The Turbolift whirred brightly on its journey to the bridge. Captain Dubois swirled the last few mouthfuls of his coffee around in his mug while getting an update from Wallace about the situation in the engine room. 

“I think I might have got through to her, part of me can’t blame her if I’m honest. When you make Chief Engineer, you get your own way of doing things, having someone else essentially micromanage you when you’re a senior officer. I have to admit, even I’d struggle to keep my cool.” Wallace explained, his body casually leaning against the wall of the car. 

“Hopefully, that solves the issue. Nobody wants a repeat of our shakedown cruise. Old-fashioned or not, we could really use the retired Commander’s insight to get Fairfax back to her peak.” Alex replied, sending the last mouthful to the back of his throat.

“I’m confident she’ll find common ground… So what anecdotes did he have lined up for you this time?” Wallace smirked, recognising that their exit from engineering was more of a tactical withdrawal than a genuine emergency.

Alex glanced over at his XO as the mug obscured the expression across the majority of his face, but his eyes told enough of the story for Wallace to get the picture.

“That bad huh?” 

“You should know me by now, Number one. I love a good war story as much as the next guy. But wow, is he something else…” For a moment, Alex became conscious of the effect the veteran had, even on his inclusive nature. He could see how frustrating it could be to have the history book force-fed to you.

“I get your point. Suppose he must be a challenge to work with day in, day out.” Alex added as the lift gracefully slowed to a stop.

As the doors opened, the chorus of the daily bridge operations flooded into the turbolift; a cacophony of console notifications, key presses, and sensor chirps, undertoned by hushed chatter between colleagues, discussing various aspects of ship operation.

The two men marched purposefully onto the deck with Alex calling for a situation report as he made his way to the centre chair.

The layout of the bridge shared a lot of design elements with the Galaxy class and Ambassador Class, and was generally a mash-up of both bridge designs.

The room was mostly circular in design, like most Federation bridges, with perhaps just a slight bias towards more of an oval shape across the lateral axis of the deck.

Starting at the aft section, two sets of doors faced one another in a small alcove that framed a master systems display on the aft wall. This was the point where the captain and first officer had entered the bridge, with one of these doors being the primary turbo-lift, the other leading to the briefing room and observation lounge at the extreme aft of deck 1

Directly forward was the tactical station, a standalone console situated directly behind the command chairs, which were mounted on a slightly lowered platform in the centre of the room, providing an unobstructed line of sight to the view screen for the tactical officer.

Either side of the tactical station, along the aft wall, were several auxiliary consoles that could be configured to serve a range of purposes. By default, they were set to Operations and Engineering consoles.

Moving clockwise along the back wall, another door, at the 3 o’clock position, port side, was the auxiliary turbolift. This was mirrored on the other side of the room by a door to the Captain’s ready room on the starboard side.

The wall-mounted consoles terminated at the 5 and 8 o’clock positions, where they met a railing to protect against the 2 ft elevation to the flight deck, where the Helm and ops console was situated, directly in front of the view screen but mounted on a lowered platform than the command chairs, again for unobstructed line of sight to the viewscreen.

The upholstery and many of the consoles shared some resemblance to that found on Galaxy-class cruisers, but the layout and the design philosophy of the bridge were clearly of the Ambassador era.

As the captain and first officer took their seats, Lieutenant K’vagh explained the situation, “Sirs, a distress call was received from an Azurak freighter, six point seven lightyears from our present position. They report they are without main power, and their life support is failing.”

“Are we close enough for subspace communication?” Wallace asked.

“Audio only at this time, commander,” K’vagh responded,

“What about other ships in the area?” enquired Alex

“None in range, Captain. Fairfax is the closest ship,” replied K’vagh

“Sir, at Maximum warp, we can reach the freighter in nineteen hours and thirty-seven minutes,” chimed in the helm officer, Lieutenant Juno Sato.

“Standby helm, let’s not dive in before we know how deep the water is, Mister K’vagh, open a channel to the Azurak freighter,” Alex responded.

The chime of the communications system rang out over the bridge speakers, and K’vagh advised that the channel was open.

“This is Captain Alexander Dubois of the Federation starship Fairfax. We have received your distress call. Can you update me on your situation?” 

“FAIRFAX…….NEED ASSISTANCE…….CORE…….DAMAGE……..UNDER…..FAILING……HELP” 

The transmission was distorted by static and alarms, drowning out the individual’s voice. The situation was no clearer but it was certain they were in need of urgent help.

Alex signalled non-verbally for the audio to be muted and stood to glance over at his tactical officer’s console, “Anything on long-range sensors?” he asked.

“Sensors do detect the freighter’s position, Captain, but at this range, I’m not detecting anything more useful at this time,” K’vagh responded.

“Captain, the ship’s library has limited information on the Azurak. They are a reclusive race that rarely ventures outside their own system. In the past forty years, there have only been a handful of interactions with them. Their presence this far away from their known space is highly illogical behaviour.” Lieutenant Commander Sovek added, seated at the science console. The tone of his voice was calm and precise, as any Vulcan would be in the situation; however, there was a hint of fascination as to the freighter’s motive for such a remote voyage.

“Notwithstanding, they are clearly in trouble and are asking for help; we are duty-bound to respond,” Alex stated, grateful for the additional information provided by his science officer, but ever mindful of his responsibilities.

“Helm, lay in an intercept course, standby to engage at maximum warp,” he ordered as his thoughts turned towards the situation in engineering. He glanced over at his first officer, almost telepathically, he could predict Wallace’s thoughts on how T’Lira was going to react to being asked to push her engine to its limit at this critical stage of her calibrations.

“Dubois to engineering, Apologies, Commander, I need you to put your calibrations on the back burner; we need all available warp power.” 

“Understood, Captain, I can’t guarantee how stable she’ll be under prolonged stress, but I’ll make it happen!”

Already, the faint voice of their retired guest could be heard in the background, trying to reassure the chief engineer that “She’ll hold!” and adding some seemingly relevant anecdote from the ship’s history.

Alex then took a brief conference with his first officer, “Thoughts, number one?” 

“We should inform Starfleet of the situation, better to have them mobilising some assistance early in case we run into trouble, and it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to keep up continuous scans as we respond, we might get an early indication of the extent of what’s going on out there,” Wallace advised respectfully, he knew these were only basic suggestions but they were important considerations.

Alex nodded in agreement, “Good ideas, assemble the senior staff in the briefing room in one hour, let’s get as much information together as we can and coordinate our response. I’ll speak to command in my ready room. You have the bridge number one!”

Wallace glanced at the centre chair with a little trepidation. This was only one of a handful of times he’d been given the opportunity to command since he arrived on Fairfax. The feeling of taking the chair always gave him a little anxiety after relinquishing his own command the year before. Yet he was content to lead, with his mentor only a communicator chirp away if he needed him.

As the captain disappeared into his office, Wallace positioned himself comfortably in the luxurious leather of the captain’s chair and issued his orders.

“Sovek, start compiling as much data as you can about that ship and what we know about the Asurak, K’vagh maintain continuous scans, and Lieutenant Sato…” Wallace paused as he waited for his flight control officer’s attention

“Maximum warp, engage!”

14:00 hrs, Deck 1, Briefing room

The observation lounge or briefing room was located aft of the bridge, as was the case with most starships of the Fairfax’s design era. Alex always thought that whoever came up with the idea to but a conference room overlooking the warp nacelles of the ship was either a genius or a psychopath, and maybe a little of both.

On one hand, to some, it gave an awesome view of the stern of the ship, and with the nacelles being essentially massive engines, it conveyed the raw power the ship was capable of producing. On the other hand, the view could be something of a distraction when trying to hold an important briefing, as the human eye is naturally drawn to colour, light and motion. The view from the observation lounge had all three in abundance, especially at warp, when starlight becomes refracted and bent by the lensing effect of the warp field.

Fortunately, someone thought of a solution to this problem and added the ability to polarise the glass- thereby making the windows somewhat less distracting as their opacity could be increased.

Fairfax’s briefing room was again a shared design with her larger Galaxy-class cousins, though approximately 10% smaller in size. There was only one door to the room, located on the starboard bulkhead. A small antechamber connected the lounge with the starboard door in the master systems alcove on the bridge. The antechamber was modestly equipped with a comfortable sofa and a small beverage replicator for situations where personnel or guests may have to wait to be called into a conference already underway.

In the briefing room itself, aside from dual display panels on the port and starboard walls, the conference table was equipped with holoprojectors to provide additional functionality when delivering briefing material. The rest of the room was decorated with memorabilia and decorations that were significant to the Fairfax’s history and legacy. Photographs of Fairfax Falls – the ship’s namesake, adorned the forrad wall along with a reproduction of the original constitution of Vermont housed in a transparent case at the centre of the wall display, amongst some other significant artefacts.

The table was equipped with eight chairs, three on either side of the table and one at each headplace, though there was room for several more if the situation called for it.

Alex sat at the head of the table, on the port side, flanked either side by Wallace to his right and Lieutenant Commander Sovek to his left. To the left of Sovek sat Lieutenant Commander zh’Shaleth, a curious pairing considering the history between Vulcan and Andoria, though relations had come a long way in the last few centuries, and there was absolutely no animosity between these two colleagues.

The next left seat was occupied by Lieutenant Sato, the Chief Flight Control Officer. The youngest and most junior of all the senior officers, she was a natural pilot and would advise the senior staff on the ship’s course and the capabilities of piloting the ship through various situations. Though she was young, she was no less important at the table, and her sometimes fiery temperament was something Alex valued in a bridge officer. She wasn’t afraid to challenge something and stand up and say her piece.

Directly across from Sato sat Lieutenant K’vagh. Chief of Security & Tactical, he was the only Klingon member of the crew, something of a rarity in Starfleet these days, given the current tensions in the empire. K’vagh was a truly intimidating and imposing specimen, but he was fiercely loyal to Captain Dubois.

The final seat between K’vagh and Wallace should have been occupied by the ship’s Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Conrad Harper, though at this point it was vacant. The expression on Alex’s face and that of some of the other members of the crew might lend some explanation to this vacancy. Dr. Harper was late.

Alex leaned back in his chair, his left hand on the table, tapping his index finger in frustration. He pressed his tongue around the inside of his cheeks, trying to telegraph to his ‘Number One’ that he wasn’t pleased with the Doctor’s tardiness.

Just as Wallace got the hint and reached for his communicator, the faint hiss of the door actuators preceded the doctors ‘ anticipated arrival. Rather than looking embarrassed or ashamed for being late, he swaggered into the room wearing his long, teal lab coat, a smirk on his face and one of his trademark novelty coffee mugs in hand. Conrad was the only other officer, besides Wallace, to hold the substantive rank of Commander on the ship. His brazenness was borne out of this fact, and that his overinflated ego wouldn’t let down the fact that he could at any point during a mission hold the lives of any of his colleagues in his hands, literally, as they might have to gingerly poke about inside someone’s chest cavity. He was triple-board certified and massively overqualified for the position of a ship’s doctor, so he faired his chances of being afforded a little leeway as to his arrival time as being very good.

Boldly, he parked himself between Wallace and K’vagh, with the smirk on his face still firmly affixed, making a brief quip to his Klingon colleague as he adjusted his seat, “How’s it goin’, big fella?”  Only LT Sato showed amusement as she fought to contain a grin.

Alex held back passing comment; it was time to move on and get the briefing underway. “Number one.” He signalled, giving Wallace the cue to lead the presentation.

Wallace tapped a couple of keys on the embedded table display, the lights dimmed, and the windows polarised before the hollo-projector materialised an astrometrics display of the sector in front of them. It showed the relative positions of the Fairfax, their destination and the local galactic neighbourhood. “At approximately 13:00 hours, we received a distress call from an Azurak freighter at this location. Information at this point is limited; however, we suspect that their warp core may be damaged and their life support failing.”

The display changed to overlay some more contextual information, such as T.T.I. or Time to Intercept, as well as both the freighter’s projected course and that of the Fairfax.

Sovek took a visual nod from Wallace to deliver his share of the information, “The library database has very little information on the Azurak. They were a pre-warp civilisation until 2369 and primarily used space travel as a means of commercial enterprise.”

“Like the Ferengi?” Sato enquired.

Sovek raised an eyebrow, “Not quite, Lieutenant. The Ferengi’s culture and racial identity are solely based on commercial enterprise; the Azurak are merely a race of merchants that are enabled by space travel.” Sovek responded, before inputting another command into the table, displaying xenobiological data on the Asurak. “Starfleet records are somewhat incomplete, but I managed to compile a more detailed profile from Vulcan databases. Physiologically, the Azurak are similar to humans, male and female sexes, lifespan of around 90-100 years, 9-month gestation period for offspring—”

“Thank you, Mr Sovek.” Alex interrupted, “How about skipping ahead to what’s relevant?”

Sovek again raised an eyebrow. He found it Illogical that his colleagues would not want to be briefed on all aspects of the Azurak, especially as none of them were likely to have encountered them before. “As you wish, Captain.” Tapping his interface again, now displaying an audio waveform of the Azurak distress call.

“While the Fairfax is still too far away to collect any useful data with long-range sensors, I took the liberty of analysing the Azurak’s distress call. I used a fractal algorithm to recover some of the transmission that was obscured by static…” Sovek initiated the playback.

“TO ANY SHIPS IN RANGE…..UNDER ATTACK……NAUSI….PIRATES…….BOARDED. LIFE SUPPORT FAILING……..WARP DRIVE OFFLINE…..URGENT ASSISTANCE”

Suddenly, the expressions in the room changed in response to hearing the restored transmission; the threat level just elevated significantly.

“Did he say, Nausican pirates?” Conrad asked, his smirk fading into the most serious face he had worn all week.

“The transmission was too degraded to retrieve any further data; however, that would be a logical conclusion based on the content of the transmission,” Sovek replied, ending the presentation.

“If it is Nausicans, we can expect significant casualties, Doctor. I want your medical staff to prepare for the worst. If there are survivors, I’d expect them to be in a bad way.” Alex instructed, processing this information in his head, coming to the realisation that this endeavour might call upon them to put the Fairfax’s tactical capability to the test.

“Sir, I recommend we go to Red Alert before arrival. Nausicans are not unknown to use wolfpack tactics and leave frieghters stranded as bait for bigger quarry!” K’vagh suggested, his expression letting through a mixture of concern and excitement over the prospect of battle.

“He’s right, sir, it could be an ambush. It’s best to be prepared.” Wallace concurred.

“Agreed, Mr K’vagh see to it immediately, and begin familiarising yourself with any tactical information on the Nausicans you can get your hands on, try and give me some advantage if it comes down to a firefight. The rest of you, I want this ship prepared for anything. We’re going in blind on this one, so anything that could give us the edge will count. Dismissed!”

The senior officers need not say anything in response; they all knew their instructions and wasted no time returning to their posts.

“Doctor Harper….hang back a second!” Alex demanded.

As the other officers began leaving the room, they couldn’t help but glance at Conrad; they all knew what was coming; perhaps they couldn’t help but satisfy their curiosity to see if he showed any measure of shame or humility.

An awkward silence befel the room, Conrad, suddenly feeling alone and isolated.

“Commander, Is there a reason you couldnt be on-time to this briefing?” Alex probed. He sat relaxed in his chair which creeked wity every minute movement under the Captains bulk.

“You know how it goes sir, finding reliable cover for this exelen—”

“Yet, you had time to stop by the galley on your way to the bridge, and pour yourself a fresh cup of coffee?” Alex interjected, recognising that the mug in the Doctor’s hand wasn’t replicated, it was one from his collection of novelty mugs – an obesssion of the Doctor that some found slightly unnerving.

Instead of saying anything, the Doctor simply upturned his cup over the carpet. It was empty.

Alex was not prepared for this, he had been frustrated since the Doctor walked in late because he had come to the conclusion he had prioritised his own comfort over the importance of being on time, clearly this appeared to not be the case.

“I stand corrected, regardless, the briefing was scheduled for 14:00. If you find yourself unavoidably delayed then please extend me the courtesy of a notification.” Alex grumbled, “Your flamboyant personality asside doctor, you are a senior officer on this ship and I expect you to atleast portray that image in the presence of more junior officers. Do I make myself clear?”

Conrad accepted the dressing down, perhaps he had shown a little disrespect in the manner of his arrival, he couldnt help his personality. He knew that the Captain would eventually warm to his charm and his brilliance would speak for itself in time. “Crystal clear sir!”

Alex kept staring the Doctor up and down, his opinion at this point was blemished by the perception of the Doctors ego, he found him intolerably arrogant and began to wonder how he ever succeeded on the path of promotion.

Alex dismissed the doctor and turned to gaze out the observation window. Taking in the view, he was painfully reminded of the adjustments required of a commanding officer to a new crew. He had done it once before, and he recalled that end result of a well integrated crew seldom bore any resemblance to the early drafts. There was work to do for sure, but he recalled his own arrogance as a young tactical officer and how he could easily have been the one to behave like the Doctor once upon a time.

He absorbed one last look out the window, as the lighting dimmed, accent lights turned to red and the alert klaxon began to sound. Preparations were well underway, and for the most part he was optimistic about his crews performance going forward. This incident would be the true trial by fire for all of them.