Guest Characters: Captain Henry Maxwell, Task Force Commanding Officer, Commanding Officer of the Verity, and Lieutenant Akira Rowe, Chief Operations Officer of the Verity.

Captain Henry Maxwell stood at the large viewport and stared out into space at a particular ship in dry dock. The USS Verity. Many small crafts buzzed around her, those that consisted of work bees and cargo bees that were in the process of restocking the Verity’s cargo bays. After their humanitarian mission in the Velorum Sector, where Captain Maxwell had sent over half of Verity’s supplies to many worlds that requested them, the need to restock was high. But they were not finished. The mess the civil war had caused had placed many colonies in dire need, some of which were in jeopardy. Maxwell stood there, his eyes fixed on his ship, as his right foot tapped away at the carpet. He was there when they tried to rescue as many Romulans as they could off of Romulus and when the orders came to a halt the evacuation efforts, he wanted to steal a large freight ship, jettison its cargo and try to load up as many people as he could, in complete disregard of orders. But instead, he was a patriot to Starfleet, a ‘good boy,’ and followed his orders. For that, lives were lost, and those who survived pointed their fingers and cast their blame. Maxwell wanted to do the same, but he held his tongue. Now he was in command of a mighty ship and a Task Force tasked explicitly for this, and all he could do right now was try to wait patiently for the Verity to be ready to depart.

“At the pace they are going; it will be another day before the Verity is ready to return to the Velorum Sector.” The voice came from Lieutenant Akira Rowe, his Chief Operations Officer.

Maxwell took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh before he made a complete one-eighty turn on the heel of his left foot so that he could face his desk and look at her simultaneously. “This waiting is going to give me a stroke.” He told her with yet another heavy sigh, an attempt to relax his nerves.

“We would be able to help at best with a fully loaded ship.” Said Rowe.

Maxwell smirked. “I know that, Lieutenant.” He then pressed a button on his desk, and a holo display appeared. It displayed a map of the region now called the Independent Romulan Factions, with many dots. Dots were the colony worlds that were calling for help. “How much of our assets are out there?”

“Almost all of it, sir,” Rowe replied as she lifted a padd in her left hand, pressed a couple of buttons, then swiped up on the padd towards the holo display on Maxwell’s desk. This action sent data to his desk, allowing the computer to extrapolate and add to the map. “Several starships are providing medical supplies and rations to worlds that have been attacked and are struggling with food shortages. The USS Thyanis is stationed near the Iota Geminorum system.”

Maxwell tapped his chin when he heard about the Thyanis. “That’s Kurios’ ship. He has heard good things from the Academy instructors about him. This will surely be one hell of a test for him and his crew. To come out of the Academy and put right into the fire, many graduates have been having that lately.” Maxwell realized as he folded his arms across his chest. “We need more assets out there. I think it is time we started deploying Starbase 93’s Runabouts onto these missions.”

Rowe frowned. “We would be stretching our resources, Captain.”

Maxwell looked at her. “We will stretch them as I see fit. We may not be able to help everyone; there are just too many worlds. And those worlds will likely be helped by the Romulan Free State, the Romulan Republic, and the Klingon Empire. But we have to help as many worlds as possible, give them a chance to survive independently.”

“And if they join the other factions rather than the Federation?” Rowe asked.

Maxwell shrugged his shoulders. “Then at least they will know that we did not abandon them, not this time. This is our chance for redemption, Lieutenant. I want everything we have put on the hangar decks, loaded up, and launched. But don’t over-strain them. There is only so much a runabout team can do. But they will have her full support once the Verity is back out there.”

“Understood.” Said Rowe before she made her way for the door.

“And Lieutenant.” Maxwell stopped her in her tracks and waited for her to give him her full attention again. “Get me, Commander Graves.”

Five officers stood on the hangar deck of one of many hangars that Starbase 93 boasts, just before an Arrow-class runabout. Four of the officers stood in a single-line formation. In contrast, the remaining officer stood before them with a padd in their hands, their head tilted downward slightly, an obvious indication that they were reading something off of the padd. Or at least that is what they appeared to be doing.

The one who stood there staring at the padd was Commander Arthur Graves. His eyes were not focused on the words displayed from the padd’s screen, as his thoughts were still processing his recent conversation with Captain Maxwell. Graves was appointed Acting First Officer of the Verity for the time being. A provisional period as it were. The current Task Force Executive Officer will leave their posting at some point. Reasons were not made clear; Graves was told that the position would be open in a while, and he was selected as a possible candidate. Unfortunately, this means other candidates are on Maxwell’s list. Graves will need a lot of effort to prove his worth to the Captain. But can he control his blunt attitude and vile temper?

“Always this ‘hurry up and wait’ crap.” A voice came from one of the four ensigns. Which one? Graves is not sure; he was not paying attention. But his attention was undoubtedly on the ensigns now.

“Who said that?” Graves demanded with his voice raised a level higher than usual. For a moment, no one said anything, and that annoyed him. “No integrity, huh? Fine. All of you get-” Just as he was about to give all four of them correctional training, three took a step back, leaving one in place. The only male ensign among the group—is must goa typical, young, naive boy. Graves stepped over so that he was face to face with him. “What’s your name, boy?”

The ensign frowned, for it was Graves who had requested for them. “Ensign Porter, sir.”

Graves blew hot air from his nose with a huff of annoyance. “Wrong answer! Your full name! Say it like you have meaning, son!”

“Ensign Edward Porter, sir!” He nearly shouted.

“Good! That’s more like it. Do you have a problem waiting on your Commanding Officer to read the mission briefing, son? Hmm? Do you have somewhere more important to be? Are you assigned to anything else? Do you have crates to stack somewhere? Answer me, boy!” Graves demanded.

“No, sir! No problem, sir! Nowhere important, sir! Not assign-”

“Oh, shut up. A ‘no’ is all I need.” Graves then clasped his hands behind his back, the padd still in his left hand. “So what is it then? Hmm? Impatient, are we? Eager to get underway? Does the sound of being on an away mission fill your blood with joy? Eagerness?” Graves asked him.

The ensign hesitated to answer, as he had felt like this was a trick question for some reason when it wasn’t. “Yes, sir?”

“Don’t answer me with a question! Answer me with feeling!” Graves requested.

“Sir, yes, sir!” Said Porter.

Graves smiled. “Got tired of stacking crates, huh?”

“Honest, sir?” Porter asked.

“Speak freely, son.” Graves told him.

“Hell yeah, I got tired of stacking crates, sir. We all have. We joined Starfleet to make a difference. Not be custodians or warehouse workers.” Porter explained.

Graves smirked. “Didn’t turn out to be roses and daisies, did it?”

“No, sir.” Said Porter.

Graves then gestured the other three ensigns to return to formation as he stepped back to bring all four into his view. “Someone has to do all the hard work because it takes hard work to get to where I am, where the Captain of the Odyssey is, or where the Captain of any starship is. You don’t get to where I am for free. Sometimes you must go through vigorous training or days where you’re soaked with sweat from all the hard labor. Or in my case and some officers’ cases, you get there through bloodshed and turmoil.” Graves then saw the look on their faces.

“Some of you may have heard about the attacks from the Klingon group called Sovereignty of Kahless and the attacks they’ve made on several Starfleet assets and Federation worlds. Right after I graduated from the Academy, I served on board the USS Noble, a Saber-class vessel.” Graves explained and continued when he noticed that he had their full undivided attention. “The Noble was one of the vessels disabled during the assault on the Sovereignty Fleet. She was also one of those that drifted a little too far from the group that some of the Sovereignty ships took advantage of. When the Noble was boarded, being a lowly ensign fresh out of the Academy, it was nothing I expected. I took security courses and self-defense classes and even participated in a few Martial Arts Tournaments. You’d think the Academy would prepare you for what was to come. You even have to participate in holodeck simulation courses in defense against the Borg, Romulans, Cardassians, and more. So, of course, we also had training courses on the Klingons, how they love to get close and personal with their Bat’leths. It was the best Starfleet had to prepare you for the real thing, but it still does not beat it. In training simulations, you know it’s a hologram, the safeties are on, and there is nothing those holograms can do to you. But in real life? There are no safeties. The blades aren’t dull. The disruptors aren’t just a light show. You only have one single life.”

Graves sighed; he had much more to tell but not enough time to say it. “That’s enough on storytelling, kids. Time for the briefing.”

“Awe.” It came from two ensigns, which clearly they were getting into a bit there.

Graves rolled his eyes; he needed to get the actual show on the road. “Listen up.” He raised his voice to get their undivided attention again, to get them to stop thinking about what he had just told them. “As some may be aware, the Romulan Star Navy launched a coup against the Senate of Rator. As a result, the Empire has begun to collapse and will be no more soon. Many of the Romulan worlds under their flag have declared independence and are now alone. With no support from the government that is gone, these worlds are being hit with the consequences. Trade routes severed. Pirates and marauders are taking advantage of them. Rogue Klingon houses raiding and taking what they want. The task force we serve uses every resource to provide humanitarian aid to these colonies. That means we will be quite busy. Think the four of you can handle it?”

“Yes, sir!” All four answered in unison.

“I hope so. Because there will be moments that we will have to defend ourselves, we may have to deal with those pirates and marauders or those rogue Klingons. We may end up in a firefight against some remnants of the Romulan Star Navy. Or we may have to deal with some of the Romulans from the independent colonies who decided that stealing was the better option.” Graves explained to them. Then he changed the tone. “Or we may be getting our hands dirty. Helping them plant fields and restoring some manufacturing plants or converting one into a large hydroponics bay. We may be blasting rock to divert a water source. We may even have to help build a sewer system and deal with the shit.” He saw the look on their faces as if they were starting to reconsider. He changed the tone once more. “We may be helping children or helping a woman give birth to a child. We may end up celebrating with them, enjoying a good drink and food, and telling stories around a campfire. The fact is, ensigns, we have no idea what we will get into. Our job is to help these people become fully independent and not have to rely on anyone aside from the obvious. Suppose this influences them to join the Federation, fantastic. If they don’t and join someone else, that’s fine. Or if they choose to band together and create a whole new faction, all the better. We’re not there to recruit them or force them. We are there to help them keep the lights on or warm food in their bellies. Sound good to you, ensigns?”

“Yes, sir!” The four of them acknowledged in unison once again.

Graves smiled. “Good. The USS Gydan is in a standard configuration and has already been stocked and loaded with all we need. So, unfortunately, the four of you will be sharing cabins, two each. This means, Ensign Porter, keep your hands to yourself. Clear?”

Porter smirked. “Yes, sir.”

Graves smile faded. “I mean it, Ensign.”

Porter’s smirk faded as well, and they nodded. “Yes, sir!”

“Good. You’ll be flying. Ensign Daniels, you will be the Co-Pilot. Clarke, you will take the Engineering station beside Porter and Veel; you will take the Operations station beside Daniels. We’ll worry about Science and Tactical whenever the situation requires it. I will take the command seat right in the middle, where I can keep an eye on all four of you. Clear?” Graves asked.

“Yes, sir!” All four said in unison once more.

“Good. Get to your stations; we leave in five minutes. And Porter, once we clear the station and reach our designated warp point, set course for system 5925 Svati. Those are our orders to begin our efforts.” Said, Graves.

“Understood, sir.” Said Porter before he headed for the hatch, the last ensign to board the runabout.

Graves took a deep breath and held onto it for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh. It was not precisely what he had in mind, but it was a start. Of course, he would prefer a starship, but he figured there must not be many available in the task force, especially from what he was told. Graves looked down at the padd once more in his hand before he made his way and boarded the runabout.