USS Wakefield, S01E01 Act II - Changing of the Guard (Part 1)

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.

***