—- Holodeck 1 ——

Hume watched Commander Cruz leave in a cloud of (not literal) Spanish language curses and was left alone with the Captain who was still dressed as a British Naval Captain from the age of the sailing ship and pirates. The Captain waved Hume up to the giant wheel which he used to steer the holographic ship in order to better talk without yelling at each other.

”Do you know knots, you look like someone who knows knots,” Hawthorne asked and pointed at some thick rope, “Tie that sail up if you do.”

Lieutenant Junior Grade Hume nodded, and began to tie the sail as directed.

”What’s on your mind?” Hawthorne asked, steering the simulated ship.

Hume continued working on the rope and answered, “Well sir I’m been thinking of asking Lieutenant Kolem to marry me and since you know us both I wanted to get your advice.”

Hawthorne nodded. Hume stuck him like himself, as a sensible traditional guy. Open perhaps to change but comfortable in the world where maybe being like them demographically was an advantage. Like Hawthorne, he was probably too comfortable in his privilege. To use a term of art that roughly translated into what Cruz had said louder and in Spanish.

”Because clearly I know women,” Hawthorne joked.

Hume glanced back at the disappeared arc, not knowing what the senior officers had been fighting about. No human relationships were easy, and he did not want to get involved in a fight between the USS Seattle’s Captain and its First Officer regardless of what it was about. 

“I don’t know about that,” he said.

”You know she’s right,” Hawthorne said, “Cruz, not Kolem. Well she’s probably right about something too. Cruz though pointed out how insulting it is that in my free time I want to play Captain, when it’s just easy for me to play whatever I want because throughout history we’ve been the winners. Guys like you and me. You know.”

Hume, certainly did not feel like a winner but then again he knew what the suggestion was. He nodded, wanting very much to agree with the Captain. Getting to agree with the First Officer too was an added bonus.

”I think Hume you should definitely not listen to me,” Hawthorne said, “I know Kolem has no father and you think that I’m some surrogate for her, but I’m not. I’ve never been a father figure for her, or anyone. I just fly a ship for work. Kolem and you just work on it.“

Hume nodded as he tied, he understood that, but Hawthorne was an authority figure and without Kolem having a father to ask if he could marry her, having one of the other ‘adults’ in her life made sense to him but then when Hawthorne explained it he also understood that this was not a role that Hawthorne had taken on. He just felt like a ship was a kind of family, and that meant that Hawthorne was sort of like the father they all had.

”Who do I ask for advice then,” William Hume asked finishing off tying on the sail as asked.

”Ask around, but don’t think anyone knows what you should do more than you. Besides Kolem seems, emotionally stable,” Hawthorne said, “Grounded maybe is a better word. I think she’s who you should talk to since she’s the other person in this equation.”

Hume nodded, “Okay, you’re right.”

”Of course I am, I work in a space ship,” Hawthorne joked, “My one piece of advice is that don’t let this situation with the Borg change your plan either way. It’s temporary, and you don’t want to be making big important life decisions because of what the Borg are up to. We have one of the fastest ships around, we’ll get away. Got it.”

Hume nodded, “I think so sir, thank you.”

—- Conference Room 1 ——

The Senior Staff had assembled to hear the plan that Strategic Operations had developed for their current situation of being chased down by a Borg Cube. They settled in their chairs around the conference table while Lieutenant Eleanor Dorian put a map up with the region of space they were in. Given that this was unexplored it was mostly empty, filled only by rough sketches that Starfleet had gotten from traders and various no–affiliated sources. 

“Coming up is a system that interests us, based on reports. It’s a system with binary stars, an astroid belt and an uninhabited moon roughly here,” she indicated a dot on the map. He thick Irish accent felt thicker now to her listeners as she indicated just how they would survive, “About two days from now we go to warp nine-point-nine. This should increase our lead on the Borg slightly. We stop at this moon, fly the transponders down with the Soundgarden and then we position ourselves in the astroid belt.”

Lieutenant Claudia Jara was her Assistant and took over, “The astroid belt gives off various radiations that will hide a ship, as long as we cut power. The Borg should be unable to see us. We wait until they leave, and then we start heading home.”

”What’s Starfleet say,” asked Lieutenant Debub, the Chief Science Officer.

”We have reached the point where communication with Starfleet is no longer possible due to the vast distance between us,” Dorian said “Messages will take about a week to arrive, two way communication is not feasible at this juncture.”

”Whoever is dropping off the transponders is going to have to hurry, the Borg are only about an hour back,” Th’kaotross said, the Andorian Chief of Security knowing just how close the Borg were at all times now.

”We hope Pr’Nor can buy us some time when we got to warp nine-poin-nine,” Dorian said, “But yes, there is a chance that the Soundgarden is lost. And its crew.”

Captain Hawthorne nodded, “I’ll accompany the Soundgarden and the away team. We’ll unload fast.”

Commander Cruz objected, “Sir, you can’t, you’re the Captain.”

”Starfleet is out of communication range, I can,” Hawthorne said, “I’m not risking crew lives while I hide in an asteroid belt. We’ll be quick we won’t even see the Borg. Debub, your team will handle this. Brief them and get them ready.”

Cruz shot him a look that said this conversation was not over, but did not want to argue in front of the crew. Hawthorne hearing no more questions clapped his hands, “Okay that’s the plan, we’ll get ready for the leap to warp nine-poin-nine in two days, Young you’re on that.”

”Sir,” the Chief Engineer nodded, not quite happy that his engines were again being pushed to their limits, but knowing that this was a good plan, and not just running helter skelter away from the Borg.

—- Ready Room ——

“Coffee?” Captain Nathanial Hawthorne asked his first Officer as they entered the Captain’s Ready Room. He went over to his counter to grind some beans, a deliberately old fashioned act that drove Cruz crazy when perfectly good coffee was available from the replicators at any time.

The door slid closed, and Cruz did not try to hide her annoyance with him. She’d never had a captain that she’d been freer to tell him what she thought of his ideas, including the very bad ones and him racing out to deliver transponders with the Borg also racing to get them was a very bad idea.

”I don’t want your dumb coffee,” she said, “I want you alive. What are you going to do, play the hero and leave me and the rest of the crew standard out here because you got yourself assimilated?”

”Maybe you were right in the Holodeck, the universe has enough Captains like me. It needs more like you,” Hawthorne said.

”Oh stop feeling sorry that your girlfriend got mad at you over your games,” she said, “I didn’t mean for you to immediately run off and be killed by the Borg. Just don’t play a colonizer on the holodeck Captain Cook.”

”He discovered Hawaii,” Hawthorne pointed out.

”He did,” Cruz said, “And the Hawaiian people living there who were surprised to be discovered.”

”We should go to Hawaii, next shore leave, it’s nice,” Hawthorne said stepping towards Cruz who in turn stepped towards him until their toes were touching.

”Don’t try changing the subject,” she said.

”Say yes, we’ll go to Hawaii and then I’ll be extra sure now to get assimilated,” Hawthorne said, “But I’m going down with Lieutenant Debub and what’s her name and whose their pickle.”

”We have ninety-two crew members, you should work on learning names,” Cruz said, “And I feel like you’re getting both your ways here.”

”I am, but then I’m the Captain,” Hawthorne said and then pulled her the remaining inches to him.

Cruz kissed him, she knew that he’d made up his mind. That no matter what she tried he felt that this was how he made up for Fleet Day and being a coward then. It was the Borg again, and it was either Hawthorne or someone else and if she was rational about it Hawthorne was the only crew member who could be replaced.

—- Nine Forward, Lounge —-

Lieutenant James Young entered the lounge looking for his date. They had agreed to meet at the lounge since it was hard to capture everything about a regular date here on such a small ship. Walking from her quarters did not feel the same, and this hopefully caught some of the anticipation and novelty of having a real date in a real location that was not one of three or four places he always went.

Doctor T’Rala was wearing a dress that likely was too fancy for the occasion, but caught his eye. He smiled, blushed and then walked over.

“You look nice,“ the Romulan said.

”I had to replicate a suit, I haven’t worn one for years. A uniform usually is enough,” Young said. The Starfleet Uniform had enough variations that civilian clothing was not needed. He’d only really gone with a suit because T’Rala had mentioned that she was wearing a dress tonight and he did not want to be on the wrong foot. Though given how amazing her dress looked he felt that he was anyway.

”How was work?” he asked.

”Fine. Va’Tok was lecturing me on the mating rituals of illogical species. He seems to think the USS Seattle is the horniest ship in the fleet,” she smiled.

”We’re young, almost all of us. We’re risking our lives and we’re not with families, it’s natural,” Young said.

Mimicking her Vulcan Chief Medical Officer T’Rala raised an eyebrow, “That is logical.”

“I feel like this tie is chocking me to death,” Young said.

”Maybe it is, what away to go. You survive the Borg and a tie gets you,” T’Rala said.

Young smiled, “Okay I’ll settle down, I promise.”