The intercom buzzed to attract
Captain Koester’s attention.
“Captain, there’s an incoming
transmission for you from Starfleet Command,” said the voice of 1stLt
April Mendez.
“Pipe it in here, Lieutenant,” the
captain ordered. Seconds later the
viewer rose out of the desktop and blinked the image of the Starfleet emblem
before changing into the transmission of a woman in a Starfleet admiral’s
uniform.
“Kate! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Koester
asked, delighted.
Admiral Katheryn Janeway smiled on
the viewer. “Nice to see you again,
Peter,” the admiral said to her former pupil.
“I know we need to get an opportunity to chat more often, but I’m afraid
today it’s business. We have a new
assignment for you.”
“Nothing too difficult I hope,”
Koester joked.
“Well that all depends,” Janeway
answered with a smirk. “How are you with
kids?”
* * * *
Commander (Carrie) K’danz set the
controls on the phaser range to a higher level, then pulled the hand phaser
from the holster on her waist. As the
multicolored target circles started appearing and flashing across her line of
sight, she expertly hit each one without hesitation. After more than eight years as a security
officer, five of them as the Chief of Security, she had become understandably
skillful with a phaser, and though she was now an executive officer, she had no
intention of letting those skills fade.
After all, you never knew when you might run into some large hungry
reptile somewhere.
She had just completed the skill
level and raised the level yet again when the intercom beeped.
“All hands, this is the Captain,”
said the voice of the ship’s commanding officer. “All senior staff members muster in the
briefing lounge in ten minutes.”
“Damn,” K’danz muttered before
replacing the phaser into her holster and turning off the range program. From there she quickly jogged back to the
quarters she shared with her husband, the half-Klingon Chief Engineer Dar,
changed into a fresh uniform shirt and jacket, then caught a turbolift up to
the bridge.
Moments later K’danz entered the
briefing lounge located behind the main bridge, where the senior staff of the
starship Dauntless was gathering.
Already seated at the large polished table were Lt Commander Kevin Fry,
the Chief Conn Officer, Lt Commander Phillip Winters, the Chief of Ops, Tanzia
Gera, the joined-Trill Ship’s Counselor and Dr Rasa Palin, the Bajoran Chief
Medical Officer. Standing nearby or
retrieving drinks from the lounge’s replicator unit were Starfleet Marine Major
Sean Elliot McIntyre and the Deltan Chief Science Officer Lt Jorruss. K’danz retrieved a mug of raktagino for
herself and placed a second mug of the steaming Klingon coffee at the seat next
to her as she took her own place near the head of the table. Moments later her husband Dar appeared in the
doorway and took his seat to his wife’s right, followed by the starship’s
Command Master Chief, or Chief of the Boat, Chief Piotr Zubatka.
“Any idea what this is all about?”
Dar asked his wife as he sipped from the mug she had passed to him. The raktagino filled the room with the smell
of rich cinnamon-like Klingon spice.
“I’m as much in the dark as you
are,” K’danz answered.
A second later the lounge door
swished open one last time as Captain Peter J. Koester, commanding officer of
the Sovereign-class starship USS Dauntless stepped in. He took his traditional
seat at the head of the briefing table and said, “Once again our starship has
been assigned to follow in the footsteps of one of Starfleet’s most famous
vessels, the USS Enterprise NCC-1701.”
An excited murmur filled the lounge.
“What’s our assignment, Skipper?”
Kevin Fry asked. “Exploring beyond the
galactic barrier?”
“Fightink a huge planet keeller?”
suggested the Russian-born Zubatka.
“Slingshotting to the past to study
history as it happened?” remarked Jorruss.
Koester smiled at his crew before
answering.
“I’m afraid nothing quite so
exciting,” he said. “We’ve been assigned
to be the Academy training vessel,” remarked Koester with a half-smirk.
Space, the Final Frontier…
These are the voyages of the starship Dauntless!
Her ongoing mission:
To Seek; To Chart; To Explore.
Slipping the surly bonds of Earth,
Going where none have been before!
“Training
Captain’s log, stardate 58098.6:
The USS Dauntless has been
reassigned to Academy training duty. I
am now in the process of breaking the news to my crew.
Koester, commanding Dauntless,
out.
“It’s a tradition that goes back
over a hundred years,” Captain Koester explained to the senior staff gathered
in the briefing lounge. “Each year at
the start of the new spring semester, Starfleet Command pulls one vessel from
active duty to serve as the Academy training vessel for a semester. Once we’re back at Earth we’ll take on about
one-hundred members of the third-year midshipmen class and train them in the
duties of operating a starship while we continue to conduct missions of
exploration.”
“I remember my academy cruise,” said
Fry. “I spent most of the time scrubbing
decks. Not to mention I learned most of
what I know about photon torpedo tubes from the inside. That was back on the old USS Republic.”
“How long will we have them aboard?”
K’danz asked, annoyed at the fact she was being forced into baby-sitting duty.
“At least six months,” Koester
answered. “I’m sure most of you remember
your Academy cruise. Well this cadet
cruise is going to be different than most.
No sticking the midshipmen out of sight with menial everyday tasks. They’re coming here to learn and we’re going
to teach them.”
The captain stood up and grabbed a
cup of hot tea out of the replicator, then circled the table as he continued to
outline his plan.
“Carrie, I’m placing you in charge
of the midshipmen’s orientation. COB,
you’ll assist the commander. You will
give them one week to get up to speed on how things operate aboard the Dauntless. Then we will distribute them into the
departments based on their majors.
Command cadets in the command department, engineering cadets in
engineering, etcetera. Once the cadets
are assigned into the watch shifts, the
normal watchstanders will assume the roles of teachers and mentors. The cadets will stand the watches. Drive the ship, maintain the engines, conduct
the surveys. They’ll leave here
full-fledged Starfleet officers fully capable of operating a complex starship
in all but title. Does everyone
understand?”
Heads around the table nodded almost
in unison as murmurs of assent were heard.
Finally the captain returned to his seat and pressed the intercom button
built into the tabletop.
“Bridge, this is the captain. Plot a course for sector 001. Ahead warp six.”
“Aye, sir,” replied Ensign Ch’Roth.
* * * *
Midshipman 2nd-class
Joella Faggio grabbed the food tray off the serving line and made her way
towards the cafeteria tables. It was
still a couple of days before classes would resume after the winter break, but
many of the cadets had already returned from their brief vacations and almost
all of the tables were filled with excitedly chatting students.
The young Betazoid woman began to
think she was going to have to eat her lunch standing up, which considering the
meal was an Earth staple called spaghetti and meat balls would have been near impossible,
when she noticed a fellow third-year cadet sitting alone at a small table near
the wall. Faggio recognized the female
Bolian from a couple of classes the two shared, and decided sitting with the
quiet science major would be better than no seat at all.
“Hi.
Anyone sitting here?”
The young Bolian woman looked up at
Faggio briefly, quietly shaking her head no, then returned her attention to the
meal and padd she had spread out on the table.
Faggio placed her tray down next to the bowl of purple salad the Bolian
was occasionally grabbing forkfuls of.
“I know we’ve been in a few classes
together, but we’ve never formally met,” the Betazoid cadet said, trying to
start a conversation. The only thing
Faggio hated worse than eating alone was eating with someone who refused to
chat over a meal. “I’m Cadet Joella
Faggio of Betazed. Engineering school.”
The Bolian girl looked up at Faggio
again, her expression seemingly a mixture of trying to decide if she should
introduce herself or run screaming from the table before she finally responded.
“Midshipman 2nd-class
Mortati of Bolias IV. Sciences.”
Faggio twirled a forkful of
spaghetti onto her utensil and took a bite, then said, “Are you all packed for
the cruise?”
Mortati nodded, then turned her padd
off and turned her full attention on her salad.
Faggio wondered if maybe she would have been better off eating standing
up somewhere.
“Hey, watch it!”
The sound of a dropped tray and a
commotion in the chow line drew both cadet’s attention. Halfway through the food line a small group
had gathered around two other cadets, one of whom could barely be seen above
the shoulders of the gathering crowd.
“I apologize,” said the cadet who
stood less than a meter and a half tall.
“I was trying to reach the utensiles.”
“You stepped on my foot, you gnome!”
said the taller cadet, his face turning red with rage. “Do you know what I do with shrimp like you?”
“Accept my apology and leave it at
that if you’re smart,” said the shorter cadet with menace. “There was no need for you to drop your
tray.” The crowd that had gathered
already began to spread apart, out of arms reach.
“I’ll accept your face plastered all
over the deck,” the taller cadet said and swung his fist. Effortlessly, the shorter cadet caught the
fist in the palm of his hand, stopping the swing dead. The taller cadet looked amazed for a moment
until his expression changed to one of pain.
With minor effort the shorter cadet was squeezing the taller cadet’s
fist, eventually bringing the taller human boy literally to his knees.
“Like I said, I apologize,” the
shorter cadet remarked.
Through gritted teeth, the taller
cadet managed to say, “Apology… accepted…”
As easily as it had begun, the shorter
cadet released the other boy’s hand, grabbed his food tray, and moved on down
the line. The second cadet shot a dirty
look at the back of the departing student before starting to gather his dropped
tray and take it to the disposal slot.
“Tamurillians have amazing
strength,” Mortati commented, the first full sentence she had said since Faggio
had joined her. “An evolutionary side
effect of living on a high-gravity planet I surmise.”
“I hope I don’t get assigned to the
same training vessel as them. Things are
likely to get ugly in an enclosed space,” Cadet Faggio commented, having
recognized the two cadets involved in the altercation as fellow third-years, to
which Mortati nodded in agreement.
“Unfortunately we won’t have much
choice.”
Faggio looked up at another human
cadet who had been standing nearby watching the confrontation and had made the
comment. She recognized him as
Midshipman 2nd-class William Hyland III, one of the class
leaders. He looked down at the Betazoid
with a half-smile and added, “Our class counselor told me Starfleet has
assigned a single starship as the training vessel this year instead of multiple
small scouts or science vessels. Our
whole class will all be serving aboard the same ship.”
“Wonderful,” Faggio commented as she
glanced once again toward the chow line.
* * * *
“Entering Earth orbit, Skipper,”
Kevin Fry reported as he maneuvered the Dauntless into a stable position
high over
“Very well, Mister Fry. Major McIntyre, hail Starfleet.”
A moment later, the viewscreen
blinked on the emblem of the United Federation of Planets before switching to
the image of Admiral Janeway.
“USS Dauntless, reporting as
ordered, Admiral.”
“Welcome home, Peter. Everything is arranged with the Academy. There will be a formal reception for you and
your command staff in the Academy administration building tonight at 1900. Don’t be late.”
“We’ll be there with bells on,
Admiral,” Koester replied with a smile.
“I do have a couple of questions however. When are we scheduled to depart on the
training cruise, and do I have time to meet with you for lunch before then?”
“Cadet orientation on-campus will
start tomorrow and last three days,” Janeway answered. “You depart on your next mission the
following morning. As for lunch, I would
normally have to check my schedule, but for you… I’ll just pencil you in. You’re buying.”
Koester smiled, then responded,
“Understood, Admiral. Dauntless,
out.”
* *
* *
At 1845 hours that evening, the hum
of a transporter filled the hallway of the Academy admin building, and ten
people materialized, all in full dress uniforms. They crossed the hallway to the banquet room
doors and entered. On the other side of
the door, a cadet in his Academy dress uniform stood at attention near an
old-fashioned brass ship’s bell. As
Koester entered the room, the cadet gave the bell four quick taps and
announced, “Dauntless, arriving.”
Inside the banquet hall were
gathered the many commanders and captains, professors and instructors who
taught classes at the Academy. Right
away Koester recognized Chief Miles O’Brien, who taught one of the basic
engineering courses, and waved to him before approaching and offering a polite
greeting to the Academy superintendent, Admiral Heyer.
Following introductions, the Dauntless
command staff started mingling with the crowd, which Koester noticed also
included a small number of third-year cadets representing the class that would
join the Dauntless crew in the days to come. Commander K’danz and her husband Dar joined
the Commandant and their captain, presenting each with a flute of champagne.
“I’m very proud of this year’s
cadets,” Admiral Heyer said. “I believe
you will find they are a bright and enthusiastic group, cadets who will
hopefully be a real asset to your crew, Captain.” The admiral gestured at a nearby cadet, who
joined the four senior officers.
“Captain, Commander, Lieutenant, may I present the third-year class
leader, Midshipman 2nd-class William Hyland.”
The cadet shook the hands of the
three Dauntless officers as Koester asked, “Any relation to Rear-Admiral
Bill Hyland?”
“My father, sir,” Cadet Hyland
replied.
“Also the grandson of Commodore
William Hyland of the USS Ajax,” Admiral Heyer added.
“The same USS Ajax lost at
T’Lani III?” Koester asked with awe.
“You’re a living piece of Starfleet
heritage, Cadet,” K’danz said, sounding
impressed.
“Believe me, Commander, I wish I
weren’t. You have no idea the pressure I
live under,” Hyland said.
“I can understand,” Koester
commiserated. “My father was an admiral,
and boy did he have plans for me. He
acted as if I attacked him personally when I was assigned starbase duty early
in my career instead of remaining aboard starships.”
“What is your major, Cadet?” Lt Dar
asked between sips of the champagne from his delicate glass.
“I’m command track, sir,” Hyland
answered. “Looking forward to spending
time aboard your ship and then hitting that Kobayashi Maru exam next
year.” Koester chuckled under his breath
at the comment.
“Well, we’ll be happy to have you
and your class aboard. We’re looking
forward to helping mold the next generation of Starfleet officers,” K’danz
said. “Maybe even molding some Starfleet
royalty.”
Cadet Hyland blushed at the comment,
then excused himself from the small group to mingle some more.
“I was never that young,” Koester
commented as he watched Hyland walk away.
K’danz looked at her captain with a funny expression.
“Nope… you weren’t,” she readily
agreed.
* * * *
The days that followed consisted of
student orientations, to make sure the cadets understood what was to be
expected of them in the months to come as well as to make sure they were
prepared with the proper uniforms, clothes, equipment and personal items
necessary for the six-month training assignment.
Meanwhile, the Dauntless’ command staff and senior crewmembers were introduced to
the third-year class. Commander K’danz
explained their first few days aboard the Sovereign-class starship would
consist of more orientation sessions, to make sure the cadets would understand
the vessel’s layout and organization.
And finally, before the Dauntless
departed on its first training mission, Captain Koester managed to meet his
former mentor Kathryn Janeway for lunch in San Francisco, an entirely social
occasion for once, an occasion that had been put off for over two years.
* * * *
The transporter completed its
rematerialization routine, leaving six more cadets standing on the
platform. The transporter chief placed
the system in standby, then addressed the cadets.
“Welcome aboard the Dauntless. If you will please follow Crewman Roy, he
will escort you to cargo bay two, where you will be assigned quarters and given
your orientation schedule.” He gestured
toward the crewman who stood near the doors to the corridor.
“Follow me, please,”
The six cadets grabbed their duffle
bags and almost as one flung them over their shoulders. Near the back of the group was the stocky
young Tamurillian, who hefted his heavy bag with ease.
The crewman lead the six cadets down
to cargo bay two. As the heavy doors slid
open the cadets were instructed to sit down in one of the many seats that had
been set up in the bay and wait for their name to be called. Already about half the seats had been filled. Eventually a stocky man with a dark, bushy
mustache dressed in a chief’s uniform started calling out names from a padd.
“Albertson, C’Hars, Horendi, Sotek.”
The four male cadets stood, grabbed
their duffles, and reported to the chief.
He handed them small pads and said, “You are assigned to qvarters
06-101. Your orientation schedule is on
dee padd.” As the first four cadets
departed, Chief Zubatka called off the next four names.
“Der Boghossian, Fedundi, Saldana,
Yananda.”
The stocky Tamurillian, upon hearing
his name at the lead of the second group, stood and reported to the Command
Master Chief.
“Der Boghossian,” he told Zubatka,
who handed him a padd before passing on three other padds to the other cadets
he had called.
“Qvarters 06-110,” Zubatka said.
Cadet Der Boghossian was about to
start heading toward the assigned cabin he would share with three other
midshipmen when he heard a vaguely familiar voice say, “Uh… Chief, is there any
way I can change rooms?” Der Boghossian
glanced over his muscular shoulder and recognized the same cadet who had tried
starting a fight with him in the lunch line a week earlier.
“Dere’s alvays a chance, Cadet,”
Chief Zubatka said with a smile. “Just
make an appointment vith Commander K’danz and you can deescuss it vith her.”
Cadet Saldana glanced at his padd
for a moment, his eyebrows knit in confusion, before saying, “I thought
Commander K’danz was the XO?”
“She ees,” Zubatka confirmed. “So she might be a leetle busy, vich is vhy I
suggested you make an appointment.”
Saldana glanced over at Der
Boghossian, noticed the short, muscular cadet looking at him, and turned back
to the chief.
“How long does it take to get an
appointment? And do you really think
she’ll actually change my room assignment if I make the request?”
The chief looked Cadet Saldana in
the eyes and said with a straight face, “If you’re lucky, she’ll have a free
appointment sometime before your training cruise ends. And do I tink she’ll change your room? Probably not.”
Der Boghossian chuckled to himself until
Saldana pulled his duffle onto his shoulder and rudely pushed past the
Tamurillian cadet.
“Just stay out of my way, gnome,”
Saldana whispered under his breath as he joined the other two cadets near the
cargo bay door and all four made their way to their quarters.
* * * *
“Helm, break orbit,” Koester
ordered.
The helmsman acknowledged the order
and swiftly the Dauntless departed
Earth, heading toward their new assignment, their first with the cadet class
aboard. As the ship moved out through
the solar system, the doors to the turbolift opened and Chief Zubatka emerged,
followed by a few of the cadets.
“Did you see that little girl in the
make-believe Starfleet uniform who thinks she’s a Klingon?” Midshipman Saldana
said with a smug smile on his face. “Who
does she think she is?”
“She thinks she’s a third-class
Fleet Space Cadet and the Senior Unit Cadet aboard the Dauntless,” Captain Koester said, turning his chair to look at the
new arrivals. “…And my daughter. And at the age of 12 she already has spent
more time in space than you I’ll wager.”
Cadet Saldana swallowed hard and
turned as red as the shoulder panels of his Academy cadet uniform as Chief
Zubatka directed them out onto the bridge.
“
“Welcome to the bridge, Mister
Hyland,” the Captain said in a much friendlier tone than he had used on Saldana
before standing up and offering the class leader a friendly handshake. “You’ll be working under Lieutenant Peck,
manning our helm.”
The Bolian man at the conn station
turned around and offered a friendly wave before gesturing Hyland up to the
console to introduce him to the controls of the helm. Meanwhile Chief Zubatka moved closer with the
cadet who had made the smart-aleck remark in the turbolift.
“Kipten, this is Midshipman Omar
Saldana. He vill be standing vatch at
ops.” As Koester offered the cadet his
hand to shake in a much less friendly manner than he had shown to Hyland, the
COB leaned closer to the captain’s ear and added, “Dee XO’s special
project.” Koester nodded in
understanding.
As Saldana took his place standing
next to the ops seat occupied by Phillip Winters, Peck let Hyland take the
chair at the conn and turned to look at the captain.
“We’re clear of Terran traffic
control,” the Bolian officer reported.
“Orders?”
“Mister Hyland, set course 020 mark
5, warp factor six.”
With Peck’s assistance, Midshipman
Hyland entered the new course into the navigation computer, then looked over
his shoulder at the captain.
“Course plotted and laid in, sir,”
Hyland reported with a wide smile.
With a nod and a touch of excitement
at getting back underway, Koester flicked his hand forward and ordered,
“Engage!”
The End
Return to 2381.
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