The Archanis Campaign: USS Orpheus
CHAPTER 1
Part of the Crew, Part of the Ship
Part 1 – The USS Orpheus
Admiral Beckett’s orders were crystal clear, however muddied the waters were with pretense and posturing. Head out in to the Archanis sector’s furthest backwaters and support the scattered colonies there by assisting in re-establishing their economy and trade networks and, if begrudgingly needed, engage the Hunter enemy in combat and present a show of force on the part of Starfleet. With an Argonaut-class vessel, calling their presence a ‘show of force’ would be like calling a single rocket a firework show.
None of it mattered to Commander Muhammad al-Haajid at that exact moment though. All that he cared for at that particular point in time was finally coming face-to-face with his new ship and his new crew, his first assignment as a commanding officer of a Starfleet vessel.
He stepped through the busy Ops center at the heart of Starbase 27, shifting and weaving through herds of flummoxed officers scrambling to organize the operation in the sector, his eyes locked on a single point. For before him and behind the busied administration stood a grand vista of Federation design, portrayed through an immense window of almost incalculable scale. Through it, the entirety of the Spacedock-class’ eponymous interior bay could be seen in all of it’s overwhelming scale and glory.
Ships were shifting this way and that behind the glass, the amber glow of their maneuvering thrusters shining through the brilliant artificial blue light of the dock. For a short period, much of the dock was occluded by the incredible sight of an Odyssey-class vessel, not three kilometers ahead of al-Haajid, moving gracefully towards the gates to leave upon its storied journey across the galaxy, like a whale majestically cruising on its great migration around the world.
As the stern of the secondary hull was passing in to view, and the blinding luminosity of the ship’s nacelles began to penetrate the glass and illuminate the entire operations section in a wash of luminous blue, the Commander approached the edge of the viewing railings in anticipation, enjoying the beauty of the moment but eager for it to pass as he shielded his eyes from the glare.
As the ship passed from view with an undoubtedly tremendous roar (the glass was entirely soundproofed for obvious reasons), a long-awaited sight and a life-defining moment had come upon Muhammad.
In that place, just across from Ops and held firm with docking clamps, was a freshly refurbished and smaller yet no less graceful and impressive Argonaut-class vessel, in all three-hundred-and-eighty-six meters of its dignified presence. The bay’s many activities cast their lights upon its saucer section, and the emblazoned name of the USS ORPHEUS, NCC-80556 shone for all to see.
There it was, the Orpheus, al-Haajid’s home and future, his responsibility and his pride, encapsulated both figuratively and physically within its Duranium-alloy hull. It was relatively small and dated compared to a number of other vessels awaiting departure around the interior of Starbase 27, but it mattered not. Al-Haajid was pleased with this aspect of his assignment, and was anxious and excited to board and be ready to be ahead on his way.
He took a few minutes just to admire the starship at a distance, smiling as he thought of all the possibilities it meant for him. The chance to visit new worlds never before seen by the Federation, to host and greet new lifeforms and new cultures, and engage in those cultures on the surfaces of their planets. In their cities, in their fields, in their villages, in their homes.
At last, with a content sigh, he pushed himself away from the railings and headed back towards the main operations area. From within his uniform jacket, he pulled out a PADD and began to read through it once again. It had been updated thanks to one of Beckett’s aides (and doubtfully with little, if any, thanks being owed to the man himself) to include information on the Orpheus’ specifications and more importantly, the ship’s senior staff roster.
The corridors and turbolifts of Starbase 27 were traversed in an absent autopilot as Muhammad headed across the winding walkways of the Stardock-class station, his eyes darting back and forth across his PADD as he inspected every important minutia of detail regarding his ship and its crew.
“USS Orpheus,’ he began reading aloud to himself, ‘NCC-80556, Argonaut-class Light Cruiser. Currently undergoing fifth refit cycle. Current crew compliment: 194. Resupply Interval: 1 Year-“
“One year?’ He said aloud to himself with a look of confusion and disappointment on his face. ‘Sounds like we’ll be puddle jumping our way across the quadrant-“
“-It’s not so bad, sir.” a voice suddenly piped in beside him.
Taken by surprise, al-Haajid’s head swiftly shot to his right. Before him was a face he had glanced at just moments prior in his crew manifest, and now here she was, in the flesh, talking and walking with him.
She was a Denobulan woman, of fairly equal height to him (he being only around 5 foot and 6 inches tall), and of a heavier build. Her face possessed qualities of both warmth and resolution, as did the tone of her voice, which was raspy and deep but upbeat and enthusiastic.
“Lieutenant Tenka, was it?” Muhammad replied after a moment’s silence.
“Yes sir. I’ll be your Chief Tactical Officer once we head out. Don’t worry, sir, I’m not one of those trigger-happy nutters who jumps the gun and starts throwing phasers and death threats at the first sign of Tal Shiar. No sir, I’m quite serious about going the whole way!”
“Is that so?” al-Haajid replied nonchalantly. In truth, he knew a reply was far from necessary. The young woman was walking with such an vigorous stride that he was almost having to jog to keep up with her, and he knew that had he remained silent, she would’ve undoubtedly continued to talk at length regardless. He really didn’t mind though. In truth, he liked it. It was always a privilege to have one so young, bold, and full of life on the bridge.
Space could be a cold, cynical, and unforgiving place. If someone can be that light in the dark for her crew and her ship, then in those moments when all hope seems lost and all is smothered in doubt and defeat, it could be her time to shine the brightest. With a warm and genuine smile on his face, he let her continue.
“Yep! I told my boyfriend and girlfriend back on Dalvos Prime not to wait for me to get married- Uh, if they wanted to, obviously! I told them I was gonna be out here for years, sir! I told them ‘space is my life, and if either one of you feel like you need to go your own way, then don’t you worry! Starfleet’ll be one of my spouses- Oh!” She suddenly caught herself.
“I’m so sorry sir, I talk-… way too much! I promise I’ll keep the chitchat to a minimum on duty! Uh-” Tenka blurted out, covering her mouth, though her beaming blue eyes conveyed the obvious embarrassment of making what she perceived to be a terrible first impression on her captain.
Al-Haajid simply continued to offer her a warm smile before turning his head forward once again.
“Well, here we are.” He gestured, raising his hand to indicate the door in front of them.
They had reached the jetway that connected Starbase 27 to the docked and clamped Orpheus. Tenka remained silent, seemingly too embarrassed to speak.
Tapping a panel attached to the bulkhead door, it opened with a hiss, and the Commander, now finding himself having to grow accustomed to the address of ‘Captain’, turned to face the young Denobulan.
Simply offering a hand to her, which she accepted cautiously, he shook it firmly and simply added “It was wonderful to meet you finally, Lieutenant Tenka.” before raising his other hand once more, motioning her to go ahead of him on the long approach to their ship.
Comments
Part 2 – Captain on the Bridge
The captain and Tenka had gone their separate ways upon boarding the vessel. She, with her personal items and packed luggage slung over her shoulder, had headed to her assigned quarters to drop off her affects before she made her way to her new post at tactical.
Al-Haajid had gone ahead and was already making his way through the corridors to the bridge. His own belongings had been brought aboard and left for him in his personal quarters, or so he was told by one of the administrative staff back on the station.
The sight of his crew all around him, debating ship functions with one another and exchanging PADDs as he passed, occasionally breaking away to offer a formal greeting and an offering of “Captain!”, filled him with an indescribable energy and exuberance, fueled by the comforting hum of the ship’s systems operating all about him, an almost living creature he was now within.
He stepped in to the turbolift, but not before being joined by a young ensign in red command colors.
“Bridge.” The young man commanded, looking up as if addressing the lift itself. The device complied, and its doors closed before it began to move.
“Captain al-Haajid, I presume?” He suddenly asked, beating Muhammad to the punch.
“Correct, ensign. And you are?”
“Oh- Zhihao sir. Zhang Zhihao. I’m the Chief Conn Officer.” The young man replied.
“That was my first posting,’ Al-Haajid responded with a slight grin, ‘I hope you’re ready to fly with the best, ensign. I was top of my class back in ’86. I even made squadron leader.”
Zhihao looked unmoved, and a cocky grin spread across his face.
“Something you want to say, ensign? Speak freely.” Al-Haajid added suddenly and sternly.
Zhang’s expression changed to one of nervous discomfort.
“With all due respect, sir, there’s more to flight than what the academy teaches. Back on Thanatos VII, me and my dad used to run the Kadepa 500, and we’d even win it!”
“The Kadepa 500? That’s a…. shuttle-rally, isn’t it?” al-Haajid responded, concerned.
“Yes sir. It’s dangerous, I know but… if you wanna really learn how to fly with the greats, you run the Kadepa.”
“Dangerous!?’ Muhammad interrupted, ‘they use bloody impulse engines on the freaking surface, ensign! You’re talking about hitting the light barrier with an audience thirty feet below you!”
“I know, sir. I’m not saying it’d be smart to do that with a Federation starship-“ Zhang began.
“-it’s not smart to do that with some tricked-out shuttlepod, either!” Muhammed blurted out once more.
Ensign Zhihao straightened up as the turbolift came to a slow stop before addressing his captain.
“Sir. I served on the Nairobi for two years as a conn officer. You have my word; I won’t do anything that’d jeopardize this ship or her crew.”
“No fancy tricks?” The captained asked quickly.
“No fancy tricks, sir.”
“Good. I’d like to make it back in one piece, Ensign. I can’t watch your dad’s qualifying runs if I’m splattered across some asteroid now, can I?” al-Haajid grinned.
“Sir.” Was about all Zhihao could get out with a massive grin before turning to leave the turbolift as it approached its stop.
The doors opened, revealing the bridge of the Orpheus. It was surprisingly spacious for a vessel of its size and class, and was well lit. In front of a series of consoles set behind a curved railing were two seats, both of which were clearly well-crafted with polished black leathers, and sported a small console on each arm.
All around the enclaved rear wall were various different consoles for different stations, and each was seeing heavy use, with an officer behind all of them working furiously.
In front of the captain and first officer’s chairs, the bridge seemed to narrow to a smooth point, with a curved view screen which illuminated heavily the two helm stations at the fore of the deck. The design of the bridge came together to form an almost arrowhead-like shape.
“Where the hell have you been, ensign!?” a sharp and terrifying voice suddenly belted across the room towards Zhang as he left the turbolift for his station.
Though al-Haajid had apparently slipped her glance, Ensign Zhihao froze in place, looking back towards the source of the voice, stunned. Across the bridge from him stood an irate-looking Andorian woman. She was exceptionally tall, having almost an extra foot in height on the Captain. Her body was toned and slender, with her long sky-blue fingers balled in each hand, forming two aggravated fists. Her two antennae twisted and gestured furiously atop her head, pointing this way and that defiantly from above her long, curling alabaster hair, which was shaved around the sides and back and swept stylishly to the left.
“Uh! I was just-“ Zhihao began.
“-This had better be a damn good just, ensign! You’re fifteen minutes late!” She yelled again.
“I was just meeting with the Captain, sir!” he blurted out suddenly.
The Andorian’s eyes widened, her head jerking suddenly towards the older Iraqi man who had just entered the bridge with the young ensign.
“What the—Nobody bloody told me the Captain was on board! Evanson, why the hell didn’t you tell me!?” She continued to holler, her voice not dropping a single decibel.
“With all due respect, I’m not a fucking alarm clock, sir! I’m busy!” a Welsh man’s voice suddenly retaliated from behind the operations console.
“How dare you speak to me like that, lieutenant! When the captain arrives on deck, it is your job to say ‘Captain on the bridge’! Don’t you give me that attitude with your-” The Andorian continued.
Al-Haajid cleared his throat loudly, interrupting the tirade and with a clear intent to garner attention.
“You two,’ he began calmly, pointing to the Andorian woman and the Welsh man sequentially, ‘my ready room, this instant.”
The captain then led the way in to a small room just to the side of the main area of the bridge. Its doors hissed open and he entered, followed by the two considerably taller officers, the Andorian of which nearly scraped her antennae across the frame.
The three of them entered a surprisingly barren room. Save for two chairs and a rather sophisticated looking curved desk, the space was practically spartan in its appearance. The smallest of the three officers, the captain, span on his heel suddenly, facing his two subordinates.
“What the hell was that all about!?” He shouted, rhetorically.
The other human and the Andorian woman both remained silent, straightening up a measure and swallowing, clearly showing discomfort at being chastised in their first meeting with their captain.
“As you can see, this room’s pretty empty right now. That’s because I hadn’t planned on using it the moment I stepped onto the bridge! Explain yourselves, go on!”
Al-Haajid swung his arm up, gesticulating firmly and furiously as he spoke.
“I apologize sir, it won’t happen again. We just wanted to make sure everything was ready to go when you got here. The Orpheus’ refitting has been rather, uh… rushed, shall we say. It’s been difficult getting everything brought up to standard.” The other human, dressed in the yellow colors of the operations department, responded.
Muhammad paused for a moment, considering his apology and seemingly ignoring the Andorian, who remained silent.
“You’re lieutenant Evanson, right? Chief operations officer?” He asked him in a calmer tone.
“Yessir. Dafydd Evanson, lieutenant junior grade.” The tall Welshman responded.
Al-Haajid paused again. The silence seemed raise a great deal of awkward tension between the three, a purpose deliberately served.
“What’s our status, lieutenant? How fit are we to fly?”
Seemingly thrown off by the innocuous question, and the conversational shift in to territory he was far more comfortable with, Evanson’s jaw slacked in to a gormless expression of confusion before he quickly brought himself around.
“Well sir, deuterium tanks are at full capacity and fully contained. The navigational array turned up accurate close and long-range telemetry in every test. Thrusters are operational, impulse drive is fully functioning, warp engines are reading nominal, replicators are functioning as normal, and that little light that comes on in the toilet when you wake up for a late-night piss at 0200 hours is suitably blinding.” He read off the PADD he’d had clutched under his arm, before crossing them as he reached the last item.
Al-Haajid smirked, amused.
“Very good, lieutenant. Back to it, if you please and-‘, he paused, flinching his head ‘don’t let me hear you talking back that way to any officer on this ship, Mr. Evanson, superior or subordinate. Is that understood?”
“Uh, yes sir.” Evanson nodded back, turning to leave as the doors to the bridge hissed open and closed again. The captain strolled casually to the rather simple-looking swivel-chair behind the desk. He slumped in to it casually before gesturing to the one across from him.
“Take a seat.” He began. The Andorian woman, who had been silent and still the whole time and whose face still carried a semblance of irritation and frustration, followed instruction and sat herself down. Her antennae seemed to be turning cautiously in random directions again.
Muhammad picked up a PADD from his desk and tapped the screen a couple of times before starting to read aloud.
“Lieutenant Commander Thy’tera Veliss,’ he began, ‘Chief Security Officer aboard the USS Marseille, eight years’ service. Chief Operations Officer on the USS Müller, three years’ service. And now this is your first assignment as an executive officer, your first time in a chair of your own, hmm?”
“That’s right, Captain, but I fail to see what this has-“
“And you think this is acceptable behavior from a senior officer, Ms. Veliss?” al-Haajid interrupted, leaning back on his chair and casually swiveling it and rocking it back and forth as he spoke, his right leg crossed over his left as his eyes locked on hers.
“Sir?” She responded.
“I’ve sat where you’re sitting now, Commander. I served as first officer on the USS Tokyo, a Manticore-class heavy escort on the edge of Cardassian space. At any given time, I was responsible for the lives of over two-hundred-and-fifty people. It was my job to be a leader in their eyes, and see them through ship-to-ship combat that’d make even your blood freeze over. It was my job to see to it that the will of my captain was enacted, even if I disagreed with her decisions. I was an advisor, a warrior, and a commander, and I put on a brave and calm face when needed, even if, inside, I wanted to shoot everyone and everything in a fifty-foot radius with a phaser set to vaporize if it meant getting a moment’s peace. That was my job as a first officer, Ms. Veliss, and now it is yours and I will tell you that for all that the first officer’s chair is incredibly comfortable, it can be the worst seat in the house sometimes. Now, I need to know that I can rely on you when the chips are down, so to speak. I need to know that your advice is sincere and in the best interests of this ship and all those that serve aboard it, even those you can’t personally stand. I need to know that when I make my intentions clear, you carry them out and see them made manifest. I need to know that when I’m left, lost and dying on a barren planet in the middle of uncharted space, that I can rest peacefully, relieved of all conscious burden knowing that the Orpheus and her crew are in the safe and capable hands of a woman I trust. Can you be that woman, Commander Veliss?”
Veliss felt emboldened by these words, and a renewed sense of duty seemed to fall upon her. She sat up straight and looked her captain dead in the eye.
“I am that woman, Captain al-Haajid. I let my frustrations and anger get the best of me and I lost myself in the minutia of unimportant detail. I’m sorry, and I’ll accept the responsibility for what I said, but I want to do right by everyone on this ship. Zhihao, Evanson, you, everyone.”
“Very good, Commander. I’m glad my feelings about you were not misplaced, now le-“
At that moment, everything aboard the Orpheus seemed to instantaneously shut down. The lights in the ready room shut off, leaving it almost pitch black save for the dim blue glow of the Starbase outside the window. Al-Haajid and Veliss suddenly found themselves floating from their seats for a moment towards the ceiling, and the air became deathly cold very quickly. Then, as swiftly as this disorientating experience began, it ended with a rising hum of systems sequentially coming back online. The two senior officers suddenly found themselves slamming on to the desk with a grunt and yell.
Veliss pulled herself up enough to tap her badge.
“Veliss to Morat. What was that!?” she asked, assertively but clearly more emotionally in control compared to her prior outburst.
“Sorry about that, Commander! We’re trying to work out a few tweaks in the EPS grid and, well, it went a bit, uh…. Wrong.” A man’s voice responded, sheepishly.
“Wrong? Wrong how!?” Veliss responded.
“I’d better head down there. Please stand by.” Al-Haajid added, straightening himself up once more and brushing off his uniform.
“Well, Commander. I know we’re not flying anywhere just yet but… you have the bridge. Time to see if we’ll be moving at all this month.” He nodded at Veliss, stepping out of his ready room in a hurry.