USS Resolute
Mason
Member
Blunt instrument meets diplomacy and political intrigue: Between a narcissistic diplomat, an assassination attempt and traitor in their midst, Raan Mason and the crew of the Resolute must achieve the impossible... Peace.
Sent with a diplomatic envoy to the Travorian Moons, the Resolute settles in for two weeks in orbit as the talks proceed. Babysitting is no one’s favourite duty, especially when Di Maldani is more concerned with his own image. Insulted that a mere Diligent was assigned to him, he makes no friends among the crew. However, when a double-agent aboard the ship makes an attempt on the diplomat's life, Raan must root out the traitor in his crew and, in the absence of the diplomat, take over the talks...
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Getting to know you...
1.1 DIPLOMACY IN UNSETTLED TIMES...
[Devron Shipyards,
18 January 2399, 2000 hours]
She was utterly beautiful.
Raan stood in front of the large windows, looking out onto the construction cradles. Ships of all classes and sizes, in all stages of construction, hung within them, but he only had eyes for one.
Cradle four, the nearest to him, held the object of his fascination… the diligent class USS Resolute. She was all sleek lines and gleaming panels. Admittedly, she was small, but she sure as hell packed a punch with the weaponry she had onboard. He couldn’t stop the smile spreading over his face.
The Resolute. His first command. Of a starship that was.
His hand absently rubbed over his upper arm, the tattoos there hidden by his uniform. He’d commanded before, but ground troops rather than a ship, in a war that had threatened to tear his planet apart because of one man’s greed.
His jaw tightened as he looked out at the ship before him. That war had decided his fate and set him on this path but he didn’t regret a second of it. His sister had taken his place as his father’s heir and he’d been free to travel the stars as he’d dreamt of as a young boy.
“Commander Mason?”
The male voice broke him out of his reverie and Mason turned to find himself looking at a tall, slender man in a starfleet uniform. Whipcord lean, he had a dangerous look about him that had nothing to do with the vicious scar on one cheek that disappeared up into his hairline. More, it was in the way he held himself, the awareness of everyone and everything around him.
“Commander Andrews I presume?” Raan asked, holding out his hand to shake.
He’d spent hours over the last few days pouring over personnel files. Which meant as soon as the powers that be had confirmed his command, he’d known exactly which officers he wanted. Lieutenant Commander Andrews had been at the top of that list.
Human, he had the sort of redacted file that spoke of serious combat experience somewhere no one wanted to admit to, and his specialties spoke to Raan’s command senses; both as a starship captain to be and as a ground commander. But it had been his personal statement that had really struck chords.
The man had written a comedic poem. Of course, it had been as bawdy as it had been funny, and no doubt a lot of commanders would have passed him by, immediately labeling him irreverent. But it had made Raan smile and clinched Andrews the offer of the XO spot.
“Indeed. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Andrews smiled as he shook Raan’s hand firmly. His gaze flicked over Raan’s shoulder to the view out the window. “Our ride, I presume? Thank god, she’s not a rustbucket.”
Raan’s lips curved into a smile as he turned, his new XO moving up to stand beside him. Absently he realized they were of a similar height, but he must be twice Andrews weight. Didn’t mean he’d want to get into a fight with the guy though. Andrews had that aura that said he was probably packing a concealed blade somewhere on his person. Probably somewhere no one would check either.
“She is.. And thankfully, she is not. She’s undergoing some minor repairs and…” He checked the time. “We should be able to board… actually right about now.”
Raan slid his new XO a sideways glance. “How about it, Commander? Ready to go check out our new lady?”
Andrews grinned, hefting his pack more securely over his shoulder. “Right with you capt’n. Always ready and willing to check a beautiful lady out.”
The two officers walked down the corridor, but rather than head for the airlocks as Jayce had expected, the Resolute CO turned toward the turbolifts instead. Arching an eyebrow, Jayce didn’t argue and followed Mason anyway. He’d reviewed the guy’s file before accepting the posting on the Resolute, but knowing something about someone and actually meeting them were two entirely different things.
On paper, Commander Mason had had a charmed life. Born the son of a planetary leader, he’d educated to a level colony-born Andrews could never have hoped to. Moon’s teeth, half the stuff the guy had studied Jay couldn’t even spell, let alone knew that the frall it was… his own education had definitely been more school of life before the fleet, that was for sure. There had been some mention of a war in Mason’s record, but it had been almost a footnote at the bottom before he’d joined the fleet.
Meeting him now? Yeah… someone had left a frall-load of info out. Jayce had spent most of his life on a battlefield. Mason didn’t move like a spoilt-brat VIP. He moved like a soldier, and with the muscle on him? Jayce wouldn’t want to meet the guy in a dark alley.
“Lots of ships in and out today,” Mason said as they stepped into the lift. “So I’ve secured us an alternative boarding method.”
“Very good, sir.”
They stepped out of the lift a short while later on the shuttle deck. Like the rest of the shipyards, it was crowded. People bustled here and there, a flock of engineers separating Jayce and Mason for a few moments. Jayce had to pull some fancy footwork to avoid his feet getting crushed.
“MASON!” A female voice shouted, getting both their attention. “You’re not dead yet then!”
Jayce turned, rejoining the commander as a tall woman wearing a red starfleet uniform strode over the deck toward them. The crowds parted before her, and Jayce didn’t blame them. Easily as tall as he or Mason, her bright, white hair was piled up on top of her head, and black outlined eyes that sparkled green. Jayce’s eyes widened even as the soft-whistle dropped from his lips.
“Please… tell me she’s assigned to our ship,” he muttered, only aware he’d spoken aloud then Mason chuckled.
“She is. But you’ll want to keep your hands to yourself,” the big CO advised in a low voice. “Kovash is just about as dangerous as a woman can get. Seen her tie a would be suitor into a pretzel without breaking a sweat.”
He raised his voice a little. Not shouting now as Kovash approached. “Nope, why would I go and do a thing like that and leave you here to claim all the glory?”
As Jayce watched the woman, Kovash, stopped right in front of Mason. She leaned forward, hand on the back of Mason’s neck as she brought their foreheads together. Mason did the same, the contact lasting less than a few seconds before they broke apart. It wasn’t a romantic embrace… it was more brusque than that. More like a greeting between warriors.
His suspicion was confirmed a moment later when the pair turned.
“Commander Andrews, meet our Chief helm and second officer, Lieutenant Kovash,” he said with a smile. “The lieutenant and I go way back.”
“Yeah,” Jayce’s voice was a little rougher than he’d anticipated. “Kinda figured that with the forehead thing there… I don’t need—“ He gestured between himself and Kovash and got a peal of laughter in return. Now she was closer, he could see the black around her eyes wasn’t makeup, but pigmented skin instead. Markings. They were stunning.
“Feathers no!” Kovash stuck her hand out and shook his firmly. “The verenias is a greeting between those who have faced death together. Mason is the only offworlder who is as mad as a rivan.”
Rivan… rivan… Jayce’s eyes widened. Now the black made sense. The rivan were famous for their eyrie-style cities and unpowered flight. Rumour said their parents flung them off their platforms with glider wings before they could even walk. Rumour also said they were completely and utterly insane as pilots.
Holy frall… what had he signed up for?
“Now we’re all acquainted,” Mason announced. “Shall we get moving? Our new home awaits.”
Mason hid his grin at Andrew's reaction to Kovash. He’d seen it before, many times. The Rivan pilot was gorgeous… in the way a poisonous bloom was gorgeous. Admire, from a distance, and keep your hands to yourself and you were safe. Touch without an explicit invitation, and you’d get all your fingers broken… up to the shoulder.
That smile only broadened when they boarded the shuttle, and he clocked the XO subtly checking out the tall pilot. He’d given him the warning and Andrews was a big boy, some lessons he’d have to learn on his own.
After buckling in and gaining permission from control, Kovash took off. Smoothly. Her usual piloting style was a hair this side of insane, especially in combat but given they were in the confines of the shipyard, their flight could only be described as ‘sedate’. He was beginning to think she’d turned over a new leaf, but then she looked over her shoulder at him. Her little look was all kinds of ‘see? I’m behaving’.
His answering grin fell away though as the shuttle turned and the Resolute came into view. Raan sat back in his seat, savouring the moment as they approached.
He’d had many firsts in his life, but this one, of all of them, meant something more to him. It was something he’d worked hard for. Something that hadn’t been handed to him on a platter… or that he hadn’t had to work as hard to gain purely because of his bloodline.
He’d gained the Resolute on his own merits, not because of his name.
“She looks fast.” Kovash’s voice was happy, almost chirpy. “Look at those lines.”
“You didn’t check out the class before you agreed to the assignment?” Andrews' voice wasn’t condemning, but curious as he leaned forward in his seat.
“Nope.” Kovash didn’t look at him, her attention on the controls and their approach to the Resolute. “Didn’t need to. Mason needed a pilot.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” Kovash replied, bringing the shuttle around in a wide arc for their final approach. The shuttlebay doors were open, waiting for them. “Someone needs to keep him out of trouble.”
“Yes…”
Andrews slid a glance at Mason, who chuckled. “She lies. I’m the model of propriety.”
He ignored Kovash’s snort and concentrated on the ship. “We have crew arriving for the next few days, but we should be good to launch on friday.”
Andrews perked up. “So we have enough time to explore the delights of Devron… off duty, of course,” he added quickly at Mason’s look. “Can I get access to a list of the crew and when they’re arriving?”
Mason dug out his padd out of his pocket. No rest for the wicked. “Your clearance has been upgraded. You should have access to everything now. By tomorrow we should have most of our senior staff aboard. The only one I am a little concerned about is our CMO…”
“Oh?” Andrew’s joking manner had disappeared, his expression sharp and focused as he scanned down the information on the padd. Then he paused, hand hovering over the screen.
“Yeah…” He looked up, eyebrow raised. “Are we sure this is a good idea? You do know this guy’s record, right?”
“Well… technically, he’s a girl now.” Mason pointed out. “And the sins of the father and all that.”
Andrews blinked. “Not sure that counts with Trill, but you’re the boss…” He shrugged, looking up as the shuttle touched down. “But no problem. I’ll do the meet and greets, make sure we have a crew full of happy little clams. You have more important things right now… like the ruck load of paperwork I’m told is bequeathed to all new captains on assuming command.”
Mason groaned, chuckling as they unbuckled themselves and disembarked the shuttle. “I was hoping they were joking about that.”
The Resolute hadn’t yet been released from the shipyards, so her corridors were mostly deserted, apart from a few personnel in shipyard coveralls checking over systems and consoles a last time. The bridge was dark as he stepped onto it, the lighting coming up automatically as his presence was registered.
He walked forward, savoring the silence. It was a rare sight, a moment stolen out of time, to see the bridge of a starship deserted. There was a charge to the air and, as he stood in the middle of the deck, if he half closed his eyes, he could almost see the crew coming and going.
The numerous pilots that had taken the Resolute through the stars, the myriad tactical officers that had defended her, and used her as a weapon if needed. Comms officers, ops officers… engineers. Slowly, he turned, acknowledging each and every one of them, or rather the shadows they’d left behind. All of them had left their imprint on the ship. Had become part of the Resolute’s story.
As he and his crew were about to now. To take up the mantle and responsibility of looking after this grand little lady on the next stage of her journey.
He turned around, his back to the main viewscreen and finally looked at it.
The Chair.
He’d sat in it, of course. Not this one, but as XO he’d taken the chair on the Tricerdonia more than a few times. That hadn’t been his chair though, not like this one. His gaze fixed on it, his arms folded across his broad chest.
The importance of the moment was deeply personal, and he was glad that he was alone. Apart from one person, there was no one he could think of that he’d want here with him. Despite all the indications he gave, Raan was deeply spiritual about some things. The moment a Captain dedicated himself to his ship was one of them.
It was a moment that would only come once. He would only sit in this chair for the first time once. Stepping forward, he turned, and lowered himself down. A long breath escaped his lungs, his hands sliding gently across the arm-rests.
“May I serve with honor, pledging my life to your service.” His lips quirked, the words of the llanarian premier’s vows easy on his tongue. They’d been drilled into him in childhood, but destiny had had other ideas for him.
The sentiment was the same though. He was the Resolute’s captain, which meant he was responsible for everyone aboard; for their lives and their safety. It was a responsibility he didn’t take lightly. One he would never take lightly.
He opened his eyes and looked around the bridge, at one with the ghosts of the past as he looked forward to the future.
[R’Khev Outpost
1600 hours]
“What do you mean… A diligent? JUST a diligent? Do you people not know who I am?!”
Commander Raan Mason’s expression remained as neutrally pleasant as it had before the irate bellow rang through the corridor ahead. He and his XO, Jayce Andrews, stood side by side in, if not their best uniforms, then as spick and span as to be expected for command officers newly assigned to their ship.
“Seems our distinguished guest isn’t as pleased to see the Resolute as we are to see him,” Andrews leaned in to murmur.
Raan lifted an eyebrow. “We are?” he answered, his voice low enough that the transporter techs behind them wouldn’t hear him. “I must have missed that particular memo.”
Because he wasn’t pleased to see Ambassador Tre’van Di Maldani, second of his name. Not one little bit. And it had nothing to do with the actual arrival of the owner of the disgruntled voice, who turned out to be short and somewhat portly. Given he was wearing lurid orange and green robes that had to have some cultural significance because surely no one would choose to wear that combination willingly, it made him look somewhat like a mid-winter lantern from Raan’s home planet… small, brightly coloured and full of hot air.
However, the man himself was not the problem. No… Raan had seen and dealt with enough diplomats in his time… but rather it was the mission. When they’d assigned him to take command of the Resolute, he’d breathed a sigh of relief. It was not a diplomatic vessel, not by a long shot. They were more suited to border patrol and being a tactical deterrent.
But… they had diplomatic facilities and with the situation on the Travorian Moons having deteriorated, it seemed they were being pressed into service. Raan wasn’t an idiot though. Sending a diplomat in a diligent? That was as much a message as sending the diplomat himself.
“Ambassdor Di Maldani,” Raan said as the little man bustled toward them, a retinue trailing behind him like chicks after a mama duck. “I can assure you, we are more than aware of who you are. I am Commander Mason, CO of the Resolute. Allow me to introduce Lieutenant Commander Andrews, my XO—“
He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence.
“Yes, yes… The crew.” The Ambassador swept past them with a sniff, his nose in the air, waving dismissively. “Beam me aboard. I wish to get settled. If I am forced to travel on such a small vessel, then I expect my suite to be top-notch.”
Raan bit back his growl as the ambassador dissolved into beams of light, already transporting over to the ship.
Andrews slid Mason a sideways glance. “It’s gonna to be a long two weeks.”