—- Week 1: Pernod Resort —-

As the first batch of crew from the USS Hood disembarked and filtered out through the recreation and hospitality centre that they had been directed. Individual room assignments had been given out, with ensigns and below having to share quarters. With about a quarter of the crew coming down each week, the batches were large enough to leave the Hood feeling empty and yet the resort clearly could have handed ten times the crew at one time. The fact that there were sixteen other similar sized venues suggested just how busy the planet had been before the Dominion. Study of the world had backed up what the citizens of Perond had said themselves, that they had little in the way of industry and had clearly built their civilization around being accommodating to space fairing races. They likely, as far as the Hood could tell, had not been a warp capable species when they had been first contacted, but the sheer beauty of their world had made it a destination for older more advanced races who had not had a Prime Directive. Thus now, centuries later, they were a warp capable species if only by osmosis.

Shuttles and runabouts brought the crew down, as well as transporters. Science teams had worked out how everyone could take at least a week off, and the ongoing experiments could still be attended to by those remaining onboard, as the crew took shifts on the planet.

Ensign William Gakor hefted his Starfleet issue dufflebag and headed down the gangplank of the runabout that had brought him. The sun was high in the sky, but not hot the way it might get on Earth or Vulcan. He got the feeling that uncomfortable heat was not something that occurred here. He’d been surprised that he had his name drawn to be in the first wave of vacationers but he supposed that was what was nice about random, it saw no rank.

A golden woman, the entire race of Pernod seemed to be extremely attractive and extremely good golden, handed him a welcome kit that consisted of a room assignment, and a map of facilities from things that made sense like ‘pool’ to much more confusing things like ‘Stress Reduction Facility’. He took the packet and began to hunt on the map for his hotel room.

He stopped by where a taller fair haired human was directing things. Gakor approached him and asked, “Excuse me do you know where A-32 is?”

“No clue, probably before A-33 and after A-29,” the man said, “I’m the Assistant Chief of Security on the Hood, not a guide. I’m here to make sure none of you make any trouble.”

Gakor wasn’t sure exactly what kind of trouble that might be, but he nodded.

A woman also in uniform approached and grinned, “Ignore him Ensign my brother is all bark and no bite. A year or so ago he’d have been the source of any trouble.”

Counting pips on collars Gakor stiffened slightly, “Commander.”

The Lieutenant Commander nodded, “At ease you’re on vacation, not need for rank unless you actually screw up.”

The security officer, a lieutenant so a lower rank than his sister, did not seem pleased with having his credibility questioned. He sighed and gestured to the right, “I think the A section is that way.”

”Thank you sir,” Gakor said and hurried away.

As he was leaving he heard the sister tease, “See Will you can be helpful when you put your mind to it.”

—- USS Hood, Counselor’s Office —-

“So you want to be reassured you’re doing the right thing, letting your crew take vacation?” Chief Counselor Yuhiro Kolem asked as she poured herself a cup of green tea. She was the only member of the crew that really was allowed the latitude to cop an attitude with the Captain, and she took advantage of that.

Olivia Carrillo nodded, “I’m just worried. We want to take some time off and now a pleasure planet appears. It feels too convenient.”

The half-Betazoid shrugged with non-committal flair, “Sometimes things are convenient. I sense no deception from them, and we’ve done all we can to look into their story. Short of trying to hack the Dominion information network and looking up the planet. We can’t eliminate danger altogether Olivia.”

The captain sighed, nodded, and looked out the large bay window that ran the full length of one wall of the counselor’s office. The way they were orbiting Pernod it looked out into the vast unexplored space beyond. She tore her gaze from the far off stars and directed it back to her counsellor and confidant, “I know it’s just with a quarter of the crew gone at any one time, we’re open to something happening. I wouldn’t be allowing so much crew down on a non-Federation world normally.”

”We’re on a five year mission. Two months in. Take the opportunities we get for recreation and to get off the ship. As great as the holodeck is, we’ll go stir crazy if we don’t get off the ship at some point,” Kolem observed.

”How did the old Constitution-class do it?” Carrillo said, referencing the old ships of yesterdays long past, which had established the five-year missions in Starfleet history.

Kolem laughed, “They were all barking mad. Pike, Kirk, Spock… all of them.”

”Is that your professional opinion?” Carrillo asked, laughing.

”Yes ma’am,” Kolem smiled.