Lieutenant Commander Abraham Greyson was apoplectic as he stared at the PADD, scrolling through the startling report from his Deputy Chief, Lieutenant Eleanor Bishop. He asked pointedly, “When was the last time they had a doctor? Or someone with medical training?”
Bishop felt the heat from her commanding officer. The levels of disease, infections, and chronic illnesses were staggering. According to records, Chico Colony hadn’t seen a starship in over a year. The data the team had gathered on their initial examination of the colony suggested it had been longer. It had taken Eleanor three readings of the report to believe it. The initial scans when the Justice Squadron had arrived gave the medical teams pause. A cautious Captain Dread ordered hazardous suits for the team. Her fears were soon justified as the video feeds from the scene went live. The dead bodies overwhelmed the colony morgue, and the sour odor from the makeshift tents redlined the meters. Bishop answered, “Two years ago, by their count. They’ve been using whatever remedies they’ve learned. We’ve got a team examining their communications array. Their sensors spotted us, and they jury-rigged the transmitter to send us the message that got our attention. It blew out shortly afterwards, which is why we couldn’t reach them again.” She’d spent a hour poring through the video stream. She could feel the next question from the chief medical officer.
He asked, “I’m guessing the ship from a year ago fudged their contact?” His eyes were razor-sharp as he stood, hands gripping the top of his chair. She had quickly determined that he did not mince his words or dance around topics.
“We’re not sure. It was an unaffiliated task group ship that was given the task last minute as they were passing by the colony with other orders. The colonists don’t have records of the visit. But the official report they filed with Deep Space 47 says they did, and all was well.”
He frowned, staring her down.“You’re not sure because?”
She grimaced. “Frontier Day claimed most of the crew, including the captain and XO. Those who survived resigned or took deployments in the far reaches. Finding them has been a challenge. They might have done something with the colony, but we’ll never know.” Her frustration threatened to boil over. It had been a small ship with a list of orders in one direction and a single order in the other. She still couldn’t understand the decision to shirk the colony.
Greyson whistled low. “Frontier Day continues to taunt us. We’re going to be here a while to clean this up.”
“You think that low of me?” Lieutenant Commander Scott stood at attention as she spoke, in shock. Commander Augusto Vargas sat at his desk, a PADD in one hand. His face was placid and immovable. That irked her, and she felt her face flushing with frustration. Losing command of the Southampton had been one thing. Stepping aboard the massive Yorktown-class Justice and being promoted to one of two executive officers had been another. Finding out that her senior officer and fellow XO wasn’t great at interpersonal communication had been something else entirely.
The commander’s brow furrowed just enough to show what Abigail thought was annoyance. He replied, “I think you misunderstood what I said, Lieutenent Commander Scott.”
In her head, a hot reply was already being replayed several times over as she forcefully held her tongue, biting the inside of her cheek for good measure. In her short tenure on the Justice, she was learning plenty about chain of command and how to work well with others. Vargas seemed determined to show her what not to do. She answered, “You said I lacked the experience for the position of executive officer.” Her arms were behind her back, hands clasped tightly together. Talking with her hands was trouble, and she was desperate to avoid that pattern on the Justice.
Vargas kept his voice even. “I followed that statement by informing you that you can fill that lack of experience through learning.” He sat forward in his chair, the frown deepening. “It is vitally important that you hear that from me, Lieutenant Commander Scott.”
She felt her face flush. She hadn’t heard the second part. Abigail, chagrined, remained at attention as she answered, “I apologize for my lack of listening, Commander Vargas. I appreciate the honest appraisal.” She shifted her stance. She desperately wished to be dismissed. Vargas kept his eyes on her before dropping them to the PADD where he tapped his acceptance of her report and sent it on to Captain Dread.
“Apology accepted, Lieutenant Commander Scott. You may leave.”
“You look like shit, Abby.”
“I feel like it, Nala,” Scott groused as she sat on the couch of her newfound friend, Ensign Nala Shira. Nala was an engineer and shared a love of all things ship and station. Shira had worked with Captain Dread on the Buran as her first assignment. Now she was deputy chief engineer on Justice.
Shira handed her a plate of pasta and sat down on the other end of the couch, her own plate in hand. “You’re going to have to work with him. All of us have to figure it out. New ship, new and old crew mashed together. It’s like a milkshake recipe that isn’t working.”
Abigail rolled her eyes as she took the first bite of her spaghetti. Nala’s father had run a burger and milkshake place in their small town and still did, even if he was overseeing the four older brothers do most of the work. “Are you trying to say we have to fine-tune the recipe for the Justice crew?” Nala nodded, an impish smile creeping slowly across her lips. Abigail appreciated the woman’s ability to take the edge off things with her humor.
“Call it whatever you want. A ship as big as this takes time.” She finished her plate and returned with a PADD, turning the pages of her current edition of “Engineering Today”. Scott felt a smile tracing across her own lips. Nala’s reading habits were rarely outside the bounds of whatever journal or engineering specifications manual she was studying. She was a nerd through and through. Nala glanced up, her own smile reaching across the divide. “You eat so slow, Abby. You would fascinate my mother.” The stories Nala had told of her legendary mother and the way she ran the house amazed, amused, and scared Scott. The woman had raised Nala and her brothers alone in a remote colony. As much as Nala had shared, it had not been easy.
“Long as she doesn’t put me in a study, I’d be delighted to meet her.” Ten minutes later she’d cleaned her plate and returned to her edge of the couch, PADD open to her bookshelf.
Nala murmured, “You should give the Captain’s Leadership series a try. My favorite so far has been Sisko, with Picard a close second.”
Scott asked, “And third?” She already knew the answer. She just liked to see the curious smile on her friend’s lips when she admitted to it.
“Riker. And don’t give me that look.” For all the work Nala did in composing herself, she could rarely hide from her close friends the true Nala Shira. It amused Abigail and gave her the sense that she belonged here.
“Hey, I had a latent crush on La Forge and O’Brien at different times in my life. I’m one to talk.” She scrolled through the books. “I always appreciated La Forge’s engineering ideals, but his leadership stuff was always good. Maybe I’ll go back to that.” A quiet lull lay between them as they fell into silent reading.
Nala broke it with, “You just like those eyes of his.”
They both dissolved into laughter.
