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Part of USS Denver: Prologue

Dime Tour

Capital City Intergalactic Space Port, Terra Alpha
TBD
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Lieutenant Dougal MacDonald crossed the crowded concourse approaching Mikaela.  He was wearing a kilt and sproran with his Starfleet uniform jacket under a plaid of MacDonald tartan.  He was clean shaven with a blaze of red hair close cropped. “Ye must be the wee lassie the Commander told me about aye?” He said to her in his Highland lilt.

Mikaela looked up from her PADD at the Lieutenant that had just spoken to her. She smiled, and took a moment to look over his uniform. She was surprised that someone could wear a kilt in Starfleet, but didn’t think too much on it. “Yes sir, I’m Lieutenant Commander Mikaela Kovalev, but you can call me Mika. We’re not big on formalities, or so I’m learning.” She takes a pause. “So, with whom do I have the pleasure?”

Dougal bowed, “Lieutenant Dougal MacDonald of the Clan MacDonald at your service ma’am.  I’m the closest thing the Pike has for a tactical officer though, in truth I’m more or less the team’s muscle.   When ye need something shot, blown up, or broken ye come to me lass.”

She starts laughing, and returns his bow with a curtsy of her own. “It’s very nice to meet you. I’m going to keep that in mind. You remind me of one of of my friends on the Presidential detail. He was the leader of the tactical group; and boy did he love it. I’m the team pilot and navigator. And miscellaneous agent…” She trails off with a smile and laugh. “This is a different team. Starfleet and yet…not Starfleet. How did you join this team? Or rather, how did Ethan recruit you?”

“The Commander? Och aye.  He dinnea recruit me exactly.  He recruited his sister to serve as our wee medic.   The lass recruited me when she left the Europa.”

Mikaela smiles sadly as she listens to Dougal. ‘Everyone here was chosen by Ethan, except me. I’m the exception, and yet…it feels like everyone is friendlier than he is. Interesting how that works out.’ “That’s pretty interesting. You were serving on the Europa…do you miss your old assignment?”

“Nay lass,” Dougal said wirh a chuckle.  “Not even a wee bit. I dinnae think I am made for normal Starfleet service. Aimee drug me to the Europa from the Hippocrates. That lass, was even worse. A bloody hospital ship.  I was bored out of me mind, and stuck with daily Starfleet regs.  No, the Pike is more my style. I suppose I’ve got a wee bit of cowboy in me too.”

Mikaela laughed, easily drawn in by Dougal’s storytelling skills and personality. “Covert operations is certainly much more relaxed than the usual Starfleet assignments. It’s also a bit more exciting. More hand to hand combat.” She smiled at the last part. 

“Lead the way through, Dougal…otherwise we’re going to get absolutely lost.” She smiles and laughs. “I still don’t know what the Raven looks like. Knowing me, we’re probably going to end up on a ship going God knows where.” 

He led them down the terminal past crowded travelers and busy shops catering to passengers before they boarded their transports.  The terminal split. To the right the civilian passengers moved to and from their respective gates.  To the left it was nearly empty with just a handful of Starfleet personnel moving about.

The Starfleet Security Officers checked their credentials before allowing them past the gate area where Dougal led Mikaela to Gate A2.  “Home sweet home,” he said laughing at his own joke as he entered his access code to gain access to the jet bridge that led to the Zebulon Pike.

Mikaela saw down the jet bridge to the hatch on the ship. It was partially made of glass, so she could see the Zebulon Pike, a Raven-class starship. It was small, to be sure, but it looked majestic somehow. Of course, she was dwarfed by the much larger Galaxy-class, Nebula-class, and others that were in also in dry dock. But there was something about her, it reminded Mikaela of an ancient musical she loved dearly; Hamilton: “…[she’s] young scrappy and hungry….” The Zebulon Pike was relatively new, and from what she had read, it was small, but packed a hell of a punch. She was light, fast, and her crew seemed eager for fulfilling missions. It fit well. 

As she was lost in her own thoughts, the doors opened with a loud clack and whoosh, startling her out of her thoughts and bringing her back to the present moment. “She’s a beauty, alright…” is all she managed to say. 

Dougal laughed,  “I dinnae ken I’ve ever heard anyone describe her as such lass. The hull is nearly fifty years-old,  but she was completely overhauled and refit when Commander Talon drug her out of mothball facility about five years ago.”

He lead her down the jetway and into the ship proper.   Consulting a PADD he continued down the narrow corridor of deck two and then took a set of stairs down to deck three.  He paused at a door he entered commands and the doors parted to reveal a cramped compartment with a set of bunk beds along one wall and a simple desk, stool, and computer terminal along another.  “The crew is small enough yo dinnea have to share your quarters,  but it’s not terribly roomy.”

Dougal chuckled,  “Aye well, welcome to the Pike lass.  Take yer time and have a a wee look around.   I’ll be in the armory I ye need anything.” With that the big Scotsman turned and left the newcomer alone.