“Ensign Alanna Barker reporting for duty, sir.”  The tall and gangly woman stood at attention as Captain Peter Crawford looked over the PADD she had handed him.

“I didn’t…oh, the hell is Fontana up to?”  He finished reading the PADD and tossed it back on his desk, “Are you familiar with Captain Geronimo ‘Maverick’ Fontana, Ensign Barker?”  Pete was annoyed.  He was on the borderline of seething and boiling.

The young ensign blinked a few times, unsure of what she had walked into with this assignment, “I…uh, he contacted me at the Academy before my early graduation.  He said he had need of an…’organizational guru’…those were his words.  I was under the impression that he had…”

“Your impression was wrong, Ensign.”  He tapped his badge, “Captain Dread to the ready room.”  Crawford shook his head in disbelief, “You’ve wandered into the middle of what is known as a ‘Captains Squabble’.  I’m sure there are more colloquial terms to describe it, but here we are.  Captain Fontana has made several notes regarding my reports, operational status updates, and our efficiency ratings across the board.”  He gestured at the PADD that he had lobbed onto the desk, “This, I believe, is his way to address what he surmises is the issue.”

Barker wasn’t sure if she should ask but plunged ahead anyway, “What does he…surmise is the issue, sir?”

Pete pointed at himself, “Me, Ensign Barker.  I’m the problem; it’s me.”  He glanced up as the door to his ready room flew open, “Helena.”  He picked up the PADD and tossed it over the Ensign’s head and into the Executive Officer’s open palms as she stalked to the couch under the gaping windows.  “They think I need a Yeoman.”

Dread sat roughly on the couch and read through the text, glancing up, “Well, you need a Yeoman, Pete.”  She shrugged at his stare of disbelief, “I’ve been telling you for a few weeks we need an additional layer of support between us.  You’re not great at paperwork, and I’m not enjoying making lists of things that need doing.”  She waved at Barker, who numbly waved back, confused as to how she had ended up standing between two Captains who sounded as if they were about to have a verbal fight in front of her.  “What did you think I meant by ‘additional layers of support’?  We only have so many officers we can retask around here.”

Crawford looked to Barker, “I don’t know what I thought you meant…but I don’t think I imagined a Yeoman Barker as the answer.  No offense, Ensign.  Your service jacket has you qualified for such a role beyond measure.”  She nodded silently, her mind spinning at what was next for her.  Were they going to send her back to Starbase 72?  Could they send her back?

Dread tossed the PADD back to Crawford, “Let’s interview her.  If we push back on Fontana, we’ll need evidence that’ll stick and put him back on his heels.”  She sized up Barker, “I get the first question.”  She sat forward on the couch, “The Olympic isn’t some piddling little ship.  It’s a ship with a dedicated science staff, a journal with a sterling reputation, and as perfect a medical team as you’ll find.  What makes you think you can master this ship?”

Alanna swallowed, taking a few breaths.  She needed to answer this well and in her own words.  She needed to be her and not someone else.  Her first year at the academy had been an exercise in futility in trying to put on a mask to hide herself from the world.  Removing her meticulously crafted facade had been full of heartache and regret.  She asserted, “I was awarded several awards for my work in my junior and senior year for assisting the Academy Operations office with planning, scheduling, and evaluating events within the building and outside.  Several events required coordination with several starship crews.  I have several letters of appreciation and recommendation from the captains of those ships.”

Crawford noted on his console, “You’re here to keep my reports straight, my schedule on time, and to improve the efficiency of this ship and crew.  What makes you think you stand up to me or Captain Dread?”

Barker narrowed her eyes as she replied, “Sir, you can ask anyone in my classes, from students to professors.  I don’t mess around.  When I’m on the job, I don’t let anything get in my way – officer, crewman, or whoever.  I know the responsibilities of a Yeoman.  When I’m on the job, I’m fully committed.  I don’t scare easily, Captains.  I’m an Odyssey class in a shuttle shop.  If you don’t want me, that’s fine.  Plenty of captains would fight to have me at their side, sir.”  She remained at attention and kept her eyes on Crawford.

Pete scoffed, “Well, damn.”  He glanced at Dread, who had a sly smile on her face.

“I like her, Pete.  She’s likely to piss you off and push you around, which I might enjoy a little too much.  God knows I’ve tried…but sickbay and my XO duties keep me busy.  We need her, Pete.”  She stood and stalked out of the Ready Room.

Alanna remained focused on Crawford, “When will you make you decision, sir?”

Pete chuckled and stood, “Ensign Barker, we’ll have to work on getting to know each other.  Don’t tell Captain Fontana this, but I think you’re just what we need onboard the Oly.  I promise I won’t try to scare you long as you don’t literally push me around.  You can do it metaphorically all day long.”  He extended his hand, “Welcome aboard the USS Olympic, Ensign Barker.”

A broad smile erupted across her lips but she quickly squashed it, returning to the thin line she’d practiced.  Barker grasped his hand firmly, “Thank you, Captain Crawford.  When do I start?”

He gestured to the piles of PADDs on his desk, “Right now, Ensign.  Let’s start with Security.”

The office walls were blank, and the desk seemed lonely from its position against the wall.  Jordan stood on the threshold, her fresh teal uniform with rank pips simultaneously making her feel at home and out of place.  Boxes of her office items were stacked just inside the doorway, marked with her old rank and title from the Mack.  Her name and title were set on the wall.

“Lieutenant Reid.”  The voice of her commanding officer broke her concentration, and she turned to shake hands with Captain Helena Dread.  “Thanks for accepting the offer.”  She leaned over and looked inside, “How long you been standing here, Doctor?”

Reid hesitated, “I…it’s weird being back in Starfleet, Captain.  It’s only been two months.”  She accepted the long look, “I am choosing to come back, I know.”  She sighed, “I didn’t want to return to the Mack, anyway.  Lots of memories there.”

Dread understood.  She’d had her share of places with emotional memories in her career.  “One day at a time, Jordan.  Take your time.”  Helena left, and Reid turned her attention to her office. She needed to get the room and start making it her own.

Jordan met with the Surgery and Critical Care team a few hours later.  They’d worked out duty roster shifts, groups, and operational processes.  There had been some directives from the previous Deputy Chief that needed refreshing.  She’d spent most of the afternoon working through drills with the team.  Then the inventory process.  The chrono on her desk read 2000 hours, and she stretched her back, groaning at the tiredness creeping into her muscles.  The door chime rang, and she glanced up.  She was surprised to see the Chief Engineer standing at the door.  She waved her in, “Greer…didn’t expect to see you so soon.  The medical exam isn’t for another week or so.”

Lieutenant Moore shrugged and held up the twin food containers, “I cooked too much for dinner and figured you’d still be up.  Spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread.”  She spread the containers out on the desk, and Reid smiled appreciatively.

“Mom used to make this every Friday night,” Reid reminisced, “It was an old family tradition to bring everyone together.”  She took a swirl of noodles and sauce, savoring the rich flavor, “You know how to cook, Greer!”  They ate and drank together until the plates were washed clean, and they sat on the couch against the wall.  Jordan held a cup of Synthol wine while Greer cradled a beer.  She wondered aloud, “Was this the right decision?”  She absentmindedly looked at the window by her desk.

Greer sipped at her bottle as she answered, “You told me you were starting to lose your mind on Earth.  Something about needing to be in the ‘great wide open’ is how you phrased it”.  She took another pull from her beer, “I think you’ve made the right call, even if it feels like the wrong decision.  After what happened with the Devore and me…man, I wanted to run as far from space as I could.”

Reid understood.  The Devore had beaten and broken her when they came aboard the Mackenzie.  They’d used her to get onto the battle bridge and nearly steal the saucer section.  She asked, “Why didn’t you?”

Moore drained her glass of wine.  “I felt like I couldn’t let them win.  I felt like it was the coward’s way out to run away.”  She said, “I’ve had a lot of time to think about it…and probably should have taken some time off.  I wouldn’t have made it more than a few months before I found my way back here.”  A thin smile crossed her face, “I think we’ve both been on a journey of grief, Jord.”

Reid nodded and leaned into her friend, “That journey is far from over.  I’m glad I’ve got you and the rest of our group.  I don’t want to do this alone.”

Greer accepted her friend and held her gently, “I don’t want to do it alone either.”

They had been underway for a few days, and Sadie sat at her console, attempting to solve a puzzle.  It started yesterday with a flicker of a reading several systems over.  She was extending and directing the Olympic’s sensors to understand better what was out there.  They were currently working on a mapping project with the USS Mackenzie.  Suddenly the signal cleared.  She quickly tapped the console to record the data.  “Atega?” She turned in her chair to face the Communications Chief, “I’ve got something.”

Presley walked over to her station and studied the screen, “That’s…a hybrid signal.  You’ve got data and communications tied together.”  She sat down at the station beside Fowler, “You take the data; I’ll take the other.”  They worked as the signal ebbed and flowed.  Atega had to boost the signal and run it through nearly all the available filters.  The call had traveled so far and been through so much space it was lucky they’d picked it up all. 

It took them twenty minutes before Fowler sat back in her chair, “This is a request for asylum.  For every possible government in the universe.  There are some names on this that I don’t recognize.  You?”

Presley was shocked, “It’s a distress call…in every language possible…with some that the computer has classified for additional research.”  She turned to Fowler, “We need to report this.”  She tapped her badge, “Bridge to Captain Crawford.”

Peter sat in the center chair, Captain Wren on his screen as he explained, “The message is pretty garbled, but we could make out a desperate call for help.  It would take us an hour and a half to intercept.”

She was examining the data on her PADD on the bridge of the Mackenzie, “We’re taking a run at the data now.  We don’t know the signal’s origin?”

Crawford replied, “That’s part of the mystery, Wren.  Usually, we can detect what government or fleet would have composed the message…but this one isn’t showing up with anyone in our database.  I’m recommending we move to intercept.”

Walton was quietly thankful for the interruption to their mapping project.  The repetition was getting to some of the crew as they scanned system by system.  This afforded them something to break the monotony.  “Recommendation accepted.  Helm, plot an intercept course.  I’ll advise Starfleet of our mission deviation.”  

The channel closed, and Pete smiled in relief, “Helm, get us on our way.  Atega and Fowler – work with their new chief of science and see what you can find out.”