Captain’s Log, Stardate 240112.1. USS Proteus, Captain Noli Auru Commanding.

Proteus is nearly a month into humanitarian relief efforts on Zaran IV following devastating earthquakes caused by a rogue comet passing through the system. Gravimetric distortions throughout the system have caused significant disruption to relief operations. However, we’ve provided hundreds of relief shelters for those displaced by earthquakes in seven different provinces. Commander Vren and his team have successfully created several new agricultural centres where the populace can once again grow crops to help sustain themselves when we depart. Lieutenant Mora and his engineering team have managed to implement an early warning system that will detect any future gravimetric shifts caused by residual effects of the comet’s trajectory. I’m proud of our efforts, and I’m sure the people of Zaran IV are too.

Proteus remains in orbit, operating with a skeleton crew as we mop up random fragments and serve as a transportation hub between continents as our Away Teams gradually return to the ship.

Having arrived at Zaran IV some 25 days ago, alone thanks to a shift in orders for the rest of the squadron, no one expected to be there still all these weeks later. Starships had warp drives and impulse engines to ensure they didn’t outstay their welcome, but the Echelon-class cruiser hadn’t left orbit for the last twenty days as relief efforts had consumed all departments across the ship. It wasn’t a science survey, or mapping a star cluster, but it was what Starfleet was there for. Federation citizens needed help, and those unfortunate souls left aboard the ship ensured the wheels kept turning whilst the rest of their colleagues did their best for the people of Zaran.

Lieutenant Commander Orys Ch’tosrik, Commander of the Starfighter Air Group, had volunteered his services to the captain early in the mission, offering to log additional star hours on the bridge so that he could work towards completing his command certifications. With him came the rest of his pilots, eager and willing to log their own hours and finally experience life in the command centre. It hadn’t been what they had expected. No phaser fights, no red alerts, no ship-wide emergencies. But still, it beat ferrying equipment and personnel to and from the ship. Pilots liked flying, but they hated being used as glorified taxi drivers. So, all around the bridge and supported by specialists from different departments, bridge stations were occupied and manned by squadron pilots in traditional uniforms learning the basics and enjoying every minute.

Orys had run countless simulations and training drills, including running the traditional Kobayashi Maru simulations for those interested in command, but it had been a breeze so far. He was standing looking over Gosia’s shoulder and overseeing the results of the last drill when there was a little commotion at the forward stations. Not-so-hushed conversations taking place between Xorin and Sira drifted far enough that they caught the Andorian’s attention.

“Hey,” he loudly called out, “what’s going on down there?” he asked, leaning on the rail near the tactical station and glaring in their direction.

Arguing continued for a few seconds more until the department XO rose from the tactical station and yelled. “Hey!”

Turning in their seats, the Romulan and his Orion counterpart looked shell-shocked as the XO glared at them. Neither of them particularly wanted to explain their reasoning for the disturbance but another glare from the XO brought words out of the mouth of the Romulan at Ops.

“Sensors have detected something,” Xorin said, returning to his console. “I can’t be sure but I think it’s…” he stopped in his tracks, freezing on the spot.

Strolling swiftly down the steps to the flight deck, the Commander placed a hand on the back of the young pilot’s chair. Leaning over his shoulder, the Andorian looked at the readings from Xorin’s display. As soon as he made sense of the readings, his antennae dropped.

“Open a channel to the away team,” he instructed, “I need to speak with the Captain.”

Glorious rays of sunlight beat upon the Northern Islands, bathing them in an early morning glow that was almost ethereal. Summer on the islands made the Away Team’s work a lot more pleasant, and it was entirely understandable why some activities had been prolonged. Who wouldn’t want to enjoy such weather instead of the replicated, stale atmosphere of their starship?

Noli had taken the opportunity to beam down and check in with her team commanders, enjoying a stroll along the beachfront with Onsas in the process. With her trousers rolled up to her knees, she clenched and buried her toes at will, letting the warmth and the coarseness of the sand exfoliate her feet. Every few minutes foaming sea water would lap at her feet and cause her to smile. Never in a million years would she have ever imagined such a magical place for her first mission, and she’d been brought here because of a disaster of epic proportions. Perhaps, in a roundabout way, the Prophets had listened to her at last. She needed this, and it turned out Zaran IV needed her.

“Vren reports the last of the water purification systems are being installed this morning which means all of the agricultural centres will be operational by the end of the day.”

Facing out to sea with her eyes closed, Noli took several deep, refreshing breaths whilst listening to Onsas and his report. The Xelliat brute hated the sand – according to him it was coarse, rough and irritating – and remained suited and booted despite his captain’s urgings.

“What about the planetary shield grid?” the Bajoran whispered in a way that completely bellied the serious nature of her question, her words travelling on the summer breeze.

“Mitchell informed me that she’s enlisted Mora’s help. They’re still struggling to get the projector arrays on South Island to communicate with the rest of the system consistently. If they can’t get it fixed, there is a chance that a segment of the grid could fail sporadically and leave their section vulnerable. They are working on a redundancy measure with an orbital array, but Lieutenant Mitchell described it as…” Onsas paused as he tried to recollect the exact phrase the young human had used. It was a peculiar phrase he hadn’t understood, for logical purposes, but Lauren had assured him it was right. “…I believe her words were  ‘something of a pipe dream’ Captain.”

Noli finally opened her eyes and let out a quiet laugh and shake of the head, knowing exactly what her tactical chief was like, and her penchant for earth idioms never failed to make her smile. In truth, Lauren had been the saving grace for Noli in the early days of her tenure on Proteus, making up for the loss of her dear, dear friend Prida, who had remained on Lakota. It meant a lot to have someone she could trust by her side after everything that had happened.

“I bet she did,” the Captain smirked, shaking her head slowly. “Tell her she can ha…”

Her instructions were cut off by the chirping sound of the communications badge on her left breast. She let out a sigh as she tapped the device. “Noli here. Go ahead,” she instructed, hoping there was a reason for the disruption.

“Captain,” the familiar voice of Lieutenant Commander Ch’tosrik sounded concerned. “We need you up here ma’am. There’s something you need to see,” the Andorian told her.

Noli turned and looked at Onsas, the Xelliat shrugging before bending down and picking up his Captain’s boots for her. He held out the black, leather footwear and waited for her to take ownership.

She let out a wistful sigh, knowing full well that she was unlikely to be back there anytime soon. “We’re on our way Commander. Noli out.” Grabbing her boots from the XO, she marched past him and headed for the transport site, a last look over her shoulder at the beautiful sapphire ocean she was loathed to leave behind.

Emerging from the turbo lift on the port side of the bridge, the Captain’s whole demeanour had changed since transporting aboard again. She’d been dragged from her dream-like scenario and pulled back to the harsh realities of life in command, and she hoped more than ever that there was a good reason for her recall.

“Orys…” she called, skipping down the steps at speed to join the Orion at the forwardmost station on the bridge. Onsas wasn’t far behind.

“Ah, Captain.” Ch’tosrik turned his head on a swivel and frowned at the Bajoran. “I wouldn’t have dragged you back, but you need to see this,” he said, almost in apology as he stepped aside and gestured to the Ops display.

Taking a step forward, Noli let out a sigh, looked over the material on the LCARS panel, and immediately froze. Her eyes widened and her breathing grew heavy enough that Onsas noticed that all was not well, even from a distance. “Captain?” he asked, approaching Ops.

Coming to a halt on the other side of Xorin, the XO reviewed the same information and instantly understood. “Are we sure?” he asked, looking down at Xorin, then across at Orys.

“Triple-checked with all three stations,” Orys confirmed with a nod.

“Relay the data to Starfleet and Task Force Command,” Noli instructed when she emerged from her trance-like state. “Signal an immediate recall. All senior staff back aboard at the first opportunity. Number One, get me the Squadron Commanders,” she concluded, heading up the stairs for the Observation Lounge.

Onsas watched as she left, his eyes narrowing lightly as he considered what this news might mean for their new captain. For any of them, for that matter.

“Aye Captain,” he called after her, then turned to Orys in a hushed tone. “Transmit the data and begin the recall. I’ll contact the squadron,” the two sharing a single nod of agreement before parting ways, the Xelliat taking control of the command chair, tapping on the arm controls feverishly.

If what they had found was true, Proteus had ceased her work as an angel of mercy on a humanitarian mission and had instantly become the first wave of defence against an ever-familiar foe.