Captain Fontana left sick bay and headed straight for the science department.  The basic tenants of command were to know your crew and for them to know you – trust was built in that two-step process.  He was lagging with the quick assignment but was bound and determined to make up for lost time as best as possible.  One of Fontana’s mottos was, ‘Never Give Up, Never Surrender,’ and he intended to live that way until the day he died.  He soon stood outside the science office and tapped the door chime.

There was some comfort in knowing that the Captain was as new as she was, or so Dr. Senja Solberg thought as she endeavoured to familiarise and organise her new department. She had sorted through personnel files, understood who had what specialisation, and had begun to take in any active projects the department was running. As the ship was between missions this wasn’t many, but there was some ongoing research. The Lieutenant made notes on a PADD next to the terminal on her desk of what to read up on to make sure she understood all of the facets of this continuing work. Those relating to Physics needed extra attention, largely because Senja was a geneticist by trade. This gave her a good knowledge of biology and chemistry, but the movements of objects larger than cells, especially of the stellar variety, were more alien to her.

The ship had new orders. From the little Senja had seen so far, it seemed like a diplomatic mission. She had inferred that therefore there wouldn’t be too much for sciences to do. Her head raised from the terminal as the door chime to the office sounded.

“Come,” she said, standing as she saw the new Captain’s form appear in the doorway.

Fontana acknowledged her stance of attention, “As you were, Lieutenant Solberg.  He slid into the chair opposite her desk; “we’re being sent on a diplomatic mission between two warring planets.”  He pulled out his PADD, ”I’ve asked for a detailed report from Starfleet Diplomatic Operations and Intelligence…they’re still working on it.”  He scrolled through what he had received, “There is something that will require your attention.”  He handed over the PADD, “There are some unusual physiological traits that are prevalent in both groups of people.  Not much study has been done on it, and given the ongoing conflicts, we could never send a team.”  He sat back in the chair, “You’re the team.”

Senja took the PADD with a pale hand, being very careful in her movements as not to risk touching bare skin and sat back down. She looked the data over quickly. “I wonder if a shared physiological attribute could help diplomatically…” she suggested, her musing intoned in a soft voice that was all sweetness and gentility. “But then, history tells us shared attributes are overwrought by tribal differences if beings wish to hate each other enough. I shall investigate.” Her black eyes lifted from the PADD to rest on the Captain after a moment’s thought.

“Is there any opportunity for samples of genetic material?”

As a doctor, Fontana understood the question. “That is part of what we’re going to see about negotiating.”  He sat back in the chair. “I’m sorry you were thrown into this command so quickly. We’re going to have to get to know each other as we go. What should I know about you that’ll help us work together better?”

“Hmm…” Senja gave the question a moment’s thought. 

“Well. My name is pronounced Sen-ya, not Sen-ja. The Norwegian origin, as opposed to the Meitei. Scandinavian adaptation of Ksenia or Xenia, ultimately from the ancient Greek meaning ‘hospitable,’” Senja explained, ever the scientist. “More importantly, perhaps for work purposes, I am a touch telepath, stronger than a Vulcan due to part-Betazoid genetics. Therefore, I eschew all physical contact, and I advise others to do the same unless they wish me to know what they did in the mirror naked the night before. An example I offer because it has happened once and usually is memorable enough to illicit an adequate level of vigilance from my peers.” Senja said this with a smile, showing she did express emotion, that bringing her to her next offering.

“Speaking further of makeup, I am half Vulcan, but I do not observe most Vulcan rituals and practices, largely because they are not necessary for me to maintain equilibrium, thanks to the aforementioned Betazoid characteristics, which are more dominant than one might expect from being one-quarter Betazoid, but such is the nature of genetics. That is my field of speciality as I suspect you know. My weak point could be considered to be astrophysics; as such, I have made a point of intensive study since becoming a department head, although a specialist officer would eclipse my ability there. Is that… the kind of information  you wished to know?”

Fontana resisted the urge to smile at or even remark about her Vulcan response.  Instead, he finished making the notes on his PADD, “That is plenty to start with, Lieutenant Solberg.  We’ll be arriving in the system in the next few hours – we’re all going to be working on finding a way to keep the peace between the two sides.”  He stood, “I’ll leave you to your prep work.  I look forward to seeing you in action, Lieutenant.”  He departed back out the way he came.

Senja perked an eyebrow as she watched him leave. Obviously, a busy man, she thought to herself. She hoped to be able to get to know him a little better when time permitted and that she hadn’t waffled on too much. For now, she kept hold of the new PADD he had given her and started to read, her curiosity piqued by the prospect of the genetic research held therein.