[USS Anaheim Bridge]

Captain Nathan Hawthorne remembered being an ensign aboard the USS Constantine, and the sense of excitement that he felt when first first ship pulled out of space dock to open space. Today did not quite capture the same sense of pride and wonder. The USS Anaheim had been at Starbase 72 twice in the last month and they were off to yet another disaster area. Still there was a sense of possibility, anytime he left for open space. Anything could happen, even if it never did. Over the years he’d seen various officers screw up leaving space dock, such as forgetting an important part of the startup sequence that left the ship unmoving temporarily. Yet his Chief Flight Control Officer Lieutenant Junior Grade Pr’Nor did not make any such error. Navigating the ship perfectly she maneuvered it beyond a heavily armed escort ship, and into the vast openness of space.

”We are free from Starbase 72,” she reported, her voice as efficient as her movements.

”Set a course for Hahana III. Take us there at warp six,” he ordered. Taking his seat from where he had paced to Hawthorne set his hands on the chair’s arm rests and said, “Engage.”

The ship leaped into warp, a move that nobody onboard could feel though the visuals were impressive. Hawthorne turned and nodded to his Chief Counsellor who he had insisted spend more time on the bridge as part of his senior staff. 

”We’re underway,” he said, perhaps stating the obvious.

”Yes we are,” Lieutenant Junior Grade Yuhiro Kolem said seriously, not quite sure what else to say. 

“This is symbolic, it’s important to people. Part of your job is to be seen, as much as it is to manage the crew’s feelings,” Hawthorne said, not entirely wrong.

Kolem nodded, “Of course sir. However I have patients to attend to, can I be excused now?”

”By all means,“ Hawthorne said rising, “I have paperwork. We’ll have a senior staff review at 17:00 to review the latest reports and meet our new friends journeying with us.”

Kolem tugged at her tunic, trying to look serious and grownup as she headed for the turbo lift and to her office. 

[USS Anaheim Briefing Room]

An older balding man was explaining what the Starfleet Civil Engineers were going to do. It was interesting from a technical point of view which meant that only Lieutenant James Young the Chief Engineer really appreciated it and not all that much given that it was not about warp engines or anything but rather damns and other vital but boring things. Still the senior staff was all uniformly polite and did their best to pay attention, though perhaps only Chief Flight Control Officer Pr’Nor did. When he was done a woman from the volunteer organization that was taking the lead on handing out disaster relief kits did a simple presentation.

To Captain Hawthorne she seemed like one of those hippies that you could still find in certain parts of New York City. The kind whose heart bleed for everyone, though they never really had any answers to the ills of the world. It was people like that who protested Starfleet for being too military focused, as if the Borg were interested in Berkeinstocks and kale cupcakes.

When she was done he took over the meeting, “Our role will be offering support, transport, and establishing some primary defenses around the colony to help prevent this from happening again. Mister Young your team will install primary canons at points, offering surface of air protection. We have the kits in the storage bay. Lieutenant Tashai’s team can offer support. The Operations team will also take point in installing three planet wide replicators for creating blankets, food, and a steady water supply while the engineering teams work to get things re-established on the ground. Basically shelter and food for everyone who needs it.”

He paused as the computer chimed with an incoming hail, it was the São Paulo’s captain, Hawkthorne answered to reveal a younger man on the screen, “Greetings Captain. Captain Reynolds here, you wished me to call?”

”Yes, we’re just doing our senior staff briefing, can you let us know what the São Paulo will be doing?” Hawkthorne asked. The other captain briefly looked like he thought this was a waste of his time but then nodded deciding to go along with it.

”We will be taking up a sector defense position. Our people are pulling out now, to let yours in. Basically if anyone comes to cause trouble we’ll chase them off,” he explained.

Hawkthorne nodded, “Thank you Captain, good luck to your team. I’ll be in touch.”

Reynolds looked like that was probably not needed but he nodded and said good-bye before ending the transmission. Hawkthorne, happy to be working with a Galaxy Class even if it was not under his command, wrapped up the briefing, ensuring everyone understood their part and in general (at least) what the other teams were doing. It was a comprehensive, and the crew had to admit, useful overview of what lay ahead for them down on the planet.

Finally the Captain gestured to his Chief Counsellor, “If any member of your teams need assistance dealing with what we’re facing down there please see Miss Kolem and her team who’ll be on hand. Now dismissed.”

[USS Anaheim – Chief Counsellor’s Quarters]

Ensign William Hume wrapped his right arm around the counsellor and pressed his face against the fabric of her undershirt. At least one of them had a private room, and did not sleep in a bunk in the hallway a rather unique factor of life on a California Class Starship. From his position on her bed where they’ve been snuggling he looked up at Yuhiro Kolem’s face, wondering just what she was thinking. Knowing that when she felt like bringing in his opinion she’s ask for his advice, he did not ask for now.

Many people aboard the new crew had coupled off. It was a factor of these deep space assignments. Until distances away from anything and anyone from your old life and without the luxury of onboard families people found each other. The crew was mainly all young, and on an early assignment in life, and had not grown that used to the constant tumult of having to be reassigned and leaving behind all that you cared about on Starfleet’s say so. Maybe they, and all the couples that were forming, were making a mistake but one had to find peace and happiness where one could. Cynically there was ’the only safe port in the storm’ but Hume tried to look at this different. Maybe nothing lasted forever, but they had today and the happiness or contentment that they could find now.

Kolem ran her fingers through his hair sitting up a bit on the bed. She had no more clue what tomorrow would bring, just a dreadful feeling that it was going to get hard from here on out. Hume was easy, demanded little of her. She would hold onto that while he could.

”You staying over?” she asked, knowing that he did not want to return to his bunk.

”You letting me stay?” Hume answered giving her a puppy dog face at the thought of being kicked out into the hallway.

”Just don’t snore,” Kolem answered, laying back down.