NOVEL WEB Captains Log and Chapter 1.
Captains Log
*Dictated in turbolift 1, enroute to the bridge, at 12:36 shipboard time on Stardate 2260.103*
Captain Niah Zh'kaarrin, Captain USS Resolute, Fourth Fleet, KLICOM recording. We have been ordered to the Federation colony of New Jerusalem alongside the USS Aurora. Our ships are racing to this colony at high warp, our cargo bays filled to bursting with emergency supplies for the people of New Jerusalem.
The colony world of New Jerusalem itself is a joint Human/Bolian colonial project found on the edge of the disputed region of space between the Federation, Klingon Empire and Romulan Star Empire referred to as the Triangle. After the Federation's resounding defeat at Caleb IV the colony has found itself a mere six hours from the so-called “T’kuvma line”, the unilaterally declared new borders of the Klingon Empire. With the Klingons redrawing the borders in the Triangle, many Federation colonies are finding themselves on the front line of this new cold war. The fact that the colony is home to over thirty thousand Suliban adds an added level of risk. The Klingons annexed Ellec-vell, the supposed capital of the Suliban Union last year and have been “relocating” the Suliban to use as slave labor inside of the Empire. Starfleet is sure the Orion’s will make a play for some if not all of the population and I agree with that conclusion. President Th’rhahlat was right to grant the Suliban associate citizen status earlier this year, no peoples anywhere in the galaxy should suffer under the bonds of slavery, regardless of if they are Federation citizens or not.
I am apprehensive about this mission; the Federation has had little contact with the people of this world in the last year. As I understand they are a tight knit religious community based on one of the old Human religions. I do not know how they will react to their newfound danger, but I am confident Federation goodwill and generosity will prevail.
Despite all of that, I am excited about the possibility of seeing Cserr Aleya, the captain of the Aurora. We are old friends. Perhaps if this mission goes well, I will be afforded some downtime to spend with her…
Chapter 1
“Captain on the bridge” The call from the security officer rang out over the bridge. While this is standard Starfleet procedure, few ships follow it, especially when not at war or at red alert. I prefer the formality however, as my family comes from the Imperial Guard and I prefer a certain level of decorum on the bridge. Plus, it doesn't hurt to remind the crew that the captain is the master of the ship, apart from the rest of the crew. The bridge itself is a hive of activity, Beta shift, under the command of my First Officer, Marcus Fane, was currently on duty. I swept my eyes over all the stations as I stepped out of the turbo lift, Engineering, Ops, Tactical, Navigation, Science, Communications, all staffed, with junior officers and yeomen darting between them. Despite being with this crew for only six months, at this point I knew they were ready for whatever this mission threw at us. It was unfortunate that Klingon Command, or KLICOM, to which the USS Resolute belongs, was short on ships after the disaster at Caleb IV. This meant that larger, more self-sufficient ships like the Resolute are forced to respond to crises alone or with limited backup. Though we didn't know if this qualified as a crisis yet, I had my suspicions.
I took my chair at the center of the controlled chaos that is a Starfleet bridge, exchanging it with my first officer. The big chair can be uncomfortable and isolating. No stations can view it without turning to face it, which gives me privacy when needed. However, it also forces me to watch over the backs of my crew, a fact I know makes some of them uncomfortable. Marcus returned to his station in the auxiliary CIC found aft of the main bridge. Nimitz class ships were designed for fleet coordination along with long range command and control missions. Usually commanded by Commodores or Admirals, they were fitted with additional stations to the aft of the bridge to support these missions. Now that the new Marvick warp drive ships like the Constitution class have started leaving Spacedock, everyone with three bars or more on their wrists were looking to transfer their flag to one of those newer ships. Which did create opportunities for junior Captains like me to command ships that would normally be reserved for the First Fleet or large scale fleet action. Though today the fleet I commanded was much smaller than what the Resolute had been designed for.
“Mr. Grolik, what is the status of the Aurora?” I spoke. The USS Aurora, an Engle class light cruiser, was our backup on this mission.
“Still over two hours behind us,” my communications officer replied promptly. I smiled inwardly. My crew was finally starting to predict what I would need. Our brief shakedown had been rocky, both with the Resolute starting to show her age and my crew's unfamiliarity with one another. Many of them were new to the Resolute. Commodore Wesley had transferred most of his senior staff to the USS Lexington earlier this year. This meant I hadn’t known anyone on board the day I took command. This added an additional level of risk to the mission, as having a crew and a Captain that were still learning to work with each other would mean we would be slower to react in a crisis. They were all fine officers, but Starfleet simply did not have the ships to spare for the crew and I to get to know each other on a standard shakedown cruise.
"Would you like me to hail Captain Aleya for you?” he continued.
“No Lieutenant.” I replied. That was a bit presumptuous. I turned my attention to the two stations between myself and the viewscreen. “Navigation, how long until we enter the orbit of New Jerusalem?” I had a guess, based on the course and speed we were traveling on, but as my old friend and mentor Captain Zu’hallat had always said, junior officers should always be included, to make sure they know they are a valuable part of the crew.
“8 minutes out on my mark…mark.” The young officer, Lieutenant Phillips replied. I was wrong, my quick math had us still at half an hour out. I felt heat rush to my cheeks and antennae and was at that moment very grateful that the bridge designers had positioned all the bridge stations with their backs to me. Well, I wouldn't have to busy myself with much between now and our arrival, so I decided to stay on the bridge instead of retreating to the much desired privacy of my cabin. I called up a status monitor on my chair, taking a quick inventory of ships systems, giving extra attention to our tactical systems. We may need them if the colony's report of Orion warp signatures was to be believed.
“Captain?” I heard a voice call to me. I realized I had just been idly flicking the controls of my chair between torpedo tube status and phaser control room reports. I flushed again, blaming the heat. Starfleet keeps its ships so damn hot, and I didn’t want to wear a personal cooling unit in front of my new crew yet. This heat also always made my leg burn, the old wound from 2257 hated the heat more than I did. I recognized the voice, it was my science officer.
“Yes Commander?” I reply curtly, not using her name, though using the informal shortening of her rank of Lieutenant Commander to avoid sounding too severe.
“Long range sensors have confirmed the colony's reports of Orion warp signatures.” I swallowed hard. She continued “though they appear to be freighters, moving on a parallel course to the T’kuvma line.” I didn't like that we were already accepting the Klingons name for their forced annexation of almost half a sector of space in the Triangle. Caleb IV was only two months ago.
“Keep a sensor lock on those ships, I wouldn't be surprised if they turned and made a run for the border.” I replied. The Orion’s often masked their warp signatures as other ships, Naussicans, Rigellians, even sometimes Klingons or Tellerites. Blockade runners appearing to be freighters certainly wouldn't be beyond their ability.
“We are arriving at the New Jerusalem system.” Lieutenant Phillips called out, snapping me out of my thoughts. I could feel eyes on the back of my neck and turned to meet the gaze of my First Officer. He had swiveled his chair to face me from his station. I couldn't read the expression on his face, almost like he was asking me to do something. A brief smile crossed his features.
“Yellow Alert” Commander Fane called, and the wall lights flashed. Right, I had meant to order the crew to stand to Yellow Alert upon arrival. I cursed inwardly, why was I so distracted today? I turned my chair back to face the viewscreen, and as the ship transitioned out of subspace, I caught my reflection mirrored back to me by the screen. I am not particularly tall for an Andorian, though I am taller than most of the human and Tellarite crew I serve with. I keep my hair short cropped with a part to the left, not for vanity or the like, simply because it is easy to manage. That it appears to be a personal interpretation of a traditional Andorian military style is intentional and I am aware it frames my face well. To allow myself a moment of vanity, I do appreciate how well the pale blue that dusts the tips of my otherwise white hair pairs well with the gold of my new command uniform. I do not miss the older blue uniforms, we Andorians looked ridiculous in them, though I refuse to wear the new skirts outside of dress uniform events. A Captain should not have to worry about her uniform riding up while commanding a ship locked in a life and death struggle with the Klingons or being leered at by a dignitary or ambassador while on duty. I was not the only officer to feel this way, so I extended the uniform options to all members of my crew. I only care that you do your job well, not if you wore a skirt or pants while you did it. All of that being said, I did care about the eye bags I could see staring back at me, could that be why I’m having so much trouble focusing today? I have been sleeping well enough, perhaps it was just the heat. I made a note to stop by sickbay after this was all behind us.
At a loss for something to pass the time with, I called up the file on the colony’s government on my chair's data display. I had neglected to do this in the rush to depart Starbase 10 and decided to start from the top with the colony’s administrator. The Bolian administrator, Tet Rator, was a career politician who had apparently recently found themself attracted to an old human faith and had moved themself and their co husbands and co wives out to New Jerusalem to fully explore it. The Starfleet dossier identified them as friendly, a competent administrator and a strong advocate for the people under their charge. Good, I could work with that.
“Captain, we are being hailed by the colony, Administrator Tet Rator wishes to speak with you.” Lieutenant Grolik's voice broke my concentration. I was nowhere close to finishing reading the entire personnel file and now I was faced with having to speak with them. Not like I had a choice now.
“Onscreen '' I replied. The viewscreen flickered between the steadily growing ball that was the New Jerusalem colony to instead show a Bolian dressed in simple robes clapped with a complex cross symbol at the nape of the neck. “Administrator Rator, this is Captain Niah Zh'kaarrin of the USS Resolute. We’re responding to your government's request for aid from Starfleet as well as investigating the threat of Orion pirates operating near your planet.”
“Captain!” They responded, “may the Lord's blessing be with you.” I shuddered slightly at this. Religion, even Vulcan mysticism, has never sat well with me. They continued seemingly not noticing my reaction. “And thank God that you have arrived. The rumors of Orion slavers coming to take our Suliban guests from New Jerusalem continue to circulate. As well as the sudden change in the proximity of the Klingon border has caused quite a panic down here. We are grateful that Starfleet could spare such ships to protect so many of its citizens.” I didn't like their tone. They would have been able to detect that it was just the Resolute and the Aurora, two of Starfleet's older ships approaching the colony, not top of the line space frames. Barely stopping for a breath, they continued speaking before I could respond.
“Captain, it strains me to ask this, but our security forces are small and spread thinly, we, well, need help keeping the peace in some of our less integrated areas. All of these recent events have created a sense of panic in these areas.” Integrated, a strange choice of words. I thought for a moment about investigating this in my reply but decided against it. We would have plenty of time once we arrived.
“We would be happy to help, Administrator, I will be beaming down with a landing party shortly to discuss the finer details of your security situation as well as to establish a defensive policy in case any pirates do happen to show up.” A look crossed their face when I mentioned I would be beaming down personally, though I couldn't decide exactly what it meant at this moment.
“Of course, Captain,” they replied flatly, not providing any clue as to what their previous expression had meant. “We will prepare a reception for your arrival. Rator out” I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and got out of my chair.
“Commander Fane, prepare security teams three through seven for immediate deployment to the surface, and select an additional four to be on standby. Tactical, Science, you're with me, Number One you have the bridge.” As I called out orders, I walked towards the turbolift, the door opening as I finished. Following my lead, both my science and tactical officers jumped up from their chairs, junior officers filling in at their stations. The requested officers joined me in the turbolift. I called out “Armory” as I grasped the turbolift control as the doors hissed shut in front of us.
The turbolift ride to the armory passed in silence and I found myself staring at the lights that streaked past on the walls, the only sign of our progress through the ship. With a hiss the door opened again, and we walked the short distance to the armory through corridors that were usually bustling but were now silent since the entire crew stood to their duty stations. As the armory doors opened the silence gave way at once to the cacophony of the armory where three of the security teams I had asked for were gearing up.
“Captain on deck!” one of the officers called and eighteen voices suddenly quieted as I entered. I pushed through the press of bodies, acutely aware of the ritual I had interrupted. Eighteen officers in various stages of undress, changing from their duty uniforms into the black combat uniforms and body armor that had become standard during the Klingon war. This was not an uncommon occurrence, a starship is not a place with a lot of privacy, especially for junior or enlisted ranks. I had been a security officer in what felt like a lifetime ago and remembered well the carefree excitement of arming up before a mission. All of the good natured posturing, bravado and shared camaraderie were essential to the functioning of combat units, and no different, in purpose at least from the staff briefings of the engineering department or the standups favored by the sciences. However, I was the captain now, and these rituals were not for me anymore. I could see from the few faces that turned to look my way that at least a few of them showed their discomfort at my presence openly while others were trying to conceal smiles from jokes told the instant I had walked in. I wanted to be fast to give them time to be with each other. I didn't know what kind of danger we could be headed towards, and they deserved their fun before they had to face it.
“As you were.” I said as I arrived at the phaser rack. The security teams returned to their preparations, though with a substantially less boisterous atmosphere. I hoped it would return once I left. I selected a hand phaser as well as a holster belt for it and my communicator along with an engineering tricorder. I decided I would forgo the body armor. I didn't like the message it would send to the population of New Jerusalem that a Starfleet captain would beam down in full armor ready for a fight. Even if there was a chance that was what we were getting ourselves into. My science officer arrived at the rack next to mine. She secured her own phaser and a science tricorder, and she too forwent body armor though honestly, I was unsure as to why. She had no reason to be concerned with the colony’s impression of her. Perhaps she was simply following my lead?
With both of our gear secured we turned and made to leave the armory. As we arrived at the exit we were joined by my Tactical officer. Lieutenant Risi, a gigantic Saurian, red scales mottled in a similar way as a Terran coral snake and pupil-less black eyes the size of my fist. He cut an intimidating figure even amongst the other Starfleet tactical officers we were surrounded by. He had seen fit to draw a full phaser rifle alongside armor with webbing. Clearly, he was preparing for anything. I couldn't blame him. On landing parties like this the unofficial title of the accompanying security personnel was “Captains bodyguard” and was something we had all taken deadly seriously. Out of the two hundred crew of the Resolute, down on the surface he was that last person between any enemies and my death.
“Carry on” I stated as we stepped out of the armory, my science and tactical officers falling in behind me.
“Ma’am, the Resolute has received updated situation reports from the surface, would you like to review them before we beam to the surface?” My science office spoke from behind me. I could hear her working the controls of her tricorder, no doubt reviewing the data for the first time, even as she asked.
“Certainly Commander,” I brought us to halt just before the turbolift and turned to face my officers. Lieutenant Risi's face was unreadable as always, but Lieutenant Commander Yamia Foro’s round face was scrunched up in focus, clearly something in these reports had caught her attention.
“Captain, I think I know what the Administrator meant when they stated they were having issues with the less ... integrated zones” I could see she was being careful with her words, though I wasn't sure if it was for my sake or for avoiding misspeaking. She continued.
“Apparently the Suliban have not taken to the religious traditions of the colony and live in the city's outskirts. The colony itself is over forty years old and built to Federation standard, but the conditions in the Suliban districts are much newer and appear closer to refugee camps. Petty crime, gang activity, inconsistent access to clean water, food and power appears rampant.” She looked up and met my gaze, her face formed into a scowl. “Sorry Captain, I’m just surprised honestly, this is a Federation planet, and while it looks like the Suliban population did grow substantially in the last year, this still isn't right. This is supposed to be the petty privation we’ve already eliminated, even out this far.”
I smiled. “I agree, Commander, and it will certainly need to be addressed when we meet with Administrator Rator. Though we may be able to help in the meantime, and not just with keeping the peace.” I leaned towards the wall, triggering the comms panel to call up my Number One “Commander Fane, this is the captain.”
“Yes Captain?” His normally deep voice was made tinny and small by the wall speaker.
“I’ve just reviewed the updated situation reports sent to us by the colony. This may also develop into a humanitarian mission, if these reports are to be believed. Coordinate with the doctor. Once I give the all clear, prepare landing teams to inventory the most pressing needs of these people and see what us or the Aurora can assist with. As well, launch a flight of shuttles to provide picket and sensor cover. If those freighters turn out to be Orion, and we have most of the crew working on relief efforts, I want as much warning as possible.”
“Understood, good luck to you and your teams on the ground, Captain.” He replied, closing the link. I turned back to my science officer.
“Anything to add Commander?”
“Nothing pertinent Captain.” She replied, and I could see her smile as she turned away. She was clearly pleased that she was directly contributing to helping these people, which was good. Starfleet is an exploration and humanitarian organization in its soul, despite what has happened in these last years. It always feels right to be operating on those core principles. I removed my hand from the comm panel and strode onto the turbolift and we resumed our progress towards transporter room two. The rest of the journey was spent in silence, each of us performing last minute checks of our equipment, Commander Foro busying herself with last minute tricorder calibrations, while Lieutenant Risi adjusted the fit of his combat webbing to better settle onto his bulk. I fidgeted with the safety selector of my phaser, still in its holster. Certainly not the safest calming activity, but I’d developed it during the war, and it certainly worked for me. With a woosh the turbolift doors opened, and we stepped out into another halfway as bare as the one before the armory. Turning to our left the transporter room doors opened in front of us.
“Chief set coordinates for the administrative plaza, bring us in as close as you can.” I told the transporter chief. With an aye-aye ma’am, he punched in the coordinates and stood ready to beam us down. I looked to my officers on my left and right.
“Energize.” and the world disappeared in a swirl of light.