Act II – Changing of the Guard
Day
-3
Captain Stephen
Drake leaned back in his chair as he regarded the computer display in
front of him. Twenty-four hours ago, he had been a commander in
charge of a light cruiser that undertook routine patrol and
assistance missions, almost entirely in the Beta sector, and had been
responsible for a couple of hundred crew. Now he was a captain,
sitting in a surprisingly smart and well-appointed temporary office
on Earth Spacedock – he would have to remember to thank Zhivkov for
that – having just carried out his fifth interview of the evening
for the positions of department heads on a state-of-the-art research
and science vessel that was expected to spend the next five years
on-mission. It was a lot to take in.
Still, the
interviews had gone well. All the promoted personnel had been
delighted – not just with the promotion, but also with the
knowledge that their commanding officer valued them enough to want
them to accompany him on his new commission. As Tarsi predicted, Lt
Seaholm had been happy with the reduction in role from department
head to deputy and had said that he still saw it as a promotion of
sorts, considering the vessel and mission he was being assigned to.
T’Met had been delighted to be offered the Chief Medical Officer
post and had even smiled, albeit briefly.
All in all, nine
members of the Trent’s crew had joined Drake and Tarsi in
transferring to the Wakefield – the heads of departments
that they had discussed together, and Lieutenants Seaholm and Flores.
Now he just had
chief security and tactical officers to interview, a deputy chief
engineer to approve – a Cardassian by the name of Jila Tele who
came highly recommended and who had already applied for the transfer
prior to Drake’s accepting the commission – and nine Romulan
exchange officers to meet. And then there was the Wakefield’s
new Head of Intelligence – another Cardassian, Lt Nereda had been
appointed to the ship by the Brass rather than at Drake’s request.
Although as Nereda was coming over from Section 31, her paperwork
stated her to have transferred to a different ship in an entirely
different sector. Drake wasn’t thrilled about having a Section 31
operative onboard, or about them being appointed without his say-so,
but he knew well enough how these things worked and understood that
he just needed to accept it.
The door buzzed.
Drake looked up and stared dumbly at it for a few moments before his
mind came back into focus. He glanced at his computer screen and
tapped back to his schedule – it was one of the applicants for the
Chief of Security position, an Orion by the name of Vukarno.
“Enter,” he
called out, remotely unlocking the door while skimming over the
officer’s application and service record to refresh his memory. A
very solid Academy record, particularly in the practical exams, and a
spotless disciplinary record during his career. He looked up as the
officer marched into his office and struggled to hide his surprise.
Lt Vukarno was not what he was expecting.
“Lieutenant
Vukarno reporting as instructed, sir!” announced the Orion as he
approached Drake’s desk and fired off a textbook salute. He was
young – the youngest Drake had interviewed for the position so far,
and maybe a decade younger than Drake himself – and possessed the
typically chiselled jaw, aquiline nose, and imposing physique of an
Orion male. While Drake was generally considered fairly tall and
well-built himself, Vukarno out-did him on both counts. However,
what really caught his eye was the Orion’s hair – while
the majority of his head was clean-shaven like most Orion men, there
was a two-inch-thick band of long, jet-black hair running down the
middle and tied into a ponytail at the back. And then there was the
beard – he’d never seen an Orion with anything more than evening
stubble on their face, but Vukarno had a tidily-trimmed pointed
goatee and handlebar moustache combo that was every bit as perfectly
presented as his uniform, which itself looked like it had been
cleaned and pressed just minutes ago, and then only put on right
before the Orion walked into Drake’s office.
“At ease,
Lieutenant,” replied Drake as he returned the salute, his eyes
still taking in the Orion’s unexpected appearance. “And, please,
take a seat.” Vukarno gave a curt nod before folding himself into
one of the chairs opposite Drake. He looks like he could be on a
recruitment advert, Drake found himself thinking. “I see you
are currently stationed here on Earth Spacedock.” The Orion nodded
briefly, still sitting to attention. Drake idly wondered if he even
slept to attention. “Why have you applied for a transfer to the
Wakefield?”
“Sir, I want
to see the galaxy, sir,” replied the Orion, stiffly.
“Understandable,”
said Drake, “but why the Wakefield in particular? There are
lots of security postings available on exploration vessels that will
see far more of the galaxy than we will on our mission.
“Sir, the USS
Wakefield was recommended to me by Adm. Syva, sir.”
“You realise
you don’t need to start and end every sentence with ‘sir’,
Lieutenant? This is Starfleet, not MACO. We’re a bit more
relaxed.” He smiled kindly at the Orion, who looked at him
uncertainly.
“My apologies,
sir. I wanted to make the best possible impression. It would seem I
got a little carried away.” It was odd seeing such a large man
looking sheepish.
“Quite
alright, Lieutenant. Interviews can be nerve-wracking affairs but,
please, just be yourself. I want to see if you’re the right person
to run my security department, not just the right person to take to
official events.” The Orion nodded, and his posture relaxed
somewhat, though he still sat stiffly. “Now, if Syva – that is,
Adm. Syva – recommended you, I can only assume that he had your
compatibility for the mission in mind as well as your capabilities as
a security officer. Would I be correct in thinking that?”
“Si-,” he
stopped and cleared his throat. “Yes, sir. I had originally put
in an open transfer request for any ships in need of a senior
security officer and was contacted by Adm. Syva several weeks ago
after he saw this. The Admiral explained the broad overview of the
Wakefield’s upcoming mission’s parameters, and that he
felt I – as an Orion male – would be well suited to the mission.
He also noted that my ‘adoption of Federation and Starfleet ideals
and culture’ also served to illustrate a key point of the mission,
that is, the breaking down of old stereotypes.”
“Does that not
make you feel that you have been recommended perhaps as a PR move
rather than on your own merits?”
“Perhaps,
sir,” replied Vukarno, smiling just a little. “But I am
still an Orion, sir, and we are nothing if not pragmatic. A
promotion is a promotion, and regardless of the motive behind my
recommendation, it still provides me with the same opportunities to
further my career, see the galaxy, and partake in experiences that
simply would not be available here on the Spacedock, sir.” Drake
thought for a moment, his steepled fingers resting idly against his
lips.
“A very good
answer, and an attitude I can commend, Lieutenant.” The Orion
nodded slightly at the praise. “However, while I can agree with the
Admiral’s appraisal of your suitability for the mission, I am
concerned as to whether your level of experience and seniority makes
you suitable as a department head and staff officer. What would you
say in regard to that?”
“Sir, I would
say that I am currently in charge of a shift of one hundred and
twenty-seven personnel, which is three times the size of the
Wakefield’s entire security department. I am confident not
only that I could run the Wakefield’s security department,
but that I could excel in doing so.”
“I like your
confidence, and while your posting here speaks well of your
administrative abilities there is a significant difference between
leading the evening shift on Earth Spacedock and running the whole
department for a starship, even if there are less personnel. Our
mission might be one of diplomacy and scientific research but, with
the areas we will be travelling in, it is almost certain that we will
see active combat. As Head of Security, the officers under you would
be looking to you for leadership, not just staff management. You
will likely come under enemy fire more than once, and it is entirely
possible that people under your command will die. These are
difficult things to face.”
“I have scored
within the top five percent of all of the combat simulations I have
taken part in, sir, and have regularly undertaken additional
simulations beyond those expected of my position. While I appreciate
that simulated combat lacks the visceral reality of, well, real
combat, I can but offer my assurances that as an Orion I am not
easily intimidated or scared, and that as a Starfleet officer I see
keeping my crew safe as my number one priority in any combat
scenario, sir.”
“I see,”
commented Drake, nodding to himself before changing the subject. “On
the subject of simulations, let’s talk about the combat holoprogram
we ran you through before the interview.” The Orion sat up a
little straighter. “You were in command of a four-man away team
who had come under attack and had been pinned down, with
reinforcements unavailable...,”
--- Lt Vukarno and his team had taken a shuttle down to the
Ferengi mining colony - the rare metal deposits that had made the
valley such an attractive proposition for mining created too much
signal interference for transporters to be an option. While PO
Janssen from Security stood watch at the shuttle, Vukarno and the
other two officers on the mission were in the colony’s primary
warehouse, helping the inventory clerk check the medical supplies as
they were unloaded.
It was a straightforward supply run, and Vukarno’s team were
nearly done when two pirate ships had decloaked in a low orbit. The
USS Darlington, Vukarno’s ship, had immediately moved to
engage the two vessels, but not before the pirates had managed to get
several raiding shuttles away.
The initial attack had seen a dozen colonists injured or killed,
with the rest scrambling for the mine entrance and the safety of its
half-metre thick metal doors. Janssen had gone with them, providing
covering fire and doing what she could to herd the colonists and make
sure everyone got to safety. Janssen had acted with valour and
bravery, but sustained a gut shot in the process. With the colonists
safe, she had dragged herself the last few yards, helping hands
reaching out to pull her in over the threshold before the great door
slammed shut. ---
“Trapped, outnumbered, and separated from an injured officer who
needed prompt medical attention. A dire situation to say the least,
and one that requires a cool head and quick, decisive action to get
out of. Talk me through your thoughts, Lieutenant.”
“I had two options, sir,” explained Vukarno, “On the one hand
the surviving colonists were safe and secure either in the mine
entrance or in the warehouse with myself and two of my officers –
Dituri and Vehar.” Drake nodded, moderately impressed that the
Orion had remembered the names of the hologram officers in the
simulation – while a minor feat, it showed that he had taken the
sim seriously.
“With the shuttle – our only way off the planet – lying roughly
halfway between the warehouse and the mine entrance, I was obviously
faced with a choice,” Vukarno continued. “I rated the odds of
myself, Dituri, and Vehar successfully making to the shuttle as very
high – a simple bounding overwatch, using the abandoned supply
crates and traffic walls as cover. But that would almost certainly
condemn Janssen to death; she was safe from the pirates, but from her
description of her wound exsanguination would happen in considerably
less time than it would take for the pirates to fill their boots and
leave.”
--- “Lieutenant?” Vukarno’s combadge chirped to life,
though the voice that came through sounded crackled.
“Janssen?” he replied. “What’s your status? The clerk
here slammed the warehouse’s reinforced shutters as soon as trouble
started and is refusing to open them until it stops.”
“I…ine entrance, sir,” replied the security officer, the
connection unstable.
“You’re in the mine entrance?” Vukarno deduced.
“…irmative, Lieu…enant. Colo… … … ounded.”
“I can barely hear you, Janssen, there’s too much
interference.”
“… on.” There was a long pause, and Vukarno was about to
call the petty officer’s name again when her voice returned. “Can
you hear me now, sir?”
“Much clearer, Miss Janssen. What’s going on?”
“Pirate attack, sir,” she explained. “I’ve got the
colonists to the mine entrance and we’re safe behind the doors, but
we lost some on the run to safety. Not sure if they’re wounded or
dead; didn’t really get the chance to properly take stock. Sorry,
sir.”
“They’re probably dead,” interjected the colony’s
inventory clerk, in a very matter-of-fact tone. “Dead or dying.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Janssen,” Vukarno said, trying to
ignore the clerk. “You got as many people to safety as you could
and saved a lot of lives.” He paused, considering their options.
“We’re going to need to make a coordinated run to the shuttle.”
“Ah, that’s a negative, sir. I’m not going to be running
anywhere – took a gut shot before I could get my shields online.
Bleeding pretty badly. Done what I can with my personal medikit but
I’m not sure I can even stand back up without help.” ---
“While we could make a run to the shuttle with reasonable odds of
incurring minimal injuries, getting from there to the mine and then
back to the shuttle again, with an injured officer who would need
assistance to move, thus slowing the whole group down, would put all
four of us at a high risk of severe injury or death. Leaving Janssen
behind was the sensible choice.”
--- “Sit tight, Janssen, we’re going to work out a plan.”
“Not going anywhere, sir,” replied the security officer,
forcing herself to sound as chirpy as she could.
“Dituri, we’re going to need a distraction,” Vukarno said,
turning to face the away team’s operations officer.
“Sir?”
“Janssen can’t move and she’s not going to make it without
proper medical attention and fast. We need to get to the mine, get
her, and then get to the shuttle. The colonists are fine – they
can open the doors a crack to let us in and out and slam them shut as
soon as we’re clear. But we’re going to be awfully exposed once
we get Janssen.”
“I can rig the output of our shields, sir,” suggested Vehar.
“They won’t last long before burning out, but it will give us a
chance in the open.”
Vukarno nodded, “Good. Vehar?”
“We could…,” he looked around, searching for inspiration,
“we could rig up one of the auto-trucks to act as a makeshift
gurney for Janssen. It won’t help us move any faster because those
things don’t go much more than a brisk walking pace, but it frees
our hands up to lay down covering fire.”
“We could weld some of that sheet-steel to the sides, give
Janssen more cover,” added Vukarno. For a moment, the warehouse
clerk looked like they were about to object to the use and
jury-rigging of their equipment, but wisely decided to keep quiet.
“With Janssen covered, one of us can use her shield to boost our
own, right Vehar?” The operations officer thought for a moment,
then nodded.
“That should work, sir. It won’t take me five seconds to
tandem the two shields.” ---
“But not the right choice. We set to work, and within a few
minutes we had a crude but serviceable armoured gurney for Janssen.
Getting it over to the mine would be tricky and require some
coordination as we bounded, but it was doable if we left it switched
off and just rolled it between us. We ran our shields at normal
levels on the way to the mine and used the auto-truck as limited
cover. The miners had the door area cleared for our approach, and
had it open just enough for us to squeeze through. That was the easy
part. Making it the two hundred metres back to the shuttle at
walking speed was going to be hard. With the auto truck rolling, we
wouldn’t be able to bound effectively and would need to focus more
on covering that and keeping Janssen safe, rather than ourselves.
--- “Comfortable, Miss Janssen?” Vukarno asked.
“Like a day at the spa,” replied Janssen, smiling weakly. Her
face was pale and had a sheen of sweat on it. They knew they didn’t
have time to waste.
“Okay. Team, this is where it gets dicey. Vehar, take
Janssen’s shield, and mine, and tandem them with yours and
Dituri’s.”
“Sir?”
“I would advise agai-,”
“That was an order, not an invitation to discussion. I’m
Orion, I can take a lot more grief from a phaser than any of you can,
and I’m also the commanding officer here. Doubling your shields
and amping them up to max output should give the three of you enough
time to get to the shuttle. Stay as close as you can to the auto
truck so you’re covering any gaps in the plates.”
“What about you, sir? I counted a dozen pirates out there, just
waiting for us to pop out again, and that’s assuming more haven’t
come away from the looting to join the fun. Orion or not, you won’t
make it a hundred meters unshielded, nevermind two hundred.”
“Your assessment is noted, Dituri. I’m relying on the pirates
not having much trigger discipline, and also on the disorienting
effects of having half a dozen photon grenades thrown their way.”
“While we lay as much suppressing fire as we can,” added
Dituri, coming around to the tactic.”
“Short bursts, low power.” Dituri nodded at the suggestion.
“We don’t need to kill; we just need to confuse and disorient.
Now, I need everyone’s grenades and Janssen’s phaser.” ---
“It was a risky plan, Lieutenant,” Drake stated. The Orion
simply nodded in acknowledgement. “Charge out guns blazing, and
with a screaming Orion flinging grenades and running straight at
the enemy.”
“It took their focus off the slower-moving truck, and it is
statistically proven that rapidly closing the distance on an armed
assailant will throw off their aim, sir. A disciplined soldier will
focus and aim centre-of-mass, but an undisciplined one will panic and
just spray. I wagered the pirates would not be disciplined, sir.”
“You took seven hits, five of them glancing and the two direct hits
dealing survivable damage, thanks to your body armour and your
natural resistance to phase-disruption. Once your crew were aboard
the shuttle, they were able to use it to further scatter the pirates
and pick you up – with everyone aboard the shuttle, the simulation
was a success.”
“Yes, sir.” Vukarno managed to bite back the urge to smile in
self-congratulation.
“Frankly, Lieutenant, that’s the sort of borderline-deranged
tactical thinking that the Academy tries to drill out of cadets.”
He paused, watching the Orion’s face; the man was impressively
inscrutable in that moment. “It’s also the sort of
borderline-deranged tactical thinking that made legends out of
Admirals Kirk and Janeway, and just the kind of outside-the-box frame
of mind that I want in my staff officers.” He stood formally and
extended his hand towards Vukarno. After a moment’s processing,
the Orion stood as well and firmly shook the offered hand. “Welcome
aboard, Lieutenant Vukarno.”
“Thank you, Captain Drake!” replied the Orion, not so inscrutable
now as he grinned from ear to ear.
***
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