The rating above indicates that this fiction may occasionally involve swearing, sexual content, and violence, all within the limitations of the rating system. This has been chosen by the writer in order to allow for creative realism of the characters involved in this story. This also allows the writer to construct narratives in keeping with the framework of dialogue and actions of characters portrayed in the Television series Star Trek Picard.
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USS Fearless (NCC - 14598)
Gamma Quadrant - In orbit around the planet Teplan
“Captain's log, stardate seven-six-zero-four-seven point seven-seven. The Fearless is concluding it’s regularly scheduled humanitarian visit to the Teplan Sector. Doctor Surev and the medical research teams have completed all required assessments and routine check-ups. I am told that preliminary results appear to indicate no lingering or lasting effects from the blight. Recommendations have been made to Starfleet Medical to consider Behavioral Health interventions to address growing evidence of generational trauma. Before departing the system, we await the return of Chief Science Officer Dirral from an exploratory charting of new expansions in the Jenkata Nebula.”
Ed held his breath in pause, caressing his chin, waiting for any last minute thoughts to come forth. There were none. As a designated support vessel, all of their assignments had been simple with clear and routine objectives. Routine patrols, ferrying assignments, and humanitarian aid were perfect for this Excelsior Class vessel, specifically one staffed with recent Starfleet Academy graduates. The USS Fearless was simply a pitstop for most of the officers onboard.
“End log and submit to the record.”
Taking a deep breath, Ed settled deep into his chair. He leaned as far back as the mechanics would allow; entering fully into the quazi weightlessness which, after years of practice had turned it into a victory pose, an intentional way of celebrating the little successes in life, a ‘job well done’.
A smug grin sprawled across his face and a feeling of satisfaction settled in his gut as he reviewed the work completed on the planet below. It was good work that the Fearless was doing; work that was just as essential as front line exploratory missions, which were popular assignments among the newly commissioned officers.
Ed understood the irony of his situation and did nothing to combat the microaggressions targeting his choice of command. The USS Fearless was an Excelsior Class heavy cruiser, a powerhouse frontier explorer back in the 2200’s. Now, she was a bit obtuse in her current role supporting fleet operations. He hoped that the individuals serving aboard this vessel would see the ‘other side’ of service; not everyone had the privilege of serving on Federation Flagships. There was more to service than the stories told by recruiting officers.
=/\= Ed, thought you should know that Surev and his team have just beamed aboard; and it looks like the Stouthearted is only a few klicks from initiating docking procedures. =/\=
The relaxed candor and nonchalant tone vocalized from the communicator clearly marked the voice as belonging to his Chief of Operations and truest friend, Commander Tema Aveazun. Ed had met the half-betazoid on his first assignment shortly after graduating from the academy. It was Tema’s genuine authenticity and innovative approaches to problem solving that sealed their professional relationship; it was his dry sense of humor and concern for ethical values and that cemented their friendship. There was no question about making him first officer on this assignment, except for Tema’s refusal which centered on principle and “not being tied down.”
=/\= How is it that you know literally everything happening on this ship? =/\=
Ed chuckled, shaking head in astonishment. He was genuinely curious about this supernatural talent. Most had attributed it to his betazoid genes, but he was the first to propose his extensive number of failed relationships as proof that he couldn’t read thoughts or even remotely sense the interior feelings of others, often advising “you don’t have to be telepathic to know you messed up your relationship.”
=/\= I swear, sometimes it’s like you don’t know me Ed. I have internal sensors so sensitive, I get alerts when each of you passes gas. I mean, as your second officer, it is my unofficial duty to keep you informed of the things your XO doesn’t tell you. One day you will appreciate my talents Ed. =/\=
Ed bit his lower lip in attempts to restrain his laughter. These lighthearted moments, away from public scrutiny, were valuable self-care, a reminder of the sentient freedoms the Federation protected on a daily basis.
=/\= I already do, Commander. =/\=
=/\= Well, I am glad to see you are modeling that professional captain speak again Ed. You’re gonna need it when you respond to this priority one message from Captain Bennet; and please tell him I am tired of filling in as first officer and he needs to assign someone immediately so I can get back to doing what I do best. =/\=
Familiar with Tema’s “flash briefings,” Ed scrambled back to a fully seated position behind his desk, praying that the holo-emitter would not kick on without his expressed acknowledgement; and without warning the holo emitter flashed on before him.
The holo-emitter centered directly above the ready room cast its beams of light directly in front of his desk, forming the visage of a lifelike Captain Bennet. His holodesk was pressed against his, a philosophical gesture, created by Starfleet design teams, to breed collegial collaboration within a structured hierarchy.
“Captain Bennet,” Ed exclaimed, bracing himself against the desk, elbows dug into the metallic structure, “we didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”
Smiling at the older captain, Bennet returned the pleasantries. “Captain Langston, how are you doing?”
“No worse for the wear,” Ed replied with calm assurance in his voice. “It would appear we are finally getting a foothold out here in the Gamma Quadrant,” he added. There were many within the fleet who ‘disagreed’ with having an old Excelsior Class vessel out so far in uncharted territories; Ed wondered if Bennet was one who shared such sentiments.
“And what’s the status of the Fearless?” Bennet inquired.
“I think these are some of the best days she’s ever had,” Ed replied as a smug grin appeared upon his lips. “I have two of the best maintenance officers in the fleet and an eager crew giving 110 percent. I'd say she’ll have a few more years to live up to her name.”
Ed carefully observed Bennet’s affect as they spoke. He was searching for any sign that might reveal anything about Bennet’s personal opinions on the Fearless. There appeared to be none, further evidence that this friendly check-in involved far more than Ed was anticipating.
“Well I’m not sure if you’re aware but we’re having some issues with the Klingons.” Bennet explained. “I’ve just been given command of Task Force Seventeen and I could do with your expertise and experience.”
Ed chuckled and leaned back in his chair, both amused and pleased to hear Bennet’s seemingly genuine request. He couldn’t deny the snarky, but well-tamed tone in his reply, “I’m glad an old goat like me has something to offer. I was beginning to think I had been put out to pasture.”
“How long would it take for the Fearless to return to the Alpha Quadrant and support our efforts to deal with a Klingon problem in the Archanis Sector?” Bennet inquired.
“We could be underway within the hour,” Ed was surprised by the quickness in his response. It had been awhile since he had returned to the Alpha Quadrant. He kept apprised of the ongoing political strife, most especially anything that pertained to the Romulan resettlement...something he had hoped to rejoin...after time had settled political opinions.
“The reason I ask is that rogue elements of the Empire have been attacking our interests in the area, task force seventeen’s main responsibility is to restore our sensor detection grid along the border. Fearless’ crew, as you said, are some of the best with maintenance. Having you guys here would make a difference in getting everything back up and running.” Bennet paused. “What do you say captain?”
Ed soaked in the information and the assignment appeared to be one specifically tasked for the Fearless and her crew. Spreading the wealth of Federation Aid and support was becoming their galactic trademark, a reputation Ed was happy to maintain. For himself, personally, it was a ‘foot in the door’ and welcome entrance back into Federation space.
Nodding his head in agreement, he replied with firm intention, “Seems to fit our mission parameters, Captain Bennet. We’ll take the assignment.” He could already hear the letters from concerned parents, worrying about their children being so close to the front line of major action. Yet, it was an important lesson for any academy graduate. service to the Federation often meant standing between home and strife.
“Excellent, then I expect to see the Fearless in the sector soon. I’ll have mission orders ready for you when you arrive.” Bennet said. “Is there anything else you need to know captain before I go?”
“I’m sure we can dig up the necessary scuttlebutt on the way Captain. I would hate to keep you any more than needed.”
“Very well, I’ll see you soon.” The senior captain said with a smile. “Bennet out.” The channel then closed.
Ed tapped his fingers upon the desk as he considered the irony once again clouding his decision to bring the Fearless to the Klingon border. Once again, he and the crew would have to prove the old ship’s name true. They would have to be ‘fearless’ to stand against Klingon marauders and pirates, to bring order out of Chaos.
___________________________________________________________________
This post was made in conjunction with MJ: TF17CO.
USS Fearless - NCC 14598
Alpha Shift - 0800 hours
In Transit to Archanis Sector
Stardate 76051.75
Ed perched himself against the viewport in his ready room. He watched the streaks of blue and white light streamed by at maximum warp. It would only be a matter of hours before the Fearless would rendezvous with Task Force 17 at the Klingon border. She would be late to the ‘party,’ but a welcomed sigh of relief providing backup and resupply to the front line vessels and victimized colonists. Another tiny contribution for a brighter future in Federation space.
The chronometer beeped from the desktop tablet beside him. It was his reminder that Alpha Shift was due to start and a reminder that his presence was required at the daily briefing. Ed had learned early on in his Captaincy that the bridge crew set the tone for the vessel, and he was more than happy to let them shape Fearless’s reputation; identifying his own role as judicial in nature, an arbiter of prudential judgement. In reality, his position was ceremonial and Ed was content they let him play the part. The Fearless was truly a well oiled machine, and he was nothing more than simple grease and oil that allowed the gears to excel at their job.
“Computer. Stop alarm.”
There was little else to say as the alarm was a call to action, time to address a growing list of tasks which would require final authorizations and approvals. First on the agenda, however, was to finish his favorite blend of rich and smooth black tea which was still steaming from a non-replicated ceramic mug cradled in his hands. He was pleased that this particular task could be completed during the briefing.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The briefing room was an elegant meeting space, one of the few habitable spaces that broke free of the stereotypical Federation Gray which lined every corridor and bulkhead. Inside was an aesthetically pleasing layout filled with warm copper tones, soft white lighting, and deep cherry wood panels; all of which framed an awe inspiring view of the vast emptiness of space.
Eleven of the fourteen seats were filled by senior staff. He seat reserved at the far end of the table opposite the strategic viewscreen which displayed flashing images of Klingon ships, victims of piracy, and live updates from front line ships in the field. The two other empty seats belonged to his acting first officer and chief helmswoman, Ensign Jocelyn Zemke; both of which were standing at opposite ends of the viewscreen.
Taking his throne at the far end of the table, he gently set the mug upon the coaster which reserved his spot. He leaned back with his legs crossed, allowing his eyes to scan the dedicated faces of his assembled team. “Good morning Fearless,” he began, always satisfied with the multiple ways the ship’s namesake could be utilized to empower and build morale. “Before we jump into the reasons for our sudden and lengthy course correction, I would like us all to know where each department stands, as we may have to prioritize future actions for arrival in the Alpha Quadrant.
Chief Science Officer Dirral was the first to break the normative silence. The joined Trill was a sage of wisdom and a paragon of knowledge, with centuries of experience dwelling within the Dirral symbiont. Biologically a male in his early 30’s Dirrell was a hybrid of Trill sentience. There were days when Dirral spoke with the eloquence and distinction of an eternal being, and others when youthful follies grounded him in his identity as host. Both entities, however, were curious creatures with a hunger for exploration and adventure.
“Stellar Cartography has begun updating stellar charts to reflect change observed in the Jankata Nebula. We collected a sizable amount of data to sort through and I have a team of researchers analyzing unidentified stellar matter and other debris found on our little pilgrimage. We won’t be mentioned in any textbooks, but I am sure there is enough to add to understanding of the gamma quadrant.”
Ed could see the excitement in Dirral’s eyes and knew the goals both had beneath the humble exterior; one day both would unlock all the secrets of the galaxy...if the Klingons didn't get them first. Ed nodded affirmatively, accepting the one-sided update, adding a little of his own agenda to the duty list. “Let’s make sure we get a sentence in the new revision and secure our spot in the works cited page...and spare a few technicians to recalibrate the sensors; make it a priority before we arrive in the Archanis Sector.”
“Of course, Sir” Dirral replied with a pleased grin, “we’ll do you proud on both counts.”
Normative silence returned as Dirral sunk deep into his chair with a look of beaming satisfaction. Ed scanned for his next target, but was interrupted by Chief Engineer Alshahrani. She was a seasoned engineer with an eye for detail and systematic instruction, which Ed greatly admired.
“It’s business as usual down in Engineering Captain,” Alshahrani began, “I have Beta and Delta shifts working on routine maintenance and repairs. Right now, we are about 60% complete with annual inspections recommended by the Corps of Engineers. And, as of yet, there are no areas of concern that need to be addressed.”
Alshahrani paused and glanced towards Commander Aveazun and addressed him with dissatisfaction in her voice. “It appears Commander Aveazun’s ‘spit, polish, and duct tape’ approach to intermittent repairs has prolonged the longevity of substantial repairs.”
Ed pursed his lips, trying very hard to quell the laugher welling up inside. He understood Alshahrani’s frustration with Tema’s ‘rule book for starship maintenance’ and the positive effects it had in comparison to the recommended guidelines established by the professionals. Ed didn’t laugh, he couldn’t; it would be unprofessional and undermining Alshahrani's systematic approach. Tema’s ‘magic’ was simply a factor Ed was happy to have on their side.
“Thank you Commander,” Ed nodded in full confidence and pride. He shifted his gaze to his friend, acting first officer, and operations chief, “I expect Operations will provide support and have those power relays at maximum efficiency.”
“Don’t even worry about it Captain,” Tema replied. As usual, he appeared confident and carefree, “we’ll be running circles around those front line cruisers.”
Ed caught sight of Alshahrani rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms and scoffed at Tema’s display of what some might call ‘hubris’. Ed, however, had learned to trust his friend and colleague as he always pulled through...most of the time.
Dr. Surev, the philosophical conundrum, as Tema had labeled him because of his mixed Romulan and Vulcan heritage, shared his own assessment of the current situation on the Planet Teplan. Like Dirral and the symbiont within, Surev found a meeting point between Vulcan logic and Romulan intrigue. It was his passion for the wellbeing of every person: heart, mind, and soul.
“Overall, the people of Teplan have overcome significant cultural, psychological, and biological effects of the blight. They are truly an example of hope in the Gamma Quadrant.” Surev concluded his remarks. A genuine smile hung upon his lips, a trait he often shared came from the Romulan side.
The soft soothing tone of Chief Counselor Naigho also chimed into the discussion adding to the Doctors report. “And we will be recommending that Starfleet Medical consider sending behavioral health supports to address what appears to be growing effects of generational trauma. Providing psycho-eduation and therapeutic services will go a long way in shaping their core identity as a people, and ultimately, their future in galactic diplomacy.”
The Bajoran female was an exceptional counselor and priceless asset onboard the fearless. She was of a new generation of Bajorans, but not far enough removed from the atrocities her people experienced under the Cardassians. She brought a unique perspective to the galaxy and opened Ed’s eyes to privilege and power dynamics which often affected minorities in the Fearless and the greater galaxy. He envied her enthusiasm and zestful outlook on life and the simple pleasures. Her optimism was unparalleled.
The last to offer an update was Warrant Officer Zhang, an experienced tactician from Starfleet’s Security. Unlike the other senior staff, Zhang had worked his way through the ranks as an enlisted soldier fighting in the trenches to secure Federation Space. The two had met on assignment in their early careers and Ed was sure there was no one better qualified on the ship to manage security details and keep the Fearless’s identity as a ‘heavy cruiser’ up to par with modern design.
“She’s a lean, mean, war machine, Sir,” Zhang reported matter-of-factly. “We have a full complement of torpedoes ready for action. Monthly inventories have been counted and logged. If we anticipate any action, I would like permission to run tactical drills to ensure everyone remembers the procedure for engaging hostile and securing the ship”.
Ed nodded in agreement, “coordinate with senior staff and department heads Mr. Zhang. A refresher would do us all some good. So please, everyone, make this a priority for your departments.”
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Mission Briefing, Part I: Goal of this narrative is to introduce the bridge crew. Future narrative will provide a run down of mission specific information.
USS Fearless - NCC 14598
Alpha Shift - 0800 hours
In Transit to Archanis Sector
Stardate 76051.75
Ensign Zemke was one of several starfleet academy graduates from the class of 2398. Aside from high academic honors, she had made the most of her time at the academy as captain of the intramural soccer team, Advocate in SFA’s Student Affairs Office, member of the SFA Choral Group, pilot in Starfleet’s Elite Lightning squadron, and (the factor that sealed her fate on the fearless) Chair of the Justice, Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion (JEDI) board. She was not the typical graduate who applied for a ship like the Fearless, most applying for front line exploratory vessels. Ed felt mildly guilty for letting her onboard, as he feared her time on the Fearless would stunt the career of such a promising Starfleet Officer. She was, however, the kind of officer he searched for; having both skill and character.
Ed smiled as the young female officer took center stage by the briefing room viewscreen. Unlike many of her peers, she had the perfect blend of ambition, humility, and naivete; a curious mind and courageous spirit. She had, in her short time aboard the fearless, become the focus of attention from the senior staff and Ed’s personal mentoring project. He could see a little of himself in her, and more importantly the foundation of a great starship Captain; one that would far exceed Ed...the next Jean Luc Picard.
“I would like to thank Commander Aveazun and Chief Zhang for helping me compile the information in this morning’s briefing”. As young as she was, Ensign Zemke held the stage like a senior mission advisor. She stood with confidence, spoke with clarity, and engaged with her audience....just as he had taught her. “As you all are aware, Fearless is currently in transit to the Archanis system at the request of Captain Bennet, newly appointed commanding officer of Task Force 17. From the information we have gathered, it appears that a Klingon Faction known as the Hunters of D’Ghor have been menacing colony outposts, freight supply lines, as well as committing acts of piracy”.
Images of Admiral Beckett and his fleetwide announcement flashed across the viewscreen, followed by images of Klingon vessels as well as horrific scenes of death and destruction. Ed could hear he quitted murmuring of senior staff and hushed gasps with heads shaking in disbelief. The images were strikingly more somber than their normal humanitarian work involved. Working amid the chaos of Klingon brutality would be a new environment for the green crew of the Fearless, but certainly a task in keeping with the ship’s christened name.
“Do we know what triggered such a reaction from these...Hunters,” Counselor Naigho inquired.
“Only speculation Lieutenant,” Zemke continued, “We do know that they are operating independently from the Empire itself.”
“Sounds like, ‘distinction without a difference…’” science officer Dirral stated, dropping his fist upon the table with a soft thud. “So much for Klingon Honor; allowing terrorists to chip away at the enemy border.”
Chief Zhang leaned forward pressing his index finger into the center of the table, “it does make our job easier, sir. We won’t have to discern the Empire from the terrorists; the Empire’s fleet will be massing from behind their border waiting for their ‘honorable’ moment to strike.”
Ed tapped the table with his knuckles, his gentle reminder to everyone to cut the chatter and return focus to the topic at hand. He paused for a few seconds to ensure all had received the message and nodded for Zemke to continue.
“Intelligence has identified the leader of this faction as the youngest Son of the House D’Gor. What little we do know about him, seems to indicate a bloodlust that turns the stomachs of most Klingon warriors.” Several images of the nefarious ‘warrior’ flashed upon the screen. One did not need to be empathic or an erudite psychology to see the Klingon’s eyes devoid of empathy.
Doctor Surev gently entered the conversation, “and what of the colonists and civilians?”
Zemke nodded with a heavy breath of discouragement. “Intelligence has been unable to ascertain the effects of the Hunter’s actions within the region. The Hunter’s have employed cat-and-mouse tactics which prevent front line vessels from obtaining accurate readings.
Ed seized the opportunity to share what little else there was to say. “Captain Bennet has specifically requested our engineering talents on the front lines. We will be receiving mission objectives once we arrive in the staging area. My guess is that we will be responsible for the bulk of maintenance, repairs, aid, and intelligence while front line vessels focus on securing the sector.” Ed paused, truly concerned by his next statement, “although we will be operating in ‘cleared’ sections, I am certain that we will have to hold our own. We may very well be the last line of defense for innocents still in the sector.
Ed took a moment to honor the faces, all of them centered upon him. He empathized with the mixed emotions bubbling beneath their professional poker faces. None of them had anticipated serving this close to hostile action. Their fear was marbled by a strong sense of duty and commitment, but all looked to him for leadership. It was these moments that solidified the importance of his role as captain. Competent and capable, the crew still needed someone to call the shots and give direction.
“Counselor Naigho, I would like you to coordinate with Ensign Zemke to address morale and the psychological well-being of the crew. Let’s make sure self-care is the number one priority on every deck and department; everyone of us will need to be on top of our game at all times”.
The two nodded in agreement, sharing eager glances about the assigned task. Ed proceeded clockwise around the table, “Doctor, please coordinate with Ops and Engineering. We’ll need to repurpose our spare facilities into medical centers and habitation units for the sick, injured, and deceased.
Surev nodded in acknowledgement, “I’ll begin forming triage teams for rapid response and reserve sickbay for the most critically injured”.
Ed tapped his knuckles on the table approving the plan and continued on to the next officer in rotation. “Chief Zhang. Let’s make Stovokor proud and prepare to fill the halls with D’gor Warriors".
“We’ll be ready sir,” Zhang replied with utmost confidence displayed in his countenance.
Science office Dirral had already anticipated his turn and extended his hand letting Ed know they were both on the same page. “I’ll get to work on sensors, see if we can improve our timing in spotting cloaked vessels. Every minute is gonna count out there”.
Ed tapped his knuckles once more in approval, smiling at Dirral’s keen sense of perception and foresight. He continued on to the final two officers, “Alsharhani, keep those engines hot and at the ready. And Commander….just do what you do best.”
The ready room filled with lighthearted laughter, except for Chief Engineer Alsharhani who sighed deeply darting her frustration in Ed’s direction. He was certain that a stack of PADDs would be piled upon his desk by morning with highlighted concerns and recommendations. Ed didn’t mind that this was the case. It was the perfect checks and balance system a starship could have. Together, they were Fearless; and it would take more than renegade Klingons to take them down.
“Dismissed.”
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It was my intention to continue revealing main bridge crew personalities as well as display the culture onboard the Fearless. I would appreciate any feedback, comments, and suggestions via discord. Thank you for reading!
USS Fearless - NCC 14598
Arrival in Archanis Sector
Stardate 76053.36
Ensign Jocelyn Zemke had signed into the flight control officer station approximately 3 and a half hours ago. A significant portion of this time had been spent coordinating routine duties with Ensign Trujillo from astrometrics and Ensign Kahlil, navigator in the seat next to her. There was plenty more to her job than what was visible from the main conn station. She was utterly enthralled with her role, deriving great satisfaction from piloting, collaborating, and ‘second signing’ minor changes in trajectory. It was the privilege of the Conn Officer to give final approval and input course corrections for save and uninterrupted travel.
There was little more for Jocelyn to do for the final minutes of warp travel. She reviewed the final long-range sensor logs which contained no warnings of debris, nebulae, planetary bodies, or other potentially hazardous entities within the impulse range of the arrival zone. Satisfied that she had crossed her i’s and dotted her t’s, she spun her chair facing Captain Langston head one.
“Ten minutes till arrival in the Archanis Sector Sir,” Jocelyn announced, noting a hint of anxiety as she spoke. The bridge was filled with tension, especially amongst the junior officers. She herself had mixed feelings about their work in such close proximity to renegade Klingons. She was beginning to understand that fearlessness was not simply found in a strong sense of duty and firm resolve.
With a nod of approval from her Captain, she returned to her station. Midspin, her eyes locked with Ensign Kahlil, whose left brow was lifted in Vulcan intrigue. Jocelyn empathized with her expression of anticipation as she mouthed the letters K-L-I-N-G-O-N-S with an apprehensive grin. Jocelyn nodded affirmatively, unsure of the proper response. She returned her focus to the console reviewing checklists before arrival in sector, hoping the Klingons wouldn’t be lurking around for their next victims.
Minutes stretched like hours as Jocelyn watched the chronometer countdown to the calculated arrival time. Nearing zero, she focused her eyes upon the main viewscreen. Her heart fluttered, that feeling of anticipation growing with each breath. Next to her Ensign Kahlil had stopped breathing, as if holding her breath would improve the odds that there would be no Klingons waiting.
The streaming stars came to an abrupt halt as the viewscreen was made black, filled with the vast emptiness of space. A quick assessment of the screen revealed no objects of concern, simply dotted white lights from stars near and far.
“We have arrived in the Archanis Sector Captain,” Jocelyn announced in her dutifully matter-of-fact voice. She kept focus on her station, awaiting further orders for direction and speed.
“Sensors clean and clear sir,” called Warrant Officer Zhang from the tactical station at the back of the bridge.
A collective sigh of individual breaths flooded the bridge at the sound of ‘all clear’. Jocelyn and Ensign Kahlil shared tittering relief as they awaited further orders. The silence and delay, she assumed, coming from a stunned Captain Langston.
“A wise woman once told me,” Langston’s voice resounded throughout the bridge, “fearlessness is not the absence of fear, it is the firm intention to act with courage, bravery, and resolve in spite of fear”.
A deafening silence took hold of the bridge. The words courage, bravery, and resolve echoed in Jocelyn’s mind. It felt as though she was back at the Academy, a first year cadet consumed by the ideals of Starfleet’s exploratory and peace bearing mission. Kindled by the memory of her first days, she found new determination and zeal.
Jocelyn swiveled her seat, just enough to face her mentor without her hands leaving the conn; and with new found ardor and devotion she inquired, “course and speed Captain?” It was her simple way of acknowledging Captain Langston’s heartfelt message, an action she hoped would embolden the others to discover their own sense of duty and intrepidity.
USS Fearless - NCC 14598
“Captain’s Log, Supplemental. The Fearless remains in orbit above the planet Gallaria Three, one of several colony worlds requesting relief aid after D’Gor Hunters were reported to have ‘seized’ equipment and provisions. Presently, on the planet surface, are three teams from the Fearless’s newly established ‘Serenity Squadron;’ a collaborative effort by the senior staff to create small interdisciplinary teams for mobile crisis response. Chief Science Officer Dirral remains on the surface coordinating operations while the Fearless patrols the sector in search of the marauders''.
Ed completed another lap, pacing between the workstation and dining section of his lengthy quarters. Arriving back at the oak desk, he bracket himself with both hands firmly planted on the station. He glanced at the marbled planet just outside the wall sized viewports of his personal quarters. It looked just like Earth and served as a subtle reminder of the danger that awaited friends and family if the D’gor hunters were not stopped.
“Computer, end log,” Ed finished with an exhaustive sigh of relief. He tapped his knuckles on the desk, a trademark the crew was identifying as uniquely his own, and turned back towards the formal sitting area where Tema sat leisurely sipping a replicated Uttaberry Cider. There were very few things in this universe that could shake his friend from the heights of optimism, Tema simply took everything in stride.
“Looks like the front line is holding to its promise,” Tema voiced between sips.
Tema was also staring at the planet below and Ed wondered if he might be thinking of Betazed. He was aware that it had been some time since tema had returned home for a visit. He always said he had felt more at home in space than on his ancestral homestead. Ed pushed these curious thoughts aside and took a seat opposite his friend, pouring himself a glass of Uttaberry Synthe-cider.
“The front line appears to be thinning from the last reports,” Ed replied with anxious concern weighing on every word. “I don’t think it will be long before we find ourselves holding the line”.
“We got this Ed,” Tema assured him with a smile, “hell we’ve got more zeal, brains, and heart on this ship than any Klingon vessel could ever hope for. These kids, they’ll give it all they got when it counts. We are the Fearless Ed, don’t you forget it.”
“To the Fearless then,” Ed nodded, lifting his glass in the air.
***Bridge***
Jocelyn was slowly settling into her position as Alpha Shift’s part time Officer of the Watch. It was a task she was trained for back at the Academy, but the weight of responsibility had significantly grown since arriving in the Archanis Sector. A baseline level of paranoia had set in amongst the junior officers; a healthy dose of anticipation, as the stories circulated of stealthy abmushes and cloaking tactics of the Klingons circled the halls.
“Sir, Lieutenant Dirral reports that he and his teams have arrived on Gallaria three,” Ensign Mrerah, announced from the assigned Ops station.
Jocelyn beamed with excitement as she seized another opportunity to exercise her temporarily assigned powers. “Enter report into the log and signal message received”. She paused for a quick moment, allowing the momentous occasion to gracefully quell the gittyness inside her. “And please tell the lieutenant and his team, we wish them well.”
She was surrounded by the tittering laugher of her fellow graduates. She smiled and tittered with them, knowing exactly what each of them were thinking. They had all discussed serving on each other’s vessel as senior staff in their respective departments. The lower decks were now running the bridge. A temporary dispensation, junior officers now manned a majority of the shifts, in order to allow senior staff actually have time off. Yellow and Red Alerts were becoming more and more common as activity was increasing across the Sector
“Sir, we are receiving a distress signal,” Ensign Mrerah alerted, this time the feline officer’s voice filled with anxious growls.
The bridge was cleared of all laughter and silent chatter and all eyes were now focused on her. Her own breathing paused as a cold chill began to climb from the extremities of her body. Was it the Klingons? Maybe pirates? It didn’t matter because lives were at stake.
“Enter reception of the distress signal into the log and alert Captain langston, his presence is requested on the bridge,” Jocelyn ordered, the words flowing as if running the show was already second nature. “Play message.”
Jocelyn rose from Langston’s chair and stood patiently waiting for the chair’s rightful owner to return.
“Aye Aye, Sir,” Mrerah replied in acknowledgement of the orders. “Audio only, its a very weak signal.”
The bridge filled with static noise and frantic voices. “Kling…….pods...requesting….much time.” The bridge returned to silence.
“Signal lost Sir,” Ensign Mrerah stated, hands scrambling across the communications panel.
Jocelyn took a deep breath as checklists ran through the forefront of her mind. With a confirming nod, she rushed over to the ops station “Do we know where the signal originated?”.
Ensign Mrerah’s fingers traced upon the sensor display, highlighting two particular features. “Somewhere in the vicinity between this nebula and asteroid belt. It’s likely both are distorting the signal. We will have greater accuracy pinpointing the signal once we have arrived in the sector”.
Jocelyn nodded in approval, patting the Catian female’s shoulder. “Good work; forward coordinates to navigation and continue to track down and lock in on that signal”.
From around the corner, Jocelyn could hear the hissing of turbolift doors. The familiar voices of Captain Langston and Commander Aveazun filled the bridge with much needed confidence.
“Ensign Zemke,” Captain Langston inquired, “status report”.
Jocelyn drew a deep breath, looking her superiors square in the eyes, and ran through the little known facts. “Captain, we received a distress signal from this nearby sector of space,” she pointed their attention to the computer imagining on display. “The message is a garbled mess; Ensign Mrerah believes there to be significant interference from asteroid belt and pocketed nebulae in the sector”.
She observed Captain Langston’s nod as he confirmed with his executive officer. She appreciated the professional friendship the two had sustained throughout their careers. She noted early on in her assignment that the two hardly had to speak to know what the other was thinking. It took them only a matter of seconds to announce their agreed decision..
“Let’s saddle up,” Commander Aveazun announced, his charming and charismatic optimism filled the bridge as he moved towards his station at the forefront of the bridge.
Jocelyn could feel the smile and lighthearted laughter permeate and push aside the existential tension that had filled the bridge under the watch. Commander Aveazun’s optimistic confidence and Captain Langston’s stabilizing fearlessness grounded the crew in ways she could only hope to do in the future.
“Thank you Ensign,” the Captain affirmed as he ushered her to the pilot’s station.
Jocelyn returned to her station, relieving the Ensign currently at her station. She reviewed the information on the panel before her, locking in trajectory for the coordinates that had been forwarded by Ensign Mrerah. She turned one quarter from her station towards the captain in the center of the bridge to inform him of her readiness.
“Be bold,” Captain Langston chanted.
“Bear Fearless,” the junior officers exclaimed from their surrounding stations.
“Ensign Zemke,” Captain Langston finished his routine morale boost, “take us out”.