Part of USS Triton (Archive): This Far, How Further? and USS Odyssey: This Far, How Further?

This Far, How Further? – 3

USS Triton (NCC-80106), Earth, Sol System
Stardate: 78250.7
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Seated at the head of the conference table in the USS Triton, Captain Horatio McCallister was engrossed in reading the various reports that laid before him. A steaming mug of tea sat next to him, warming his hand. The room was quiet, apart from the occasional beeping sound of the consoles near him. Captain McCallister had chosen to work in the conference room instead of the ready room, which Captain Rio Canção formerly occupied. Memories of Captain Canção’s heroic sacrifice during the Triton’s last mission still lingered in the room, making it difficult for McCallister to work there. Though her personal belongings had been placed into storage, it didn’t feel right to McCallister. She was one of Starfleet’s honoured captains. She had served Starfleet for a long time, over a century, thanks to her El-Aurian heritage. Filling her shoes, let alone her legacy, wasn’t going to be easy for whoever Starfleet decided to put in as Triton’s permanent captain. 

Suddenly, the door opened, and Triton’s first officer, Commander Thaustin, entered the room with a look of concern on his face. He approached the table and spoke in a respectful tone, “Captain, we’ve arrived in orbit of Earth and are now docked at the San Francisco Shipyards.”

Captain McCallister put down his mug and looked up, responding calmly and composedly, “Thank you, Commander.” 

The two of them had developed a good working rapport ever since Horatio’s brother, their squadron commander, had given him temporary command of the Triton several days ago. The young Xindi man was terrific at his job, and McCallister was warming to him. He had suffered losses on his own command during the mission against the Dominion. His first officer, chief of operations and even now, his chief science officer, was on the Odyssey instead of the Bellerophon. The crew he had spent building together was fractured, just like the Triton crew was grieving for those who were now gone. If it had been for the Frontier Day celebrations, he would have stayed with the Bellerophon to help those who needed it. Instead, the almost heartless approach from Starfleet was that they couldn’t have one of their ships sat among the fleet without a proper captain in the centre set. It was all ridiculous, in McCallister’s opinion. It was just some stupid, over-the-top production to show off the might of Starfleet. A might, he felt, could have been used more in the Deneb Sector only a few weeks ago. 

Thaustin took a step closer to the table and continued, “It’s an awkward situation, isn’t it, sir? You, temporarily assuming command of the Triton while your own ship is being towed to the Avalon Fleet Yards for significant repairs.”

Captain McCallister nodded in agreement, “Yes, it is. But duty calls, Commander. Starfleet demanded that a captain be assigned to the Triton ahead of the Frontier Day celebrations. I couldn’t refuse the request, even though my own ship is heavily damaged.”

Thaustin responded with a smile, “I understand, Captain. And I welcome your leadership on board the Triton. But I also understand that you would wish to be with the Bellerophon, especially during this difficult time.”

Captain McCallister nodded once more, “Thank you, Commander. I appreciate your understanding and support.”

As Thaustin turned to leave the room, Captain McCallister’s mind was already focused on the task ahead. He may have been someone other than the Triton’s permanent captain, but he was determined to do everything he could to ensure that everything went without a hitch so he could get back to the Bellerophon. The responsibility of leading the Triton during this critical time weighed heavily on Captain McCallister’s mind, but he was confident in his abilities to handle the challenges that lay ahead. 

He had no other choice.


Thaustin walked back onto the bridge to the commotion of the crew finalising docking procedures with the shipyard. Though he liked Captain McCallister, he was no Rio Canção. Her grace, elegance and sometimes mischievous looks and sense of humour made her quite the presence on the Triton

Walking down the ramp and back around towards the command pit, he looked at Commander Belire Kazlaf, their chief science officer and second officer. “How are we doing, Belire?”

“All stations and departments report ready for the full handover to the shipyard, commander,” Kazlaf answered from her anti-grav chair. “Jayshon reports that the warp core is being powered down now, and Ethav is going through the final procedures to hand over computer control.”

“Excellent,” Thaustin said, nodding in appreciation. “I’ll speak to the yard supervisor about how long we will be docked for.”

“Jayshon said the battle damage to the hull and the starboard power coupling would take several days. Plus the amount of stress we put on our transporters, they will need a massive overhaul.”

Thaustin sighed. “At least we are in safe harbours.”

The Elaysian woman nodded. “Indeed,” She passed him a PADD. “The entire crew has been granted full R and R while we are docked. Everyone is expected to get off for a few days, at least a week by the looks of things.”

Thaustin took the PADD and started to skim its contents. “Great, I’m sure not worrying about the Dominion for a little while would be a nice change before we participate in the Frontier Day celebrations.”

“Any idea what we will be doing?” Kazlaf inquired. 

“Something to do with the Odyssey, Themis and the rest of the fleet in some new computer system,” Thaustin replied. “That’s another new system that I know the engineers will work on while we’re here.”

“Shall we just ask them to replace every system on the ship?” Kazlaf asked sarcastically.

Thaustin chuckled a bit. “That wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

“Any news on when the memorial for the captain will take place?” Kazlaf checked to ensure anyone else was in earshot before asking. 

The young first officer sighed. “Fleet Captain McCallister is going to liaise with Starfleet about that. He’ll keep us posted.”

“Understood,” Kazlaf said. She pushed a button on her chair to move forward and then paused. She turned around. “Thaustin, you don’t need to bear the entire weight of her loss on your shoulders. I’m here to help.”

The young Xindi man smiled at her and thanked her for the offer. He appreciated it and definitely appreciated the change in their science officer. Ever since Canção had died, Kazlaf had changed. Her bluntness had almost diminished. Her curt responses to junior officers were vanishing. Her stern demeanour had softened. This was a new side to her, one that Thaustin had yet to meet. That all said, Thaustin had never had an issue with her himself. Whether it was because he was the first officer and she held some respect for him and the position he held, or she only remained the way she was with those subordinate to her because she preferred the distance with those that worked under her.

Nevertheless, the change in her personality was welcomed and needed at this point in time with the crew. Thaustin returned to his chair, sitting to the right of the captain’s. Again, no one had bothered to sit there since the death of their former captain. Not even McCallister. He had opted to stand in front of it and go from one station to another—a more hands-on approach. Thaustin didn’t know if this was his leadership style or if he was still showing respect to his predecessor (if temporary). Either way, just like Kazlaf’s change in personality, it was greatly received by the crew. 

Thaustin took one more glance around the bridge. Though his crew were professionals and securing the ship since it docked was a relatively easy one, he could see they were all in pieces. 

”Then make sure you come back in one piece.”

His final words and request to his captain continued to reverberate in his mind over and over again. If only he insisted more. If he had protested more. If he had done something to stop her from going on that away team, then she would still be here. Alive and preparing to enjoy the Frontier Day celebrations, showing off the Triton in all its glory to the rest of the Federation.


“Well, hello, stranger,” Doctor Uknare said warmly. “It’s not like you to visit here so often.”

Counsellor Naef-Oron nodded; the giant, bulky Brikar lieutenant stepped into sickbay, bowing his head to avoid hitting the doorway. “Good day, doctor,” He said in his deep voice. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Naef, you are always welcome here. You know that.” Uknare responded as she gestured for him to move with her from the central surgical bay towards the private confines of her office. “Can I grab you something to drink, a coffee, or…no, wait. I know what you want. A kava juice?”

Naef-Oron smirked. “You know me too well, doc.” He nodded in acknowledgement and followed her into the office. The door gliding shut behind him. 

After getting their drinks, both officers sat in the two armchairs opposite where Uknare usually sat behind her desk. “So, what’s this about, Naef?”

The counsellor rubbed his firm chin before answering. “We were both on that away mission when the captain didn’t come back; I wanted to see how you were doing.”

Uknare sighed before sipping on her iced raktajino. “I’m coming to terms with the whole thing. It just happened so fast, Naef. I keep wondering if there was another way we could have saved the colonists and the captain.” She leaned forward and pulled her desktop console around to show the contents on the screen. “I have to admit I’ve been researching into long-term use of the transporters on biological matter, attempting to understand the science of purging non-biological matter to biological matter. Seeing if there was a way we could have separated the life signs of the colonists from the metagenic weapons being stored in the buffers with them. I keep hitting a brick wall.”

“Maybe there isn’t,” Naef-Oran consoled her. “You said it yourself, metagenic weapons are so unstable, and at that moment on the Dominion ship, we were under too much pressure to have time to consider and explore all options.” 

“Maybe, maybe not, who’s to know now,” the doctor sounded defeated, starkly contrasting her mood when he first entered. “Did I tell you I served with Rio before the Triton?”

The counsellor shook his head. “No? How come it has never come up over these last few years?”

Uknare smirked and shrugged. “I don’t know why.”

“So, come on, you have to tell me more,” Naef-Oron insisted.

“It was on the Oxford, a Sovereign-class ship and one of earlier postings. I was initially the assistant chief medical officer before I got a battlefield promotion and a raise to the chief medical officer role. My superior had died during a battle in the Kalandra sector, and while I was fixing a broken arm that Rio had sustained, she made the decision there and then.”

“Didn’t you come from the Oxford to the Triton?” Naef-Oron asked. 

The Haliian woman nodded. “I did; the chance to serve on such a diverse crew was appealing. In fact, Rio, who was at the academy, encouraged me to apply. Don’t get me wrong, when Captain Brenn took over from Rio when she left the Oxford, he did a great job, but I suppose as she gave me that chance, I always felt I owed her one to listen. When she took command of the Triton three years ago, I was more than happy to stay.”

Nodding in agreement, the counsellor sipped the Bajoran juice drink. “I get it; she was impressive. I met her at a cultural anthology symposium on the Debrune. I presented a small research article I did about possible Debrune behaviour patterns based on archaeological discoveries from other races we believed were associated with them. After my presentation, she spoke to me for over three hours about the subject matter. She then offered me a job on the Triton.”

“She knew her history,” Uknare agreed. “That was her true passion, knowing more about what was buried underneath every planet we discovered that was teaming with life.”

 The two professionals stopped their conversation momentarily to reflect on their former captain’s life.

“Once we know what is happening to her memorial, we should share these stories with others,” Ukanre suggested.

“That would be a fitting tribute to her,” Naef-Oron agreed as she raised his glass of drink to hers, lightly tapping them in honour of their fallen captain.


Though they had never ventured into the torpedo bay before, Ensign Andar felt as though they were entering a strange new world. Its decor was the same as every other room on the ship, though this time, the amount of ordnance slightly started Andar. The Phylosian had never been so close to so many quantum torpedoes in their life.

“Lieutenant Lonar, are you in here?” Andar called/chimed out. The vibrations coming from their voice almost sounded song-like.

The young Cardassian woman appeared from behind a stack of torpedoes, “Oh, hi, Andar,” She answered in an almost sad tone. “What can I do for you?”

Andar slithered across to where Lonar was. “Lieutenant, have you forgotten our plans?”

Blinking a few times, Lonar then realised what her friend was referring to, “Oh, Andar, I have. I am so sorry!”

Lowering their red-eye-like bulbs to show their slight disappointment in her forgetting, Andar nodded their head, and an almost rustling noise was made. “I understand, but you were keen to take me to a carrot bar?”

Chuckling somewhat at their mispronunciation, Lonar corrected her friend. “A karaoke bar, carrots are something completely different,” She shared before sighing. “I’m sorry, Andar. I suppose I was all wrapped up overseeing the last ordnance survey that I didn’t check the time.”

“There is still time to go,” Andar stated. “If you still want to go, that is?”

Lonar considered the notion for a moment. “You know what, Andar, I think I will.”

“That is acceptable.” They replied. “However, before we go, would you like to discuss what distracts you? What are you considering in such a deep reflection away from your colleagues?”

Lonar gave some thought to Andar’s questions. “Like a few others, I’m still not coming to terms with the captain’s death.”

“I understand,” Andar replied swiftly. “I, too, miss her presence and cheerful disposition. Her absence is like missing a branch from my family tree.” 

Smiling at hearing them speak of the captain in such a positive way, optimistic in the sense that Phylosians literally did have family trees where they grew from one another, Lonar felt a bit better. “She was certainly important to so many of us; I’m sure it will take some time to come to terms.”

“What type of terms do you require to deal with such a loss?” Andar asked sincerely. 

Lonar considered his question. “I’m not sure. I just know that it doesn’t feel right around here for me now. She was the one who gave me a chance, who supported my application to join Starfleet and who brought me into such a prestigious role for someone who is a Cardassian.”

“It has been over twenty-five years since the Dominion War ended, and the Cardassian Union has proven itself a worthy ally of the Federation, especially in the recent conflict; why do you still feel apprehensive, lieutenant?” Andar probed.

“Politically, you may be right, Andar,” She sighed, “but personally, it has not always been easy for me. I grew up in the former dematerialised zone where it was easier to be a Cardassian among Federation citizens; we were almost seen as equals. But away from that, it’s a challenge. Captain Canção was like a safety net for me. She had my back, she encouraged me, she sustained me, she was precious to me.”

“She was undoubtedly unique,” Andar added. “I recall taking one of her classes while at Mellstoxx campus; she was very intelligent.”

“I’m sorry, Andar, I promised you an evening out, and instead, here I am moping around about the captain,” Lonar said, deflated.

“It is understandable; she died on the same away mission you were on, but she knew what she was doing,” Andar insisted. “And she would want you to carry on the journey she started for you; that is how you honour her sacrifice, and that is how you carry on.”

Lonar looked at them, smiled and then nodded. “You’re right, Andar. You are spot on correct.”

“Then honour her by joining me in this karaoke bar!” Andar insisted.

“I will,” She was now smirking. “And we will sing until we cannot sing anymore.”

“That sounds delightful to me,” Andar said before they wrapped themselves around their friend to give her an assuring embrace.

Comments

  • This was a fantastic sampling of the characters of the Triton and their processing of loss. There are multiple stages on show, with Andar and Lonar just seemingly like they're starting on Andar's journey, to Naef-Oron and Uknare's discussing the 'what could have beens'. There is no easy fix for the crew in this situation and it's a journey to work through loss. This is a nice, measured approach to that and really did enjoy the read. It also served as a nice toast to Canção and the many lives at different points she touched, continuing to add depth to her character even after death.

    August 3, 2023
  • Horatio McCallister

    USS Constitution
    Commanding Officer
    Former Interim Commanding Officer

  • Thaustin

    USS Constitution
    Executive Officer
    Former Executive Officer

  • Belire Kazlaf

    USS Constitution
    Second Officer
    Chief Science Officer
    Former Second Officer
    Chief Science Officer

  • Kamra Uknare

    USS Constitution
    Chief Medical Officer
    Former Chief Medical Officer

  • Naef-Oron

    USS Constitution
    Chief Counsellor
    Former Chief Counsellor

  • Natima Lonar

    USS Constitution
    Chief Security & Tactical Officer
    Former Chief Security & Tactical Officer

  • Andar

    USS Themis
    Chief Flight Control Officer
    Former Chief Flight Control Officer