In the center of the command deck, Captain Bric, Lieutenant Dover, and Cadet Wylder stood in the center well near the new large holo-graphic command and control console. The convoy had departed a few days before, and the sense that a murderer might have just slipped away on what was potentially a voyage of the damned pervaded their thoughts. So far the convoy had been not seen any signs of the Meade or any of the other pirate outfits that were known to operate in the area.

“Any more problems with the power supply to the trade hub, Dover?” The muscular Caitian said after staring at the Head of Operations with his piercing yellow eyes.

“No, sir, but we are closely monitoring the situation.” Lt. Dover replied. He had a whole team making sure that everything remained stable with no more hiccups. He was determined.

“Be sure you do. I’m sure you and Lt Galk will be flooded with modification requests as people and businesses start to move in to all the shops and warehousing space down there.” The Caitian’s tail wagged back and forth as he pulled up the docking and hangar control feed on the holo-display.

“We’ll be ready for anything that is thrown our way. My team has been working on some modifications to flow processes that should optimize some operations.” Dover confirmed, ready to get to work and see his team in their element, getting the station going.

Graves had been standing at the rear of the command deck for a moment, observing the exchange, feeling pleased with himself to finally be in the thick of it – a proper frontier assignment. But he had a purpose to the visit more than sightseeing.

“Captain, ahem,” Graves raised his voice, “you are now two months overdue for your physical. If we’re going to be ready for anything then that includes all our physical health,” he looked around, slightly abashed, “sir.”

“A bit busy here Doc.” The black coated Caitian replied.

“I understand, sir. The regulations do not, and if I report the delay again then it won’t be you that gets the reprimand, captain, but me.”

“Well, it seems I will have to leave you in charge until I return from my physical Cadet.” Bric smiled and bore his large canine teeth at Wylder, who was only just starting his fourth duty shifts as his yeoman.

The Cadet smiled and shook his head as he had learned to expect the Captain’s constant quips, “I hope you’re joking again, sir.”

“Of course I am, you have reports and requisitions to file and review, I’ll be back when the sawbones is done with me.” The CO purred as tapped the Senior Officer of the Watch on the shoulder on the way by to signify who was really in charge and departed with the Doc.

The Infimary was spotless, Graves had seen to that – personally, slightly to his frustration alhthough he was pleased with the outcome. It was, however, old. Here and there were more modern medical devices, the occassional upgraded equipment patched into older systems. The overall impression was one out of the history books. Not that it troubled the young lieutenant, it all felt like part of the adventure.

Graves tapped the biobed, “Captain, if you would. This won’t take long, even with the bits and pieces of ancient technology.” Graves flustered a little, realising that the technology would have been cutting edge when the captain was a younger officer. He cleared his throat.

“Is that a 2350s vintage Bio-imager?” Bric snorted as he made a note to personally review future requisitions requests from the good doctor and add his personal brand of ‘umph!’ to help get it approved.

“Yes, sir.” Graves looked at the imager, and scrupulously tried to avoid pointed glances at the rest of the old equipment. Particularly those that he was uncertain of their function. “But I’m excited to be on the frontier with you all, and understand that it comes with… compromises. Today, however, I’m confident that our measurements of you will be entirely correct. So, you’re blood pressure is a little low.”

“I’m a pure black furred Caitian Doc, our blood pressure it always a bit low.”

“I’ve taken your species norms into account, captain. You’re still a few notches below the baseline. I’d like you to start adding some vegetables and foods rich in omega-6 fatty acids to your diet.” Graves finalized a meal supplement plan on his PADD and passed it to Bric.

“Rabbit food? You want me to start eating lettuce and nuts like a pet Angosian gerbal?” Bric said as he read the data on the display.

“A gerbal that will live a long and fruitful life. Without compromising on its ability to command in stressful physical circumstnaces, captain. I promise you’ll reap the dividends.” Graves tried to look confident and reassuring. “All finished, sir. Thank you.”

After finishing up with Doc Graves thr mumbling CO wandered over to the Psychiatric wing that was adjacent to the infirmary started looking around as he was prone to do. He hadn’t had a chance to welcome the new Head Counselor aboard, and figured he should take the time, since he was in the neighborhood.

Lieutenant Commander Kessera Reno sat in her office, a PADD in hand. Since arriving aboard, she had been reviewing the station’s dossier, going through it person by person, making a note of who she would have to talk to first. It began to look like the whole crew at this point. This would take some time.

Bric wandered past the unattended front desk and, silent and stealthy as always. He used his tail to gently roll a stylus off of the reception desk. “Is anyone present.” He said casually.

She looked up from the PADD. “Enter,” she said as she set it down.

“Greetings doctor.” Bric said as he appeared in the doorway of her office without a sound.

“Captain,” she said, standing rapidly as the Caitian man stepped into her office. “I could have come to you if it would have if you wanted to meet with me.”

“There was no need, at ease doctor. I was just over in the infirmary getting my yearly physical done. Figured I’d stop by and see how you’re settling in is all. Is your staff on a lunch break?” He asked, noticing signs of habitation in the other office and a desk along the side wall of the small psychiatry complex.

Reno made a mental note of how the Catian responded; she had learned early in her formative years that non-telepaths didn’t like having their thoughts and emotions read aloud. However, she knew he was being genuine.

“Yes, sir,” she started looking through the windows at the small complex. “Some are. I have requested a little bit more staff from command. I hope I didn’t cross a line. Going above you and such.”

“Your staff is your concern Doctor though I hope for your sake command is more responsive to your request than they have been to mine.” The muscular Caitian yawned with a purring sound, esposing his large pointed canine teeth.

After a brief discussion about the dangers of some the crew and staff potentially becoming overwhelmed or extra anxious due to all the extra vistors of dubious morals the CO got a call to return to the Command Centre.

In the command centre, the comms officers console exploded in a cacophony of notifications and chimes and beeps.

“Sir, multiple distress calls coming in from the convoy…they’re under attack by a small group of fighters, and the Meade sir.”

The Officer of the Watch, a burly Tellarite named Chonk rose out of his seat with an aggravated grunt, “Are their any other ships nearby?”

As he walked over toward the comms station Chonk turned to Wylder, “Cadet get the Captain up here, right away.”

Cadet Wylder straightened immediately at Lieutenant Chonk’s order, adrenaline already sharpening his focus.

“Aye, sir!” he responded smartly, his voice clear and steady despite the sudden spike in tension on the bridge. He stepped quickly to the nearest command console and opened a priority channel.

“Captain Bric, this is Cadet Wylder. You’re needed on the bridge right away, sir — priority one. The convoy is under attack by fighters and the Meade.”

Wylder kept the channel open for a moment longer to catch the Captain’s swift acknowledgment, then glanced back toward Chonk, hands already moving across the console to pull up secondary tactical feeds.

He listened intently as the science officer and comms station updated the situation, his expression tightening at the news that the Meade was already fleeing the scene.

“Sir,” Wylder spoke up once the immediate reports finished, “Captain is en route. I’ve also flagged the LERA tracking data to the main holo-display for when he arrives. Should I prepare an intercept course or hail the Samaritans Hope to coordinate?”

The on duty science officer controlling the ships sensors replied, “Only two other ships, a First Federation transport and FV Samaritans Hope, a Provosts cutter.”

“Chief Bong is reporting the Meade has fled the sceje at high warp. The Hope is responding to the distress call, they say they are charging course to assist. The First Federation ship is acknowleding the distress call and diverting away from the scene sir.” The comms officer said.

Chonk grunted at the actions of the First Federation vessel. They certainly were still an enigmatic faction in this general region of the galaxy.

“Get the LERA tracking the Meade Ensign.” The Tellarite Lt ordered.