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MARS
Commander Colin Becker looked down at the chip in his hands, gripping it as if afraid it might disappear at any moment. Disbelieving, he played the message over again in his mind:
**As of SD 11.893948, you are hereby promoted to the rank of Captain. You have been assigned to the USS Prometheus, NCC-45849, a newly commissioned deep space vessel. Proceed immediately to Starbase 182 for debriefing and to board ship and assume command. Fail to discharge the duty placed apon you at your own peril.**
Someone had actually decided to promote him-even after all that had happened. An image of an Iyan flashed unbidden in his mind and he immediately banished it. He would not think of them, or the capture of himself and his crewmates during an away mission gone wrong, or the psychic torture that he had undergone at the hands of that telepathic race.
He refused to think of any of these things as he continued to gaze at the chip. He wasn't ready, he knew, for the responsibility of a Captaincy. It must have been a mistake--he was perfectly comfortable in the role of first officer--he had been one for several years. But now--a Captain.
His eyes strayed involuntarily to the box with the shiny metal casing that sat on the bed. It would be strange to wear a uniform again. He had grown accustomed to the casual grey jumpsuit he had lived in for so many months now. He had grown comfortable with this place he was in, avoiding the knowledge that he would be forced to leave someday.
And now it appeared that someday was now. He just hoped he would not disappoint those who had given him this gift. Or burden, depending on how you looked at it.
As if on cue, the door to his room slid open. A man stepped in and regarded him silently.
"Hello, Captain."he said quietly.
"Doctor." Colin nodded in acknowledgement. "I see you have already heard the news." he smiled faintly.
The other man shrugged. "The grapevine travels fast. What can I say?"
"Do you thing I'm ready?" The question was asked half in jest, but Colin could not quite conceal his fear.
"What I think isn't important. Do you think you are?"
"I don't know."Colin answered honestly.
Silence hung between them. At last, the man cleared his throat and said,
"Well, it's time to find out. Let's go sign out."
Colin made no attempt to rise. The other man sighed, crossed over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"It's time to go."he said gently. "There's a shuttle waiting to transport you to Starbase 182."
Colin sighed heavily. His few belongins had already been removed from the room. They were most likely aboard the shuttle. It was time for him to do his duty.
"Come on. Let's go. Let me discharge you and sign you out."
"Alright." Colin was surprised at how calm he sounded as he followed the doctor out of his room. Within moments, he was waived through the forcefield and directed to the shuttlecraft waiting at the perimeter of the building's grounds. He was finally leaving Mars Colony Psychiatric Hospital.
He did not look back.
If the pilot showed any surprise at the appearance of his passenger, he did not show it. He took in Colin's rumpled jumpsuit and hollow cheeks, estimating his age at mid to late thirties, and his stance and bearing indicated the man's rank was most likely higher than his own.
"Sir." he said as the man approached, deciding this was the safest form of address.
"Ensign."
"Your bags are in the cargo area, sir. Will you be needing anything else before we leave?"
"No." Colin sighed. "I'm afraid I'm ready to go."
Puzzled at the strange remark, the ensign stepped aside to allow his passenger entry to the shuttle. He glanced once again at the large sign to the psychiatric facility, his curiosity sparked as to who his guest might be and what business he might have at the starbase.
II
STARBASE OMEGA
Erik van Paten sat back in his seat, eyeing the woman that had suddenly appeared before him with undisguised admiration. She wore form fitting black pants with a mustard colored tunic and a pair of lieutenant commander's pips with a duffel casually slung over her shoulder. Her long, honey blond hair was pulled back in an elaborate braid which only complemented her fair,aristocratic features.
He couldn't see her eyes--they were hidden behind a pair of dark, tinted frames, but he was certain they were no less stunning than the rest of her.
She leaned over the Admiral aide's desk and offered him a slow smile, fully aware of the effect she seemed to have. In fact, by her very stance and behavior she obviously knew how to use her appearance to her advantage.
"Hello, there. I hope you can help me. I just came in from Starbase Gamma and I'm exhausted. I'm to meet with Admiral Devaine--is he in?"
"Your name, please?"
"Naeve Sevril." There was that smile again.
Eager to please, Erik glanced at his PADD. He frowned. "You're scheduled with him tomorrow, Lieutenant Commander."
He barely noticed her well concealed flicker of annoyance as she said, "I know...I'm just eager for my transfer orders and I'd hoped to be able to ship out tomorrow for my new assignment. You understand." she smiled again disarmingly.
"I'm sorry." he shook his head.regretfully. "He's in a 'base meeting and then he's got plans for the rest of the night."
Naeve shrugged. "I understand. I'll be back tomorrow at 0900." She straightened and readjusted her duffel.
Reluctant to see her go, Erik stammered, "Wait! I mean---let me show you around the starbase. Omega's promenade has some great restaurants. I'll buy you dinner."
"Thanks, but I'm really tired. As I said before, it was a long shuttle ride. But thanks for the offer." she said casually, and headed for the door. She spared him a last glance over her shoulder, winked, and said, "See you in the morning."
She exited into the corridor and headed purposefully toward the turbolift. Although she hadn't really thought she'd be able to sneak into a meeting with the Admiral, it had been worth a try. She'd just have to wait til tomorrow to learn her new billet. But Erik was right. Omega had a big promenade and an infamous nightlife. She might as well take advantage of it.
The turbolift opened into a throng of beings of various races and species all going about their business along the crowded, noisy walkways. naeve glanced at some of the restaurant and shop signs, disregarded them, but then her attention shifted to a large print announcement on the side of a dingy looking establishment.
"The Spacer's Rest. How original." she murmered dryly. As she started to pass it by, she suddenly changed her mind and returned to the dark entranceway. Inside, it was so dim she was forced to remove her tinted glasses. There was a healthy mix of Starfleet officers, traders and tourists weaving between each other in the smoky haze. She accepted the laviscious stares as well as the covert glances as she threaded her way through the crowd to the bar.
The Klingon bartender leered at her as she sat down, pausing his work of polishing a glass to ask, "A drink?"
"Don't mind if I do." Naeve considered for a moment, then deliberately said, "Warnog."
The Klingon regarded her thoughtfully, then threw back his head and burst into laughter. Naeve leaned towards him, raised an eyebrow, and asked, challengingly, "Don't you carry it?"
Still grinning, he shook his head scornfully. "But of course. What Klingon establishment wouldn't?" Are you sure that is what you wish? Warnog can be...hard on the delicate human digestive system. It is more suited to....Klingon physiology."
"You don't say."she commented mildly. "I've never had a problem with it before."
"As you wish." He reached underneath the counter for a large, clear flask and poured a fiery red liquid into a glass. He placed the glass onto the counter top and slid it towards her, revealing his jagged, uneven teeth in a wide grin of anticipation.
"Bottom's up." Naeve cheerfully raised the glass in mock solute, and downed the liquid in one swallow. Ignoring the burning sensation in her throat and the tears in her eyes, she slammed the now empty glass onto the counter.
"Another." she demanded.
* * * * * * *
Commander Mark O'Conner weaved through the bodies in the dark and smoky bar, his attention focused solely on the georgeous blonde laughing with the barkeep. He had been watching her for a while and now he decided to include her in his plans for the evening. Sliding into the seat next to her, he flashed his best smile, the one that rarely failed him with the opposite sex.
"Can I buy you a drink?"
The blonde flicked him a bored glance and gestured to her glass. "I've already got one."
"It's almost empty."he persisted.
She turned her full attention to him now, her green eyes appraising what she saw. "If you're trying to hit on me, you're going to have to do better than that." she remarked.
Mark chuckled. "Ok, Ok, how about the direct approach?" he held out his hand. "Mark O'Conner, formerly Ops officer of the USS Victorious."
As she shook it, she raised a brow in speculation. "Formerly?"
He shrugged. "I'm on my way to Starbase 182 for reassignment. Omega's a stop over."
"I see."she said noncommittally, starting to turn back to her glass.
"I didn't catch your name."
Now it was Naeve's turn to laugh. "Naeve Sevril, recently CEO of the USS Corsair. Admiral Devaine's reassigning me in the A.M. The XO position I've been waiting for."
"Impressive."Mark responded.
Naeve looked at him again, appraising him once more. "Alright Mark O'Conner of the USS Victorious. I'll have a shot of Aldebaran whiskey. Or is the offer no longer valid?"
"No ma'am." Mark gave her another disarming smile. "Aldebaran ale it is."
*************
Naeve silently slipped out of bed, moving slowly so as to not wake the man next to her. She dressed quickly, retrieving each article of clothing from where she had tossed it haphazardly the night before. Just as quickly, she plaited her long blond curls into an elaborate braid and crept close to Mark's sleeping form. He looked just as handsome asleep, she decided, as she kissed him softly on the cheek. At her touch, one eye opened and a hand snaked out from under the covers to grip her wrist.
"Are you leaving already?" Mark pulled her towards him.
She laughed. "I told you I had a morning meeting with the Admiral"
His arms encircled her waist. "Ah, yes. Your XO billet. Hope you get it."
"Thanks."
They kissed again, more deeply this time,then he released her and grinned. She smiled back, and as she picked up her duffel, she said, "Thanks for the drink."
"Good luck in your new assignment."
"You too, Mark." She'd probably never see him again, but she would have pleasant memories of Omega.
As Mark watched her let herself out of his temporary quarters, he closed his eyes and smiled to himself as he made no move to get out of bed. He'd have plenty of time to read the specs on his new ship assignment before his arrival at SB 182.
"Now I need some sleep." he mumbled as he reached for a pillow.
He certainly hadn't had any last night.
III
USS ARMSTRONG
Lieutenant Commander Kellah T'oth sighed as she appraised the sullen woman standing on the other side of her desk. According to the report she had recieved from her aCEO, she ahd lost her temper and been insubordinate to the team leader on Beta watch--again. It was the second time this month, forcing her to make a note of reprimand in the woman's personnel file.
Rhianna Jorrell's 5'10" frame was rigidly erect, her hands in fists at her side, a completely unrepentent expression on her face. As she stood in judgement before her superior, her blue eyes were a combination of ice and fury.
"I appreciate your stopping by, Lieutenant." Kellah said dryly.
"Sir." Rhianna answered in a tone bordering on rudeness.
"i've already read the report. Now I'd like to hear your side." Kellah sat back and folded her pale blue arms across her chest.
"I was insubordinate." Rhianna bit out the words. One of Kellah's antennae twitched in annoyance at her response.
"I already know that. Tell me why."she said impatiently.
Rhianna locked gazed with the Andorian engineering chief . "Why does it matter? It wont change the outcome, will it? You've already made a notation in my record."
"That's something yo forced me to do , Lieutenant. I warned you I would if it happened again." Kellah said quietly. Rhianna Jorrell was the Armstrong's System Specialist. She oversaw a team of twenty, and she was one of the best engineers Kellah had worked with in a long time.
"I prefer not to discuss it."
"Rhianna," Kellah attempted to bring the discussion to a more personal level. "I don't want you jeopardizing your Starfleet career. Tell me what happened. Maybe I can use that information as mitigating circumstances."
"Is that an order? "Rhianna challenged.
Kellah watched her silently for a moment, not bothering to hide her disappointment. "No, it's a request."
"Then I prefer not to answer, sir. It no longer matters."
"Very well, Lieutenant. That is all I require from you. Please report to the Captain's ready room. He wishes to speak to you." Kellah finished coldly and swiveled her chair so that her back was to Rhianna. She picked up a PADD and did not look up again. Rhianna had clearly been dismissed.
***********
"Come." Captain Amos Jordain called in response to the chime signal.
A woman in a mustard yellow tunic stepped into his ready room and regarded him with wary apprehension. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Ah, yes! Lieutenant Jorrell, isn't it?" he beckoned her and indicated that she sit down.
She didn't look like a trouble maker, he thought. Young, attractive with dark, shoulder length hair, high cheekbones and upswept brows that added a touch of the exotic to her features. But she looked very different on paper. From what he'd read, she was a brilliant engineer with a chip on her shoulder and several personality defects. He liked his departments to run smoothy, and Rhianna Jorrell was a kink in Engineering. That was why, when Admiral Ito had asked for a list of qualified candidates for reassignment, Jorrell's name had been at the top of his list.
He smiled warmly, attempting to put the nervous woman at ease. "I have some good news for you, Lieutenant."
Rhianna said nothing. She almost forgot to breathe as she waited with some trepidation for him to continue.
"I recieved a communique from Starfleet Command this morning. Among other things, it included your transfer orders."
Rhianna raised her head sharply, her eyes widening in alarm. "I'm being reassigned?" Her shoulders slumped visibly. This would make the third transfer in five years---one more mark on her record. Not that she blamed Kellah T'oth for requesting to boot her off the ship. She had tolerated her presence longer than some of the other CEOs she had worked under.
The Captain intruded on her thoughts. "........ fine ship. It's a deep space vessel, brand new, top of the line, just out of drydock. I'm sure Engineering will be equipped with everything you've ever dreamed of. And you'll have a large staff reporting to you."
"Reporting to me, sir?" Rhianna widened her eyes in surprise.
"Why, yes Lieutenant. You're the new CEO of the USS Prometheus. Congratulations."
"CEO? There must be some mistake." she blurted out.
"I don't believe so. Here are your orders." He pushed a disc across the table at her. "I couldn't be more pleased for you."
* Or for the Armstrong.* he added privately.
IV
DEEP SPACE 12
"Daniel!"
He checked his PADD again. The list was complete, everything had been done. It was the third time that he'd reviewed it that hour--it never hurt to be thorough--and everything was as it should be.
"Daniel!"
Maybe he should check the hydroponics bay again and make sure the seeds and clippings he'd packed would be enough. And he really should recheck his old quarters again to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything....
"Daniel!" The voice sounded much closer this time and within moments, Ensign Melania Rodriguez popped her head into the room, her expression accusing.
"I've been looking all over for you! Why didn't you answer me?" she demanded in exasperation.
Lieutenant Junior Grade Daniel Ryan shrugged. " I wanted to make sure everything was in order for my replacement--"
She waved her hand impatiently and interrupted. "--who hasn't been chosen yet. Besides, you've been preparing for your departure for over a week."
"I wanted a smooth transition." he said defensively.
"Will you relax? We'll be fine and so will you. You've been talking about transferring off this place for the past year."
"I know. I just didn't think it would happen so....soon."
Melania smiled and placed a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "Jared Ocat ran this science lab into the ground. ou came, took charge, and I can barely recognized the mess it used to be. You'll be a great science officer on that fancy new starship of yours."
Daniel grinned. "Thanks, Melania."
"Now march yourself over to Shuttlebay Three. They're waiting for you."
"I'm going. I just have to--
"No."
"I need to check my quarters one last time--"
"Uh uh." Melania said firmly. "You need to go. Now."
"But what if I forgot something?"
"You've already checked. Repeatedly. And if by chance, you did, you've left a forwarding address."
"But---" He let himself be pushed out of the science lab and into the corridor where, to his surprise, his whole science team waited. Faces he had worked with for eighteen months, faces he would most likely never seen again smiled at him encouragingly. His dream had come true--a posting on a deep space exploration vessel, like the Enterprise. This was the reason he had joined Starfleet.
As he looked at each face, his smile mirrored their own.
"I'm ready."
V
SHUTTLECRAFT VOR'RIK
"Current speed, warp 2.0034. Current location, Bendar system. Estimated time to arrival at Starbase 182, 3 hours, 14 minutes, and 11.4 seconds."
The report was delivered quickly and succinctly by the young Vulcan female in the co-pilot's seat. It was the first time she had spoken since her last course update approximately an hour ago.
"Acknowledged." Vor'rik's other pilot replied, and the two of them lapsed into companiable silence once more.
Their sole passenger had not even deigned to open his eyes during this exchange. He sat with his elbows flexed, palms facing each other, fingers steepled, touching at the tips. It was his customary pose when engaged in this particular meditation technique. This was what he would miss most about his reassignment to Prometheus. In his observation, other races of the Federation seemed to have an aversion to silence, while Vulcans tended to prefer it. Turek found it particularly soothing.
He had enjoyed his time aboard the USS Galen and it's predominantly Vulcan crew. T'lar of Clan Rok'au had been his captain. He admired the efficiency with which she carried out her sometimes dangerous duties under the watchful eye of her security chief.
He preferred to work with other Vulcans--the efficency ratings of his department had naturally been higher, and the few non-Vulcans aboard were more easily forced to conform to his standards. Now it would be he who was in the minority. USS Prometheus had a more varied racial mix, with more humans than he would have preferred to be exposed to.
However, he had known this when he joined Starfleet. He had had the opportunity to remain on Vulcan and join with his betrothed, a Healer with no intention of going off planet. Instead, he had angered his mother by post-poning the marriage and seeking a Starfleet career. A career that now led him to the Prometheus.
He frowned at himself as he bacame aware of his rambling thoughts. Focus!, he berated himself silently. It would be illogical to speculate on what might await him as Prometheus' Chief Tactical/Security Officer. Instead, he reveled in the silence of the shuttle, the only sound coming from the quiet hum of it's engines. Clearing his mind of all thoughts, he retreated deeper into his meditations.
