The USS da Vinci’s patrol route had taken them towards Skoni; another 11 hours away at the current speed of warp 5. It had been just over a year since the USS Grus had visited the planet and their report had proved interesting reading.
In fact Commander Mary Anacostia-Bolling had a copy of that report on a PADD laid on the desk in front of her. She wished it hadn’t been so long and knew following up on the investigation, if you could call it that, would prove tricky. She was going there with an open mind and a fresh set of eyes and knew the two officers sat opposite would do the same.
“So now you’ve read the full report, what do you make of it?” The Commander asked both her XO and Security Chief. “Do either of you have any thoughts?”
It was the Tellarite who was first to speak. “I don’t like this Chief Constable.”
“Go on, why’s that?” The Commander probed.
“He sounds like someone who thinks too much of himself.” Lieutenant Grav grumbled in his usual tone. “And the size of that police force under his command is well beyond the requirements of the city’s current population.”
“If arrogance was a crime, I can think of a few people we’d be hunting down right now.” Anacostia-Bolling mused. “But you are right to sound concerned about the size of the police force.”
“What has the Governor or capital in general said about the matter?” Lieutenant-Commander Alara Ley asked.
“Surprisingly little.” The Commander stated. “Didn’t even acknowledge the Grus was there; let alone any issues planet side.”
“That’s very unlike the head of a planetary government.” Grav sat forward. “They complain when Starfleet turns up and criticise use when we don’t. Demand help one moment, then moan about excessive interference the next. They are never, completely silent.”
“Cynical, but I can’t argue with his assessment.” Alara agreed. “So what’s our plan?”
“We turn up; act normal, whilst staying vigilant for anything odd going on.” Anacostia-Bolling answered.
“Is that why you told the Grus to alter course?” The Trill XO queried.
“Yes, someone might panic if they see a pair of Saber’s turn up on their doorstep.” The Commander concluded. “As far as anyone is concerned, its situation normal,”
**********
As the finer points of the impending visit to the planet Skoni were discussed in the meeting, the rest of the USS da Vinci carried on as normal. Once again Lieutenant Beriev had the Captains seat. He looked a lot more comfortable in the chair than he had several months ago, when asked to take Command. He loved his science to much though, to wish a role like this to become more permanent. However sitting here, calm and relaxed with no emergencies to deal with, certainly had its good points.
The ships course remained true and steady, under the watchful eye of Ensign Toby Isaacs, their Chief Helm Officer. Next to him and based on the Captains preference for the Bridge layout was the Tactical station, currently being monitored by an Efrosian officer who was part the resent influx of new crew. His features and hair, made him look much older than he actually was.
At the back of the Bridge, positioned clockwise, Ensign Gofan the Arbazan at Operations, Lieutenant Giovanni Agusta at Science, the Engineering Consul was unmanned and Ensign Peter Phillanie kept an ever alert ear on communications.
Messages and reports were coming in from various ships dotted around the sector, but nothing that warranted their assistance or investigation. Phillanie listened, categorised and logged each one, as they came in.
Somewhere out there a cargo hauler was running 7 hours late, a freighter was delayed due to the wrong paperwork and a luxury passenger liner was missing a crate of white wine. The later may need investigating, but certainly not by the crew of the da Vinci; that privilege would fall to someone else.
The next message sounded more urgent; at least at first and involved a lot of yelling and swearing. However it was nothing more than another freighter captain complaining that the orbital tug had been rather rough, when it came to nudging his ship into position The curt reply being that if he’d bothered to get his maneuvering thrusters fixed in the first place, there would be no issue. Peter smiled to himself and continued the task of monitoring the numerous communication channels.
**********
Chief Petty Officer James Rockwell was busy working on the port engine of the Shirley II; the da Vinci’s type 11 shuttlecraft. It was the only one of its shuttles to have been aboard the ship prior to its current assignment and still carried the COE logo to the left of the pilot’s seat in the cockpit. The original Shirley had been destroyed in 2377 and this one had now been in service for 25 years.
The issue he was dealing with was a pair of damaged warp coils. If you looked careful at the panel he’d removed to reach then, you could make out the small puncture hole made by the meteor. It may have been about the size if a pea, but the tiny piece of space debris had created a lot of damage.
He’d sent one of his assistant technicians to the storage area to get two new coils, and as that had only been a moment ago, Rockwell wasn’t expecting them back just yet. “That was quick!”
“What was quick?” A female voice, in no way belonging to the guy he’d sent on the errand, replied.
Rockwell turned, and stood upright, briefly considering straightening his uniform jacket, but realised the mess he’d make of it with his filthy hands. “Sorry I thought you were someone else.”
Ensign Hayley Green, the ships Chief Engineer gave a small smile. “Just seeing how you’re getting along with your work Chief.”
She had a lot of respect for the man; who kept the da Vinci’s auxiliary craft operational; certainly a lot more than her predecessor had; and as someone who wasn’t adverse to getting her own hands dirty when something needed fixing, they had a lot in common.
“Should have the engine fixed up before end of shift.” Rockwell announced confidently. “As for how and why she got hit in the first place, I’m still puzzled.”
“Could it be a fault with the deflector?” Green offered.
“It’s a possibility.” He put a hand to his chin, and realised he’d probably just left a large smudge on his face. “I’ll run the usual diagnostics.”
Hayley tried not to laugh when she saw the black mark on his face, and stepped away when she saw the technician returning with the parts he’d been sent for. “I shall leave you boys to play.”
“Play indeed.” James shook his head in amusement, then looked at the man carrying two small warp coils. “Come on then lad; let me teach you the correct way to fit a coil, not that long winded rubbish in the manual.”
The life of a starship engineer, no matter the rank or experience, was never dull.
