bleeding, and knew that there were likely others across the ship. If they didn’t stop this thing now, everyone would be dead, and so would entire planets worth of population. He looked to his First Officer. “You’ve got five, Commander. Lieutenant Carsen, let’s make five minutes.”

Spangler’s eyes were transfixed on his injured friend. Over the course of mere minutes his emotions had ran their course; the scientific intrigue and raw excitement were now replaced with simple anger. The moment Lisald hit the ground, Spangler knew what must happen. He’d gone over the Enterprise papers more than anyone, including how the story ended. The Captain’s words were almost a relief.

“The emitters are already configured.” Spangler broke his gaze away from Lisald, turning to the Captain. He spoke in a low, but certain tone, “On your command, Sir. We’ll end this.”

Bane was relieved to no end that Mr. Spangler had an ace up his sleeve. He would have to remember that, and enter it into his service jacket as a special commendation. “Yes Ensign, make it happen,” he ordered. He was strangely calm, strangely at peace with the decision. They had attempted to communicate, attempted to come to a peaceful resolution, and failing that, had defended the lives of all the Cardassians just beyond the border, and who knows what else beyond that. He watched the viewscreen as the scene unfolded.

A low-pitched humming filled the Bridge as the emitter array began its activation sequence, rising in frequency until Erik Larsen could almost literally feel his teeth shaking in the back of his skull. The blue-green graviton beam shot forward from the main deflector dish, impacting the Crystalline Entity near its center. The mammoth cosmozoan halted immediately as if it had slammed into a sudden stop by a force field; for a long moment, the creature was motionless. After maybe five seconds, the creature began to visibly vibrate and was attempting to pull away from the beam. The vibrations quickly increased in intensity as the Entity attempted to make a final run at the Cygnus; the creature only made it 400 more meters before it exploded in a shimmering cascade of silicon crystal shards.

”Target has been destroyed,” said Larsen.

The bridge filled with an overwhelming silence. The fervor that came with the brief fight was suddenly replaced with nothing. The viewscreen had a lock on the collective attention of room; the cascade of disintegrating crystal invoking relief, horror, disappointment. Albert felt nauseous; his struggling to focus on a blurred in a near pinpoint focus on what he had just witnessed. What he had just done. Slowly, his field of view expanded as the ringing in his ear’s faded. As reality set back in, he remembered his friend laying on the deck. 

The immediate threat subsided, he knelt by the injured Bajoran. Albert began rendering aid on the unconscious man, paying no attention to the rest of the room. He reached to activate his comm badge to call for a medical team, forgetting one had already been called. Before the words could come out, the medical team had already arrived, pushing the Ensign out of the way. Albert stood roughly, the adrenaline dump and subsequent crash slowing his comprehension of what was happening. The looks he was getting were not lost on him and as his mind cleared, he nodded to no one in general, before returning to his console. 

The Captain watched as the pieces of what used to be a living creature slowly drifted off in all directions. He felt a strong sense of loss for its life, but he knew they had done everything they could to stop it, to turn it around, to do anything other than what it had done. While they had failed in that part of their mission, he felt confident that they had done what was necessary. They had used the same technique the Enterprise had used those many years ago, but this time because of very different reasons. He looked over to see Spangler walking away from his friend, clearly shook. He remembered a time that Albert didn’t really care for Vaat; he was glad to see that their service to this ship, to the crew, and to each other had cleared away whatever it was between them. He watched as Lisald was stabilized and carried in a hover-stretcher off the Bridge and to Sickbay. Hopefully he would recover. As the medical team was leaving, one of them looked over to Albert and nodded reassuringly, which made Bane feel better. He inhaled deeply, looked around at the shambles that was his bridge, looked at each of the remaining people here that were not hurt or otherwise went off to perform their duties elsewhere, and let out that breath heavily. “Mr. Larsen, lets head back to Deep Space 9. Also, see to repairs. I’ll be in the Ready Room notifying Starfleet. You have the Bridge.” Bane looked around one more time, stood and disappeared behind the door to his office.

END OF MISSION