((Starbase 86, Promenade))

The newly appointed, Acting CO, Commander Tyler casually walked through the promenade, not focusing on anything in particular. As always several current or former experiments and research theories flitted about his mind. He wasn’t heading anywhere specific, he wasn’t much of a drinker by nature, but his recent promotion and suprise reassignment had him more nervous then he had been since he had wrote his dissertation a decade an half ago. So a sniff of the sauce might calm his nerves.

He overheard 2 young Lts who were strolling past him. One said ‘Yeah my phase variance was all out of whack on that one.’ To which the other replied ‘Pffft, Talees’s phase variance is even more out of whack though. Deltans are wild bro, I’m telling you, she gonna break your heart so bad…’ the first one then paused and grunt ‘Hey, you keep my bald girlfriends name outta your mouth…’

Tyler raised his eyebrows in bewilderment as the 2 moved on and he stepped into one of the bases bars. It was known for providing a good time for off duty starfleet officers, without some of the more seedy elements a few of the other establishments were reputed to have.

2 Denobulans and a Trill were leaving the bar just as Tyler was entering. He overheard the male Denobulan say ‘Oh, I’m so excited you have chosen to join us again tonight, I would especially enjoy it if you could show me how to that thing you did with your tongue last night. My 3rd wife has spoken of nothing but that all day…’

The Trill female responded “Mm, my pleasure, I’ll send you some holo-programs you can use to…learn the technique.”

Tyler sighed after hearing this. He had been married for 6 wonderful years to his Academy sweetheart, but she had tragically succumbed to a mysterious disease her ship had encountered in the Gamma quadrant. Since then he had had a few girlfriends, but in hindsight he felt almost dishonest with those women, because he had as of yet been unable to allow himself to fall in love romantically again.

Tyler walked past Dorn and Lorn, the two Lurian jewelers. They were known throughout the sector as excellent jewelers and as vibrant, consistent patrons of several of the Bars and Nightclubs on several starbases and planets throughout this region of the Federation. Dorn exploded with laughter, ‘You mean to tell me that that same Zenkethi con artist hawked another fake Rokazian Sapphire on you. How much did he fleece you for this time?’

‘60000 credits, I shouldn’t have told you that. I knew you would just make fun of me, you do it all time. It’s hurts me deeply when you do that Dorn… But you could regain a place in my good graces by filling my glass.’ Lorn grins and glares at Dorn. ‘You still own me for that Jungle party we had last week on Khitomer too by the way.’

Dorn roared with laughter again ‘Barkeep, another round for us please.’ He looked back to Lorn, ‘I’ll fill your glass but that Alcohol fueled jungle safari you keep referring to as a party, is all on you. I didn’t force you to buy all that Kanar and Root Beer with a disruptor to your temple. I told you from the start, I wasn’t paying for shi…’

Tyler took a seat at the bar several stools down from Dorn and Lorn, having heard a few stories about them over the years, he wouldn’t mind seeing why they we’re so universally well regarded. He ordered himself a double shot of their finest single malt(scotch being his preferred type when he did occasionally partake). Over his shoulder he overheard, 2 pilots he presumed having an animated discussion about tactics. One said ‘I had the my IDs on full, pulled a split s, hit my burners and tried to roll away with a delta pattern and those Vaadwaur medium fighters stayed right with me, i almost had to punch out twice during the final chases. They’re maneuverability is just unreal for a ship of that size.’

The other, apparently a more seasoned officer replied ‘Yeah, the fighter jocks from Akira Squadron 4 actually nabbed a partially intact sunlight thrusters pack from when they had knocked out. Their intermix ratios and trust vectoring was about a generation ahead of us. I’m sure the typewriter monkeys back at Intel HQ will some answers and reccomendations to counter them any day now…’ He chuckled.

The younger pilot interjected ‘They say the intel guys do their best work after the fighting stop, heeheee” he snickered. ‘Wouldnt mind flying one of those through the Aldebaran Asteroid Racecourse a few times…set some course records while I’m at it too.’ Laughs and finishes his drink. He stood and extended a hand to the older officer, ‘Well, thanks for the drink brother, and hey good luck on that new assignment of yours.’

The older officer gave his friend a firm brohug handshake and walked with him towards the door. ‘Stay outta of trouble Sneaker(the younger ones callsign), I dont want to have to write any more character references for you whenever you catch a case.’

‘They cant tame me Ratso(the older pilots callsign), but I’ll try to stay outta the brig, they all have terrible mattreses. Aces go hard!(Their old squadrons challenge)” Proclaimed the young man as he left the bar.

The older officer mumbled to himself “Real Hard(their old squadrons response to the challenge phase)…in some cases, too hard” he said in a low tone as he made his way to the bar to grab another drink. He was Lt Danny Wong, a veteran pilot, who just so happened to be assigned as the Acting XO of the USS Blythe, and he stood at the bar, next to his new CO, and ordered himself a spicy Caesar with extra pickled beans and olives. ‘Might aswell make it a meal’ he thought to himself. He glanced at the blueshirted Commander to his left, smiled and nodded.

Tyler replied with a nod of his own and raised his glass in a mock ‘cheers’ motion. Tyler did a double take as he recognized the mans face from his service record. Tyler had been reviewing the names faces and careers of the 4 officers who would make up his Senior Staff on the Blythe. He realized the man next to him was his new XO. ‘Wait, LT Danny P Wong, new XO of the Blythe??’

Wong briefly taken aback, stopped mid ship, and lowered his drink to the table and reaching out to shake Tylers hand. “Yes sir, do we know eachother?”

Tyler guffawed and leaned back. “Not yet. But we’re about to…I’m Fred.” He blurted, being entirely new to the ‘Command’ and ‘Leadership’ thing, and failing to remember the one sentence in one small section of his recent SBO course that stated ‘Being on a first name basis with your subordinates should be avoided until a repore is built between you and them’. He would have alot to learn, and he wanted his crew to follow and trust him, he was determinedly to learn quickly, for their sake and his.

Tyler corrected himself and continued. “Commander Frederick Tyler, Acting CO, USS Blythe.” Offering another mock ‘cheers’, though this time Wong quickly clinked Tylers glass and raised his own in a toast before taking a gulp. “Out of curiosity, do your orders also mention ’emergency temporary reassignment’, and a 2 month time span?” Tyler nodded and Wong continued “…courier and transport duties to aid in the recovery efforts, sounded like we are a scratch crew being thrown together to go and do a bunch of milk runs…” coughs “Uh, respectfully sir.”

Tyler grinned “No disrespect is taken Lt. If I’m being honest though, considering the experience of her new Captain, I feel that a few uneventful milk runs is just what our small ship and even smaller crew might need.” He finished his drink and ordered another.

Wong nods his head to the side, “Very good point sir. Since were being honest, the Blythes new XO, is also a first time rookie.” Sips the extra salty tomatoes juoce, vodka, and spice concoction again.

Tyler looked at the man redshirt. “Atleast you’re wearing the right colour Danny.”

Over their shoulder, shouts erupted from one of the booths along the wall. It was occupied currently, by a Commodore and 2 Commanders. The Commodore bellowed “He said what to her!? On an open subspace channel??? Right infront of his own staff and her bridge crew? He’s Done.

One of the commanders, instantly realizing what was about to happen. “But sir, just…”

“Zip it, you’ve been covering for that arrogant weasel for months now. But this is inexcusable.” The Commodore then turned to the other Commander as he slid out of the booth. “I want him off of my ship, and transfered to Starbase 80 by tomorrow. YOU HEAR ME! Tomorrow!” The Commodore stormed out of the bar.

Tyler and Wong both winced as they heard the unfortunate person would be sent the infamous dilapidated outpost. “Glad I’m not him.” Tyler said.

“Knock on wood sir. Its bad luck…” Wong said, sounding sternly and very serious.

Tyler, who was a scientist by trade, recognized another lesson was bring learned at this very moment. The concept of karma, amd back luck didnt exist in any meaningful sense in Tylers career until now. But having just read Wongs service record, he new there was something unforseen wisdom to unpack that might directly impacting his tenure aboard the Blythe. Tyler gazed around for some wooden object and reached out and tapped on the wooden beer tap handle about a metre away. “Is that a pilot superstition, or leadership doctrine…you commanded a Heavy Fighter Squadron during your last assignment didn’t you?”

Wong tried to hide his horror. ‘Yeah I did…and not comparing you or your ship to worse assignment is just bad juju…if you start thinking you got it better then someone else, that usually when everything goes to shit sir’. ~Great, starfleet sticks me with this nerd who doesnt know enough to command a recycling barge.~ Wong thought to himself.