Nick stood staring at the ship that was his to command through the curved viewports of Starbase 92. It was a day he’d thought about for years: Staring through the viewport, the sleek lines of his new command, gleaming in the starlight, perfect and beautiful, and ready for adventure. The reality of it was … painful.

The Asger had seen much, much better days. The hull was pock marked and streaked with debris hits and phaser burns. Hull plating had been patched rather than replaced in a lot of places, and it just had a general air of old about it. He knew the ship was supposed to be a dumping ground for people like him, people with black marks on their records and careers… most of these people had earned it, they’d done the things they were accused of. It pricked at his pride over and over that he’d been setup. He was here because of lies. Lies of people he’d trusted, people who’d said they were his friend and then betrayed him. His career was this… trash pile. Because of them.

He set his jaw and took a deep breath, heading toward the egress hatch. It couldn’t be that bad on the inside.

Well, maybe it could.

The acrid smell of coolant and lubricant hit his nose first, causing him to involuntarily sniff to try and get rid of the unpleasant scent, but it didn’t work. The walls were dinged and scraped, the carpet on the deck plating was worn with stains in places, even some areas along the edges of the deck plating that were rolled up and showed the adhesive bottom. The lights seemed to work consistently, which surprised him at this point.

The crew that was left mulled about lazily, going about mundane tasks wordlessly, barely acknowledging his presence if they acknowledged it at all. With a low grumble he made his way further into the ship. This was getting worse and worse…

“Oy! You must be the new captain, eh?” A voice from behind him said, pleasantly.

Nick turned back and found a diminutive man behind him, approaching with a data PADD and a smile. He was an older man, with smile lines around his eyes, and wispy gray hair. Nick couldn’t tell what department the man was from as his uniform top was rolled down around his waist. The man was covered in grease and grime from a lot of hard work aboard the ship from the looks of it.

“I am, yeah,” Nick said, a prick of embarrassment as he admitted that, not the pride he’d always hoped for.

“Ah, good,” The man said, smiling. “I’ll brief you on ship’s systems as I show you to the bridge,” He said, brightly.

Nick fell into step next to him as he headed on down the hallway, hoisting his duffle from one shoulder to the other, “Don’t know that I need it. She’s a mess,” He said, flatly.

“Oh… heh… he, sir,” The man replied with a grin.

“He?”

“Aye, the Asger… not really a lady, eh? He’s an old man, is what he is. The Old Man is what most of us call him,” He explained with a smile. “And he’s in better shape than you might think,” He replied. “Dilithium Crystals are in good shape, reacting accordingly. Reaction chamber is looking good and won’t need to be replaced for another couple of cycles. Air scrubbers and waste elimination systems are working at effective capacity. Power couplers are looking okay, but most of them are refurbished… so keep an eye on those,” He said, running through the data on the PaDD in his hand. “We’ve double bolted some of the loose deck plating around the ship down, so that should be safer now. The biogel packs on decks five and nine are a year past their optimal refit date, but we’ve got another little bit of time before they’re actually past due, so you should be okay there,” He said.

“What about the–” Nick cut short and screwed up his face. “What the *hell* is *that*?!”

The man next to him stopped too, and made a face, “Oh… Lord, have mercy, forgot about that. That’s the smell of rotten Skilt eggs… they were a gift for a diplomatic envoy and … well, it didn’t go well. The uh… the eggs soaked into the carpet and went rotten. Science assures me the smell will be gone in a few more days,” He explained, forcing a smile. “We’ll uh… we’ll just take the other corridor,” He said nodding down a side hallway.

Nick quickly followed him, happy to escape the nauseating stench. Once his eyes stopped watering, he attempted his question again, “What about the navigational systems?”

“Ah, nav systems are great. Star maps are a little out of date, so it might do to have your Ops chief download the latest maps from Starfleet’s central computers, but other than that, spot on. Nothing too bad. Weapons are in okay shape, shield generators are on point. Transporters are looking great across the board,” He said, the balked, “OH… no… Don’t use transporter room 4… The details are in the logs, but… It was pretty gruesome…”

“Don’t use Transporter Room 4… got it,” Nick replied, wide eyed.

“Yeah… Uhm… Shuttles are in great shape, though. Whoever the deck chief was before, he did a damn fine job keeping them in good running order,” He said.

As they stepped onto the bridge, the man called out, “Captain on deck!”

Nick watched as the crew members there, stood and looked at him… but definitely didn’t snap to attention like he expected. He sighed and said, “Close enough, I guess… as you were.”

The crew went back to whatever tasks they’d been previously occupied with and the older man lead the way into the ready room. Nick threw his duffle on the desk and frowned deeply as one leg on the desk cracked off, causing an entire corner of the desk to drop down. Nick sighed heavily and rubbed his temples.

“I’ll… get that fixed, Commander,” The man replied, still trying to sound bright.

“Thanks… I take it your my Chief Engineer?” Nick asked, turning back to face the man.

“Oh, no sir. Chief Malcom Bridges, at your service. I’m from the deck crew on the station,” He explained, offering his hand to shake. “Your CEO was reassigned, so I wanted to make sure I had The Old Man in the best shape I could before you took off.”

Nick shook the man’s hand and nodded, “Well, I appreciate that,” He explained.

“Of course… I’ve got a few more things to do before I head out, so I’ll go ahead to get on that, if that’s okay with you?” Bridges asked.

“Sure, go ahead,” Nick replied, looking around the ready room and sighing.

“Sir… Maybe it’s out of line, but could I offer a word of advice?” Bridges said, pausing to look back before he left.

“Can’t hurt,” Nick replied with a wry chuckle.

Malcom grinned, “Sir, The Old Man… he’s beat up and busted. Been through hell and back. But his heart… it’s still there. There’s not a bulkhead or tritanium support that doesn’t remember the good ole days. The days of being pristine and important. You trust him… give him your best… he’ll serve you well, make you proud. Feel like that’s you, too. Been through it, but you’ve got the heart. Your crew will be the same way, too. You trust ’em, show ’em they can trust you… you’ll do good. Don’t see their records, look at the people. Give them a chance, and you’ll be surprised what you can do. No one wants to be forgotten, looked down on. Remind them what they can be… And remind yourself, too, and you’ll show you’re more than the outside,” He said, earnestly, patting the bulkhead next to him, “Just like The Old Man,” He said, with a smile.

Nick grinned a bit and nodded, “I’ll try and remember that, Malcom.”

“Good,” Malcom replied with a big grin. “Good luck, Commander,” He said with a wave as he departed.

“Yeah, thanks!” Nick called after him. He sighed and looked around as the ready room again door closed behind the older man, “I’m gonna need it…”

“Reprimand, demotion, reprimand, reprimand… the list goes on.” Abigail sat in the aft compartment of a runabout en route to her new home: the USS Asger. Standing before her was a holographic projection of Admiral Baudelaire, the man who offered her the assignment. “I knew the ship was in bad shape, but you didn’t tell me about the crew. Seriously, how are any of these people still in Starfleet?” She tossed the PADD onto the runabout’s small console table and crossed her arms over her chest.

“The Asger is a blemish on Starfleet’s record. The ship, and her crew, need a leader like you to straighten them out,” the man explained. “Commander, I know you can do this. And if you do, I can promise there’s an Admiral bar in your future.”

“Tell me about this Commander… Wilde,” Abigail continued as she picked the PADD back up and resumed skimming through its contents. “I’ve looked over his official file. Commendation after commendation until one day he just decides to commit perjury? What isn’t this telling me? What happened at that trial? I need to know everything.” She couldn’t understand what was so concerning about Wilde that warranted her special assignment. The man’s record looked clean, at least as clean as anyone else on the Asger.

The Admiral clenched his jaw and glared at Abigail. “He’s reckless and impulsive. That makes him a danger to himself and others. He will destroy everything in his path, including the careers of those around him.” The man’s stern voice echoed through the runabout’s small room.

Abigail sensed the anger and intensity from the Admiral’s short explanation, but it also felt personal. She was no first-year cadet; she knew when a higher-ranking officer was playing her. She also had a feeling, from their previous conversations, that her special assignment was less than official. The need to show blind obedience was the last thing on her mind. “That’s it? That’s all you can tell me?” she asked, trying her best to keep a professional tone.

“Just remember our deal, Commander,” the Admiral stated. “Record every single thing Commander Wilde does. When he screws up, and he will screw up, report back to me. Then the Asger will be yours.”

“I need to know, if the situation becomes dire and I have no other options, do I have the authority to remove him from command?” The woman looked directly into the eyes of the hologram. She waited a few seconds and allowed the man’s silence to answer her question. “If this is about protecting the lives of 190 officers, and if Starfleet really doesn’t trust him, I need that option. If it’s as bad as you say, there will come a time when he’ll put the ship and the crew in jeopardy. I can’t do this without knowing I have some way to take control.”

The man looked down at the floor. “You’ll have to find a way, Commander.”

“What does Starfleet really think about him?” she asked as she stood up from her seat and placed her hands on her hips. “If they don’t trust him, why did they give him a command in the first place?” As the ship’s Executive Officer, she felt a responsibility to protect the entire crew – including protecting them from their Captain. Part of her couldn’t understand why the Admiral wouldn’t give her the tools she needed to carry out her assignment, but the more cynical part of her just wanted to hear him state his true intentions.

“Starfleet believes in giving second chances. Officially, Commander Wilde has earned command of the Asger, and they have faith in him. You’re there to make sure that faith wasn’t misplaced and that Wilde doesn’t get anyone killed or, worse, do irreparable damage to the Federation.”

Abigail scoffed at the man and shook her head. Hearing the words aloud while she was already en route to the Asger fueled a growing fire inside her. “Let’s be honest here, Admiral. I’m on the Asger to serve some vendetta you have against him.”

“Oh, get off your high horse, Commander. You’re gaining just as much as I am from this. You knew what this assignment was the first time we discussed it. You agreed because you want your own command. I can make that happen. We both get what we want, so don’t you dare lecture me about morality. Removing Wilde from command and placing you in charge of the Asger is in the best interests of the Federation.”

The woman turned away from the holo projection. He was right; she did want the Asger to herself. It would be a huge step forward in her career, and she wanted it more than anything else. If gaining command meant destroying a man who could put the ship in danger, she was willing to play the Admiral’s game. She looked back at the projection and bit down on her tongue to prevent herself from saying anything else.

“You have your orders, Commander. I want daily status reports.” The man waited to see Abigail’s nod and then reached his arm out of the holo projector’s view. “Good luck,” he said before the hologram disappeared.

The Commander turned to face the runabout’s aft window. She gazed out at the stars as the metal walls of the Asger’s shuttle bay slowly encapsulated the vessel. Closing her eyes, she began to wonder what exactly she’d gotten herself into.

“Commander, we’ve landed aboard the Asger,” the pilot said through the runabout’s intercom.

Abby straightened out her freshly pressed uniform and picked up her duffel bag. As the runabout’s door opened, she was welcomed by a hangar filled with spare parts on the floor, officers running around in greasy uniforms, and shuttles that looked unworthy of space travel. She stepped off of the runabout and exhaled. “So it begins,” she mumbled to herself as she walked towards the exit.

Mid-afternoon at Starbase 260 June 13, 2399

Ensign Clark was still stinging from the trial. He was told he would receive new orders soon and he was to remain at the starbase until then. He brooded for the first day as he and R’Tor drank a bit more synthehol then they should have.  R’Tor bid his friend good fortune and assured him that he would land on his feet. Edward doubted this, that was until he ran into an old flame.

According to Greek Mythology Icarus was warned not to fly too close to the sun, but the disobedient boy did not listen and he fell into the sea when, after rising too high causing the wax in his wings to melt and fall apart. According to some scholars the flight of Icarus represents the need for might be seen balance and or moderation. After recent events, Edward now saw the moral as being about someone’s desire to break boundaries and the tragic consequences they have.

The Ozone  1630 Hours

A small bar on Starbase 260 with soft lights and drinks. The environment was casual and good for social encounters. Edward sat at the bar and was pondering his life choices when he noticed a familiar silhouette. Of all the people he wanted to see, she was the one he truly wanted the most.

Joanna was just as beautiful as ever. He had not seen her in a few years, but that did not matter. He sat up and with a broad smile called out to her. “Hey spots.” His nick name for her. She blushed and brushed a bit of blond hair away from her right ear revealing her Trill spots as she approached. “You passing through?” He teased. She gave him a small smile. “No.” She laughed, “I heard about your situation.”  He gave a small nod in response. “And you decided to come and give me a shoulder to cry on?”

She shook her head. “Not in the least. I wanted to be within sensor range when you were given your own command.”  They looked at each other and both laughed and then hugged.  “Ahh, Joanna I have missed you.” She put her hand in his and sat at the empty seat. “What are we drinking?” She inquired, he responded with a wink – “A lot.”

They made quiet small talk, and realized that they had a fair amount to catch up on. Like him, she had a wry, even subtle, sense of humor. After a few drinks he suggested that they continue their conversation in his cabin. To his surprise she agreed.

LATER THAT NIGHT.

He stood looking out the window, staring into the depth of space. His mind wandered. He was disgusted and angry with himself. How could he be so reckless. Trying to be a hero ?  Wanting to gain another pip on his collar ? Or a shiny medal. “No.” He chided himself with a few choice words. The trial caused him to question everything. For some reason he hoped she would understand and realize he was doing all he could just to keep it together. But she was here now….his thoughts trailed off.

Joanna came up behind him and wrapped one of the blankets around his shoulders. He felt the icy cold of her hands  and shivered. She began to knead his neck and shoulders slowly. He reached up and touched one of her hands briefly and gently to show his appreciation before allowing her to continue for a few minutes. “You seem  preoccupied?”  She asked, knowing full well that the demotion weighted heavy on him.

He sighed slowly. “Just wondering.”  He turned and wrapped his arms around her, “About hat could have been.”  The  blanket to dropped to the floor as she looked up at him with compassion in her eyes, but mostly desire.

Hours later when she woke, Edward was laying on his side, arms wrapped around her naked body. She felt comfortable and warm. How she wished to stay, but it would be better for both of them this way.

As she dressed, she had no regrets. She set a PADD down on the night stand next to him and made her way to the door. She stopped as it slowly hissed open and looked back at her lover.

The past two days had been their time of healing together.  The doors hissed shut.

When Edward woke, he felt around the bed, but only found the PADD. It held a note from Joanna and his orders.

TRANSPORT SHIP IN ROUT TO STARBASE 92 June 15, 2399

Hours later, Edward was sitting on a transport heading to his next assignment. There was a a dull ach in his hear and a knot in his stomach.

PADD

Dear Edward,

It always seems like we are being parted for one reason or another,  but we both have so much to prove. Mostly to ourselves.

When I heard what happened, I needed to be there for you. This may not make sense, but had I stayed I would not have left.  We will meet again and you are never far from my thoughts.

P.S.  If you’re as good a pilot as I know you are, you will be soaring again soon.

Yours always,

Joanna

The message was cryptic but reassuring.  He scrolled to the next message. His orders. He kept telling himself that most of the rumors he heard had to be just that, rumors.

Upon arriving at Starbase 92, he looked out the window and noticed the patchwork on the outside of the ship. “What the hell.” He almost shouted.  Another passenger heard him and responded.

“Its not Hell, but you can see it from here.”

As Edward looked at the exterior of the ship, all he could think is. It will need a lot more wax for it to fly.

USS Asger

Deck 2 – Crew Quarters Room 1125

For anyone living on a Starbase or Starship, standard living quarters tend to look similar, thus the word ‘standard.’  It falls to the individual to decorate and give their accommodations its own unique look and feel. A sense of home of sorts. The place where a person sleeps and spends their down time.

As Ensign Edward Clark stood staring into his room, he shook his head and almost expected to see a rat run out of the room. “Lights.” Instead of the room slowly becoming illuminated, the lights flickered and then finally came on. At first Edward thought of contacting engineering but chose to wait. If anything, he guessed he’d have a long list for them before completing his inspection of the room. At first glance, he wanted to tear the carpet out.

The furniture was dark and overused. Edward wanted to drag everything that was not bolted down and shove it out an airlock. The idea of seeing tables, chairs and a bed floating caused him to smirk to himself. And while that idea intrigued him, he thought it would be better to take everything to the mass replicator in the docking bay and recycle them.

Before making doing anything, Edward figured it would be best to ask for permission.

“Computer locate Commander Williams”

After meeting both the Asger’s Captain and Doctor, Abby finally had some time to settle in to her new assignment. At first, her office looked like the rest of the ship: falling apart and disorganized. Her predecessor left most of their belongings, which Abby understood to mean their departure was both abrupt and unexpected. After over an hour of cleaning, she managed to move the clutter to one corner and had begun unpacking some of her personal items, including her two framed degrees and some mementos from Browder IV.

The ship’s computer informed Edward where the XO was located.  He made his way to her room and pressed the chime. Edward stood pensively waiting.  He wanted to make a good impression, but he knew little about Commander Williams, other than she was a well-respected scientist.  Other than his record, she may not know much of him.  And frankly his record did not portray him in the best of light, or at least that is what Edward believed.

Hearing the chime at her door, Abby lifted the box up from her desk and placed it on the floor. As she moved to take a seat, she kicked the box across the floor into the messy corner. “Come in,” she called out as she turned on her computer.

With a slight hiss the doors opened, and Edward bowed forward to peer into the room.

“Commander…Hello.” He gave sheepish wave and took one small step into the room.  “I hope I am not interrupting, but I wanted to report and also ask a few questions.” He stopped and looked at the condition of the room. “That is, if you have time.”

The Commander looked up from her desk and saw the man standing in her doorway. “Not at all, Lieutenant… Clark, is it?” She gestured towards the two small chairs sitting directly in front of her desk. “How can I help?” she asked, giving the man a reassuring smile.

Edward gave a small cough, “Actually its Ensign.” He almost flinched when he said it as the demotion still stung a bit.

Abby looked down at her computer to confirm the man’s rank, and it was indeed Ensign. Apparently she overlooked the fact that he was demoted after his court martial, and sat in awe of the fact that this is who Starfleet assigned as the Asger’s Chief Helmsman.

“Commander, I was wondering about our protocol our quarters.” He inhaled slowly to calm himself. “The furnishing in my quarters, well..umm.”  He was not quite sure how to describe them, but having been raised in rural Montana, he described it the best he could.  “Well.. frankly ma’am, the darn quarters looks like cattle stampeded through it.”

Edward went into detail about how all the fabric looked torn and infested with some form of flea, but he needed a tri-corder to properly identify it.  “I’d like to know if I can replace the furnishing in my quarters, with ones that will not require me to go through quarantine after sitting upon them.”

“I see,” Abby said as she pulled up a status screen on her computer terminal. “I’m afraid I can’t authorize you to replicate any new furniture right now. Our industrial replicators are being used by engineering, and even if we did have one available I can’t spare the extra power. Maybe the next time we’re at a starbase you’ll have the opportunity.” She gave the man a very frank look and leaned back in her chair. She was partially honest, the replicators were currently being used, but she also knew the man’s record and didn’t feel he deserved any special treatment. Everyone on the ship was forced to deal with similar circumstances. “But,” she continued. “I’m sure there are spare cleaning supplies in some of our storage lockers, you’re welcome to use anything you can find. So long as it isn’t already being used for official ship business.”

Edward gave a slight nod, “I understand…were all in the same boat.”  Being resolved to return and clean the room, he figured he may have to stop off at sickbay.  As he turned toward the door,  he stopped and turned back. He looked like a dog chasing his tail for a moment.

“Commander.” He stated abruptly, “We don’t know each other, and I know all you’ve got to go on is my record.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “But I’ve been a darn good pilot.”  He emphasized in a calm, mater of fact voice.

He paced just a bit but reminded himself to be at ease.  “I admit a court martial looks none too flattering on anyone’s record.”  He paused and squared his shoulders. “But some of Starfleet’s best officers have faced them and bounced back.

Edward stood his ground and his voice softened, but was resolute. “And if you’re willing to give me a chance, I’ll prove it to ya.”

Abby nodded her head and looked up at the man. “I do understand that a record only tells one part of the story,” she began. “All I can say is that I look forward to working with you, and I hope you’re more than what your record shows.” She gave him a slight smile as he stood near her door.

“There is an old Chinese proverb.” Edward paused for a moment, attempting to recall it from an philosophy course.  “It goes like this, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”  In that moment, Edward was starting to feel like he was taking his first step toward a better understanding with the XO.

Pop. Then the sound of air inflating something before another small pop.

Rinse and repeat.

It was all one Ensign Mictrin had heard for the last ten minutes as he piloted the shuttle Speedbird towards not only the destination for his cargo and single passenger, but his own new assignment and the new reassigned mothership for this particular shuttle.

“Much further Ensign?” the passenger asked from the rear compartment and he could now make out the sound of electronica music. Every time Lieutenant Blake Pisani had removed her earbuds the music genre was completely different. And some of them Grent Mictrin knew you’d need hours, if not days or a lifetime to be able to switch between.

“Another five minutes ma’am,” he replied.

To his shock he was met with the sound of silence from behind him. Actual silence. No more bubble-gum bubbles popping, no more music bleeding past the earbud seals, no more humming along with music.

Silence.

Before he could turn to investigate the co-pilot’s seat was suddenly occupied by his only passenger who quickly took to tapping away at screens. Screens which he had carefully made sure couldn’t access helm control after having been briefed by the dockmaster at their departure point.

“Don’t let her fly a shuttle. She thinks she’s some hotshot pilot but by all that is holy, she can barely fly a shuttle in a straight line.”

“Ah, there she is,” she announced as she brought up something on a screen and seemed satisfied with the result. “Ensign, this is going to be the start of just another adventure. Savour the next five minutes, it’s all work once we land.”

Like it wasn’t work flying with you for twelve hours, he thought to himself, gave her a respectful grin that said ‘Yes ma’am’ and then continued with the trip. This is going to be the longest five minutes of my career.

Throwing herself into her office chair, Blake ordered the computer to kill the music and then take the call that was the obvious cause of the alerts the desktop terminal was nagging her about. She had barely stopped the chair’s rotation when the Reliant’s crest had disappeared and been replaced with those of an old friend.

“Jacob! Darling! Wow, it’s been awhile. What can I do you for?” she asked of the older man whose office looked to be looking out over the ocean somewhere nice and tropical, the first sun just touching the horizon while the second would be at mid-afternoon back on Earth.

“Got a new assignment for you. I know, I know, we just got you that CMO spot on Reliant, but this one has a story to it,” the man said as he sat back in his chair and lifted a cup in both hands.

“Can I get a drink, or is the benevolent Captain Jacob Bennings going to suggest I get a medicinal drink?” With a clarification for the former drink choice and a pause to replicate a cup of tea, she was back. Minutes went by as two people separated by decades of life and experience caught up on the few months worth of living since their last conversation.

“Anyway Blake, back to the reason for my call. I’ve got a CMO spot on a Norway class ship, Asger, that I need to fill. I hate to do this to you Blake, but I really need you for it because I know you’re a no-nonsense operator.”

She sipped at her tea and thought for a moment. “Office politics?”

“Big time. I’ve got one admiral insisting I put an officer who will watch the CO like a hawk and report any and all indiscretions. I’ve got another who’s clearly trying to rehabilitate the CO, wanting someone who will guide and help out. And I’ve got a Captain over at Operations insisting I provide a recommendation before the end of the week or they’ll draw from a hat.”

Blake chuckled at that, sipped at her cup and then set it down. “And you oh Captain Bennings?”

“I never should have accepted a promotion that took me away from surgery. Management is not my style. Blake, never make my mistake, you hear me young lady?” He waited for her nod in the affirmative. “I frankly don’t care. I want to keep both of these pigeons happy so I figured I’ll get the best damn frontier doctor I personally know. I know you’ll help out where you can and keep the crew safe by pulling whatever levers of power you feel are needed.”

“I…thank you?” she asked, then waited for Jacob to nod and smile. “You just want someone loud to barge in so no one asks you for bullshit like this again.” Again Jacob nodded, slightly sheepishly. “Yah yah, I’ll do it, but on one condition.”

“No, I’m not sharing the recipes with you Blake.”

“Just the brownie recipe.”

“No.”

“What about two bottles of Dornian Blue?”

“For you Blake, I’ll make it three.”

“Deal. Now, tell me about this CO everyone’s so interested in?”

The shuttle safely down inside Asger’s shuttlebay, Blake was to her feet and with a pat to Mictrin’s shoulder, offered the man a smile. “Nice flying Ensign, very nice.”

“Thank you ma’am,” the man said and she could pick up the exasperation in his voice.

She worked around the stacked cargo in the back of the shuttle, collected her backpack and travel case, grabbed the leather jacket she had procured only recently and threw it over a single shoulder just as the ramp started to open. She passed the time until it was down by checking the security seals on her personal cargo and turned to find a shuttlebay that looked like it resembled her apartment during her residency then a proper flight deck.

“Sickbay had better be a damn sight better than this,” she said to herself.

A rather exasperated looking deckhand, who looked like his ego and sense of self had recently had strips taken out of it, approached and came to attention like he’d just been reminded of what that should look like. “Lieutenant Pisani ma’am, welcome aboard the Asger.”

“Pleasures all mine,” she paused to look for his rank pips, “Petty Officer.” She stepped down the ramp and stopped just as she stepped onto the deck proper. “Two things Petty Officer. All the red crates go to my quarters, everything else Ensign Mictrin has the orders for. Secondly, don’t call me ma’am. It’s Doctor Pisani.”

“Yes ma…Doctor Pisani.”

“Good. Now, where can I find the XO?”

After an interesting meeting with the Captain, Abigail sat at her science station on the bridge. Her first day made it clear that there were already some serious problems with how the ship operated, and she was compiling a list of priorities for her to take care of over the next few days. The first item on her agenda was the internal sensor network, which she had a personal vendetta against for its actions earlier that day.

While running diagnostics of the ship’s systems, she found that most functions were either offline or malfunctioning. She began the recalibration process on the sensors and, instead of waiting hours for it to finish, she decided to continue her tour of the ship to check on other departments. The first person she wanted to meet was the ship’s Chief Medical Officer. The doctor was another newcomer to the ship, and her record showed that she’d never served with Commander Wilde before. She was the only person who could relieve the man from duty, and she hadn’t been corrupted by the Asger’s crew yet.

Arriving at sickbay, Abigail found a room that was as frantic as the rest of the ship. From what she could see, at least two of the biobeds were offline and equipment was scattered throughout the room instead of in their proper storage containers. Stopping one of the nurses, she asked, “Can you tell me where I can find Dr. Pisani?”

“Uh, her office Commander,” the nurse said as he tried to point in the direction of a closed door, limited by having his hands full. He and one other nurse were busy we stacking all of the storage containers while another suddenly popped up from under one of the beds rubbing his hand, a diagnostic tool between this teeth, another in hand and a tricorder in the other. Sickbay was a disaster, but one that looked like someone had properly ‘motivated’ the staff to start sorting.

In the office, behind a door but visibly through the window, sat Blake Pisani, looking to be having a rather animated conversation with someone via her computer. The conversation came to a rather abrupt end as she got to her feet and stormed out, stopping as the doors opened and she spotted Commander Williams.

“Oh, morning Commander,” Blake spoke up, trying to force down tension out of her voice. “What can I do for you?”

“Ah, Dr. Pisani!” Abby called out from across the room. “Thank you for your help,” she told the nurse before walking over to the doctor. “I’m Commander Williams, First Officer and Chief Science Officer. I just wanted to introduce myself and see how you’re settling in down here.” As she spoke, she moved to the woman’s side so they could both view the work being done in the room. “It seems like you’re inheriting quite a space. Is there anything else you’ll need to get your department operational?”

“Baryon sweep of the ship?” Blake answered before indicating back to her office, inviting the Commander into her sanctum for a seat. “They’re reasonably good people, got let down by their last boss. Going to take awhile to whip them into shape I think, but it’s not a lost cause yet.”

Blake plopped down into her seat and sighed. “Equipment issues, but I think I’ve yelled at enough people to at least get spare parts delivered. Ensign Lewis passed basic engineering so should be able to get most gear working, but we’ll need help with the EMH and some of the more complex scanners.”

Abby followed Blake into her office and took a seat in front of the woman’s desk. “I’ll have engineering add it to their work schedule,” she replied. “I wasted over an hour this morning because the ship’s internal sensors weren’t configured properly, so I’m sure there are other systems just waiting to ruin someone’s day. If you run into any problems, let me know and I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”

“Much appreciated. Don’t like the EMH, but I’ll also never say no to another pair of hands in an emergency.” Leaning back, Blake offered a wry grin to Abigail. “So, I know why I’m here, how’d you end up here?”

“Oh, really?” Abby smirked. “Because I have no idea how a prestigious doctor with years of experience in frontier medicine ends up on a ship like this.” She wondered if Admiral Baudelaire placed a second person on the Asger without telling her, but it seemed unlikely. It would explain why the Admiral wouldn’t give her the authority she needed, but then he would’ve said something. It was more likely that Starfleet actually assigned a competent officer to one of the most important positions on the ship. “I’m here to see that the Asger loses its current reputation. Starfleet shouldn’t have any ships operating under these conditions.”

“Prestigious, moi?” Blake asked, hand to her chest in mock surprise. “Pretty much the same. Old mentor trying to find a solution to admiralty politics and picks me. I’ll warn you now Commander, I work hard so I can play hard. But I’m sure we can whip this crew into shape.”

“Understood, loud and clear,” Abby responded, now also leaning back in her chair. “I assure you, I’m going to do everything in my power to fix this ship. I know it’ll be an uphill battle, but I hope I can rely on your support?” She left her question broad because she didn’t even know exactly what she was asking. She just knew Dr. Pisani could be a huge asset to her mission. The doctor was probably the only other person on the ship she could trust to fulfill her duty as a Starfleet officer.

“As it stands,” Blake said, opening a drawer on her desk and pulling out a small bowl filled with lollipops, “everyone on the ship has my support.” The bowl was then placed close enough for Abigail to reach without any real effort. “You and the Captain both specifically. Figure he’s in trouble and needs a helping hand, you’re here to watch him for his first mistake and I,” she pulled out a red lollipop herself, removing the wrapper and using the sweet to emphasize her point by point at Abigail with it, “am here to help both sides. Set him straight or back you up.” Then the lollipop was popped into her mouth with a touch of flourish.

“Of course,” Abby said as she reached over to Dr. Pisani’s desk and picked up a lollipop. She examined the lollipop, took off the wrapper, and looked back up at Blake. “We all want what’s best for the ship. I’m not here watching the Captain for his first mistake; in fact, I hope he doesn’t make any mistakes. It’d make all of our lives better and easier. I just think it’s in our best interest to be prepared for any situation we may face.”

“Any situation eh?” Blake asked. “Don’t mind if I put repelling Borg invaders at the bottom of that list, will yah? But yes, best for the ship. What are we looking at for our first big mission then? Training cruise, marauding klingons, Tholian diplomacy, representing at a Betazoid state function?”

“Well, if I’m honest with you, I’m not sure if Starfleet’s even assigned a mission to us yet,” Abby replied as she placed the lollipop in her mouth and took a second to savor the indiscernible and artificial ‘berry blast’ flavor. “I think they want to make sure we’re space worthy first, and then they’ll find something for us to do. Your typical supply mission, no doubt.”

“Sounds good. Chance to let us work up as a crew. Blow out some cobwebs.” Blake shuffled the lollipop from one side of her mouth to the otherside a few times in thought. “You had lunch yet?”

“No, but I’m starving,” Abby replied. “I haven’t eaten all day and I’m stopping off at the mess hall before I go back to the bridge. Would you care to join me?”

“Sounds like a damn good idea,” Blake was on her feet quick smart and leading the way out of her domain and the ship at large.

Person Log – Ensign Edward Clark – Chief Helm Officer –USS Asger

I have reported to my new duty assignment. While I should be spending the first day programing the replicator with my my favorite stews and sandwiches, I instead have to find a way to keep my skin from itching every night.  The XO may have thought I was kidding, but I had slept in barns with less vermin than what may be crawling around in the fabrics and carpet in my quarters.  I feel like I am walking a tight rope, I’ve not felt this uptight since  had to do my first solo shuttle landing.

Edward continued to ponder the XO’s words as he strolled toward sickbay. Purhaps the doctor would have some suggestions, he mused. At the very least he could get his initial check up set up.

He strolled into sick bay and was caught by the activity. He did not want to get in the way, so he flagged the first person nearest to him.  “Excuse me, but I’m looking for the doctor.” His eyes scanned the room slowly.

Before the nurse could respond, Blake spoke up herself. “Behind you and out of the way.” She offloaded a box of supplies to the nurse in question. “Take these next door and give Lewis a hand will you,” she said to her subordinate. “I want all the first aid kits across the ship refreshed by the end of shift.”

“Aye ma’am,” the man said with a smile. “We’ve only got two decks left to go.”

“Well get on it then,” she responded with a smile and sent the man on his way. As for the other activity in Sickbay, a combination of medical and engineering personnel was the cause of it, with most of Sickbay in a state of disassembly as components were getting the maintenance required. One group was finishing off certifying a biobed, another group was checking the primary sensors above the primary surgical table and the last was split around the room discussing alignment for holoemitters with a flicking EMH in the middle of the room.

“This way Ensign,” Blake said to Edward finally as she headed for her office and a slightly quieter atmosphere. “Take a seat,” she indicated to the two opposite her desk as the door closed behind. “What’s the matter?” Taking her own seat she tapped at her computer, the screen coming to life and she quickly brought up the Ensign’s medical file, then turned to face him.

Edward was taken aback because she seemed very young to be a doctor. “I’m sorry to bother you with this.” He smacked the side of his neck and gave it a quick scratch before continuing. “But I think my quarters may be infested with some sort of vermin.”  He gave a shrug, “I mean, I have just gotten on board and before setting my gear down, I spoke with the XO about removing the furniture, but she suggested I clean the room, and well…I will.” Edward paused for a moment before continuing. “But figured it be best if I check in with you, and see if you had any suggestions.”

He gave the back of his head a scratch and he began to feel itchy all over just thinking about his room. “I know there are other priorities, but…” His voice trailed off because he started to feel himself rambling. “I guess what I am also dealing with is that I am trying to get my bearings after the whole demotion thing, and I am feeling a bit out of sorts.” He heaved a heavy sigh and  looked deflated as he sat back in the chair.

“Okay, a few things first. Environment sticks out the most. Give your quarters a solid clean out. Everything that can go through a recycler goes through a recycler. Carpets to be sonically blasted and vacuumed. Whole nine yards yah?” Blake asked rhetorically before continuing on. “The other thing is we can give you an antihistamine for the itching. It’s treating a symptom though, not a cause. If we’re talking vermin though an antihistamine for relief while you clean your quarters to the bulkheads should do the trick.”

Scrunching her face in thought for a moment, Blake sat back in her chair and drummed her fingers along the arms momentarily. “But you say you’re trying to get your bearings after a demotion…considered counselling? While we’re currently lacking a counsellor aboard ship, I can put you in touch with a few for remote sessions if you want. All of them specialise in remote services and a couple of them are even in the sector so call lag won’t be a thing.”

Edward stared at the ceiling in disbelief and noticed the bulkhead needed paint. He shook the thought off for a moment and turned his attention back to the doctor. Edward tilted his head to the side and let her words sink in.  He gave a small laugh as he could could not tell if she was being serious or not. “Good one Doctor.” He stood up and gave a slight nod.  “The industrial replicators that I need access to are being used by engineering, I’ve already gone over this with the XO.” He sighed.

Edward was not sure how to proceed. “Your advice is appreciated.” He spoke slowly and in a soft tone. “I don’t know how long you’ve served in Starfleet, but any cadet graduating the academy could tell you that this ship.”  And he emphasized his point by pointing at the   floor. “This ship has a history and a reputation.”  He stepped behind the chair. “Now, I get why I was posted here, heck the captain’s record is like looking at my own.”

“I don’t need counseling.” His voice took on a serious tone. “I need….”  His voice trailed off. “I need to understand if there can be any redemption on this ship.” He shook his head and gave a small shrug.

“Well, if you’ve come aboard ship already looking for defeat, you’ll find it. Or you can take this as an opportunity to get back on track and drag the ship along with you. Consider the kudos from rehabilitation for yourself and the ship?” Blake opened a drawer on her desk and fished out a single wrapped lollipop, considered the color, replaced it and then slide it across the desk. “First one is free, after that only positive vibes get more. And I think you’ll find I’ve locked the replicators so mine are always going to be the best.”

She chuckled to herself briefly then fished out a padd. “And you do need counseling Mr Clark. We all do. So,” she finished with the padd with a flourish and slid it across her desk to him. “This is a medical request to Engineering to have your quarters given a once over with a portable baryon sweep. That should kill every and any bug and should take about fifteen minutes. If they can’t or won’t do it,” she reached over and tapped a button on the padd to progress it along, “show them this. It’s a ‘do it or call me’ where I’ll give them what for.” Another tap of the screen. “Prescription for antihistamines. Enter the code into your personal replicator and it’ll happily make some for you.” Then another tap. “And this is a note from me saying you need to have a regular counseling session at least once every two weeks. I don’t care what you talk about with a counselor, just that you do. They’ll never tell me anything unless a threat to life exists, just that you’ve met your service requirements.”

There was a glimmer of hope at the back of Edward’s thoughts. “Thank you.” He stated graciously and reached down for the PADD. He read it over and nodded. “ With a small shake of his head. “Thank  you.”

“And circling back,” Blake said, “yes there is a chance for redemption, but you’re going to have to work for it. I don’t promise it’ll be easy, but it does exist. Understood?”

“Like it or not Doctor Blake, you have made a friend today.” And he gave a respective nod with a grin. “I will do the work and while there is a chance I will stumble; I will always get back up and try again.”

“It’s the getting back up that’s the important part.” She pulled out another lollipop and threw it gently at the Ensign. “One for the road.”

“I do not wish any reward but to know I have done the right thing.”

― Mark Twain,