Part of USS Valkyrie: Episode 1 | The Flames and USS Valkyrie: Season 1

Chapter 2: Welcome Aboard

USS Valkyrie (NCC-74877) stationed at Drydock AFY-721, Avalon Fleet Yards, Alpha Quadrant
Stardate: 240107.08, 09:32
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Gabriel sat in his ready room tapping at the PADD he held. ‘Finally,’ he thought as he sighed heavily, ‘I’ve finally finished these transfer requests.'

Just as he began to relax in his seat. “Bridge to Captain Jackson,” a voice spoke through the intercom.

Gabriel sighed heavily when he heard the voice, “Jackson here,” he said monotonously.

“Sir, the majority of the senior staff has arrived aboard, also Commodore Ekwueme is hailing us.”

“Majority? Who's missing?”

“The chief of science and flight control,” they said.

“Put the Commodore through in here and have the senior staff assemble in the observation lounge in 30 minutes,” Gabriel said as he sat up in his chair.

“Yes, Sir. Bridge out,” they said as the intercom switched off and the desk screen showed the Human Commodore.

“Commodore, how nice to see you again,” Gabriel said as he faked a smile.


Sienna wandered into the conference room and checked her watch.  She was early.  She smiled as she pulled out her PADD and slid into one of the middle chairs.  The latest edition of The Olympic Journal had finally been released, and she'd just started reading the publisher's forward.  She began taking notes while waiting for the rest of her fellow crew to arrive.

Prim and proper, pristine as always, Lieutenant Commander Nisea strolled into the observation lounge exactly thirty minutes after the call had gone out from the Captain. Carrying a data PADD in one hand and a steaming mug of raktajino in the other, her pointed ears twitched upon taking her seat. There were still members of the team that she was weary of, having not properly met them yet, so she would watch them. She would watch them very closely indeed.

“Doctor Frisco,” she nodded once comfortable.

The good doctor gave her a quiet nod and returned to her journal.  The entries in this edition were startling in their investigation and revelations of the science of Frontier Day and some Borg-related studies that were ongoing.

Niala quietly walked into the room, her gaze fixed on the floor. Overhearing introductions, she gathered that at least two others were already present. Despite her inclination towards machines over people – a trait that led her to become an engineer – Niala had become accustomed to such gatherings throughout her career. She took a seat, nodding amicably at her colleagues.

Senja was next to arrive, also with PADD in hand. She took a seat that would bring the party into balance, with two on each side of the table and as she did so pushed the right side of her blonde hair behind a pointed-ear for practicality.

“Good day, everyone,” she offered, pleasantly, looking around the table with her intensely dark eyes. “Betzoid genetics being what they are, please forgive me for not shaking hands.” This was meant as information but also as an ice-breaker.

Hilea liked to arrive farther toward the start time. Coffee wasn't her favorite scent, and starships thrived on it. Sometimes, it allowed her respite in the way of seat choice; other times, it had to be endured. Nursing a large mug of Vulcan spice tea, she sat to one side, padd in hand. “Being a touch telepath,  physical contact can have unintended consequences.”

“Yes, exactly,” Senja agreed.

Niala's head tilted slightly forward, her eyes locking with those of the Operations Chief, she had a Vulcan appearance which strayed from the norm, a nod and a silent acknowledgment passing between them.

People-watching was a skill Commander Nisea had picked up many years ago, and was one especially useful for a security officer. She was able to recall the the minutest of details, even when it seemed like she was buried in a book, or zoned out from the inane chatter of a staff briefing, for example. Oh, how she hoped this meeting would begin soon.

The doors to the observation lounge opened and in walked Gabriel carrying a PADD. As he walked in he saw the faces of the people he would spreading the next chapter of his life with.

“Good morning, everyone,” he said as he walked towards his seat at the head of the table, “It is so nice to finally see my entire senior staff gathered in person,” he said as he sat down.

“If you would all state your name and position so that I can ensure you all are accounted for,” he said as he looked at everyone at the table, “I'll start Gabriel Jackson commanding officer.” 

Senja spoke next, her tone calm and her voice unimposing but firm. Her standard had a very slight accent. A linguist would pick it out as a mix of Nordic and Betazoid.

“Commander Senja Solberg. Executive Officer.”

Going around the table, the ship's tactical chief was next. “Lieutenant Commander Nisea, Chief Tactical Officer.”

Wondering why people didn't simply read the personnel files, Hilea was slightly annoyed. Not a good first start. “Hilea t'Rehu” She offered in halting Rihannsu. Switching to Standard, she added. “this is my second Federation posting. Chief Operations Officer. My last posting was doing refits on this class of ship. As humans are so fond of sayings, this is not my first rodeo.”

Turning to Nisea, she asked. "I would like to offer my services as sparring partner. Having spent several weeks in a runabout, I could use some aggressive stress relief. Perhaps some Llaekh-ae'rl?" The universal translator offered ‘laughing murder’ for the alien word. Looking over at Nisea, judging her reaction.

For a split second, Nisea wanted to chastise her colleague for being so brazen and foolish, but it didn't take long for her to sense an opportunity. "I'm sure that can be arranged" the security chief gave a single nod of confirmation whilst making a mental note to go over the woman's file again. Thoroughly. 

“Lieutenant Commander Lorra, Chief Engineer, sir.” Niala spoke, attempting to ease the tension.

At this moment the doors to the conference room opened once more. Entering the doors was a fresh young face. A Caitian. Wearing a crisp teal uniform, Lt Jg Azorius looked around the room at all the assembled faces, a little nervous.

It was his first assignment since graduating from his clinical years at the Academy and he had no idea how to act in this environment, but, it was his job to study and understand etiquette, so he knew he'd adapt. 

He walked to an empty seat and took it quietly, smiling to those gathered. “Oh, uh, hello… I'm Lt Azorius, your new Counselor, I do hope I am in the right place” he asked.

“Yes, you're in the right place, Lt. Azorius,” Gabriel said to the Catian officer.

“We are awaiting a head of Sciences,” Senja explained in her typically factual emotionless style as the Counsellor got settled. “As a former C.S.O. I shall be filling that role until we have someone. Captain?” The blonde turned from addressing the room to give the floor to the Captain for the mission brief.

“Good to have most of us all here together,” Gabriel said as he sat up in his chair, “A system on the edge of Federation space has been in a constant war for the better part of two decades. Recently they allowed Starfleet to send in relief supplies and equipment, and establish a small station on the edge of the system. Then at 08:00 hours, the peace treaty was broken. The Commissioners to the Federation were killed as well as a currently unknown amount of Starfleet officers. We've been ordered to repair any damage to the station or ships in the vicinity, and find out who or what killed the commissioners and the officers," He said as he looked around the table at the officers that occupied the space, “Are there any questions, comments or concerns?”

Frisco arched an eyebrow. Breaking a treaty with deaths usually meant injuries, and triage followed. She'd read the dossiers on her medical crew. They were competent, and some had been tested in previous postings. This mission would prove that Starfleet's work with them would be rewarded. She shook her head. The injury and fatality reports would be forwarded to her. All that was left was preparing sickbay and watching the clock.

Looking around the room, Hilea offered, “Sir, we're ready. We have to be. Down to few options, logical or otherwise. Honor demands no less.” Hilea ended with looking directly at Nisea.

“This is not about honour,” Nisea shook her head, the first demonstration to her colleagues that she was, perhaps, not their usual Romulan colleague. “This is simply about justice. These people have lost their lives, and it is our duty to bring the culprits to justice. Security should be tightened across the ship, Captain, and any away teams should be armed. Significantly.”

“I'm inclined to disagree,” Gabriel said looking at the Romulan officer, “As a former investigation officer arming away teams too much could push the culprits deeper into hiding,” Gabriel sat there not knowing what to say next. He could already feel the discourse between Hilea and Nisea wouldn't be good for anyone aboard.

“Number one,” he said turning to his esteemed deputy, “Any suggestions?”

Senja had been watching the other officers with interest since the Captain outlined their mission. The tension between Hilea and Nisea would need monitoring. Her reply was crafted with care to not intone anything that could be interpreted as criticism of any of the present parties.

“I suggest caution, Captain for the same reason you have just stated,” she responded in her typically scientific manner. “There is a potential for, as you say, driving the culprits deeper into hiding or to flee entirely and also to destabilise the situation from a diplomatic point of view. This is not a Federation system, we are guests, there is no requirement for compliance with Starfleet. Furthermore, if the culprits are aligned to one particular faction that fact alone could act as a tinderbox for more violence, between the inhabitants or towards us, or both.”

“Thank you, Number One,” Gabriel said as he turned his focus back to the audience at large. Senja's words stuck with him ‘If the culprits are aligned to one particular faction’ were repeated in his head over and over again. She could be right, there is an uncertainty that lies within this mission. For all they know this could all be a trap to lure in the Federation for an attack that could lead to war. This system has been in the diplomatic spotlight before when the Klingons were still attacking worlds and with the recent change in the Great Halls, it could be the first to fall to the growing ambitions of the Empire.

“Everyone, we're are embarking on a mission that can't be predicted so we must approach this situation with great caution," He said as he paused to let his words lay on his staff before he continued, “Commander," he said turning his focus to his Romulan subordinate, "Until we can prove that the culprits weren't one of the factions I cannot allow away teams to be armed beyond what regulation mandates. This could break diplomatic ties that are already strand,” Gabriel said as he sat back.

This mission was a disaster that even Admiral Picard would struggle with, this mission would test not only himself and his ability to lead but also the newly formed crew he had brought together. “Alert your departments," Gabriel said as he stood from his chair, “We are to depart in 10 minutes. Dismissed!” Turning to his right, “Number one meet me in my ready room in five minutes.” The X.O. looked up as she stood, hearing him address her.

“Yes, Captain.”