Michael sat at the head of the briefing room table, his gaze fixed on a readiness readout of the USS Fresno that was pulled up on a PADD on the table before him.  He casually poked a finger along its screen every so often to scroll down as he moved on to more details.  His mind wasn’t even on the report.  His mind was on what was about to come in the next few moments.

Behind him, a large blank screen nearly spanned the length of the narrow wall it was embedded in.  It was meant to display highlights of discussion and be visible, while the attention of the room could simultaneously be kept on whomever was seated at the table’s head conducting the meeting.  There was a doorway positioned to either side of the display.  To Michael’s left, the entire bulkhead was lined with viewports.  Starbase 72 was visible in the distance, with ships of every size and class bustling to and fro in order to attend to their business with the station.  A few other Starfleet vessels hung closer to where the Fresno currently sat, just floating stationary in the area.  This was a designated area for ships who had departed the station but were not yet leaving the system.  The Fresno had long since finished her exchange of equipment and personell, and no longer had the need to take up space berthed in the large dome bay of Starbase 72.  She hung in space with the other ships that were staged outside while Michael’s crew was taking care of last minute adjustments with all the newly installed gear.

To his right, Thalissa and T’Lan were seated.  The Vulcan doctor sat with a neutral expression, her hands calmly folded on the table.  Thalissa sat with seemingly equal stoicism, though a keen eye might notice her twitching antennae betrayed a restless habit.  Her eyes kept flicking to the time displayed on the PADD in front of her.  On the wall behind them were rows of shelves that displayed trinkets, baubles, photographs, and even a few commendations.  Each unique item represented an aspect of some of the Fresno’s past missions.  While they held no bearing to Michael’s command, he had not been able to bring himself to take them down.  Not when there were still a significant part of this crew who had served under the previous Captain and First Officer.  This was their ship as much as it was his, and there would be ample enough opportunity for contributions represented under his command in time.

Michael regarded both his XO and Chief Medical Officer with a firm-lipped expression.  He wasn’t looking forward to the conversation that was about to take place.  But it was a fact that he didn’t feel at liberty to confide to the both of them.  The meeting that had taken place when he had received the news he’d be granted his own command still rang in his thoughts.  His command style as First Officer aboard the Adroit had been heavily critiqued.  He’d gained that particular promotion of rank through valorous actions, but he was far from the stern disciplinarian type.  For the second time in as many days, the critical words during the discussion that had led to his ascension as Fresno’s Captain played out in his mind’s eye.  “If we do consider you for this position, then it will be with the understanding that you’re no longer just one of the guys down in Engineering.”  Screw em’, he found himself thinking.  This is my ship, I’ll run it as I see fit unless they take it away.  He disagreed with the common belief among Captains that they needed to distance themselves from their crew.  Michael’s eyes lingered over his Andorian First Officer.  A steely, if inquisitive gaze met his own.  She definitely had a handle on integrating that aspect of command style, given her roots in her career.  He tried to draw what inspiration he could from it.  Perhaps she, in turn, would come to draw the same from him on some occasions.  He considered the ironic duality of their positions.  The funny thing was that the advice they had turned around and given her was the precise opposite he’d been given.  An XO needed to be approachable, to be the go between when it came to crew and Captain.  Michael and Thalissa were meant to learn from one another.  He suspected the top brass had shared with him what they had critiqued of his First Officer so that Michael would not harbor any resentment over the admonition he had been given, himself.  And Michael had to admit, that the role of disciplinarian was also a part of his job.  That was never in dispute.  He just also felt that his own style was never specifically in error.  There was simply a balance that needed to be struck, perhaps refined.

One of the entrances to the briefing room hissed open, interrupting any further thoughts Michael had on this topic.  Ensign Revek was the first to come strolling in.  The young Denobulan seemed to take it in casual stride that much of the ship’s senior staff were not yet in attendance.  Dren Lor, his Science Officer, seemed a little more wise to the fact that only Michael, Commander Thalissa, and Doctor T’Lan were there to greet the two of them.  He regarded the three with a cautious look.  As his gaze fell last on T’Lan, an understanding seemed to only darken his expression.

Michael was the first to speak.  “Ensign Revek, Lieutenant Commander Lor.  Good of you to come.”  The Captain tried to strike a balance between sounding solemn but stern.  He gestured to the chairs across the table from Thalissa and T’Lan.  “Please, be seated.”

“Are we early, Captain?” Revek was asking as they both took the proffered chairs.  The young Denobulan Communications Officer still had not quite connected the same dots that his companion had.

“No,” Michael admitted, “you’re right on time.  The truth of the matter is that I asked you both to be here just a little earlier than the rest of the Command Staff.”  Michael could see the tone he was setting was beginning to instill comprehension in the young Ensign.  Dren Lor seemed to hold his head just a little higher.  Whether that was an act of defiance, or whether the seasoned-seeming Trill was grimly accepting what was to come, Michael could not decide.  He pressed on.  “How did your medical screenings go?”

“Fine, as far as I know, sir…” Revek was self consciously trailing off.

“Perhaps one of you would care to explain why your mandatory medical screenings were delayed until this morning?” Michael asked bluntly, getting straight to the point at hand.  Revek suddenly looked like a puppy dog Michael had kicked.  Dren Lor’s expression shifted to one of betrayal, his accusatory stare landing squarely on Doctor T’Lan. Before the Trill Science Officer could speak, Michael raised a hand, stopping him. “Doctor T’Lan did not report you with the intent of calling out your actions.” T’Lan inclined her head slightly, acknowledging the clarification appreciatively. “However, she did submit her routine report, and as we all know, Vulcans are unerringly honest and thorough in their documentation.”

“I’m sorry, Captain!” Revek began, but his apology was cut off by Dren Lor.

“It was my fault alone, Captain.”  Dren explained, his voice smooth.  “I invited the Ensign for a drink, and time… got away from us.”

Michael’s respect for the seemingly carefree senior officer went up a notch at this attempt to protect the less experienced Ensign and take all of the heat.  He worked at keeping the sentiment hidden behind his stern expression.  Perhaps his First Officer recognized this unspoken faltering of Michael’s, because Commander Zheen’s voice cut in like a cold wind as she chose this moment to finally chime in.  “Lieutenant Commander Lor, you’re an experienced officer. You’ve been in Starfleet long enough to know better than to skip protocol on your first day. And Ensign, you may be fresh out of the Academy, but ignorance of the regulations is not an excuse.”

Revek’s mouth opened, words fumbling to escape. “Yes, Commander, I’m sorry…” he was beginning to apologize again before being cut off.

“I believe we are aware of how sorry you are by now, thank you Ensign!” Thalissa barked, her sharp tone emphasizing her displeasure.

Michael gave his First Officer an appreciative nod and then leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “Lieutenant Commander, this is not how we begin assignments on this ship. And I don’t need to remind you that as a senior officer, you are expected to set an example.” He glanced at Revek. “Ensign, this is a mistake you will not repeat. Understood?”

Revek nodded quickly, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Yes, Captain. Understood.”

“Lieutenant Commander?” Michael’s gaze shifted back to Dren.

Dren gave a slight but genuinely apologetic shrug. “Understood, Captain.”

Michael nodded, finally allowing his expression to soften.  “Good.  And look, I get it.  The both of you were given until today to get settled in.  But before you two had chosen to get too settled in, this was the one thing you were expected to get done first.  Neglecting that interfered with Doctor T’Lan’s job.  This was only a minor interference, which is why beyond having this discussion I am willing to consider the matter put behind us.  But I need everyone to be on their best game.  Be considerate of how your decisions may affect the performance of your crewmates.  Especially since it seems the powers that be want to throw us into the fire just a little faster than any of us were expecting.”

Dren Lor’s eyes narrowed at what the Captain was implying.  “Sir?”

Michael reached for a small alcove under his position at the briefing table.  He withdrew two PADDs, taking a moment to tap through a few buttons on his own as he transferred data to the both of them.  He slid a PADD to each of the officers.  “Well, it seems my timing at reaming you two is just a little off.  We still have a few minutes before the rest of the senior staff arives.”  Michael shrugged.  “I’ll have to learn to drag the beatings out just a little longer in the future.” he quipped wryly, shifting back to the good natured attitude he was more comfortable settling into.  “We already have our first assignment, and it seems our little shakedown cruise is a foregone thing.  I’ll let the two of you get an early look at the details while we wait for everyone else to join us.”

Much of the seats at the long, slender table had filled out once everyone else had finally arrived.  The display was powered up behind Michael, and it featured a somewhat desolate looking M-class world.  A readout in the lower corner of the screen listed a few facts and statistics, as well as the manner of biomes that had been scanned and catalogued on the world.  They were all basically arid and desert-like, with hardly any water or vegetation.  But it held an oxygen percentage that was quite acceptable for most humanoid life, and it was within the habitable range of its sun to support life.

“This is Pieris IV.” Michael was saying.  “It’s a highly experimental agricultural-based world in a system that is a couple days away from the neighborhood of our little posting here in Minos Korva.  It falls on the Federation side of the Cardassian border.  They are reporting issues with soil sensors.”

“Is anyone else finding it ironic that I just spent the last few days converting us over from the specialty focus of agricultural support to highly focused Engineering, and the first thing they do is ship us off towards an agricultural planet?” Kiran Nivar, the Chief Engineer muttered bitterly.

Michael shook his head.  “This is purely a matter about their sensors in particular.  We’re well equipped to diagnose the issue.”

“Begging the Captain’s pardon, sir…” a voice spoke up with a heavy Scottish sounding brogue.  “I admit I’m fair wee bit on the side of havin’ a black thumb, but that world doesn’t look very agricultural to me.”  Those who had not yet met Vorak found themselves regarding the Tellarite strangely regarding his accent that was clearly and decidedly an offshoot of a Human trait.

Michael grinned at the confused looks from those in the room who were as green as he was against the rest of the Fresno’s more established crew.  But he nodded at his Security Chief’s observations.  “True.  I’d had the same question.  I’m no biologist, so I couldn’t give you a more technical breakdown…” he shrugged.  “But as I understand it, the limited vegetation that does grow on this world is made possible through the secretion of some ground worm.  They’re looking to take advantage of that and see if they can’t get crops to grow in dead soil.”

“If I may, Captain.” a calm voice spoke up.  This was Doctor T’Lana.  “I have had ample opportunity to look over the pertinent data while we were waiting to attend to…”  She shot a brief glance towards Revek and Dren Lor.  “Our earlier matter.” she finished discreetly.  “The worms reside deep underground, only surfacing briefly to absorb a unique background radiation from the Pieris sun. This process triggers the secretion of an enzyme as a byproduct. That enzyme has remarkable fertilizing properties, transforming barren soil into one capable of sustaining vegetation. The colonists aim to harness and study this secretion to cultivate crops in this otherwise inhospitable environment. Their ultimate goal is to synthesize the enzyme, which, if successful, could revolutionize the colonization of other desolate worlds within the Federation.”

Michael inclined his head in appreciation of the Doctor’s detailed clarifications.  “The issue at hand is that the colony is relying on their soil sensors to track the activity of these worms.  They can go for an extremely long while before they have to surface and collect their sun’s energy.  They need to be able to track and harvest as much of this enzyme as they can before the season ends, and their ability has dropped to zero.  Something is causing a surge that continues to overload their soil sensors and burn them out.  They can’t button down the source of these overloads.  That’s where we come in.”

At the far end of the table, Linara Rix was shuddering.  As Michael leveled a stern, questioning gaze in the young junior Lieutenant’s direction, the helmsman found herself offering a sheepishly embarrassed explanation.  “I don’t like worms.  I always imagine them wriggling into my ear and making me… do things.”

“That’s quite an imagination you have, Lieutenant.” Michael commented, giving her a strange look.

“Look up the worms of Ceti Alpha V, and you’ll never sleep again.” the young helmsman clarified.

“Let’s keep the discussion about Pieris IV if we could, miss Rix.” Thalissa said flatly.

“You think the radiation these worms feed from would affect these sensors?”  The Bajoran Chief Engineer brought the conversation back on track.  “Maybe prolonged exposure is causing the burnout over time?”

Michael inclined his head in acknowledgement.  “It is a thought that crosses my mind as well.  But apparently no complications were foreseen with exposure affecting neither the equipment, nor the health of the colonists themselves.”  He shrugged.  “But it could be that something was overlooked.  Here’s what I’d like to happen once we arrive.  I want Dren Lor working with you and the rest of our Engineering department to look into the possibility that something about the sun’s properties could be causing this equipment to surge and fail, after all.  I also want their power reactor diagnosed to determine if things aren’t somehow properly aligned.”  Kiran Nivar gave a curt nod, and Michael continued.  “I want Vorak’s team to look for signs of sabotage.  This colony is very close to the Cardassian border, and there’s a very real possibility that they’d assume we set up shop to spy on them.  That would be motivation enough to deliberately interfere.”

“Aye, Captain.” the gruff Tellarite assented.  “I’ll have me computer specialists go over their operating systems to see if any unauthorized access points fouled up their gears.”

“Ensign Revek, once we arrive I’d like you to take a look at their communications gear.”  As Michael turned to his Communications Officer, the young Denobulan remained quiet.  He still seemed somewhat subdued from their earlier conversation.  Be he nodded in acknowledgement.  “Some of it shares the same energy frequency as their sensors, and while their comms haven’t been entirely crippled this surging has still affected them.  It’s another angle to go after, and maybe you can dig up some answers as well.”

“Miss Rix!” Michael leveled his attention back at his helmsman, and her bright eyed gaze met his.  “At a course plotted at a steady warp 6, how long would it take you to get us to Pieris IV?”

She took a few moments in response to tap at a PADD she had casually propped at an angle in front of her as she’d followed Michael’s briefing.  “We’d arrive in 39 hours, sir.” she responded curtly and promptly.

“Lay it in when we get out there, then.” Michael ordered, his head nodding towards the bridge just a couple meters down the corridors outside.  “Make what preparations you can to have your relevant departments ready.  Beyond that, it’s just a matter of waiting to see what we find when we get there.  Dismissed, everyone.”

With that, everyone stood and got to work.  Michael hung back a moment, remaining seated as the room emptied out.  He let out an anxious sigh.  His impulse was to jump into something now, and get cracking at the problem.  But he was the one at the head of this table, now.  He was the one to bark the orders and make the demands.  And now that things had been put into motion, he felt a bit unsettled that the only thing left for him to do was to wait and see how it all played out.  He felt like he should be filing out those doors hot on their heels, putting his head down to the grindstone.  He hadn’t quite prepared himself for the possibility that this new role would make him feel so… restless.