Nathan Hawkthorne’s Captain‘s Log: With our successful completion of the humanitarian efforts on Artagus IV Starfleet has again tasked us with cleanup, this time in an active zone of contention. Orion pirates have attacked a Federation colony and with the protection of the Galaxy class ship San Paulo we are to continue clean up efforts along with transporting a team of Starfleet Civil Engineers and doctors to ensure the colony’s reconstruction. While Starfleet doesn’t foresee us engaging in any combat this is a step up in responsibility for the ship, a sign that maybe this time this crew is doing something noticeable.

Since this is our second outing I will not be moving staff around at this time. I am however giving the crew two days on Starbase 72 to stretch their legs and enjoy themselves. In all likelihood this mission will be emotionally taxing as we deal with the aftermath of a deadly attack that’s already killed hundreds.

[USS Anaheim – Captain’s Ready Room]

On screen the from his pool the dolphin Chief Navigation Officer was finishing a series of clicks. The rest of the senior staff had to wait for the translation and then the Captain nodded, “If you can determine where the pirates are coming from do so. However that’s not our mission. Thank you.”

Disappointed Scchhttt’aaakkk accepted the news, and dove back under the water which Hawkthorne took as an excuse to move forward in his talk. The ready room was not suited to a full senior staff but he had wanted this to be quick so they had squished in, save for Lieutenant Scchhttt’aaakkk who he no longer made come up on bridge after the first time.

”Doctor Mueller and Lieutenant Commander Tashai will be in charge of this mission and their respective departments. They’ll also be liaisoning with Starfleet Medical and Civil Engineering with the teams we’ll be dropping off. Speaking of which Mister James, you’ll need an Assistant Chief by the time we get there. Send me a list of candidates,” Hawthorne said.

”Yes sir,” the bearded Chief Engineer said.

“The good news being that we’ll have forty-eight hours docked at Starbase 72 for loading things on. Other than the active duty officers I do encourage you and your teams to make use of the Starbase while we’re there,” Hawthorne said, adding, “Based on what the initial reports from the San Paulo have been it’s not pretty on the ground and this will be a taxing mission for us. Enjoy your downtime while you can. Any questions?”

There where none, and so the crew was dispersed back to their duties, as the California class ship headed towards Starbase. 

[Starbase 72 – Classics Theater]

“Okay I get why they’re fast but they didn’t seem particularly furious,” Lieutenant Junior Grade Yuhiro Kolem said. As Chief Councilor she had not much actual constructive work to do thus far, but she knew that given the scale of the destruction they would be facing on their next assignment there were some hard and sad conversations ahead. That was why the offer of two days of Starbase recreation had jumped out at her, the better headspace she was in the better she could do her job.

Hume laughed throwing the last tiny bits of popcorn in the nearest trash replicator which would disintegrate it to reuse in something else, like pants. He looked at the dark eyed half Bajoran, “I guess you have a point.”

Still in his duty uniform Hume blended in with the crew of the station, despite being from the Anaheim. Kolem wore a casual outfit, that included a branded t-shirt from the Anaheim with the ship’s name on the front and the Starfleet insignia on the sleeves. She had the feeling that together they vaguely looked like a cop arresting a civilian for rowdy behavior. 

”They have an arboretum, let’s go,” she said.

Hume had his misgiving so she sweetened the deal, “We could lay on the grass. Besides there’s no plant life aboard the Anaheim, none of us even have personal plants.”

”There’s a hydroponic bay,” Hume said.

”Arboretum, or I pull rank,” she said.

“Arboretum it is sir,” Hume said with a mock salute.

Kolem took his hand, “Shut up Ensign.”

Kolem had been born on Mars so she was used to the kinds of varieties of plants that tended to get prioritized in an unnatural environment. Still it seemed that Starbase 72 had taken a few chances that had paid off and there were Earth and Trill plants and trees that she’d only seen in pictures. The gardening crew onboard the station must have worked diligently with little hope of success at first.

She found a suitable patch of grass and lay down looking up at the trees, and beyond them the enclosure keeping it all from the vacuum of space. That, this, she supposed was a metaphor for the human (and Bajoran) experience. Working hard with little chance of success and still somehow making a life here in the void of space. Colonization was one thing, take a planet with a bunch of materials similar to what you have back home and use it, but what they did on Starbases and ships, building entire lives on artificial gravity and growing plants in the void? That was hard.

Turning on her side she gazed at William Hume who had laid beside her, but clearly could see that she was lost in thought so had rightly chosen to be quiet. She studied his face for a moment then asked, “Are you my boyfriend?”

”Am I?” he asked, not expecting this topic.

”I’m not seeing anyone else,” she said, “nor am I wanting to. How about you? Cute Ensign in security, the Bajoran?”

”No, nobody else. She’s got a girlfriend anyway she wants to marry back on Bajor,” he said.

“Can we keep it that was, for now. Us not seeing anyone, but not putting a big title on this,” Kolem said.

Hume thought about it, “Okay, but I don’t mind the title.”

She touched his nose and made a ‘boop’ sound, “I know, but it’s just quick and I want this mission to be done with before making any life choices.”

”It’s not marriage you know,“ Hume pointed out.

Kolem sat up, “What it’s not marriage but on Betazed.”

Hume laughed, “Shut up and kiss me, you’re from Mars.”

Kolem claimed atop him and kissed him. Overhead the trees rustled as a simulated wind was blown through the arboretum. 

[USS Anaheim – Main Engineering]

”Alright people were docked. Let’s do this like engineers, bring me something you’re working on today and I’ll put forward my top choices to the captain to be the Assistant Chief Engineering Officer,” had been the rather bold and unorthodox decree from Lieutenant James Young, the bearded Chief Engineer. He had imagined doing this as a pure engineering test, and that one of his fellow Lieutenants would step up with something amazing. The truth was everyone had handed in good work but by far the best was from an enlisted member of the team, a Chief Petty Officer Vanessa Constable.

He sat in his office examining the device. It was clearly homemade, cobbled together from scraps and bits left over from the overhaul of the warp engines during their recent refit. But despite that it was beautiful, and it worked providing a portable and much smaller replicator than Starfleet made themselves, though so far it only could make coffee. He glanced at the woman who’d made it, the trouble was he knew the Captain was not going to be happy with a Petty Officer as second in charge of a section, yet he had made a promise.

“Look, I’m going to recommend you but the final decision is the Captain’s,” he said, ”but this is amazing. You should be proud regardless. Could you, maybe, take the officers exam?”

”Be an Ensign?” Constable made a face indicating that this was not a great plan in her mind. Ensigns were basically babies needing their hands held and diapers changed in her mind. She worked for a living, she was a gosh darn great engineer no matter what rank she had.

”Ensign Hume is Assistant Chief Security Officer,” Young pointed out, “It wouldn’t be long. A year maybe, then we’d bump you up to Lieutenant Junior Grade.”

That barely sounded better to Constable. She’d spent her whole life fixing things, building things. She was not a baby, and not going to pretend that she was some trainee just because her Captain had a thing about having officers in charge of departments. She had done good work, both in her current job and in her other deployments. She’s risen quickly because her superiors had seen that she was the best.

Yet rank had privileges, and on a California ship it included a private room. Not for an ensign maybe, but eventually, and that was something that she cared more about than a pip on her collar. Finally she nodded, “Okay I’ll take the Officer’s Exam, but it’ll be a bit I need to study. I want the promotion now and I want my own room.”

Lieutenant Young sat back, “That’s a lot of demands, okay. Look I’ll do what I can, though I can’t promise anything. You may have to meet with the Captain, but I’m sure that’s a formality. It’s more the Chief Petty Officer of it all, though he may like that, who knows?”

Constable took that in stride, and nodded, “Fair enough, thank you sir.”

[USS Anaheim – Ready Room]

The Captain peered at the Chief Petty Officer’s file again, “And you’re sure?”

”We haven’t had a disaster or anything, but her work is the best in the department and she’s capable. She says she’ll study for the Officer’s Exam,” he said, adding that last part in quickly to ensure it was covered off. The Captain nodded, obviously infavor of that point. An Ensign was a lot more acceptable running a department than a Petty Officer. Plus elevating someone was a feather in his cap, if she worked out he could take credit and if she didn’t well then it was Young’s poor decision to put her forward.

”Happy birthday Mister Young, don’t expect a present this year I’ll give you this,” he said making a note on the PADD and tossing it back across the desk to the Lieutenant. 

“Thank you sir,” Young said nodding.

”You should be enjoying the station now, go relax,” Hawthorne said, “I’m meeting with the Commodore today, but I want you all to have fun before this next mission begins.”

James nodded, rising and heading back to give the Chief Petty Officer the good news.

[USS Anaheim – Shuttle Bay 1]

Pr’Nor wanted a faster shuttle. The Anaheim was a workhorse, no doubt, and had a large number of capable shuttles for… well shuttling things to and from the ground. Yet the Vulcan had a very un-Vulcan like desire for something fast and flashy, exciting. She understood this was a desire born from being a pilot and wanting to prove herself. She also understood that it was illogical and beyond the scope of the Anaheim’s mission parameters. This was why she never vocalized such a desire, it would not do to start the humans on thinking that she had desires for a physical object in the way that they often did. Least of all when it was unattainable. 

Various Operations officers were hard at work, packing in supplies and the equipment that Starfleet’s Civil Engineering team would use on the planet. It seemed like boring, grueling work, which was a reason she was glad to be a pilot and glad to have risen in rank above grunt force manual labor. 

Tomorrow she would steer the Anaheim out on its next mission. A human might feel a tinge of pride, but Pr‘Nor simply felt the truth of this fact. Perhaps pride, though she would have not described it as such. Satisfaction maybe. A result of a good career, and being a great pilot and flight control officer. This was not Starfleet’s fanciest ship, newest, or most notable but it was hers or rather her charge. Tomorrow every life onboard would once more be in her hands, and it was hard not to feel something about that. Feel the size and the weight of it.

[USS Anaheim – Medical Lab]

Va’Tok handed the hypnospray to Doctor Mueller who set it in the drawer. The pair worked quietly and efficiently to each of their satisfaction. Both were Doctors and neither were particularly talkative, only communicating when something need to be said. Despite having her reservations about their Captain, Doctor Mueller liked the medical team that she found herself in charge of even the taciturn Vulcan Lieutenant who she had selected as her Assistant Chief Medical Officer. 

Deciding to try to bond with him, at least a little, on a personal level Mueller asked, “Tell my Doctor, do you have any unusual hobbies?”

The Vulcan cocked his head and thought for a moment, “I do not quite know how to quantify the word ‘unusual‘ in this context. To you my playing of a Vulcan lute may prove to be unusual but I have done so for many decades now and so it would be normalized to me.”

”So lute, got it. I’m just trying to make conversation,” she said.

”I see. Do you have unusual hobbies Doctor?” he asked in return.

”I used to collect butterflies,” Mueller said, “but I left my collection at home.”

”Surely the lifespan of Earth butterflies would have passed while you were in space,” Va’Tok pointed out puzzled.

”They were already dead,” Mueller said.

”Ah. I see, was killing them part of the satisfaction of owning them?” he asked.

Mueller sighed, and shook her head.

Nathan Hawkthorne’s Captain’s Log: We depart Starbase 72 in the morning and the crew is just putting the final touches on the Starfleet Civil Engineers quarters, and the various other NGO (non-governmental agencies) groups that will be joining us. I have been reviewing the logs of the USS Sao Paulo which is proving sector defense and was the first starship on site. The devastation to Hahana III is extensive but I trust that the Anaheim and it’s teams can help in this situation. 

After their first mission to Artagus IV, it is good to see the crew coming together and bonding. This next mission could be quite tough for all of us.

[USS Anaheim - Chief Councillor’s Office]

Yuhiro Kolem shifted uncomfortably in her chair. An hour long session that was running over by at least twenty minutes, this was getting excruciating. Of course as his therapist she could hardly tell him that his relationship with his mother was not as interesting as he thought it was. The poor Ensign across from her would likely burst into tears. At least when therapists charged for this there was a profit reason to keep a session going.

”Perhaps, seeing as we’re well past our hour, we can take this up later?” Kolem said softly, raising a hand to cut him off. 

The Ensign nodded, “Okay I was just getting somewhere though.”

”And we’ll get there next week,” Kolem insisted, “you’ve been very open this week and I appreciate that. But I have duties as well as I’m sure you do before we depart.”

Nodding the Ensign got up out of the patient’s chair as Kolem rose from her own. She shook his hand, realizing that he would have rather gone in for a hug, and ushered him out of her office. Once alone she signed heavily, closed her eyes and pinched her nose. Empathy, the kind that she had, could be tricky around emotions like that that were heightened and also so very undirected. Messy… She needed a drink.

Tapping her communicator she hailed Chief Operations Officer Tashai, who turned out to be busy, but always seemed to be able to make time for a drink. This Kolem realized was mostly done by not particularly caring about her job because in her mind as someone so old Starfleet was just a phase she was going through. Likely, and unlike everyone else on board, Tashai felt that she was going to outlive Starfleet. 

“Lieutenant, I have to go over some crew forms with you,” Kolem said.

”Is that code?” Tashai asked across the line.

”Maybe at Starbase 72, over a beverage,” Kolem persisted.

”Not a great code, but okay. Give me an hour, I’ll meet you at the docking bay,” Tashai said and then closed the channel.

Adjusting her uniform, Kolem stretched. Examining herself in the mirror she wondered, and not for the first time thanks to her Captain continually referring to her as ‘my Troi’ what she would look like in one of her fellow half-Betazoid’s uniforms from back in the day. How had Troi actually seen patients in a low cut skintight outfit? She sighed, when you got to the Enterprise you were the best of the best, and pretty much able to do what you wanted.

For now at least there was a lot that Lieutenant Junior Grade Kolem would like to do but wasn’t allowed to. Still she was a senior officer on the ship, and had some lee-way, particularly since she Captain seemed to favor her if only because of that tenuous connection to the famed bridge crew of the Enterprise. Not that she knew Troi or was related to her in any way, just be being the same flavor of species. Still she’d take what she got, as long as she didn’t have to dress like Troi.

[USS Anaheim - Engineering]

The elevation of a Chief Petty Officer to Assistant Chief of Engineering had not gone over well on the ship. Vanessa Constable was new and had not built up a level of affection that non-commissioned officers could have, still there was not question she was talented, at least in Chief Engineer James Young’s eyes. The offer of her own room had been put on hold since the Anaheim was taking on a vast number of people to transport to their next destination, but the rest had been agreed to. 

Though the ship had been in perfect condition when he’d assumed the role of Chief Engineer the Lieutenant was happy to say it was perhaps even running better now, thanks to his team. Granted such improvements were minimal at best, but he’d take what he could get and pass it onto the eager Captain who wanted to hear great things about the crew in his command.

“Everything with the warp manifold checks out,” Constable said. She thought the whole double and triple checking was not required, but she knew better than to rock the boat at this point. Everything worked, and would continue working until such a time that it didn’t. Starfleet had not done a refit on the ship and left it in shambles.

”Great, thank you,” Young said tapping his PADD to note that, “Why don’t you take a break, see Starbase 72 a bit before we leave?”

”A break wow. The advantages of power,” Constable said.

”I’m not sure if you’re kidding of serious, just take a break, have fun,” Young insisted.

Though this vaguely felt like some kind of trap, allowing her to go only to later yell at her for not being in Engineering, Constable decided to take it. She nodded and with a wave headed out of the room first to her room then to the docking bay.

[Starbase 72 - Commodore Jalian’s Office]

Captain Nathan Hawthorne smiled. He hated small talk, which was what the Commodore seemed to like. Still he knew that being a good boy for higher ranking officers was how one got to be higher ranking, got the choice assignments, and newer more useful ships. Again assuring the Commodore that they could handle acting like a ferry boat for Starfleet’s Civil Engineers he enjoyed the view of his own ship being loaded up with supplies. 

“Pretty isn’t it?” Commodore Jalian said.

“I suppose, certainly stands out,” the Captain acknowledged noting the distinctive white and blue paint job that indicated it was one of the medical variations of the California class. 

Jalian seemed to understand his hesitation, “She’s been yours a long time. Keep it up, Starfleet Command notices when someone needs to spread their wings.”

”Do they?” asked Hawthorne, who realizing he may have said too much in front of the senior officer nodded, “Of course. Good advice.”

Commodore Jalian smiled, either ignoring the slip or missing it. Captain Hawkthorne was never sure which it was.

[Starbase 72 - Drafts Pub]

Lieutenant Junior Grade Yuhiro Kolem had no memory of meeting Chief Petty Officer Vanessa Constable before today but was sure their paths must have crossed on the small ship. Now she was two beers down with the woman, enjoying her company as the three women enjoyed their last few night at Drafts an old American themed bar on the Starbase. Joining them was Lieutenant Commander Tashai, who insisted that she had been to this very bar on Earth back in the day.

”It’s not an actual Earth bar,” Constable insisted, “It’s just an amalgamation of the concept of bars of the period.”

”No, I was there! I met this very cute Olympic diver,” Tashai insisted.

”You just make this stuff up I bet,” Kolem said, having distrusted the veracity of a number of Tashai’s stories since they had met. Anything that began with ‘a long time go’ tended to be closer to fiction than anything else.

“So what do us upper deckers do?” Constable asked.

”That’s hilarious that you think we’re important. I just do my job, and whatever the Captain tells me to,” Kolem said, “I have no actual power.”

”I do what I want,” shrugged Tashai.

Constable laughed, “There’s a ship full of people that you’re more powerful then. I’ve finally gotten some influence, I intend to learn how to use it, make real meaningful changes.“

”Fight the patriarchy. But seriously what are you going to do? It’s not like there’s a lot of ways to fiddle with the warp drive,” Kolem asked.

”You’ll see,” Constable promised, half not knowing if she was promising more than she could deliver and half certain that she was going to prove them all wrong. This posting, and this new role were the start of something big, she could feel it.

The other two raised their mugs and saluted. Whether she was telling the truth about changing the department or not, it was nice to be there off the ship and away from work for a few hours before they submerged again like a modern day submarine crew.

”To us, no. To the Anaheim,” Kolem said, ”as Engsign Hume might say ‘the happiest place on Earth’.”

”What a hot dork,” Tashai grinned and winked at Kolem knowingly.

[USS Anaheim Bridge]

Captain Nathan Hawthorne remembered being an ensign aboard the USS Constantine, and the sense of excitement that he felt when first first ship pulled out of space dock to open space. Today did not quite capture the same sense of pride and wonder. The USS Anaheim had been at Starbase 72 twice in the last month and they were off to yet another disaster area. Still there was a sense of possibility, anytime he left for open space. Anything could happen, even if it never did. Over the years he’d seen various officers screw up leaving space dock, such as forgetting an important part of the startup sequence that left the ship unmoving temporarily. Yet his Chief Flight Control Officer Lieutenant Junior Grade Pr’Nor did not make any such error. Navigating the ship perfectly she maneuvered it beyond a heavily armed escort ship, and into the vast openness of space.

”We are free from Starbase 72,” she reported, her voice as efficient as her movements.

”Set a course for Hahana III. Take us there at warp six,” he ordered. Taking his seat from where he had paced to Hawthorne set his hands on the chair’s arm rests and said, “Engage.”

The ship leaped into warp, a move that nobody onboard could feel though the visuals were impressive. Hawthorne turned and nodded to his Chief Counsellor who he had insisted spend more time on the bridge as part of his senior staff. 

”We’re underway,” he said, perhaps stating the obvious.

”Yes we are,” Lieutenant Junior Grade Yuhiro Kolem said seriously, not quite sure what else to say. 

“This is symbolic, it’s important to people. Part of your job is to be seen, as much as it is to manage the crew’s feelings,” Hawthorne said, not entirely wrong.

Kolem nodded, “Of course sir. However I have patients to attend to, can I be excused now?”

”By all means,“ Hawthorne said rising, “I have paperwork. We’ll have a senior staff review at 17:00 to review the latest reports and meet our new friends journeying with us.”

Kolem tugged at her tunic, trying to look serious and grownup as she headed for the turbo lift and to her office. 

[USS Anaheim Briefing Room]

An older balding man was explaining what the Starfleet Civil Engineers were going to do. It was interesting from a technical point of view which meant that only Lieutenant James Young the Chief Engineer really appreciated it and not all that much given that it was not about warp engines or anything but rather damns and other vital but boring things. Still the senior staff was all uniformly polite and did their best to pay attention, though perhaps only Chief Flight Control Officer Pr’Nor did. When he was done a woman from the volunteer organization that was taking the lead on handing out disaster relief kits did a simple presentation.

To Captain Hawthorne she seemed like one of those hippies that you could still find in certain parts of New York City. The kind whose heart bleed for everyone, though they never really had any answers to the ills of the world. It was people like that who protested Starfleet for being too military focused, as if the Borg were interested in Berkeinstocks and kale cupcakes.

When she was done he took over the meeting, “Our role will be offering support, transport, and establishing some primary defenses around the colony to help prevent this from happening again. Mister Young your team will install primary canons at points, offering surface of air protection. We have the kits in the storage bay. Lieutenant Tashai’s team can offer support. The Operations team will also take point in installing three planet wide replicators for creating blankets, food, and a steady water supply while the engineering teams work to get things re-established on the ground. Basically shelter and food for everyone who needs it.”

He paused as the computer chimed with an incoming hail, it was the São Paulo’s captain, Hawkthorne answered to reveal a younger man on the screen, “Greetings Captain. Captain Reynolds here, you wished me to call?”

”Yes, we’re just doing our senior staff briefing, can you let us know what the São Paulo will be doing?” Hawkthorne asked. The other captain briefly looked like he thought this was a waste of his time but then nodded deciding to go along with it.

”We will be taking up a sector defense position. Our people are pulling out now, to let yours in. Basically if anyone comes to cause trouble we’ll chase them off,” he explained.

Hawkthorne nodded, “Thank you Captain, good luck to your team. I’ll be in touch.”

Reynolds looked like that was probably not needed but he nodded and said good-bye before ending the transmission. Hawkthorne, happy to be working with a Galaxy Class even if it was not under his command, wrapped up the briefing, ensuring everyone understood their part and in general (at least) what the other teams were doing. It was a comprehensive, and the crew had to admit, useful overview of what lay ahead for them down on the planet.

Finally the Captain gestured to his Chief Counsellor, “If any member of your teams need assistance dealing with what we’re facing down there please see Miss Kolem and her team who’ll be on hand. Now dismissed.”

[USS Anaheim – Chief Counsellor’s Quarters]

Ensign William Hume wrapped his right arm around the counsellor and pressed his face against the fabric of her undershirt. At least one of them had a private room, and did not sleep in a bunk in the hallway a rather unique factor of life on a California Class Starship. From his position on her bed where they’ve been snuggling he looked up at Yuhiro Kolem’s face, wondering just what she was thinking. Knowing that when she felt like bringing in his opinion she’s ask for his advice, he did not ask for now.

Many people aboard the new crew had coupled off. It was a factor of these deep space assignments. Until distances away from anything and anyone from your old life and without the luxury of onboard families people found each other. The crew was mainly all young, and on an early assignment in life, and had not grown that used to the constant tumult of having to be reassigned and leaving behind all that you cared about on Starfleet’s say so. Maybe they, and all the couples that were forming, were making a mistake but one had to find peace and happiness where one could. Cynically there was ’the only safe port in the storm’ but Hume tried to look at this different. Maybe nothing lasted forever, but they had today and the happiness or contentment that they could find now.

Kolem ran her fingers through his hair sitting up a bit on the bed. She had no more clue what tomorrow would bring, just a dreadful feeling that it was going to get hard from here on out. Hume was easy, demanded little of her. She would hold onto that while he could.

”You staying over?” she asked, knowing that he did not want to return to his bunk.

”You letting me stay?” Hume answered giving her a puppy dog face at the thought of being kicked out into the hallway.

”Just don’t snore,” Kolem answered, laying back down.