Mission 22 - Getting Reaquainted

[Kersare]

ON:

<<DS9, Promenade, Day 1, 1115>>

Having just arrived at Deep Space 9, Isabel first made her way to the Promenade. The ship she'd come on, the USS Atlantis, was early and she had some time to kill before she expected back on her ship. She found a railing above the main part of the Promenade and rested her forearms against it, quietly watching people bustle about. It had been about two months since she was here last, but little had changed.

The past year had seemed so long. Following their shoreleave on Betazed, the Malinche had been sent to patrol along the Cardassian Border for two months - technically they were sort of 'on loan' to Legacy Fleet, as they had been short staffed. At the end of their patrol, however, the Malinche as officially reassigned to the relatively new fleet group. It had been determined that the Malinche could use a refit and was therefore sent to Antares Ship Yard for the ten month long job.

Of course, not everyone wanted to stick around and wait for the Malinche to be back in action. Isabel had lost several senior staff members to transfers, as well as some of the enlisted crew and non-senior staff in general. However, quite a few had decided they wanted to stay. Those who did were given temporary assignments - working on the refit, working on the starbase or an attached garrison ship, and other various work.

Isabel herself had stuck around for the first month of the refit, going over plans, making some choices, and helping out in general. The engineer in her was excited to be involved. However, she had received a request from StarFleet Academy to teach a course or two remotely. At the time it sounded intriguing and she accepted. The experience was rewarding; Isabel enjoyed her students and felt that she had a lot to offer them. At the same time, it was interesting seeing what they came up with and hearing their perspective.

A month ago, Isabel and Derek (PNPC) took time off to go see their families. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a chance to do so and really spend time with them. Part of her had wished she could have stayed longer, but Isabel wanted to get back to the Malinche. The refit was nearly complete, so she could see where they stood and make sure any last minute issues or changes were taken care of. Plus, some of the new crew was already arriving or was due to arrive soon.

Although perhaps not entirely surprising, Nora had decided to stay on as the Malinche's Executive Officer. Isabel was relieved and glad to know that her friend would still be there with her on the Malinche. The two had become close friends over the years and it simply wouldn't have been the same without her. They had a lot of catching up to do. She hadn't heard exactly when Nora was supposed to arrive, but hopefully they would be able to meet up when she did.

Straightening, Isabel moved away from the railing. Perhaps she would find some lunch on the starbase and wander a bit more, then head back to the Malinche in the early afternoon. Isabel was anxious to see her ship, but she also knew those working on the refit were probably scrambling to finish up a few things before she arrived. With a faint smile on her lips as she thought about her ship, Isabel headed down the stairs to the Main Promenade.

OFF: Feel free to go ahead and post. If anybody has questions, please ask.

Possible tag to Zeral?

[Brex]

ON: [[Promenade, Deep Space Nine, Mission Day 01, 1148 Hours]]

Aiden (PNPC) had been looking forward to visiting Deep Space Nine for several days. In fact, it had been on his mind ever since he'd learned that's where they would be meeting up with the Malinche. Now they'd finally arrived.

From the moment Aiden stepped through the circular airlock, he could tell there was a certain energy about the place. The Promenade itself was bustling with all sorts of people. Some were clearly on their way to somewhere else. Others seemed to be milling about the various establishments or simply enjoying the atmosphere. It wasn't just the people around him, though. This was the center of the Bajoran sector. This was where history had been made.

"They'll run us over if you don't keep moving," a voice said in his ear.

The sound caused Aiden to glance back over his shoulder. Just to his right stood the young, dark-haired Bajoran who'd spoken to him. Aarden Ren (PNPC). Seeing him was enough to bring a smile to Aiden's face.

Unfortunately, there wasn't time to savor the moment. Ren was right about getting run over. There were others standing behind him. They'd all come from the same transport and were waiting to board the station so they could get on with their business there.

So Aiden moved forward. He fell into step with those already on the Promenade. Slowly, they began making their way clockwise around the circle past various shops and establishments. They continued this way for several meters before finally coming upon a small, recessed area where they could stop without being in the way.

Aiden took advantage of the opportunity to take in more of their surroundings. Things were not quite so crowded now that they'd gotten away from the airlock and he was able to see more of the Promenade itself including the much quieter upper level that ran above them. Part of him wondered if there was a lift or something that would take them up.

"There should be a staircase ahead," Ren offered, "just past the next airlock." He'd seen the way Aiden looked toward the upper level and realized his partner might be more comfortable above the crowd, at least until they got their bearings.

"I'm fine," Aiden replied. He offered Ren a grateful smile, then hitched the strap of his travel pouch higher up on his shoulder. "Where to from here," he asked.

Ren shrugged. There were a few things in particular he wanted to see before they left the station, but it didn't matter to him what order they saw them. The Malinche wasn't scheduled to leave for several days yet. That would leave them plenty of time to explore after they'd checked in.

"How about food," he suggested.

"I'd be okay with that," Aiden said.

Ren stepped back into the flow of traffic followed closely by Aiden. The two of them began making their way further along toward the Replimat. Once they'd had a chance to eat, then they’d be able to explore a little before reporting in.

OFF:

Lieutenant JG Aarden Ren (PNPC)
Engineering Officer

and

Ensign Aiden Rowe (PNPC)
Science Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

Played by:

[Tournneau]

ON:
<<USS Rubicon NCC-73024 – Day Minus 14 – 1934 Hours>>

Derek sat at the library access terminal in the Rubicon’s aft cabin, poring over endless ship schematics. He was hunched over the console, his left hand propping up his head, and his right hand holding two datapads, each of them displaying their own litany of equations and log entries. Behind him, seated at the table, the other three officers and a civilian tech that were also booked on this journey were playing another hand of poker.

"Computer, restart oration of this section," Derek mumbled at the screen.

"Introduction. The Prometheus-class warp field is generated by an experimental, multi-core system. The field tensor is characterized by a hybrid static-dynamic subspace field while the vessel is in its Integrated mode. Section One: Alpha Core. The primary hull houses a tertiary warp assembly...."

The computer politely droned on, continuing its speech as the screen highlighted the relevant sections of the ship. As the library console continued its presentation, Derek idly thumbed through one of the PADDs in his hand; this one contained the mission debriefings of the USS Malinche.

I figure I should know something about what this ship’s been through over the past few years, Derek thought to himself. He continued looking through the notes on the PADD.
He glanced back up at the screen as the computer said something that grabbed his attention.

“…Section Four: Warp Plasma Harmonics. In order to properly stabilize the three disparate warp fields, auxiliary warp plasma conduits are opened between the three sections when operating in Integrated mode. These bypass channels allow for a balanced redistribution of power and frequency between the six warp nacelles, as well as the EPS distribution systems of each hull. The conduits are shielded by…”

“Computer, pause narration,” Derek interjected, “Display conduit schematics.” The computer bleeped warmly and gave Derek an expanded view of the system in question.

This must be the tenth time I’ve looked at this system today, but it’s incredible. It was either a genius or a lunatic that thought this up, Derek mused.

On paper, the two lower engineering hulls of the Malinche, Beta and Gamma, provided a nearly identical power output. In practice, because the two hulls were powered by vastly different core assemblies, the balance between them required constant and watchful calibration. The smaller core in the third hull could be used to reinforce the warp field, transfer additional energy to the primary nacelles or other systems, and engage as a warp sustainer upon separation.

This monster is every engineer’s dream – I still can’t believe it’s mine – well, mine to run and maintain, anyways. Derek thumbed through the other PADD, this one containing the complex field integrals necessary to keep the ship moving. I wouldn’t say I’m in over my head, but I will certainly say that my abilities will be tested. I haven’t studied this hard since the last time I was in the Academy.

His musings were cut short by the hiss of the compartment door opening. The young ensign piloting the runabout, Daniel Foster(NPC), entered the cabin.

“Good evening, gentlemen – we’re about to enter the Bajor system. We will be landing at Deep Space Nine shortly. I thought you might like to come to the cockpit?”

“Yes, thank you Daniel,” Derek replied as he tucked the PADDs in his thigh pocket and stretched his arms upwards. “I will be up there in just a moment.” Two of the other officers put their cards down on the table and headed for the door, while the other two continued on, intent of settling their current stalemate. Derek followed the first group through the central compartment and into the cockpit.

The other two passengers were standing at the podium console, freshly replicated coffee mugs in hand, idly chatting about their next assignment. Derek smiled at them politely as he took a seat at the navigator’s station behind the two pilots, who were both making the necessary preparations to drop out of warp. The pilot activated the comm panel, and the computer chimed accordingly.

"Deep Space Nine, this is Ensign Foster of the USS Rubicon, requesting permission to drop inside the perimeter and land immediately.”

“Rubicon, this is Deep Space Nine – you are cleared to drop inside the traffic perimeter on your current heading and make for landing pad five. Welcome home, Ensign.”

“Thank you DS9, Foster out.” Daniel turned to his co-pilot. “Start staging us down – we’re entering the Bajor system now.”

Derek looked at the astrogation display at his terminal and sure enough, the ship’s icon was now passing through the outer planets of the star system. The hum of the ship’s warp drives began to lower in pitch as the vessel began to slow for its drop back into normal space. Derek looked through the forward viewports as Foster began to count down.

“Disengage warp speed on my mark – three, two, one, mark.” The ship vibrated slightly as the light streaks condensed into a bright flash, which was replaced by the rapidly approaching station. Deep Space Nine stopped growing in size once the runabout reached maneuvering speed twenty kilometers away from the station.

The space around the station buzzed with activity. There were several planetary transports leaving the station for Bajor, and the docking ring was lined with merchant vessels. Two of them were turning towards open space, heading for their destinations. Derek’s eye followed the curves of the station’s docking pylons to the whole reason for his trip – the USS Malinche was berthed, its angles contrasting sharply with the soaring arc of the pylon it was attached to.

The pilot whistled in awe. He turned his head back towards Derek. “Well, Commander, she looks like a fine ship. I envy you!”

Derek looked down and smiled. “Thanks, Daniel. I agree – she is a fine ship. I’d envy me, too,” he chuckled along with the others in the cockpit. He kept his eye on the Malinche’s form as long as he could as the runabout made its maneuvers to the landing pad.

<<Deep Space Nine – Landing Pad 5 – 2002 Hours>>

Derek strode down the gangway, a satchel across his shoulder and a small suitcase in hand. The rest of his personal effects were in crates that would be beamed over to his quarters. He had been crammed in the runabout for over a week, and aboard another starship for two weeks before that. Derek was looking forward to getting settled in his cabin and taking a long, proper shower.

He came to the end of the ramp, where a Bajoran deck officer was handing out billeting information to the others. Derek shook his hand and introduced himself.

“Hi there, Lieutenant Commander Tournneau, Malinche.”

“Ah yes, I have your assignment right here, sir,” the officer affirmed as he handed Derek a datapad. “You are in the Habitat Ring, Section 12, Suite B.”

Derek stared dumbly, first at the datapad and then back at the officer.

“Ah, I’m sorry, but I’m assigned to the Malinche. I’m her new Chief Engineer,” he emphasized. The deck officer looked down sheepishly, then drew himself up to answer Derek.

“Err, yes sir, I am aware of that. Unfortunately, as the Malinche is still being finished up, some of her compartments are being…otherwise utilized.” The Bajoran seemed to steel himself for the next sentence. “According to the quartermaster, your quarters on the Malinche are currently being used as – well, storage.”

At this point, Derek was too tired to get angry. Besides, it wasn’t this guy’s fault. He sighed resignedly and asked, “Storage for what, exactly? They didn’t get my itinerary?”

“Apparently, ‘unassembled fabrication’ – looks like furniture and bulkheads as they finish off the crew quarters. They have promised to have the room clear and set up by the end of the week. Ah, would you like me to have your belongings sent to your quarters here on station until then?”

“No, that’s all right – just put it in storage.”

OFF

[Brex]

ON: [[Turbolift - Upper Pylon Two, Deep Space Nine, Mission Day 01, 0635 Hours]]

An open-faced turbolift car rose quickly through Upper Pylon Two. It was mostly empty except for three individuals: an enlisted technician and two Starfleet officers in services gold. One of the officers, a Denobulan lieutenant, carried a small travel bag. He stood to one side of the car with his left hand wrapped around the short horizontal bar for stability. Ahead of him, white lights whizzed past.

Brex had only arrived on Deep Space Nine less than an hour prior. Personnel transport from Starbase 257 had been fast, but it had still taken nearly a week-and-a-half, not that he’d minded. The trip had given him the opportunity to brush up on a few things, relax a bit before turning his attention to a new assignment. Now that he was here, though, it was time to focus.

First, Brex would have to meet with the quartermaster to confirm that he’d actually received assignment to quarters. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d seen something like that fall through. The next step would be to actually stop by his quarters to at least make sure his belongings had been beamed over from the transport. Only then would he feel comfortable tracking down the appropriate people so he could report in. He knew there would be plenty of time for exploring later.

Derek Tournneau was leaning in the corner of the turbolift, half-seated on a large plastic case, writing on a datapad. He was working on some of the field metrics for combining the three different warp fields of the ship. He was still encountering a small instability when adding the smaller static field while in Integrated mode.

Tournneau had been on the lift for about five minutes - he had boarded from the other side of the docking ring. The last set of spare bio-neural gel packs had come in on a transport, and no one else was available to retrieve them. As such, he had already shared the carriage with several other people who had come and gone. However, with the recent change in direction, Derek realized that the people on board must also be en route to the Malinche. He looked up and saw a Denobulan Lieutenant standing on the other side of the lift. There was a rather attractive Bajoran woman between the two of them.

A flash of recognizance entered Derek’s mind. He opened up the crew manifest on the datapad - the other man in the lift was a fellow senior officer on the Malinche! Wow, great interpersonal skills, Derek. Way to be alert. Better try and not look like you’ve had three hours of sleep. He put his PADD in his inside jacket pocket and straightened out his jumpsuit.

“Hi there - Lieutenant Brex, right?” Derek stood up, extending a hand towards the other officer.

"I'm sorry," Brex said. The Denobulan realized he hadn't been paying much attention to either of the other occupants up to that point. His thoughts had been on the Prometheus-class starship docked above them. At the sound of the man’s voice, Brex brought himself back to the present and turned toward the officer next to him.

“Oh of course, how silly of me. I’m Derek Tournneau, the new Chief Engineer. Looks like we’re going to be serving together on the Malinche. How do you do?”

Brex noticed Tournneau's hand was still extended to him. He reached out and accepted the unspoken greeting with a smile. "Well enough, thank you," he replied, "and yourself?"

“Same, same,” Derek nodded. He knew that some people found small talk irritating, but Derek quite enjoyed it. He realized that you could learn a lot about a person just by talking about the weather.

“Well, it’s the Captain’s first day - hopefully we’ve got most of the major bugs worked out,” Derek chuckled “Have you ever met her in person? I’ve only had the requisite official correspondence with her so far.”

"No, this will be my first time." As a matter of fact, it wasn't the first time Brex had gone into a new assignment feeling a little out-of-step. Granted, this wasn't the Bharani, but being able to connect with one's Commanding Officer in advance certainly made the transition smoother. "I did hear they had her teaching a few engineering courses for the Academy during the refit," Brex mused.

“Oh, that’s just wonderful - a Captain and a Professor!” Derek exclaimed, “I guess I’d better get these equations lined up, then. Wouldn’t want to get an ‘F’ on my first test, now would I?”

Brex laughed. Something told him Captain Kersare wasn't exactly the kind of person to be hovering over their shoulders all the time. Still, a background in Engineering meant she probably knew as much if not more about this particular ship than they did at the moment. "Just means we'll have keep on our toes."

“Indeed - although it looks like the boys at the shipyard did a pretty good job getting her back into shape,” Tournneau pointed out. “The cores have been completely overhauled, and there are several new sections of hull ribbing and plating. We’ve been working on the interiors - they’ve been completely stripped down and revamped - trust me, I know. I’ve been doing more carpentry than plasma tuning in the past two weeks.”

“I wasn’t aware we were behind schedule.”

“Well, I think that was the schedule - at least, the shipyard’s schedule,” Derek laughed, “Sometimes I don’t think those guys realize that the day the Captain comes to take command is not the finish date!”

The Denobulan looked directly at Tournneau. All trace of humor had drained completely from his face so that it seemed about as warm as a classical marble statue. "I'm sure they're doing the best they can," he said, voice dead serious, "If you think you're working miracles out there, just imagine trying to juggle a dozen of them all at the same time."

Derek was a bit surprised by Brex’s response. Yeah, but you didn’t have twenty sofas and dining sets in your quarters last week, he grumbled mentally. He was debating whether to let it go or to bust his rank when the Denobulan surprised him again.

A moment later, a wide grin spread across Brex's face. He could tell the sudden change in his demeanor had caught the engineer by surprise. Now it was time to smooth things over before they really got out of hand. "It's alright, Commander," he assured the man, "I'm just giving you a hard time. Spent several years at Utopia Planitia myself and let me tell you...those yard engineers don't march to anyone else's drum but their own."

Derek realized that his face must have looked quite stunned. He laughed with relief and nodded. “So, you do understand! Yeah - the ship is definitely ready for service, but there are a few tertiary systems that aren’t ready, as well as some cosmetic items like carpeting in some of the corridors and access panels. We have plenty of furniture, though.”

"That's good to hear," Brex chuckled, "though I suppose this means you'll be expecting me to put in a few hours before you let me out to explore the station, eh?" It sounded like there was still some work to be done before the Malinche would truly be ready to depart, personnel and supplies notwithstanding. Brex knew he was under no obligation to start working until the next morning, at least according to his current transfer orders, but he wanted to make sure they knew he was willing to help out where he could.

“Well, I’m not going to say that you have to, but it would be a good idea to check in with your department before tomorrow,” Derek suggested. “And, also make sure that the computer cores are playing nice with each other.”

The third occupant, a Bajoran woman in a silver militia uniform with grey shoulders, remained silent throughout the entire exchange. Brex had noticed her glance over in their direction a few times and then look away again without saying anything. A part of him wondered if maybe she had expected to be making this trip alone.

No sooner had the thought occurred to him than the lift began to slow. It eventually came to a halt with a sudden jolt. The doors opened to reveal a small concourse. Beyond that stood the large, circular airlock doors that separated the Malinche from the rest of the station.

Brex watched the Bajoran technician exit the lift. She crossed partway toward the airlock before turning to her right and disappearing from view. When she did not immediately reappear, he assumed that she must have entered an adjacent maintenance area.

Derek saw Brex watching the Bajoran woman leave the lift - he was watching her leave, too. He grinned and playfully slapped Brex on the shoulder.

“Hey Brex, if you’re not too busy watching technicians, can you give me a hand with this crate?”

The Denobulan took the playful gesture in stride, bent down, and lifted up one end of the crate. “I plan on at least poking my head in to say hello, assuming you haven’t stolen all my people away from me already,” Brex said as he and Tournneau exited the lift together, “and I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve that might keep those cores humming along nicely for you.”

“Hah, not at all, not at all,” Derek assured Brex. They crossed through the massive airlock doors, their gear teeth clicking open and shut again. The pair entered the Malinche’s airlock and found themselves in a main corridor. “Well, I have to make the rounds of the core rooms, check on the junior staff. Most of them have come in today, as well. Make yourself at home, and let me know if you need anything. Especially let me know if you need a coffee table - I’ve still got one in my bathroom.”

Bathroom, the Denobulan mouthed silently, mostly to himself. Then he spoke aloud. “Strange place to be keeping a coffee table.”

“Well, I’m tired of having my quarters cluttered with random objects,” Derek explained, “plus, it is pretty handy when you have to keep working and you have to use the head. I mean, that’s time you’re not getting back, right?”

“If you say so, sir,” Brex replied, making a show of averting his eyes.

They soon reached a junction in the corridor. A decision needed to be made and it was clear they would be parting ways at any moment. Tournneau, no doubt, would be headed to one of the three engineering bays (or perhaps somewhere else entirely). Brex still needed to locate the ship’s quartermaster and receive his cabin assignment.

He paused at the corner, set down his end of the gel pack crate, and turned to face Tournneau again. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Commander,” he said, “I hope you find someone to deal with that coffee table.”

“Same here, Lieutenant. I’ll be getting in touch, I’ll send over the reports from the past couple weeks so you can get caught up. See you around!” Derek hefted the crate up on his thigh and turned down the corridor towards a turbolift, chuckling to himself. Thank God there’s someone else with a sense of humor on this boat. He entered the turbolift, set the crate down, and turned his attention to the PADD in his pocket. “Main Engineering.” The lift doors shut and whisked the Commander and his cargo off to the lower hull.

OFF

A Joint Mission Post by:

Lieutenant Commander Derek Tournneau
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

Unnamed Enlisted Bajoran (NPC)
Station Operations Technician
Deep Space Nine
Played by: Lt. Brex

and

[Tournneau]

ON:
<<Deep Space Nine – Mission Day Minus 13 – 0530 Hours>>

“The time is oh-five-hundred thirty hours,” the station computer chimed. The lights in Derek’s quarters began to slowly brighten. Derek lay on his side on the bed, hoping his esper rating was high enough to will time into rolling backwards at least one hour.

“…unnngh,” he groaned as he pulled himself upwards. His sheets had somehow swirled around his body. He peeled himself out of the bed and stood up. The room, while comfortable in his blanket, was a bit chilly in his uniform undergarments. “Computer, increase temperature by two degrees.” The console beeped accordingly.

Derek stood at the window and stretched mightily. He watched as the various craft scooted about the station perimeter. His eyes followed a small engineering shuttle as it made its way up the nearest pylon towards the impressive, angular vessel that was berthed there, the Malinche.

He smiled at seeing the ship. Being here, looking at the ship against the backdrop of DS9, somehow made it all seem more real. Hah, Captain Valek would lecture me on the “illogical human perception of reality” if he heard me say something like that. Derek realized that one eyebrow had raised itself in a subconscious imitation of the Vulcan officer. He chuckled to himself and shook his head. He continued watching the vista in front of him for a few more minutes, drinking it all in.

This is why I joined Starfleet in the first place, all those years ago. Derek recounted his days just prior to the Academy, when he was an intern at the San Francisco Shipyards orbiting Earth. Even though the setting and atmosphere were quite different, DS9 possessed the same electricity, the same excitement. Derek felt reinvigorated and ready to go.

Derek shook himself away from the window – he had been standing there longer than he wanted. He walked over to the replicator station. “Mocha, on ice – almond milk,” he ordered. Once the beverage swirled into existence, he picked it up and took a big gulp. He closed his eyes as the cold drink refreshed his dry throat. He finished it off and headed for the shower.

He undressed and stood in the sonic shower as it activated. The dirt and dead skin from the past day separated and swirled away. Derek really didn’t care for this mode of bathing – it was too similar to the way he cleaned plasma relays. Having grown up on Earth for the first half of his life, he was accustomed to taking a real water shower. But, it was better than going unwashed.

<<DS9 - Upper Pylon Two – 0645>>

The turbolift stopped and opened at the top of the pylon. There were several other occupants in the lift car with Derek, most of them technicians from the Beta Antares Shipyard that were attached to the station, here to finish buttoning up the ship. Everyone filed out of the turbolift and headed down the concourse to the airlock. Because of the increased traffic to the ship in the morning, the airlocks were all kept open.

The doors closed behind him as he walked down the hallway, and almost immediately opened again, expelling another group of techs and crew. The turbolifts were operating at maximum capacity, running in tandem along the shaft.

There was a small bottleneck at the point between the two airlocks. Derek slowly made his way in with the crowd, stepping over the strange gear tracks of the Cardassian side. He emerged from the second round portal into the Malinche’s airlock. There were two sets of wide doorways, both opened as well. There was an ensign(NPC) in red standing behind a podium on the right, and three security officers standing to the left.

The crews were getting their duty assignments from the ensign, and then checking in with the security officers before heading in. The duty officer was addressing the group of techs in front of Derek.

“…and Baker Crew, you will be working with Charlie Crew on Deck 5-Alpha – the crew quarters and lounge are still unfinished. You’ll then be off to Deck 8-Alpha for the science labs.” The crew chief took the PADD from the duty officer, and he and his crew stepped aside to the security station. Derek stepped up to the podium.

“And where do I go, Ensign?” he asked expectantly.

“Ah, let’s see, and who are – oh,” the officer looked up from his list, and looked down again to check it. He snapped to attention and saluted. “Welcome aboard the Malinche, Commander!”

Derek shot him a return salute. “At ease. Thank you, Ensign…,” he trailed off in question.

“Sokolov, Michael Sokolov. I’m from the shipyard – I’m happy to report that all of the primary and secondary systems have been installed and are operating at their peak efficiency, Commander. We’re still working on the finishing touches – mostly crew quarters, aesthetics, and the like. We anticipate everything to be completed on schedule for the Captain’s arrival.”

“Well, that’s a relief. Well, carry on, Ensign. I’m just going to tour the ship today and take a look around. Tomorrow, start putting me on the duty rotations – someone needs to get these decks built out, huh?” he said, smiling, and patted the ensign on the shoulder.

“Yes, sir,” the ensign chuckled and waved him in. The lead security officer came to check his credentials, saluted, and turned his attentions to the next group of techs coming through the airlock. Derek saluted and walked through the open airlock.

He stepped over the threshold and into the Malinche’s main starboard-side corridor on Deck 9. He walked, running his hand across the bulkhead as he strode down the hallway. He passed various crewmembers, each of them busy at different tasks. The grey walls and carpeting were easy on the eyes, and the carpet was accented by red and cream stripes that ran against the floorboards. Everything smelled newly replicated. Derek came to a turbolift door, and he entered it.

He was going to check out Main Engineering first, but he suddenly had a wry thought.

“Deck 3”

<<USS Malinche – Deck Three, Crew Quarters – 0656 Hours>>

The doors to the turbolift opened, and Derek stepped out into the hallway. The floor on this deck had not been carpeted yet, revealing bare duranium. Derek’s footsteps echoed sharply on the metal, and he took a datapad out of his inside jacket pocket. He called up a map of the ship and headed to where his quarters were supposed to be. As he walked, many of the rooms that he passed had completely open walls; sometimes, he could see all the way through across the ship to the port-side corridor . Various crews could be seen and heard in the distance, welding in the final panels.

Derek found the correct door number and pressed the large button on the control. The door slid open, revealing a lavishly-sized, completed suite. The carpet and wall paneling were already in place, and there was a great forward view from the narrow window. It was probably one of the choice accommodations on the ship – except it was buried in furniture. Sofa after sofa was stacked in the room, along with what must have been at least ten dining sets. Derek shook his head incredulously, and carefully entered the room. He shimmied along the wall to a doorway, what would eventually be a bedroom – it was filled with stacked chairs. So close, and yet so far away, Derek lamented as he made his way back out of the suite. Going to move this to the top of the list!

<<Main Engineering – 0716 Hours>>

Derek entered the compartment from the main door. The room was bustling with shipyard crew, monitoring and checking the systems as their counterparts were bringing other areas of the ship online. He slowly strode into the room, taking it all in. The crew were all very busy – those that noticed his presence stopped to render a perfunctory salute and then returned to their business.

Derek stopped at the warp core – its plasma swirled blue and white as it gently hummed. He placed his hand on the polished wooden safety railing. It appeared to be made of some sort of heavy oak or cherry wood. The core looked very similar to that of the Oberon, the last ship he was on. However, the compartment was significantly larger – not to mention that this warp core ran in tandem with three others. He continued watching the plasma dance and whirl in the chamber. His plasma. His chamber. This is it, my step forward, he thought. Time to hit the ground running.

<<Starboard Airlock – Mission Day Minus 7 – 1845 Hours>>

What a week! Derek was exhausted – this evening, he and a crew from the shipyard finally got Deck 3 buttoned up – mostly. The rooms were completed, computer terminals wired in, but there were still areas that were missing aesthetic touches like carpeting and paint. However, the quarters on that deck were livable.

And all that furniture is out of my room! I can finally move in tomorrow, Derek thought gleefully. He was ready to be rid of the dreary quarters on the station. In terms of living space, they were just as good as his new quarters, but the lighting and décor were rather gloomy. Plus, they weren’t really “his,” and he had not spent any time trying to dress it up or make himself comfortable.

As he and the rest of the shift filed through the DS9 airlock, he rubbed his neck. I could really use a little diversion. I haven’t really taken any time for myself the whole week, just been trying to get this boat ready to sail. I’ve heard that the bar on the Promenade is pretty good – still haven’t really checked it out. Maybe I’ll go today, take the late shift tomorrow.

He finally reached the end of the corridor, the turbolift doors opened, and he and a group of others piled in to the car . The doors shut and everyone entered their own destinations.

“Habitat Ring, Section 3.”

“Docking Ring, Airlock 24.”

“Cargo Bay 4.”

“Quark's.” The other passengers turned to the rear of the car to look at a bemused Engineering officer.

“What?” Derek asked jokingly, “You’re all welcome to come, too.”

OFF

Ensign Michael Sokolov(NPC)
Duty Officer
Beta Antares Shipyards, Bajor
played by Lt. Cdr. Tournneau

and

[Varrat]

ON:
<<Starbase Deep Space Nine - Promenade- Quark’s - Mission Day Minus 7 - 1900 Hours>>

Lieutenant Tojal Varrat sat alone staring into a half finished glass of Kanar, nearly unaware of the bustling crowd that surrounded him save for the raucous shouts of ‘DABO!’ that repeated ad-nauseam. His mother had come for a visit; his mind replayed every word of their conversation in a futile search for a hole in her argument, some way to better justify the choices he had made in his life. Only the same tired self defense came to mind however and even he had begun to wonder if it was all just one big excuse.

“Another glass for you?”

Tojal looked up into the face of a Ferengi- Quark, the establishment’s patron. The stout man wore a smile but the tilt of his head and wide eyes suggested annoyance.

“No, thank you,” Tojal replied and took another sip of the mucilaginous liquid; it was warm from sitting for too long, bitter. “I’m still finishing this one.”

“Well in case you hadn’t noticed it’s busy tonight,” Quark replied as he leaned forward into the Cardassian’s face. “If you won’t order another I’ll have to ask you to make room for someone who will.”

* * * * * * *

Derek entered the bar from the second level, having just gotten off of the turbolift from the Malinche. It had been a busy week for him - inspecting the core systems of his new ship, meeting some of his staff that had already reported in, and getting his quarters on board the ship in order.

A storage unit, Derek mused - he couldn’t help but shake his head and smile. I can’t believe it - my quarters, a sofa warehouse! His room was nearly set up, but there was still an extra coffee table in the bathroom waiting to be picked up.

Derek paused at the bar’s upper railing, peering down to the first level. The Dabo tables were buzzing, and the bar was nearly full. He spotted an empty seat - at a table with a lone Cardassian. Oddly, this Cardassian was wearing a Starfleet uniform. The lone officer seemed to be brooding over his drink.

Well, maybe I shouldn’t bother him. Looks like he wants to be left alone - uh oh. Derek paused as he watched the barkeep come up to the officer’s table. Derek could tell by the body language that the Ferengi was trying to shoo the Cardassian out of his prime seat near the Dabo floor. Derek also saw, perhaps what the Ferengi did not, the Cardassian’s hand tightening around the glass.

Derek hustled down the inner stairway and headed towards the table.

* * * * * * *

“...ask you to make room for someone who will,” Quark finished, his arm gesturing for the door.

“Ah, thanks for grabbing a table!” Derek shoved in between the Ferengi and the empty chair. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” He sat down and turned towards Quark. “I’ll take an Andorian ale - another round for my friend as well!”

Quark looked annoyed. Derek kept smiling up at him. Quark’s scowl grew, revealing more of his sharpened teeth - but a customer was a customer. “Coming right up, my friend.” He bowed slightly, wrists together, and swiftly turned back to the bar.

Tojal watched the Ferengi leave before turning his attention toward the newcomer; a Human in Service-Gold whose broad smile and easy mannerisms were a little too cheerful. “Who are you?” Tojal inquired; he sat his glass of spoiled drink aside and leaned back in his seat. “I didn’t need your help.”

“Name’s Derek - and if you don’t mind me saying so, I think you did need my help - or at least, the Ferengi’s face did,” Tournneau said with a wry smile on his face. “Just looking out for my fellow officer. Well anyway, looks like we’ve got a round coming - what’s your story? I don’t think I’ve seen a Cardassian in that uniform before.”

A Ferengi waiter came up to the table and put down two shotglasses - one filled with a light blue, translucent drink and the other with a viscous, black gel.

“Tojal,” the Cardassian replied as he watched the Ferengi walk away. He surveyed the two glasses, he wasn’t a drinking man and had already had too much but it wasn’t every day that he faced an existential crisis. He took his respective glass from the table and held it toward Derek, “to life’s little mysteries.”

“To mysteries,” Derek toasted. He raised his glass as well, and clinked it against the Cardassian’s. He took a small sip of the ale and let it sit on his tongue as its warmth permeated his sinuses.

Tojal tipped his glass back and slurped down its contents before bringing it down on the table with a loud clank. “I’m not the first Cardassian in Starfleet but I suspect there aren’t many of us,” he replied. He leaned back in his seat as the Kanar went to his head, “it’s not exactly a popular career choice among my people Commander.”

Derek raised an eyebrow at the empty glass opposite him. “Isn’t that stuff a bit strong- never mind. Well, it certainly seems like something’s bothering you tonight.” He looked at the badge on Tojal’s chest and frowned. “I’m sorry if you misunderstood - I didn’t mean to say that you weren’t welcome in the uniform. You seem to have done well for yourself in the service - you’re commissioned, full lieutenant. Why the chagrin?”

“I was a Glinn once,” Tojal said with distant retrospection. “Before the war-” he chuckled to himself at the absurdity of the time. “A, very promising, young officer in the Guard. I don’t need to re-hash history; after the war I found myself a civilian and Cardassia was- well, it was in shambles, wasn’t it? I did what I was supposed to, I am a doctor after all, I saved as many as I could.” He stared off into space for a moment before focusing back on Derek. “Well, after that Cardassia didn’t feel so much like home anymore and being the idealistic young man that I was… Starfleet seemed like a good idea- It still does but sometimes the past... It has a way of catching up with you.”

Derek nodded sympathetically, and drained the rest of his glass - his throat was positively burning now, but the aroma was worth it. “I understand that, the past catching you. After the war, I left the service, too. Too much killing. Just living for the next order. The mindset of the fleet - it was different. It wasn’t the Starfleet that I joined. So I left, went back to my parent’s freighter line, engineered a ship for almost nine years.”

“We fix things, you and I,” Tojal replied with a grin as he leaned onto the table with hands clasped. “People, machines, same difference- there’s meaning in the doing of it. So, what changed your mind? -About Starfleet.”

Derek absent-mindedly played with his glass as he thought about his response. “Well, after all of that, after leaving the service, it ends up that conflict found me anyway.” He sighed heavily. “I married the Captain of the ship. We were happy, we had several years together. But I lost them both, the ship and my wife - pirates.” He raised his glass, twirling it at the nearest waiter.

“I took some time off, spent some time with my family. I started looking into it, and I felt like Starfleet had started to find its way again, back to what it’s supposed to be. So, I joined up again, went back to the Academy in the graduate program, and five years later here I am - Chief Engineer of a starship!” Another serving of light-blue ale appeared on the table in front of Derek. He picked it up immediately and took a large sip out of the glass, inhaling the heady vapors as they evaporated in his mouth.

Tojal regarded Derek silently as he spoke, the man’s story made his own self doubt and problems seem insignificant. He nodded to the Ferengi and handed his empty glass to the server. “It’s all so unpredictable,” he replied. “Life that is. I suppose there’s no sense in second guessing any of it, it’s not like we can take anything back.” The Ferengi had returned quickly and Tojal accepted his third glass, he rolled it idly between his hands on the table. “I was recently promoted as well, Chief Medical. I certainly wouldn’t have guessed I’d be here all those years ago.”

“That’s exactly right, Tojal,” Derek nodded as he kicked the chair back on two legs. “We can’t take anything back - you always have to move forward.” Derek frowned at Tojal again. “Waiaminute, you’re the new Doctor on a ship here?” There were only a few major starships scheduled to come through DS9 over the next few days. “Which one?”

“The Malinche-” Tojal said with a little shrug. “The Prometheus class that’s been docked here the last week or two. I’m not due aboard for another week and it’s my understanding that their Med-Bay is still… Out of sorts.”

Derek brought the chair back down on all fours. How could I have missed that? A Cardassian Starfleet doctor, and he’s on my ship! He had been so inundated with equations, past logs, and now all of the interior work he’d been supervising that he still hadn’t really looked at the other department assignments.

“The Malinche? That’s my ship, too! What’re the odds? Oh, she’s a beaut - you’re going to love it - especially because the ship actually has senior quarters now!”

Tojal sat silent for a second as he surveyed Derek, he couldn’t help but smirk at the man’s face. “Are you always this excited by your work?”

Derek shrugged nonchalantly. “Not always, but I find satisfaction in it. But come on, this ship is one of Starfleet’s finest - you can’t tell me you’re not at least a little excited.”

“By the ship-” Tojal replied with a shake of his head. “No.” It mattered little to the Cardassian what ship he served on, it’s aesthetics or capabilities, ultimately they were all just a means to an end. “But if the Malinche’s mission takes us somewhere where we can make a difference, I suppose that might excite me.”

“Fair enough - I suppose for me, the challenge of engineering a ship this complex is an exciting prospect. Perhaps the equivalent for you would be the opportunity to cure a disease that you had only read about before.”

“Point taken,” Tojal replied with a thin smile. His thoughts began to drift back to his mother and her argument. She was right that he could make a difference more directly on Cardassia but Derek- even if inadvertently, had begun to convince him again that he was still having an effect even if distantly. “-and perhaps such chances will be afforded aboard the Malinche. As you say, she is ‘one of Starfleet’s finest’.”

“Well, after meeting her Doctor, I think that’s even more true than before.” Derek raised his half-full glass in a second toast. “To opportunity!”

Remembering he still clasped a refilled glass in his hands Tojal followed suit, raising his glass to toast. He took in only half of it’s contents this time and returned it to the table, “thank you for intruding on my brooding Commander, if you ever tire of Engineering you might consider taking up counseling.”

Derek laughed, “Well, I don’t know about that. I’m damaged goods myself.” He looked behind him, seemingly at nothing, and turned around. “Say, Tojal. Have you ever thrown darts?”

“That depends,” he replied with a devilish grin only a Cardassian could produce. “Are you a sore loser?”

Derek scoffed sarcastically as the pair stood up. He steadied himself on the table as he rose. “I think maybe you’ve had too much Kanar tonight.”

Tojal’s head was spinning as he stood- he felt as though he might fall over, “I know I have. Let us hope it doesn’t affect my aim too much or our lingering at a table will be the least of the Ferengi’s worries.”

OFF:

A joint post written by:

Lieutenant Commander Derek Tournneau
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

And

Lieutenant Tojal Varrat
Chief Medical Officer
USS Malinche - NCC-38997-A

[Tournneau]

ON

<<Deep Space Nine - Habitat Ring - Mission Day Minus 6 - 0900 Hours>>

"The time is oh-nine-hundred hours," the computer called out, as the lights began to brighten Derek's temporary quarters.

Oh my Lord....you're not twenty anymore, Derek, Lt. Cdr. Tournneau chided himself as he sat up in his bed. He had actually been half-awake for quite a while, but the mighty hangover that he was suffering from kept him from summoning the will to move. However, the morning was half-gone, and it was time to get started regardless of whether or not his brain was a pile of grey mush.

Lesson learned: your Academy days are over, old man. Derek forced himself out of the bed and on to his feet. His head was positively throbbing, but it was the heavy fog that was the most disconcerting. As he stretched at the window, he noticed that his arm was still covered in fabric, and he was sweatier than usual. Derek looked down at himself and realized that he was still fully dressed.

He shambled over to the replicator station. "Hydrocortilene, 3%."

The computer beeped negatively. "That formulation requires the authorization of a medical officer. Do you wish to place a request?" the computer retorted.

Oh, for God's sake, you can give this stuff to kids. "Yes, absolutely."

"Working..."

The icon on the screen spun idly while the computer sent a request off to the station's Infirmary. About half a minute later, the screen switched to show a young female Bajoran doctor (NPC) in civilian clothes.

"Good morning, Commander. Looks like you need a little help getting the day started. Can you tell me the nature of the injury?"

"Andorrian ale," Derek replied. "About half a bottle or so."

The doctor gave him a half-joking 'you should know better' kind of look as she shook her head. "Ah yes, the hydrocortilene should do the trick." She glanced off-screen for a moment. "It appears you have a basic medic rating, so I'll release the prescription. You'll only be able to have today's dose. Please let us know if the headache comes back in the next 24 hours. If you require a second dose in the next two days, you'll have to come down to the Infirmary in person for testing."

"Understood, Doctor. Thank you."

"Have a good day, Mr. Tournneau. Infirmary out."

The screen switched off as the replicator hummed into life. Derek picked up the hypospray and applied it to his jugular. Immediately, the mental fog lifted as the medicine coursed through his veins. With each heartbeat, the headache began to subside. Oh, thank goodness. Not doing that again for quite some time. I'd better get ready for the day - what's left of it, anyway.

As he disrobed and stepped into the sonic shower, he called out again to the comm panel.

"Computer, access the duty roster for USS Malinche."

The computer beeped affirmatively. "Roster accessed."

"Computer, remove Derek Tournneau from Day Shift for today."

<<USS Malinche - Deck 3, Senior Crew Quarters - 1012 hours>>

Derek walked the starboard passage on the Malinche's third deck. They still hadn't been able to replicate and install the carpeting over the grav plating the corridor, but all of the rooms on this deck were finally completed. All of the bulkheads lining the wall were gleaming and brand new. Derek allowed himself a small burst of pride in his handiwork and that of the shipyard crew.

As he had given himself the day off (not being officially on duty until six days from now anyway), Derek was not dressed in uniform. Rather, he was wearing a semi-formal, high-collared, black and white tunic with black trousers. The fabric was comfortable, and it allowed him to be casual but still be taken seriously if need be. He still had his combadge pinned to his chest. He was carrying his satchel and suitcase with him, having removed what little he had used in his temporary station quarters.

He arrived at the door to his quarters. The door placard, besides the number, now read CEO's Quarters. He pressed the large button on the panel and entered the room.

His quarters now only contained one sofa, placed against the far wall. Narrow windows stood behind and on either side of it, providing a side and forward view. He could see the docking pylon attached to the Malinche a few decks below, as well as a few ships in the traffic pattern. He could see that one ship was underway, in the direction of the Wormhole. A workstation and desk were present in the room, as well as one of the small, oblong four-seat dining sets that were used in each of the senior quarters. The tabletop was made of metal, with a glass center.

In his bedroom, several crates were stacked neatly beside the bed. Looks like everything made it through customs and transport, Derek thought as he quickly took inventory. Satisfied, he opened the case marked 'bedroom' and took out a holoimage frame.

His late wife, Anaya Srivastava, smiled at him from the photo. She was wearing a deep blue knee-length skirt with golden trim and matching blue leggings, which contrasted nicely against her dark skin and black hair. Derek touched the image, and it began to move. Anaya was standing proudly in front of a starbase viewport, her large Deneva-class freighter, the Impetuous, visible behind her. She turned to look at the ship, then back at Derek, grinning.

The holoimage froze on the last frame, preserving Anaya's face as Derek always remembered it. The first day we met, the first day seeing our ship. He sighed as he placed the picture on the nightstand and looked around at his quarters. If only you could have seen this boat, you'd probably be pulling every system apart just to see how it all works, Derek chuckled as he pictured it: Anaya knee-deep in components while Captain Kersare stood by in horror, hands pulling out her own hair.

A bright blue flash from outside the window broke Derek's recollection. The ship that departed the station a few minutes ago had triggered the Wormhole, its blue and golden energy swirls dancing in space momentarily before closing down to a singularity again. The colors were very similar to Anaya's dress.

Derek put his hand on the bulkhead. "It's not our home; I don't think any ship ever will be that for me again," Derek said aloud, "But, I know you're proud."

OFF

Unnamed Bajoran Doctor (NPC)
Deep Space Nine, Infirmary
Played by: Lt. Cdr. Tournneau

and

[Kersare]

ON:

<<DS9, Promenade outside Quark's, Day 1, 1210>>

After wandering a bit longer, Isabel settled on lunch at Quark's, though she hoped to dine on the second or third level rather than being in the thick of things on the main floor. Before she stepped inside, however, she glanced down the corridor. About halfway down Isabel saw a familiar face framed by blonde hair; it was Nora. Smiling, Isabel waved, trying to get her attention.

DS9’s Promenade was busier than Nora had ever seen it, no doubt due in part to the surge of new crew that were even now arriving to join the newly refitted Manlinche. Nora herself had just arrived, and already she was filled with a wonderful sense of anticipation. Although she had yet to see the ship itself, this return felt very much like a homecoming, and she was very eager to see some of her old friends.

As if on cue, the Betazoid simultaneously caught sight of an arm waving in her direction and sensed warm recognition directed her way. Isabel, she saw, was not far ahead, and with a bright smile in place, Nora hastened to meet her.

"Welcome back to DS9; it's good to see you, Nora," Isabel said with a smile, glad to see her friend and Executive Officer. "Did you just arrive? I was going to have lunch at Quark's if you care to join me..."

“You look wonderful, Isabel,” Nora said warmly, giving the Captain a friendly embrace. “Oh, it’s so good to see you, and so good to be back. Well, almost back, I suppose.” Close enough, at any rate. Glancing at the vibrant and crowded central attraction that was Quark’s, Nora nodded gamely. “I did just arrive, and I am absolutely famished. Besides, who could pass up lunch at Quark’s?” she asked rhetorically, gesturing for Isabel to lead the way.

Isabel nodded, "It is rather difficult to resist, isn't it? Let's a get a table upstairs; I imagine it'll be easier to catch up with less of the sounds from the gaming tables..." The crowd was already quite large and while the noise level wasn't unbearable, it would certainly make conversations difficult. Leading the way upstairs, Isabel found a table and took a seat, handing a menu to Nora and taking one for herself. "So how was your journey, for starters?"

“Not terribly long,” Nora replied, aligning her menu so it lay on the table’s surface in front of her just so. “But it felt like it might go on forever. I’ve been so eager to see the ship again. It was like seeing an old friend when I saw it docked at the station.” She smiled, certain that Isabel felt the same, if not stronger. “And how was your journey? Earth is much farther away from Deep Space Nine than Betazed. Did the anticipation of seeing your ship again overwhelm you, or was Derek able to keep you grounded?”

Putting aside the menu she'd been looking at, Isabel answered, "Mostly I was looking through the progress reports and considering what I wanted to prioritize. Having some time off was nice - visiting family, teaching at the Academy, but I’m eager to get back to the Malinche... Still, it was probably good to have Derek and the reports to distract me a bit. How was your time off?"

“Relaxing, and enlightening,” Nora said, the gaming tables below catching her eye for a moment. “I enjoyed working at the Embassy, and it was heavenly spending so much time with family and friends.” Betazed was and always would be the home of Nora’s heart. The prospect of staying permanently had been tempting, for a time, but ultimately she’d known that her life in Starfleet wasn’t over yet.

Isabel nodded, smiling. The two put there conversation on hold briefly as a waitress approached, took their orders, retrieved the menus, and left. Once they were alone again, Isabel asked, "And what about Gel?"

“Gel and I ended our engagement. It was for the best, and I feel delightfully unattached for the first time in…well, forever, really,” the Betazoid said with a smirk. There was a reason so many Betazoids were turning away from the old tradition of genetic bonding, Nora mused. While she cared for Gel, in the end she had only considered going through with their arranged marriage to honor her parents’ memory. Now, she felt certain that her parents would want nothing more than her happiness. “Gel belongs on Betazed, but I’m happiest here—and extremely happy to have finally made a decision.”

"I'm glad to hear you made a decision and that you're happy with it. I certainly would have missed you had you chosen to stay on Betazed with him, but being happy is important. I know the engagement had been on your mind for quite some time," Isabel replied.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Nora said wryly, thinking of the literal years she’d spent in indecision even before she’d actually met Gel. The waiter returned with Nora’s drink order, setting a glass of springwine before her. Lover of springwine that she was, she wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to enjoy a glass this close to Bajor. “I’m convinced that this is the best decision for us both. And, it frees me up to focus on more important things, such as helping keep your newly refitted ship safe and sound,” Nora grinned.

Isabel nodded, "I know we have some returning crew, but we also lost quite a few members of our senior staff. I haven't met any of the new crew yet, but knowing that I do still have you as my Executive Officer puts my mind at ease. At least, as much as it can be under the circumstances. There have been quite a few changes - the ship refit, transferring to a different fleet, the new crew..."

“It’s very much like a fresh start,” Nora surmised speculatively. “Change is the name of the game in Starfleet, so I suppose we’re fortunate that not <i>everything</i> has changed. Besides, I doubt that the Admiralty would be sending us any but the best, now that the <i>Malinche</i> is practically brand new. It will be different, but only in the best way,” she concluded with a smile.

"I do hope you're right," Isabel replied thoughtfully. She would certainly miss some of her crew that wasn't returning, but hoped that they were doing well with their new assignments. "Have you heard from or about any of the former senior staff who left?"

As happened all too often in Starfleet, Nora had already lost touch with some of her former shipmates, though she had no doubt that she’d run into a number of them again before too long. Although Starfleet was made up of seemingly countless individuals, it was also a surprisingly small world sometimes.

“I haven’t heard from many,” Nora said by way of an answer. “But I did speak with Dr. Setak a week or so ago. He’s a member of the Vulcan Science Academy now, and I believe he’s very content living on Vulcan.” Having spent most of his life in the Mirror Universe, the former CMO for the <i>Malinche</i> had decided to learn more of this universe’s Vulcan culture. Even now he was patiently preparing for the <i>Kolinahr</i>, and Nora was happy that her friend was finding peace in his pursuits.

Nodding Isabel replied, "I'm glad to hear he's doing well. I haven't heard from many of the others either, to be honest. Most were going on to other assignments, of course. And I have yet to meet any of the new crew, though I'm sure that will change in the next few hours."

As the waiter brought their food to the table, Isabel nodded her thanks to him and cast an approving glance down at the pasta meal in front of her. It used more local ingredients, so it was familiar yet different. "And before you ask, I'm not sure what our first mission will be yet. StarFleet hasn't briefed me on anything, so perhaps they're waiting for us to have a look at the Malinche and find a few more staff first."

“You’ll hear no complaint from me,” Nora said with a smile, her fork at the ready as she looked over her own dish. She wasn’t entirely sure what it was, as she’d asked the waiter to surprise her, but it smelled delicious, and she’d never been a particularly picky eater. “That will at least give us some time to get to know some of our new crewmembers, particularly among the senior staff.”

"Very true." Isabel started in on her pasta as she continued, "Did you have a chance to look over the service records of any of the new crew yet - senior staff or otherwise?"

“I have, as a matter of fact, though I haven’t made as much progress as I’d hoped.” Nora had intended to use some of her remaining time on Betazed to read through new crewmember service records as they came in, but in the end she’d found herself spending every free moment with her family. She couldn’t bring herself to regret it, but she knew she’d be playing a bit of catch up in exchange. “They’re all new faces to me, except for our new Chief Medical Officer. I served with Dr. Varrat on my last assignment. He’s rather brilliant, actually. I think you’ll like him, Isabel,” Nora remarked.

Isabel raised an eyebrow, "Brilliant, hmm? I imagine he's probably more even tempered than Doctor Setak was? I vaguely remember reading through his service record, I believe. A Cardassian?"

With a quiet laugh, Nora nodded. “Yes, a Cardassian—and yes, a bit more even tempered,” she smiled. As she recalled, Tojal was in fact rather famous for his self-control, at least among the small crew that had comprised their shared assignment. “Regardless, our crew’s health will be in excellent hands with Dr. Varrat.”

The two continued catching up while they finished their meal and got refills on their beverages. Isabel was certainly glad she'd gotten a chance to do so before heading back to the Malinche. It was good to be on the same page as her Executive Officer.

Finished, Isabel stood and smiled at Nora, "Shall we head over to the Malinche?"

OFF: JP brought to you by:

Commander Nora Zeral
Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

and

[Kersare]

<<USS Malinche, Captain’s Ready Room, Day 1, 1515>>

Lieutenant Tojal Varrat stood before the doors to the Captain’s ready room in quiet contemplation; his mind did one last once over of his conversation with his mother and that with his new friend in Engineering. He had never before been so torn as to his future but with some assistance he had settled on a path, he was a Starfleet officer first, even before being a Cardassian. He knew that he had made the right choice all those years ago, joining Starfleet and so he would see this path to its natural conclusion.

His lingering presence on the bridge was beginning to draw glances and after exchanging them with nods and a grin he pressed the door chime. The Captain was quick to answer and after striding into the room he moved straight for the Captain’s desk, stealing a few discreet glances at the decor of the room as he moved.

“Chief Medical Officer Tojal Varrat, reporting for duty Captain,” he explained before stopping just short of her desk at attention.

Isabel looked up from the report she had just started reading and set it aside, next to the rather large stack that had been left for her. She had hoped to be a little more caught up before anyone came to report in - perhaps she should have chosen to start unpacking before diving in. “Welcome to the Malinche, Doctor,” Isabel replied with a brief smile, gesturing toward one of the chairs in front of her desk. She pulled a PADD over to her and quickly brought up Tojal’s service record.

Tojal stood at ease, it seemed that Captain Kersare wasn’t the stifling regimented type of Commanding Officer he was used to. “Thank you Captain,” he replied as he seated himself. He took the brief silent moment to study the room’s furnishings; it wasn’t uncomfortable, to be sure.

“When did you arrive, Doctor Varrat? Have you had a chance to settle in yet?” Tojal was the one Nora had told her about earlier. If he had impressed her, Isabel didn’t think she had anything to worry about. Still, it was good to get her own impression as well.

“Only yesterday Captain,” Tojal replied. “Late in fact. I have tended to my quarters but I’ve not yet been to sickbay, it would seem that the facilities there were only just finalized this morning. It will be my next stop.”

Nodding, Isabel said, “I only arrived today myself. If you’d like, we could continue this conversation on our way to check out Sickbay; I haven’t had a chance to see it either. Or we can carry on here.” She thought it might be a bit more relaxed if they took a bit of a walk, but if there was anything sensitive Tojal wanted to talk about, she wanted to give him a chance to do so. Technically they could talk in his office even.

“Actually Captain, if I may,” Tojal shifted in his seat. He had been concerned about this very subject for much of the morning but it had to be addressed and it wasn’t something he wanted just anyone to overhear. “I am an open book; I have no secrets especially where you are concerned. As you may know my family is involved in politics on Cardassia, my mother in particular has had her eye on a seat on the ruling council for some time.” He paused, it all sounded so absurd, even in his own ears. “My career in Starfleet has been somewhat of an embarrassment to her and she is not above pursuing desperate means to end it, for her benefit. I just want to inform you that whatever you may read, or hear; I am where I want to be.”

Isabel raised an eyebrow slightly as she listened. “I’m glad to hear that you are where you want to be. If I may ask...what types of desperate measures has she taken? Is there anything I should be aware of or watching for?” To be fair, she had taken on her share of...unique individuals, so it wasn’t as if she wasn’t used to some challenges. It was just better to have an idea of what those challenges might be.

“During my second year at the academy,” Tojal started with a wince. “She falsified prison records on Bajor, by what means I couldn’t say, to show that I had been incarcerated for over two years.” He paused and held up a hand as Isabel began to ask what crimes he had supposedly committed. “The list is too long to recount but suffice it to say that I wasn’t allowed anywhere near a Temple the last time I visited Bajor. The long and short of it Captain is this; my mother might actually be what you call a Devil. I just wanted you to be aware that she is capable of anything and that I will plead innocence now, in advance.”

“I’m sorry to hear that your mother is doing these sorts of things… However, I’m glad you brought it to my attention so that I’m aware of what’s going on. I’ll have an idea of what to watch out for. Is there anything else in particular I should be aware of?” She couldn’t imagine a mother falsifying prison records… Isabel decided not to ask what other types of things Tojal’s mother had done.

“No Captain,” he replied. “As if that weren’t more than you had bargained for but it’s best to ask now I suppose.” He paused and looked about the room a little more. “My last assignment was a Sovereign class vessel, serving aboard a ship half the size will take some getting used to. I understand that you’ve been Captain of the Malinche for more than ten years, this must be home for you?”

It seemed that Tojal was well informed. Isabel wasn’t used to new crewmembers commenting on her experience. “Yes, the Malinche is pretty much what I consider home. The longest I’ve really been away from her is during a refit. In time, hopefully you’ll get used to her. It seems you’re well qualified as Chief Medical Officer and my Executive Officer says she’s served with you as well.”

“Yes, Nor-” Tojal caught himself and cleared his throat. “Commander Zeral and I were stationed at a research base together, we worked in the same research unit in fact. I would dare to call us friends, thought it’s been several years since we last spoke.”

Isabel nodded, intrigued. She didn’t recall Nora mentioning Tojal before, but perhaps that was partly because she didn’t think they’d be working at the same assignment again. Certainly Isabel didn’t go into great detail about all her former colleagues. “What kind of research?”

“It was fascinating really,” Tojal explained, animated. He had enjoyed that assignment a great deal and as much could be determined from the way he spoke about it. “A race of telepaths who had abandoned their spoken language entirely, we spent over two years among them, studying their gifts and culture. Commander Zeral was the lead of course, she had the best chance of communicating with them but I assisted from an exo-biology standpoint, studying the parts of their brains that allowed them such an amazing gift.”

“That does sound interesting,” Isabel admitted, curious. “Did anything particularly useful or intriguing come out of the research?”

“Oh, I’m quite sure there was but I’m afraid it’s something you would have to ask the Commander to get any detail on.” Tojal smiled. “For my part I did isolate their powers to a small but well developed part of their brain, a part found only in a handful of other known species, Betazoids among them. If you don’t mind my asking Captain, are you a Scientist by training or..?”

He certainly was an inquisitive sort, she mused. “I trained as an engineer. I worked in Engineering on the USS Cheyenne until moving to the command department. Are there any particular areas of interest you have in the medical field, Doctor?”

Tojal nodded, she didn’t look like an engineer but then he didn’t really look like a doctor. “Exo-Biology of course, though I suppose that is the more recent academic area of my specialty, the field I chose at Starfleet academy.” he paused to consider. “I originally trained as a microbiologist and epidemiologist, on Cardassia.”

Isabel said, “If I may ask; why did you decide to join StarFleet? Obviously it hasn’t been an...easy path, considering some of the difficulties you’ve had to deal with.” It wasn’t a question she usually asked, but some people would have given up on the idea if they had to face some of the issues Tojal did.

“Honestly Captain, the choice wasn’t a hard one,” Tojal’s smile disappeared and he became a little more serious. “You see, I was raised on Bajor, during the occupation. My father was in charge of a city and I never set foot on Cardassia until I was nine years old. After the war ended I found myself without a career, I drifted for a time before returning to Bajor, which had only recently joined the Federation. I had the chance to meet several Starfleet officers and even befriend a few, it was one such friend that suggested I might give it a try. More recently however I’ve decided that as odd as it sounds, being a Starfleet officer is the best thing I can do to help my people. The winds are changing Captain, through the Quadrant and Cardassia is not what it used to be.”

Nodding slowly, Isabel replied, “So you consider Bajor to be more of ‘home’ than Cardassia?” Thinking she remembered something else, she glanced at his transfer orders, “And I see that you requested the Malinche specifically...due to a familiar face, perhaps, or was there another reason?” She wondered how Tojal would get along with Awen (PNPC), or rather, how Awen would get along with Tojal. Her Chief Security/Tactical Officer hadn’t reported in yet, but having been a part of the Bajoran Resistance, Isabel wasn’t sure how she would react to a Cardassian senior staff member.

“I had a few options Captain but admittedly, seeing… Nora’s, name on that list did make the Malinche the obvious choice,” he said. “And yes, Bajor will always be home for me. I know it too is a strange thing but there is something about that planet that soothes one’s nerves and mends the soul.”

“I know you haven’t seen Sickbay yet, but is there anything you need or any other questions you have for me?” Isabel set the PADD with Tojal’s service record aside and interlaced her fingers in front of her on the desk as she awaited his response.

“No Captain,” Tojal replied. “Except to say that I am pleased that you accepted my transfer and that I look forward to serving as your CMO. Is there anything else you need of me?”

Isabel paused to consider the question, then shook her head slowly, “Nothing in particular. But please do let me or my yeoman know if there’s anything you need in regards to your department and sickbay. Or if you do happen to think of any other questions.” She stood and offered her hand, “It was nice meeting you, Doctor.”

Tojal shook the Captain’s hand before standing back at attention awaiting a dismissal. Once he had it he gave her one last nod and made for the door. He hoped he had not been too forward the with Captain but if he had he suspected he would know in due time.

OFF:
JP brought to you by:

Lieutenant Tojal Varrat
Chief Medical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

and

[Varrat]

<<USS Malinche, Main Bridge, Day 1, 1530>>

After enjoying lunch with Isabel on Deep Space 9, Nora had wasted little time in returning to the <i>Malinche</i>. She’d taken only a brief moment to stop in her quarters, mostly to ensure that her belongings had arrived and all her plants had made the journey from Betazed unscathed. It had been almost comically difficult to ensure that they all survived the relocation when the refit had begun. That they’d survived a second round of interstellar transport was nothing short of a miracle.

With the wellbeing of her plants and belongings assured, Nora had set about reacquainting herself with the ship that she’d grown to love so much, quietly but eagerly taking in all of the changes and new touches. The corridors were nearly the same as ever, except for a certain gleam on the bulkheads that Nora swore hadn’t been there before. Her office was largely the same, with only a very slight change in layout and furniture. The bridge, however—her next destination—had just enough changes to make it seem almost new to her, though objectively not too much had changed.

The Betazoid was admiring some of the newer aspects—the holographic readouts on some consoles, for instance, were really rather nice—when the door to the Captain’s ready room quietly whooshed open. Looking up from the console she’d been inspecting, Nora was surprised and delighted to see a very familiar, and very Cardassian face. “Tojal Varrat,” she said, her smile beaming as she straightened. Although she knew the answer perfectly well, she couldn’t help but playfully ask, “Whatever are you doing here?”

Tojal had known that his old lab partner- and friend, was serving aboard the Malinche but seeing her in person was still a pleasant surprise. It had been more than three years since their last correspondence, mostly due to his being away on a deep space assignment but that didn’t stop the pang of guilt he felt for not contacting her after coming back to civilization. Regardless, they would be serving together for at least a couple years and they had what seemed like all the time in the world to rectify the absence.

“Commander,” Tojal replied as he stood tall at attention. “Permission to speak freely.”

The Ensign at the helm and her counterpart at Operations exchanged glances, uncertain of what to make of the exchange.

Aware that they had an audience, but not quite ready to end the game just yet, Nora gave Tojal a considering look. “In light of our last exchange, I might suggest that you choose your words wisely. But with that said… Permission granted, Lieutenant.”

Tojal stood at ease and allowed himself a little smile, “I still think your argument for the genetic inheritance of Vongor’s disorder is inherently flawed. It is obvious that the symptoms stem from exposure to toxic agents in the environment. Pollen from the Illtara flower, as an example.”

Even with one eyebrow condescendingly raised, Nora couldn’t quite hide a mischievous smile. “Your opinion is duly noted, Lieutenant. However, considering that my work on the subject was published--and very well-received, I might add--you’ll have to forgive me if I still maintain that my hypothesis is absolutely correct.”

“I might have read your work,” he admitted. He had in fact followed her work frequently, or at least whenever the Saratoga had been close enough to the Subspace relay to download the latest medical journals. “-and I suppose that you do make a few good points. I suppose that’s enough for casual academia...”

Nora burst out laughing, unable to keep the ruse of disdainful former colleague up any longer. It was just as well, too, seeing as the other officers on the bridge were emanating a good deal of tension from the exchange. “Casual academia, Tojal? That’s high praise indeed, coming from you,” she grinned.

“If you say so, Ma’am.”

Taking a step closer to the Cardassian so that they wouldn’t be overheard, Nora said quietly, “I think we’re frightening the poor Ensigns. They’ve never seen me take an officer to task.” In a slightly louder tone of voice, she added, “Where are you heading, Lieutenant? I’d be happy to show you the way, if you care for a guide.”

“Sickbay, ma’am,” Tojal responded. “I’ve not introduced myself to my staff and as I understand it our facilities were not fully installed until just yesterday. If you have the time, I’m sure a guide would be helpful.”

“Excellent,” Nora said brightly, gesturing towards the turbolift before leading the way. “You can savage my research to your heart’s content on the way, if you like,” she couldn’t help but add, grinning as the doors slid shut behind them.

Time was an interesting thing, Nora mused as she looked at Tojal standing beside her. So much had happened in the years since she’d last seen the Cardassian, and yet it seemed as though nothing had changed at all. Obviously the rapport they’d developed when stationed together years before remained as strong as ever. “It really is good to see you, Tojal,” she said, simply and sincerely. “I couldn’t quite believe it when I saw your name on the new manifest.”

Tojal met Nora’s gaze and smiled, it really was no accident that he was assigned to the Malinche- there had been other options. None of them would have included a promotion to Chief Medical Officer, so his decision wasn’t entirely based on a friend’s presence but she had certainly been a factor. “Likewise Nora, the truth is that in the last three years all company has been in comparison to yours and all were left wanting.” His smile broadened a little, “I couldn’t find anyone else who debated as well as you did, as hard as it is to swallow my pride being taken down a notch every now and then is a good thing.”

“Such praise,” Nora smirked, though she certainly was warmed by his previous comment. “Well, things are rather different now, aren’t they? We’re both coming up in the world, I’d say.” She could only imagine what he thought of her new role as an Executive Officer. When they’d served together, the very last thing on her mind had been a position in Command. “Are you excited to be the Chief Medical Officer? You’re certainly deserving of it.”

“Kind of you to say so,” Tojal replied. He certainly wasn’t excited, though he knew he should have been. Even after a week his Mother’s words still haunted him, he wouldn’t second guess his decisions in life but he was left to wonder if he was still on the right path. He pushed the thoughts from his mind hoping that Nora hadn’t picked up on the feelings they stirred.

“I only wish to serve,” he answered. “I am gratified that in this capacity I will be able to utilize my skills more fully, sometimes it seems that I’ve been limited in what I could achieve because of the past. I suppose this represents a kind of break from all of that.”

The lightheartedness of their conversation had given way, and Nora could easily sense that something was weighing on Tojal’s mind. Feelings of aggrievement, frustration, and even disillusionment had flared inside of him, so at odds with the genuine pleasure their reunion had stirred moments before. “The decision wasn’t easy for you,” Nora surmised, not wanting to pry but also unwilling to gloss over the matter entirely. “For what it’s worth, I think it’s the right decision. I know you, and I know the good that you can do. The <i>Malinche</i> is lucky to have you, and, if I may be so bold to say, you’ll soon discover that you’re lucky to have the <i>Malinche</i>.”

That Nora had in fact picked up on his momentary lapse didn’t surprise Tojal but that she was so acutely able to interpret his emotion into a near immaculate assumption of his thoughts bordered on disturbing. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, he hadn’t wanted their meeting to become a counseling session but then she probably didn’t want that either- she was just doing what good friends do.

“It will pass,” Tojal replied with a strained voice. He cleared his throat, “-and I’m sure you’re right, you wouldn’t be the first one to extol the valor and virtues of the <i>Malinche</i> to me. If it’s all the same to you though Nora, I’d prefer to deal with this on my own terms. Not that I don’t appreciate your concern, I really will be okay.”

With a nod, Nora let the matter drop. They had time enough now that they were serving aboard the same ship. When and if he wanted to talk about it, Nora would be more than willing to listen. “I know you will be. At any rate, I’m not a counselor anymore, in case you hadn’t heard,” she said, gesturing with feigned nonchalance at the red of her uniform. “We Executive Officers haven’t much time to talk about feelings, I’m afraid. These days I spend most of my time putting together duty rosters and preventing catastrophes.”

Tojal took a step back and surveyed Nora up and down, he had to admit that she wore her new colors exceptionally well. “You’ll have to forgive me, Commander,” he shook his head slowly. “This is going to take some getting used to. You just seem so… Executive.”

Nora chuckled. “Excellent. The uniform’s working, then.” With a quiet sigh, Nora glanced up at Tojal. “To tell you the truth, in some ways I’m still getting used to it myself. I thought I’d be in Counseling for the rest of my career, and I was happy with that. You can imagine my surprise when this new path materialized, seemingly out of thin air.”

The turbolift smoothly came to a stop, having arrived at the deck they’d requested. “I think it’s probably best if you arrive in Sickbay unchaperoned, so to speak. I’m sure you don’t need the XO to introduce you to your new department. But, if you’re free tonight, I’d love to really catch up. It’s been an awfully long time since we last saw each other.”

Tojal stepped out into the corridor leaving the Commander in the turbolift, he smiled and gave her an accepting nod, “I think I would enjoy that, Nora. Well, I should really get to work, I think my second was expecting me a good half hour ago. Until tonight?”

Nora was sure that she would enjoy it as well. “Good. I’d invite you over, but I’ve only just arrived and my quarters are...less than presentable. Why don’t we meet on the Promenade at Deep Space Nine at, oh, let’s say nineteen hundred hours?” At Tojal’s nod, Nora smiled. “Good luck, Lieutenant. Enjoy your new Sickbay.”

“I will do my best, Commander,” Tojal said as he turned to leave. He shot Nora one more smile over his shoulder and disappeared around a corner.


A joint post written by:

Commander Nora Zeral
Executive Officer
USS Malinche

And

Lieutenant Tojal Varrat
Chief Medical Officer
USS Malinche - NCC-38997-A

[Tournneau]

ON:
<<USS Malinche, Main Engineering - Mission Day One - 1630 Hours>>

The engineering compartment bustled with activity. The morning shift was just finishing the process of handing things over to the day shift, and Lt. Commander Tournneau was standing in the middle of it all. He was slowly pacing around the core, watching his department members and the shipyard crews interact with one another. Many of the faces in the room were quite young. Some of these kids still have their spots, Tournneau mused. He could remember when he was fresh out of the Academy - for the first time, anyway - that sense of eagerness, of undaunted willpower. Everything was possible, and we were invincible.

He shook his head and allowed a smirk to cross his face as he watched the members of the relieved shift begin to file out. It was quite different for us back then, though. We were at war, and we were losing. Derek knew that since this was a tactical vessel they were likely to see some combat action, but it would likely not be the constant grind of casualty reports and exploding conduits that was the Dominion War. These kids are going to have it like it was supposed to be. What we didn't have. They have the luxury of being pioneers again.

Derek returned his attention to the engineering room. He was going to allow the crews to settle in to their shift for another thirty minutes or so before he started making his last rounds. He had already been on duty all morning, making a tour of the ship and overseeing some of the final initializations. He planned on making another walk around the ship to visit the day shift before going off duty. It was still the day before the official completion date, but most of the key crew members were embarked and on duty anyway. The shipyard staff had been very good at handing over the ship to the assigned crewmembers, letting them know about any little quirks or issues that had come up during the refit. Tournneau stopped at the central intermix console on the warp core's wooden safety railing. He paused to run a cursory diagnostic on the panel.

After her meeting with Doctor Varrat, Isabel had gone through another report then decided to take a walk. Part of her was excited to see more of the ship and part of her just wanted to go back to her quarters, settle in and relax for the rest of the day. The first part had won out for now and she found herself outside of Main Engineering. She paused briefly, then stepped inside once the doors swished open before her.

Isabel took in the room slowly, letting her eyes sweep across the space. Engineering seemed to be the busiest place she'd seen thus far. Some of the shipyard engineers as well as her crew were working together to finish everything up. She moved towards one of the side consoles and let her fingers glide across the surface, taking a peek into some of the changes.

Tournneau took a PADD out of his jacket pocket to record the intermix data. Satisfied with the drive's intermix readout, he turned from the panel to survey the crew again. He was about to head towards the crew lift to the second level, when he saw a glimpse of red amidst the sea of yellow uniforms. There, working at a console, stood the Captain. Tournneau's pulse quickened slightly. He was caught a bit off guard by Kersare's sudden appearance, especially down in the Engineering section. He had intended to seek her out to officially report in after his day shift rounds, but there was no time like the present; he certainly couldn't ignore her presence. Derek tucked his PADD into his open jacket pocket and made sure that his jumpsuit was zipped up to regulation. He cleared his throat and walked up behind the Captain. He paused.

"Captain Kersare?" he asked, standing at attention. "Lieutenant Commander Derek Tournneau, reporting for duty, ma'am. It's a pleasure to meet you in person, Captain."

Isabel looked up and turned towards the sound of the voice that had addressed her. She re-positioned herself to face him and smiled as he introduced himself. "Ah, Commander Tournneau; it's a pleasure to meet you as well." She offered her hand to shake his, "I actually didn't mean to intrude and I can see you have your hands full...I just thought I'd come down and have a look at what they've done with Engineering. You could report for duty later if that would be better?"

Tournneau stood at ease and took the offered hand, shaking it firmly before releasing it. He was relieved by her friendly demeanor; it confirmed the impression that some of the longer serving crewmembers had given him of her.

"No, it's no trouble at all, Captain. In fact, I was going to try and find you in a few hours anyway," Derek explained. "I am pleased to report that the ship's primary and secondary systems are fully functional and ready for duty. There are still a few tertiary systems and laboratories that need to be finished off, as well as some aesthetic concerns, but nothing that can't be done while we're underway."

"Excellent," she replied, "I'm glad to hear it. I take it you've been here longer than just a day or two then? Have there been any major issues arise or any concerns that you have about what you've seen?" Isabel had actually intended to just pop into Engineering and poke around a little, but obviously her uniform didn't particularly allow her to blend in. Overall it didn't really matter; she would have needed to meet with Derek at some point anyway.

"Actually, so far everything seems to be in tip-top shape - they've really done a great job with her, Captain." Derek looked towards the warp core, its energies swirling in the chamber even at idle speed. "The cores have been completely overhauled and scrubbed, hull plating reinforced and replaced in some sections; the interiors as you have seen have been completely re-done, as well as much of the internal substructure. The ship has been really tightened up and strengthened in the refit, and the systems have been upgraded to the latest specs."

His gaze returned to the Captain. "I've been here for the past two weeks helping the crews get the ship buttoned up. I think you might find the ship to be better than new," Derek said with a small grin spreading from the corners of his mouth. While he didn't want to seem cocky, he did allow himself to display some pride in his work. After all, the Captain had chosen him out of the pool of candidates available for a reason; he didn't want to prove her intuitions wrong.

"Well, it's seems you've certainly had a chance to familiarize yourself with the Malinche. It's good to hear that they've done a good job and it sounds as if you're on top of things as well. Is there anything you need that you don't have, or has the Shipyard personnel taken care of that?" Although it sounded like her new Chief Engineer was well suited to his position, the engineer in her wanted to explore the systems herself. Isabel didn't want it to seem that she was doubting him, however.

"No, I don't think that there are any supplies that we're lacking," Derek reassured. "Most of the crew are embarked, but there are still several people that are not slated to arrive for a few more days, when the USS Io arrives with the last contingent." Tournneau motioned Kersare to look at the MSD on the next console. "But as you can see, the three cores and hulls are behaving themselves and interacting nicely. We do need to run some more simulations over the next couple days, and finally some space trials in system before I would be comfortable with venturing into open space."

Isabel nodded slowly as she looked closer at the MSD. "It's not an easy task getting the various cores behaving nicely. Usually there's some form of slight variance or other oddities that appear. What kind of space trials did you have in mind, Commander?"

Derek thought for a moment. He sidestepped out of the way of the console to make room for a crewmember that had been patiently waiting to the side for the officers to finish. "Well, of course we need to initialize all of the systems and run deep-level diagnostics and simulations - that will probably take two or three days. Once we're ready, we definitely need to run some tests of the propulsion and weapons systems; make a few laps of the star system at impulse and warp, that kind of thing. I also made sure to have the shipyard load twenty extra torpedoes for target practice."

He gestured back to the first console. "We will also need to test the Multi-Vector Assault Mode separation and reintegration cycles at least three times: a static thrusters-only dry run, at full impulse, and at warp. They haven't changed much on the ship in that respect, but you have a lot of new crewmembers - including myself - and I think it would be a good idea to make sure everyone knows the procedure."

"Agreed, practice with MVAM procedures is important, especially for those who have never experienced it before," Isabel said. It took some getting used to, splitting up and putting back together a ship...even when it was designed to do so. "And I'm sure you're not the only one who wants to run her through her paces before we have a real mission. I'd like to see how she does as well. Is there anything else I can do for you or any questions or concerns you have?"

"Nothing as of yet Captain, but I'll be sure to let you know if anything does come up." Tournneau gestured broadly to the room at large. "I think she's as ready to go as she ever will be, ma'am."

Isabel nodded and smiled, letting her eyes move slowly about the room, "Very good. Please do feel free to come to either Commander Zeral or I if you need anything. What do you think of the Prometheus class, Commander?" From what she remembered, he hadn't served on one before and in her experience, people either loved them or hated them...

Derek couldn't help but grin. "I have to say Captain, this ship class is every Engineer's dream. It's a mad idea that's been realized. Having had the experience of being aboard while it was still stripped down has only solidified my admiration for the Malinche. I'm proud to be aboard, and I look forward to seeing what she can do."

"Not everyone would agree with you, but I'm glad you feel that way. It doesn't usually work out very well when the Chief Engineer is annoyed with the ship design. In any event, I should let you get back to your duties. Glad to have you aboard, Commander," Isabel told him. It was comforting to know that he actually liked the Prometheus class. She did, of course, but not everyone shared their enthusiasm for it. Watching it separate and reintegrate, however, was an amazing process.

"Very well, Captain - I look forward to working together." Derek paused. He was surprised by her friendliness - it was very different from most Starfleet captains that he'd met or served with. Certainly, very different from his previous CO on the Oberon, Captain Valek. "Thank you for coming down here. I feel good knowing that the Captain has her finger on the ship's pulse."

He looked up at the second level and smiled. There were some crewmembers in deep discussion over a status console. "Well, yes ma'am, I should get to making my rounds. I'll have a report of today's readiness condition in your inbox later tonight. Again, very glad to serve with you. Thank you for the opportunity." Derek bowed slightly and gave an informal salute, and turned back to the service elevator. He pulled the PADD from his pocket, and allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. He was naturally apprehensive about meeting his new CO, but he felt very at ease interacting with her, at least for this first time. She is a Captain, though - if she has to bring down the hammer, I'm sure she can do so with the best of them. But it's nice to know that she seems to be a real person.

Giving him a nod, Isabel's eyes swept over Engineering one more time before she turned and left. Truthfully, part of her wished she'd been able to be Chief Engineer for a Prometheus class, but commanding one was no less exciting. At least it seemed that her ship was in good hands.

OFF

A Joint Mission Post by:

Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

and

[Brex]

ON: <<USS Malinche - Mission Day 02 - Deck 2-Alpha, Engineering - 0810>>

The turbolift was humming along as Derek was making his morning rounds of the ship - it was the crew’s official first day on duty, and while some of the crew were still not yet slated to arrive, most of the key personnel would be reporting for duty. The corridors were a bit crowded this morning - there were still lots of crewmembers from the shipyard present, scrambling to put the finishing touches on the vessel. Derek had been hard at work the past two weeks, helping the yard crews construct some of the missing ship interiors.

Fortunately, all of the primary and secondary systems had been refit and installed in dry dock, so the ship was ready for any mission, if not entirely up to Federation comfort standards. The Jem’Hadar would have found the ship too comfortable even two weeks ago, Derek mused. Well, at least I was able to move in last week. I think the rest of the staff will appreciate having a place to, you know, sleep.

The car stopped and opened, and Derek got out and headed for the Alpha hull’s Engineering compartment. He wanted to check in with the morning shift’s supervising officer and see how they were finding the ship after the refit. He took his PADD out of his inside jacket pocket and looked down at the officer bio again. Let’s see, ah yes, a certain Aarden Ren, Bajoran. And he’s apparently been serving on the Malinche for quite some time. Derek was especially curious to learn his opinion of the overhaul work. We’re both new to our positions, but he’s got the prior knowledge of this ship to go by, so we’ll see what he thinks of it. Hopefully, he’s not too sour about an outsider coming in to run this baby.

The entry way was only a few meters away from the turbolift, and Derek turned and went in. The Tertiary Engineering section was much smaller than in the other hulls, and its orientation was very different from most Federation ships. To economize space, the warp core ran transversely along the length of the second and third decks. In the Engineering control room, there was a small workspace on the starboard side of the ship with four terminals. The reactor itself ran through one wall and out the other in a roughly cubical space, parallel to the doorway and suspended off of the floor and ceiling. Catwalks ran around the perimeter of the reactor room on the upper deck, with steps to accomodate the curvature of the reactor at the two sidewalls. The control room was on the upper deck and opened directly onto the catwalks, and there were additional terminals on the far side of the reactor, as well as an access ladder to the lower level. Since the nacelles were located directly above and below the sideways reactor, the warp plasma conduits ran from the center of the reactor straight to the floor and ceiling.

Derek came up behind the Bajoran Lieutenant - he was busy helping another crewman at a console. Derek lightly tapped him on the shoulder.

“Lieutenant Aarden, do you have a moment?” Derek asked.

"Commander," Ren (PNPC) said. The young engineer rose from where he had been observing the readouts over the crewman's shoulder. Then he turned around so he could face the new arrival properly. "What can I do for you, sir?”

“At ease, Lieutenant - don’t worry, this isn’t an inspection,” Derek offered, seeing the surprise on the younger man’s face. “I just want to come in and see how you’re fitting in with your team, and what your impressions are on the new refit cores. I understand you have a long history with this ship.”

Ren didn't know what to say at first. The commander's words had taken him by surprise moreso than Tournneau's sudden appearance had. Up to this point, Ren had never once considered himself among the more experienced members of the Malinche's engineering department. That honor was reserved for people like...well...more experienced officers.

The more Ren thought about it, however, the more he realized most of those people were gone. A few had been reassigned or requested transfers before the ship put in for her refit. Some had stuck around through the overhaul, but many of the people he'd served with weren't around anymore. His gaze swept the room once before returning to the commander. "Longer than most, I suppose that's true," he concluded.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Mr. Aarden,” Derek responded. “You’ve been here for nearly three years, and your service record is solid - you’re a bright person, and you know the ship. So, what about it? How have the boys at the shipyard done with the refit?”

A moment passed in silence as Ren pondered the question. On the one hand, the people at Antares Fleet Yards had done a pretty good job bringing everything up to the latest operating specifications. They'd even managed to take care of that intermittent delay in the EPS conduits on deck four that had been around as long as anyone could remember. At the same time, though, some of the new upgrades weren't exactly playing well with existing systems. The Prometheus-class was a complex design, more than nearly any other starship serving in the fleet. All it took was one small misalignment and the whole thing could be thrown out of whack.

"If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear they replaced the entire ship, sir,” Ren told him, “but there’s plenty of the old Malinche left underneath it all. Getting old and new to work together...that’s gonna be real tricky, I think.”

Derek smiled slightly. Just like me and you, in a way. Me and this ship, too. Derek found Ren to be pleasant, but he could tell he was trying to be polite and not complain about the ship. Unfortunately, that’s an engineer’s job. “Well, Lieutenant, let’s get right to it - what are you having a problem with?”

Turning back around, Ren leaned one hand against the edge of the workstation again. With his other arm, he pointed toward the display, just as Crewman Wyatt (NPC) finished running another simulation of the reintegration process. "As I'm sure you're aware, sir, the Multi-Vector Assault Mode is one of the more difficult things we have to deal with around here," Ren began. He paused briefly to watch the final results appear. Another failure.

"I've only been through a few of these myself. The real thing, mind you, not just simulations. Even I know everything has to be just so before we switch over to integrated power distribution," the young engineer continued, "but something about the way they've upgraded the interlink nodes here...here...and here...they aren't lining up."

That’s certainly a problem! Derek was a bit alarmed at first - this would represent a major setback, possibly even sending the ship back to drydock. He allowed Ren to continue.

“If we were to try switching over from this core here to the integrated power systems at this point in the simulation, we’d overload at least a dozen EPS conduits, not to mention risk damage to the core itself.”

Derek sighed, “Okay, let’s pull this apart. Wyatt, run the simulation back.” It’s a good thing that I looked this system over on the journey over, Derek reminded himself. “Okay, stop there.”

The computer readout showed the three hulls come together and lock. The interlinks activated immediately upon engaging, but the simulation showed the EPS systems on every deck overloading soon after. This doesn’t make any sense. These systems are integral to the design. Hold on…

“Is that…” Ren asked, not even realizing he’d spoken aloud.

“Yes it is - Crewman, pull up the parameters of the simulation.”

“Yes, sir,” Wyatt responded. He brought up the display.

“Hmm…” Derek looked through the list. “Yes, here it is - I don’t think we’ll have anything to worry about, Lieutenant. Computer, display a hologram of the warp plasma interlink.” The computer beeped in acknowledgment and a recreation of an interlink channel appeared behind the engineers.

Ren stared at the holo-projection. Now that the highlighted areas were hovering up close and in three dimensions, he could see what they’d been missing. Simulation after simulation had produced almost the exact same results despite their having tried to account for various factors. People said the devil was in the details. Here was proof. He could feel the skin behind his ears grow warm with embarrassment. The answer turned out to be so simple, it seemed foolish they hadn’t noticed it sooner.

“Well, gentlemen, it appears you have two simulations running at once,” Derek soothed. “As you can see, the computer is simulating the interlinks engaging at their highest flow rate while all four cores are also fully active. The problem is here in the parameters - ‘core redunancy’ is set to 100%, not automatic. It’s telling the computer that you want to simulate a total core failure, but all of the cores are still active.”

Derek looked back at Ren - he could tell that he was caught off guard by this revelation. Derek gave a half-smile. “Don’t worry - it’s an easy mistake to make. The simulation parameters aren’t exactly clear on what they ask sometimes.”

“We’re just lucky it was only a simulation,” Ren said as he tried to cover by returning the smile. He meant what he said, though. They would have all been in serious trouble if this had been the real deal. It helped that the commander seemed to be taking it well. The fact that he was being so understanding of the situation made Ren not quite so bad about having missed it in the first place.

“Fortunately, the computer should not let you even touch that parameter in real life. Also, if you look at the diagram, you’ll notice the flow governor on the interlink - it’s there to prevent just such an occurrence - unless, of course, those fail too.” Derek turned to look at the core, its power filling the room with a low thrumming. “At which point, this thing will probably have been ejected into open space anyway. However,” Derek turned back to Ren, “we should still go check this out. Even though the simulation appears bugged, the fact is that it’s still letting it happen is a little troubling. The subroutines are based on the ones that actually run the system.” Derek glanced at the ladder in the corner. “Feel like doing a little crawling?”

Reaching over to disengage the imaging system, Ren gave a single nod of affirmation. It made sense to actually inspect the interlinks in person. The simulation was designed to use real-time data from sensors throughout the actual operating systems which meant the results weren’t simply made-up by the computer. They were the best projections of what might happen. A simulation now could easily become reality later. “I’ll grab a toolkit,” Ren offered.

The two officers headed down the access ladder into the Jeffries tube system. The interlinks were two decks down between the Alpha and Beta cores, so it wasn’t too far of a climb. As they descended, Derek took another look at the core and shook his head. So it begins! He knew that Ren must have felt embarrassed, but secretly Derek felt chagrined as well. I’ve already been on board for two weeks and I haven’t run the reintegration simulation. This is probably just a simple programming error on their part, but it could be something systemic. He looked down at the junior officer waiting for him on the next landing. “All right, Mr. Aarden, I’m glad you caught this. Now, let’s take this thing apart. ”

OFF

A Joint Mission Post by

Lieutenant Commander Derek Tournneau
Chief Engineering Officer

And

Lieutenant JG Aarden Ren (PNPC)
Engineering Officer
Played by: Lt. Brex

[Brex]

ON: <<USS Malinche, Deck 2 Corridor, Day 2, 0924>>

As she made her way down the corridor toward her office, a crate of personal items destined for her office in her arms, Nora couldn’t help the slight spring in her step. Being aboard the Malinche once more really was like coming home, and her return had inspired a lovely sense of overall well-being. It had also, fortunately enough, given the Betazoid a good deal of energy. With the myriad tasks already clambering for her attention, Nora was going to need said energy just to make it through the day.

Not that I mind, she thought to herself with a small smile. The Four Deities only knew that it was a relief to be getting back to work, and it was with no little enthusiasm that she was prepared to dive in. Nora had spent some time this morning bringing some semblance of order and personalization to her quarters, and with the little time left to her before her day began in earnest, she intended to do the same now to her office.

Rounding the corner, Nora slowed her pace a bit, shifting the crate in her arms as she did so. Apparently she wasn’t the only one intending to visit her office. There beside the doors stood a young Denobulan; more specifically, if Nora wasn’t mistaken, the ship’s new Operations Chief. “Good morning,” she said as she approached, smiling. “Were you looking for me?”

The Denobulan turned just in time to see the Malinche's Executive Officer round the corner. Judging by the storage unit she was cradling in her arms, Brex surmised she was still in the process of settling in, just like nearly everyone else aboard ship. "Good morning, commander," he said with a smile, "I hope I haven't caught you at a bad time."

“Of course not,” Nora assured him. “I’ve been indulging in a bit of home décor, you might say.” As impressive as the ship looked following its refit, she couldn’t help her need to add a bit of color to her quarters and office. Perhaps it was the Betazoid in her, but Starfleet ships always had seemed a bit gray for her liking. “It can certainly wait for later, though.”

"I did schedule an appointment," Brex told her.

Brow furrowing a bit, Nora’s smile turned immediately apologetic. This was not precisely the warm welcome she hoped to give to all new and returning crewmembers. “Oh, no. I do apologize, Lieutenant.” Shifting the crate a final time, she stepped forward to open the doors. “Please, come in and make yourself comfortable.”

Brex lingered momentarily upon the threshold of the room before following the commander inside. The office wasn't all that dissimilar to his own in many respects. It appeared just as bright, shiny, and relatively empty as many other areas aboard the ship, a result of the Malinche's recent refit. Something told him it wouldn't take long for the commander to change that, though.

Nora wasted no time in setting her belongings down and reaching for the PADD she’d balanced on top, fingers tapping rapidly as she pulled up her schedule for the day. “And there you are. Lieutenant Brex, oh-nine-hundred hours. I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting for so long.” She was genuinely puzzled as to how she could have missed it when she’d familiarized herself with her schedule the night before and again this morning. Then again, she imagined there would be a fair number of bumps in the road as they settled a largely new crew into a largely new ship.

"Not a problem, ma'am," Brex assured her. He understood well what it was like coming into a new environment, or at least...one that had been significantly altered. Taking another few steps forward, Brex positioned himself immediately in front of the desk. He took his cue from the woman opposite him and remained standing. "I think we're all still getting used to everything around here," he continued as they moved across the room, "whether we're new to the place or not. Overhauls have a tendency to even the playing field when it comes to that kind of thing."

Nora could already tell that she liked this Denobulan very much. Smiling warmly, she inclined her head. “I think you’re right, but I also think you’re very kind to give me the benefit of the doubt. Please,” she added, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of her desk. “Have a seat.” As she sat in her own chair, she couldn’t help but notice that it was somehow more comfortable than the last that had been in her office. Another point in the refit’s favor.

A more formal introduction seemed to be in order. “So, as you’ve no doubt surmised, I’m Commander Nora Zeral, ship’s Executive Officer. And you, unless I’m mistaken, must be Lieutenant Brex, our new Chief of Operations. Welcome aboard, Lieutenant.”

"Thank you, ma'am," Brex replied. They'd managed to smooth over the whole scheduling issue rather quickly. Now they were getting into the original purpose of the visit - meeting one another face-to-face. "I hope I'm not being too forward, but what do you think of her so far?"

“Not too forward at all,” Nora said. “I think the Malinche is a wonderful ship. But then, I am a bit biased; aside from the last ten months, I was with the ship a few years before as well.”

"Of course," the Denobulan smiled, "I meant with the refit and all."

Nora nodded, lacing her fingers together in her lap. “Ah. Well, it’s no secret that I am not a true expert on schematics and systems and such—I was a psychiatrist and counselor before I entered Command,” she explained with a small smile. “But I’ve learned a good deal over the last few years, and everything I was told about the refit still pales in comparison to the reality. The ship looks absolutely beautiful, and I can only imagine how wonderfully it’ll perform under the expertise of you and your department,” she smiled.

"One can learn a lot about a ship from the people who've served aboard her," Brex pointed out. Not that I need to tell her that, he thought silently to himself.

Zeral's answer had already given him some insight into the ship as well as to her. She had confidence in the ship and its crew. This was not the blind trust of someone who hoped things would play out well in the end. It was confidence borne of experience. She also wasn't afraid to acknowledge people's strengths and growing edges, including her own.

"She really is a beautiful ship," he continued, agreeing with Zeral's observation, "and I do hope we can keep her running that way. Which brings me to my next question. How can I be of most service to you during our service together?"

Considering his excellent personnel file, Nora rather thought that she should be asking the same question of him. She’d always been impressed with those who made the running of a complex technological marvel such as a starship look easy. Still, the question was honestly and sincerely asked, and as an Executive Officer and colleague, she would answer him honestly and sincerely in return.

“This may be the Betazoid in me, but I’ve always found that open communication and transparency is key. If there’s ever anything you think I should know, or if there’s anything you ever require of me, please do speak up. Otherwise,” Nora continued optimistically, “I have no doubt that you’ll fulfill your role as Chief of Operations admirably.”

Brex nodded. Again with the vote of confidence, he thought to himself, though he should not have been surprised. There were no pre-existing conflicts between them, no reason either of them had to distrust the other. All they had to do from here on out was to just keep it that way.

"I'll do my best to be as up front with you as possible, ma'am," Brex told her, "and...I do hope you forgive me for how this may sound...please let me know if I ever need to tone it down. In the heat of the moment, sometimes I forget not everyone understands technical languages in the same way."

Nora nodded, laughing quietly. “I’ve been known to do the same with medical terminology. I’ll be sure to ask for clarification, if needed.” Brex seemed to Nora like the sort of person who was very passionate about his work. In her opinion, that was decidedly more of a strength rather than a fault. “Have you had a chance to meet the members of your department yet?”

The Denobulan shook his head from side to side. He'd taken most of the previous day attending to other matters like getting his cabin assignment and making sure his belongings arrived. There had been a brief moment later in the afternoon when Brex had managed to swing by the office and at least poke his head in. However, there hadn't been anyone there.

"No, ma'am. I'm afraid I haven't yet."

“Not to worry,” Nora said with a smile. “There’s time for that yet. In fact, if you’d like to go and meet them now, I won’t keep you. At the very least, I’m sure you’re eager to get to know the lay of the land, so to speak."

They seemed to have reached a natural conclusion to their conversation. Brex had gotten pretty good at recognizing such things over the years. It was clear from Zeral's remarks that she'd noticed it as well. Neither of them could really say much more with regard to departmental operations at this point, at least not until they'd both had more of a chance to settle in. No doubt they would be meeting again soon for that very purpose.

"Well..." Brex said, rising to his feet, "it has been a pleasure meeting you, commander. Thank you for allowing me a few moments of your time."

“Of course,” Nora replied, rising to her feet as well to escort the Denobulan to the door. “And thank you for being so understanding about my lateness.” She wasn’t so sure many would have been quite so indulgent, and the fact that Brex showed such equanimity boded well for a successful working relationship. All the same, she looked forward to proving to him that she didn’t make a habit of missing appointments. “It was lovely meeting you too, and I hope you enjoy settling into your new department.”

OFF

A Joint Mission Post by

Commander Nora Zeral
Executive Officer

and

[Kersare]

ON:

<<Deep Space 9, Promenade, Day 2, 1130>>

Making her way down the familiar corridors, Awen (PNPC) eventually found herself on the Promenade of Deep Space 9. She'd spent the last month on Bajor, visiting her family and generally taking some time off before her next assignment. Weaving through the crowd, she made her way to one of the upper levels of Quark's and found a table. It was still a bit early for lunch, so it wasn't as busy as it could have been, but experience told her it would soon be filled and she wanted to be out of the way.

A waitress appeared a few minutes later; Awen ordered hasperat soufflé and springwine. A glass of the pale blue drink arrived shortly afterward and she slowly sipped on it while she waited for her food, her thoughts wandering.

It had only been a few years since her sabbatical from StarFleet after the...situation aboard the Pandora. Of course, when she returned, Awen had been assigned to a smaller vessel and found herself not only serving as Executive Officer but also as Chief Science Officer. It had been quite awhile since she'd been in a Science department, despite it being her major in Academy. Her talents during the Occupation had convinced some of her previous Commanding Officers to place her in Security/Tactical instead. She would always have a fascination with Science, she suspected, and enjoyed the subject matter, but the Bajoran also knew she was well suited for Security/Tactical.

Being Executive Officer, however, had been a bit unnerving for her. Partly due to the less than ideal circumstances regarding her promotion to the position on the Pandora and partly she preferred working with a smaller group and not having administrative duties over the entire ship. Awen had expressed this to StarFleet before, which is why the offer they'd made her was all the more surprising.

They had wanted to give her command of a starship. Prometheus class.

Awen shook her head slightly and polished off the springwine. The waitress brought her food over as well as a refill for her drink. Quietly she began eating the hasperat soufflé; as usual it was rather good. A bit more spicy than she personally liked, but it was a spicy dish, after all. She ate slowly, savoring it, allowing the food to briefly distract her.

When they offered her command, and a promotion, she'd asked them to repeat it. Apparently they had, in fact, been serious. Awen had been tempted to turn it down on the spot, but decided to sleep on it instead. The end result was the same. She still wasn't comfortable with StarFleet politics and wasn't convinced she was truly up for the job.

Logically, she knew that if she wanted to further her career, the only positions to go to were in command. Perhaps remaining a department head would be better for her, though. At least, that's what she told herself. The few people she had told about the command offer thought she was crazy to pass it up. Still, she felt she made the right choice.

That choice had brought her back to Deep Space 9 and her homeworld, at least temporarily. Awen was now assigned to the USS Malinche as Chief Security/Tactical Officer. Technically both that position and Chief Science had been available, but on a tactical starship it made more sense to fill Security/Tactical first. If need be, she could always switch, if the ship was still without a Chief Science Officer.

Awen wasn't due to report in until the afternoon, but had already decided to go over early so she could try to sort out her quarters at least. If there was time, she might make some rounds of the ship and check out her department facilities. If not, she could always do it in the evening. The ship would be quieter and she could go at her own pace, rather than potentially being in the way of those still finishing up the refit.

The Bajoran frowned. She wondered if the Captain was aware she had been offered her own starship. Awen wasn't particularly looking forward to explaining why she had turned it down. Perhaps it wouldn't come up though and she could just go about her duties.

Her meal finished, Awen paid her bill and quietly made her way out of Quark's. Perhaps she could find something for her new quarters or her office in one of the shops. A quick diversion before officially going to her new assignment.

OFF:

Commander Fala Awen (PNPC)
Chief Security/Tactical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

played by:

[Brex]

ON: <<Main Bridge, USS Malinche, Mission Day 02, 1357 hours>>

One of the first things Brex noticed when he emerged from the turbolift was how quiet the Malinche's bridge seemed to be. The ship's Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Commander Tournneau, hadn't been exaggerating when they'd spoken the previous morning. All throughout the ship, people were working hard to wrap things up from the recent overhaul. Most of the heavy lifting had long since been completed, but there was still plenty to be done before they'd be ready for departure. Places like Main Engineering, the shuttlebay, even corridors were abuzz with activity.

At the same time, the relative peace of the bridge was not entirely unexpected. There was obviously no need for it to be fully staffed while the Malinche was still docked. The holographic viewscreen was inactive, revealing only the plain forward bulkhead of the room. Most of the consoles were dark. Those that were operating displayed various results from system diagnostics. Ordinarily, the room would have been fully staffed for Alpha watch with no less than eight officers and enlisted personnel monitoring various systems, studying incoming data, or coordinating work projects among the different departments. Brex counted half that.

The room itself was laid out fairly similarly to what Brex remembered of his previous assignment. Operations and Flight Control were located furthest forward. This was where Brex could expect to spend most of his time whenever he was on the bridge. A series of workstations along the port and starboard bulkheads provided access to a wide variety of systems including those affiliated with the Engineering and Science departments. Perhaps the most noticeable difference, however, was the absence of a curved wooden railing. Aboard the Lysithea, this prominent feature had wrapped around the central Command area and contained a unified Tactical console. The Malinche's Tactical console, on the other hand, had been split into two separate stations. These were located on either side of the central Command area facing inward. It was something Brex was just going to have to get used to seeing was all.

He proceeded slowly around the upper level, directly in front of the Master Systems Display, before making his past several engineering stations and arriving outside the door to the captain's Ready Room.

<<Ready Room>>

Isabel finally put down the last of the reports she'd needed to catch up on. Truthfully she probably could have powered through them yesterday, but instead had decided to get settled into her revamped quarters, take a brief tour of her refitted ship, and review the new personnel files. And Isabel had met some of the new crew as well. It had been a very busy first day, so today she'd taken it easy in the morning.

Just as she took a deep, calming breath, she heard her door chime. Probably another crewmember checking in...or so she hoped. It would be rather disappointing if it was actually Britney (NPC) bringing her more reports after she'd finally gotten through the initial ones. "Come in."

"Good afternoon, captain," Brex started to say. He paused again. This was his first time meeting the captain face-to-face. It just now occurred to him that perhaps he should have arranged the meeting with the yeoman instead of showing up unannounced. Then again, that hadn't made a whole lot of difference when it came to his earlier meeting with Commander Zeral. Schedules had been confused, but it had all worked out in the end. Besides, different people preferred to handle these things differently. There wasn't anything he could do about it now.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he added quickly.

Isabel shook her head, "No, no, I just finished up going through the reports that were waiting for me when I arrived. Please, come in and have a seat." Although he hadn't introduced himself, the fact that the man was in services gold and a Denobulan gave her an idea of who he was. "Lieutenant Brex? Operations?"

"Yes, ma'am." Brex stepped forward as he spoke. It only took a couple of strides for him to cross the short distance from the doorway to the front of the desk. There, he took a seat in one of the available chairs so that he was facing the captain. "I came aboard yesterday morning," he told her, recalling the somewhat interesting turbolift ride up from the docking ring, "Thought about dropping by first thing, but when I realized you'd only just arrived yourself, I decided perhaps not. Afterall, I would imagine captains need as much chance to settle in as the rest of us."

"I appreciate that, Lieutenant. Did you take some time to settle in yourself, then?" Isabel asked. "And can I get you anything?" She stood and walked over to the replicator, ordering a hot chai tea while she waited for his responses. The aroma made its way to her and she smiled slightly. It had been awhile since she'd had chai tea, oddly.

"No, thank you."

Nodding, Isabel made her way back to her desk, setting down her tea. As she stirred in a little cream and sugar, she looked back at up him. "So, settled in?"

"Commander Tournneau mentioned something about his quarters being taken over by furniture," Brex continued with a chuckle, "but I've not had any difficulties thus far. In fact, Miss Sorenski (NPC) was most helpful getting me situated yesterday."

"I'm glad to hear that," Isabel smiled. Mara was generally pretty good at her job. "I imagine the furniture situation should be sorted out shortly. I'll have to touch base with Commander Tournneau about it. In any event, have you had a chance to meet anyone from your department or check out the Malinche's facilities for Operations?"

"I have," Brex replied. The actual facilities themselves weren't all that different from most other ships he'd served aboard. In fact, based on what Brex had seen so far, they were rather typical for a vessel of the Malinche's size and configuration. That is, aside from everything being tripled on account of the Multi-Vector Assault Mode. Come to think of it...there were few other starships that required such complex redundancy except perhaps the Galaxy and the Sovereign-class vessels. There was also talk of a newer designs, like the Legacy and Insignia-classes, that were said to be among the most advanced starship designs ever produced. Regardless, Brex was confident he'd be able to pick things up fairly quickly.

Realizing that he'd started to wander, Brex immediately put a stop to that particular line of thinking. He brought his attention back to the moment and focused on the question at hand. "Spent most of the morning there, actually," he said, "well...here and there. We've got our fingers in a few different pots, to borrow a human turn of phrase."

Isabel nodded, "And how did you find the facilities? Anything you're missing or would like to have that isn't available?"

"I understand we're still waiting on several personnel transfers," the Denobulan remarked.

"Yes, that is my understanding," she replied. "There may be a couple more coming soon, but we do still have some important positions to be filled. I believe you're missing an Assistant Chief, for one thing. I'm afraid I've not looked overly closely at what other positions need filled in your department, though."

Thirty hours or so was hardly enough time for Brex to get any meaningful sense of the people serving in his department. Between those returning from shoreleave, those arriving from other postings, and the positions still needing to be filled, it did seem a little thin for his liking. However, he was confident they could rectify the situation before their scheduled departure. "I'm not too worried," he told her, "in fact, I'd be willing to offer a few suggestions, if you're open to them."

"Oh?" Isabel raised an eyebrow. "What suggestions did you have? Mostly I've asked the personnel department to fill any vacancies from Operations based on the department make-up we've used before. But if you feel we should add or modify some of them..."

"Actually, I'm more concerned about the Science department."

That threw her a little. As far as she remembered from his service record, Brex had always been in Operations. It seemed a bit odd that he would have some suggestions for the Science Department. "The Science Department? Why? I'm sure we'll fill in the spots there much like in Operations. And some of the department from before is staying."

"...but not a department head." Brex knew it was entirely possible he was crossing a line. Determining senior staff assignments was a matter for the Commanding Officer. Depending upon the captain, they may or may not take input from their Executive Officer before making a decision. Most didn't appreciate others telling them what they should or shouldn't do. At the same time, however, Brex had been giving the matter a lot of thought. A conversation with one of the junior science officers in astrometrics was what finally made him realize something needed to be done before they left Deep Space Nine.

"The Malinche's no research vessel, I'll grant you that," he continued, choosing his words carefully, "but that doesn't mean we aren't dependent upon the Science department. I guess what I'm trying to say - and forgive me if I'm overstepping - is that I'd be willing to help keep an eye on things. That is, until we can find someone more appropriate to fill the position."

"True, we are lacking an official department head. Lieutenant Sovak (NPC) has covered before temporarily, but it's been awhile since we've had an actual Department Head there," Isabel replied thoughtfully. "No offense, Lieutenant, but what qualifications do you have to oversee the Science department, even on a temporary basis? While we aren't a research vessel, their work isn't all just general science. Or what exactly did you have in mind by 'keeping an eye on things'"?

"My background is in Computer Science with advanced studies in Engineering," Brex explained, "which includes physics as well as subspace and quantum mechanics. Additionally, I have also done some personal study in the fields of astrophysics, biology, and chemistry. I have fourteen years experience as a supervisor and administrator including eight years leading departments aboard starships in the field. My most recent assignment was a three-year exploratory mission aboard the Lysithea during which I spent considerable time working closely with my colleagues in that vessel's Science department..."

Brex paused. He had just volunteered a great deal of information in a short amount of time. It was undoubtedly bold of him to be speaking so candidly during his first face-to-face meeting with the captain. Despite the risk of sounding overly self-serving, however, he didn't want to leave Kersare with the impression he would be withholding anything from her. At least, not in private anyway.

Isabel listened closely as Brex rattled through a fairly thorough list. Obviously some of what he mentioned wouldn't have shown up in his service record and, besides that, she didn't usually go looking for a person's qualifications into a department other than the one they were assigned to. At least not at first. "Well, I certainly don't doubt your experience as far as leading departments, Lieutenant. And working with the Science department from your previous ship is also helpful," she replied thoughtfully. "Let me check with StarFleet Personnel to see if they had any candidates that were potentially coming available soon, for starters. I'd also like to speak with Lieutenant Sovak about it and if we did this, in one form or another, your main focus would still need to be on Operations."

"Of course, captain," Brex said, "Just wanted to mention it while I had the chance. I hope I've not been too forward..."

"I understand," Isabel told him. "I can't say I've come across a department head that offered to take on another department as well his first day on the job, but I do appreciate your offer to help out." She offered a smile, "I'll look into it and we can discuss it further. Is there anything I can do for you for your current department, or do you have any questions or concerns I should know about?"

Brex took a moment to ponder the question. He had just laid out what he believed to be a reasonably convincing case as to why the captain should consider him for temporary supervision of the Malinche's Science department. It was only fair she expect him to be able to account for his own, first.

"Everything seems to be pretty much in order," Brex replied. It was an accurate assessment, aside from waiting on additional personnel and supplies to arrive. A quick look at the work of his predecessors, most notably a Lieutenant Schulz and a Lieutenant JG Davis, had given him a pretty good idea of the ship's status going into the refit. They had managed to keep the department fairly well on track, all things considered. Now it would be his job to make sure it stayed that way.

"There will probably be a few post-refit hiccups, but nothing that can't be smoothed out."

Isabel nodded, "That's to be expected. I know Commander Tournnueau would like to run the ship through her paces in the system before we go on an actual mission as well. I'm sure we'll get everything sorted out. Are there any questions you have, Lieutenant?"

"If I do have any questions, I'll let you know," Brex assured her.

"Alright, please do. If there's nothing else, I suppose I should let you get back to work. It was a pleasure meeting you, Lieutenant Brex," Isabel said, standing as she offered him her hand for a handshake and smiled.

The Denobulan rose to his feet along with the captain. He took Kersare's hand in his and gave it a firm shake. Then he returned her smile with one of his own. "Likewise, captain," Brex told her, "I'm glad we were finally able to meet face-to-face."

OFF

A Joint Mission Post by

Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer

and

Lieutenant Brex
Chief Operations Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A