Alayna Bertrand stepped onto the bridge, her hands full of her PADD and the materials she had been assigned.  Her meeting with Captain Bradley had been postponed, and she’d been directed to meet him on the bridge this morning.  It was busy.  Senior officers were finalizing assignments with their departments while completing final checks.  In the middle of it all stood Captain Samson Bradley, working with each of them as they brought their progress to him.  The air felt tense.  Something was up.  She walked further, and Bradley noticed her.

“Ensign Bertrand.  Welcome.”  His tone was terse, and his eyes lacked the spark she had seen the day before.  He was serious, and his focus was razor-sharp.

“Captain Bradley.  I brought the materials as requested.  I wasn’t sure…” She looked around the busy command center.

“You’ll have to hold onto those for now, Ensign.  We’ve received a distress call from outside the station’s range.  Gagarin is too far out, so we’re moving into place. Consider this your second half of the interview.  The station is yours.”  He didn’t wait for her to respond and turned to the next officer vying for his attention.

She felt the panic rising within her.  Stay calm, she told herself.  Breathe.  Find your station.  Don’t panic.  Just…breathe.  Alayna shoved her pile under the communications station and slid into the chair, eyes taking in the new console and screen.  To her left was the science station, and to her right was the environment console.  There was an earpiece in a holster, and instinctually, she slipped it into her ear, the comfort of the device helping stave on the simmering panic.  Her hands found the login controls.  Suddenly, various channels, arrays, and contacts filled the screen above the console.  Remember your training, she castigated herself.  She knew how to do this.  She’d passed exams, handled the simulator, and proved herself aboard her senior practicum.  I can do this, she repeated to herself.

The voice of her interviewer and CO broke through her inner monologue, “Ensign Bertrand, request permission to depart Montana Station.”

She fought the shakiness of her hands.  This was the easy stuff. She found her way around the console, opening a channel to the starbase docking control, “USS Zephyr requesting permission to depart.”  Alayna felt like everyone’s eyes were on her.  They probably were.  She was the only show in town until the ship could heave from the docking port.  

A quick voice was in her ear, “USS Zephyr, you are cleared for departure.  Moorings are clearing.  The dock and umbilical are in retreat.  Godspeed and safe travels.  Montana out.”  She turned and repeated the information.

Captain Bradley moved into action, “Helm – departure and clearing course at full impulse.”  She watched Ensign Castillo tap in the command, pushing the Typhoon class starship out and away.  Various stations began to report status updates.  Engineering confirmed that the moorings had cleared.  Operations verified with each station, including hers, that all stations were ready.  The view ahead soon was that of stars and lots of them.  To Alayna, it felt like a great expanse and nearly overwhelming.  She’d been in space, sure.  But never this far out.  She had started questioning her choice when she’d woken up, and those worries continued to voice themselves.  Bradey ordered an intercept course and warp speed.  The ship jumped into action, and they were on the way.  She worked at the console until she felt a presence behind her, and Captain Bradley’s voice spoke, “Ensign Bertrand, please locate and identify the distress call.”

“Aye, sir.”  Her hands worked the console.  The initial report and the additional updates streamed across the screen, and she fell into her duties with little effort, “Distress call is from a large freighter group under the Harris Transportation flag.”  She tuned the sensors, “There are three ships, all bound for Montana Station.  The distress call came in ten minutes ago and hasn’t stopped transmitting.”  Alayna worked further, “I’m not able to open a channel – there’s significant interference.”

Bradley pivoted to face the young woman sitting at the science station next to her, “Ensign Morrison?”

Alayna could see the slight panic in the young woman’s eyes.  It reflected her feelings.  New captain, new ship.  Lots of new.  Whatever her hangups, Ensign Morrison managed to speak evenly, “The interference here is artificial.  We’re not reading anything similar to The Blackout event in that area.  Whoever it is, they may have discovered how to emulate the interference.”

Captain Bradley turned to face forward, his eyes searching the screen, “Time to intercept?”

“Five minutes.”  There was a sudden intake of breath on the bridge, and it did not escape Alayna that she had a part in it.

The CO also noticed it and spoke to the bridge, “First rule – don’t panic.  Panic leads to mistakes.  We can’t afford to make mistakes here.  And yes, there is a list of Bradley rules.  You’ll come to know them soon enough.  Go to yellow alert.”  He tapped his badge, “Commander Vargas to the bridge.”  Alayna watched in mute wonder as the lights faded to a bright yellow and the dull klaxon rang throughout the ship.  She checked the timer on her console.  Two minutes.  She stared at the clock as it ran down.  She startled herself, realizing she would have to play a part in all this when they dropped from warp.  Either hailing, sending, or receiving…or all three!  Alayna sat up in her chair, hands hovering above the console.

Thirty seconds.  Twenty seconds.  She could hear the breathing of the officers on either side of her.  The focus on the bridge felt electric.  The rear door slid open, and the XO entered, finding his way to the right-hand seat in the center.

Ten seconds.  Bradley spoke, his voice stern but quiet, “Steady.”

Five seconds.  Alayne worked on her breathing exercises.  Don’t let the panic win.  The words from the captain echoed in her mind.

The last few seconds slipped away as the Zephyr dropped out of warp speed, sliding slowly into the sector.  Reports began to ring out, first from science: “Reading the three vessels – two are damaged.  The third is better.  There are three Bird of Prey that are on attack vectors.”

Alayna began to transmit and attempt to engage with the freighter group while Lieutnenat Kondo De La Fontaine reported that two of the Bird of Prey had been rattled.  “We could motivate them to depart the sector without much trouble, captain.”

Bradley called out, “Red Alert.  All hands to battle stations.  Ensign Bertrand – anything from …whoever they are?”

She was tapping at her console, annoyed.  “I’ve attempted multiple times.  The most I’ve gotten is a variation of Klingon and Romulan curse words.  I don’t think they expected us here…but they’re not willing to talk.  The freighter group is in a panic and requesting immediate assistance.”  She winced as the shouts became more shrill.  The Bird of Prey sortie was making another run at them.

Captain Bradley returned to the center chair, “Helm – intercept those Birds of Prey.  Tactical – phasers only.  Let ‘em know these are our friends.”  He sat down, “Put us between them and the freighters.”  Alayna watched as the thirteen phaser banks went to work as the slow-moving starship entered the fray.  The three Birds of Prey attempted to give the Zephyr a pot shot or two, but De La Fontaine, at tactical, did not give them a chance.  Within a minute, the mercenary ships had moved away and jumped to warp, leaving the three freighters alone.

Alayna let out the air she had been holding, but her relief didn’t last long.

“Ensign Bertrand – find out how badly they’re hit and what they need.  Coordinate with operations, engineering, and sickbay.”

She gave an “Aye, sir” and went quickly to work.  It took her a few tries to get the hang of the inter-ship communications systems, but within five minutes, she’d compiled the damage and casualty reports and fed them to the various departments that needed them.  Each department confirmed they were taking it from there, allowing her to return to working on her reports.  As she worked, the voice of her CO returned behind her again.

“You performed well, Ensign Bertrand.”  

She turned in her chair, a restrained smile on her face.  She didn’t want to be seen as too proud.  Pride wasn’t a pretty color on an officer, especially an ensign trying out for her first assignment.  Alayna wanted this job, and sitting at this station on the bridge had sealed her desire.  “Thank you, sir.  I appreciate the opportunity.”

He eyed her, and she wasn’t sure what to expect or interpret.  Captain Bradley wasn’t easily read.  She supposed that was part of the job – keeping cards close to the chest.  He finally spoke, “You performed well under mild pressure and handled my assignments with good response time.”  He extended his hand, “Welcome aboard the USS Zephyr, Ensign Bertrand.”

She took it and returned the firm handshake, “Thank you, sir.”  He gave her a curt nod and returned to the center of the bridge, already in conversation with his XO.  Alayna sat back in the chair.  This was her station.  This was her department.  This was her crew.  

She whispered to herself, “Don’t screw it up, Alayna.”