The dimpled ball
rolled across the green, pausing on the edge of the hole before momentum
carried it over and into the cup. A
cheer went up among the small group gathered around the course.
“Great shot, Gem! That makes your score three for this hole,” Annika Omnia Arbelo-Eeta remarked as she entered the score on the card with a
pencil.
“You know, when I
said I would teach you all how to play the game on the holodeck,
mini-golf wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” commented Chief Pono Kyman as he tried to set up
his own putt on the green.
“But this is more
fun than regular old golf,” replied Gem Koester, daughter of the starship Dauntless’ commanding officer and lead
cadet of the Starfleet Space Cadet Corps unit aboard the ship, as she kneeled
beside the fairway and stroked the poofy white fur of
her ‘dog’ Nanook, who watched the brightly-colored
mini-golf balls with curiosity and looked like he would chase after the next
one to pass by if given half a chance.
“Golf isn’t
supposed to be fun,” Kyman remarked as he putted his
ball into the cup. “I believe that’s
birdie!”
“Nice shot, COB,
but still more strokes than me,” Lieutenant (JG) Joella
Faggio complimented as she placed her ball on the tee
of the next hole, a spinning windmill hazard halfway down the fairway
obstructing the cup at the far end.
“I bet you can’t
do this one!” Lieutenant (JG) William Hyland III, Faggio’s
boyfriend and fellow Academy graduate, chuckled.
“I bet I can,” Faggio replied as she studied how fast the windmill blades
were spinning.
“Care to put your
credits where your mouth is?” Hyland asked with a semi-evil grin.
“Commander
Bloom’s got me assigned to shuttlecraft maintenance all next week,” Faggio stated. “If I
make this putt, you do half my maintenance on your off-shift.”
“I would think
carefully about this if I were you, Mister Hyland,” Annika
commented, her eyes darting back and forth between the two young
lieutenants. “Mister Faggio
is really good at performing spacial geometry in her
head. And she…”
“It’s a bet!” Hyland
exclaimed. “You miss the putt and you
take half my helm watches next week!”
“Um… Is Lieutenant Faggio
even qualified on the helm?” Kyman asked.
“Don’t worry,
COB,” Faggio assured with a wink. “Watch this.”
The young Betazoid engineer lined up her putter, then
concentrated on the windmill, watching the blades spin for several seconds. Suddenly, without preamble, Faggio swung her putter.
The dark blue golf ball rolled down the fairway. As it neared the windmill, it appeared the
ball would strike one of the spinning blades, prompting Hyland to smile, before
barely slipping past and through the little door on the mill. Hyland’s smile faded to shock as everyone
could hear the ball clunking around inside the hazard before emerging, faster
than before, from the furthest left of the three exit holes on the back of the
windmill. The blue ball rolled quickly
onto the green and past the hole, producing a cheer from Hyland before the ball
hit the far wall and ricocheted back toward the cup, slowing as it did.
“No! No!
No! No! No!” Hyland shouted as the ball slowly moved
toward the hole, finally pausing right on the edge. Everyone stared as it hovered right over the
hole. “Yes!” Hyland exclaimed, jumping
in the air. Then, as his boots landed
back on the ground, the ball wobbled slightly.
Hyland’s eyes went wide once more.
As everyone watched, Faggio’s ball tumbled
over the edge of the cup and into the hole.
“I’ll see you in
the main shuttlebay at 1700 on Monday, Bill,” Faggio said with a grin as Hyland looked like we was about
to throw his putter on the ground.
“How? How in the
entire galaxy…?”
“Maybe, as I was
about to tell you,” Annika said to Hyland, “because Mister Faggio programmed
this simulation.”
Hyland started
glaring at his girlfriend, who was hiding her guffaws behind her hand, until
the group was interrupted by the intercom.
“Bloom to Faggio.” The Betazoid woman quickly tapped her combadge
to answer.
“Faggio here, Commander.”
“Lieutenant,
Doctor MacMillan has reported the EMH program is
experiencing some glitches,” said the voice of the starship’s emotional Vulcan
chief engineer. “You are the most
familiar with the program of any engineer aboard. Could you swing by sickbay and take a look?”
“Aye, Commander,”
Faggio said, sounding slightly crestfallen. “I’ll get right on it.” She then turned to Hyland and said, “If I’m
going to meet you for that drink in 10-Forward this
evening, I’d better get this out of the way.”
She then addressed Cadet Koester, Arbelo-Eeta,
and Chief Kyman.
“Sorry to run out on you like this, but duty calls.”
“We understand,” Kyman replied. “Next
time we’ll play a real game of golf, and I’ll kick all your butts.”
Faggio laughed at the COB’s
remark as she called out, “Computer, Arch.”
A moment later the holodeck control arch and
door appeared and opened, and Faggio headed out into
the corridor toward sickbay.
Space,
the Final Frontier…
These
are the voyages of the starship Dauntless!
Star Trek:
Dauntless
“Who Q?” By PJK
Based on a character created by DMR
The double door
swished open, admitting Lieutenant (JG) Joella Faggio, carrying several diagnostic tools, into
sickbay. On one of the biobeds at the side of the room, the Chief Medical Officer,
Doctor Gregory MacMillan, was giving a routine exam
to young Wyatt Cerilli, the former Borg drone better
known as Five of Twelve.
“‘Tis what I thought, Mister Cerilli,”
MacMillan was saying in his thick Scottish brogue.
“Five! Please call me Five, Doctor,” the teenaged
former Borg insisted.
“Th’ symptoms you’re experiencin’
are bein’ caused by your human lymphatic system re-assertin’ itself.
Your body is growin’ less ‘n less dependant on
your Borg implants each day.”
Cerilli reacted as if he did not consider the CMO’s explanation to be good news.
“You mean
eventually I’ll be completely human again?” he asked.
“Mostly human. There
are certain implants, like your cortical node and interplexing
beacon, tha’ canna be
removed and tha’ your body depends on. You’ll always be a little bit Borg.”
Cerilli smiled as if given the best news he could imagine
before hopping down off the biobed. “Thanks, Doctor,” he said before heading out
of sickbay.
MacMillan proceeded to stow away his medical
equipment. As he placed a tricorder back into its storage drawer, he said
offhandedly, “What c’n I do for ya,
Lieutenant?”
“Commander Bloom
told me you were having a problem with the EMH program?” Faggio
replied as she walked over to where MacMillan stood.
“Aye, the
abomination’s been having some hiccups.
I think there’s still some faults in the
program left over from the late Doctor Rasa’s tamperin’.”
“Computer,” Faggio said toward the ceiling. “Activate the EMH.”
The figure of a
bald-headed man appeared in the center of sickbay, his face blank and
emotionless, as he said, “Please state the nature of the medical emer… Just a common cold, Commander,
nothing… medical emergency.”
The sudden glitch
surprised Faggio as MacMillan
simply nodded his head.
“Aye, its been doin’ that all week. Seems t’ be mixing old diagnosis into th’ start-up sub-routines.”
The CMO’s face took on a distinct look of
disgust. “‘Far as ahm concerned, you can simply wipe th’
whole program out o’ the computer.”
This prompted the EMH to look at both MacMillan
and Faggio with a mixture of shock and anger.
“Now, Doctor,” Faggio scolded the CMO.
“You know better than I that Starfleet Medical regulations require every
starship to carry a functioning, accessible EMH program aboard. And besides, with the personality our doctor
has developed in the fourteen years since he was first activated, a lot of the
crew have grown very fond of him, including Fleet
Captain Koester. And me! That’s why the crew never upgraded to a
Mark-III or IV model. Sure, he can be
grumpy, gruff, and have absolutely no bedside manner at times…”
“Please, Lieutenant,
don’t help,” the EMH remarked with a tone of annoyance.
“…But he’s still
a member of the crew.”
“He’s an
abomination,” MacMillan remarked. “Th’ EMH program is
th’ worst thing Starfleet
Medical could a’ developed. A good
doctor – a REAL doctor – has a heart an’ a soul that live medicine!” MacMillan then
turned toward his enclosed office and said, “Ah! Do what ya must!”
Faggio could not help smiling as she watched the CMO enter
his office and sit down behind the desk with a huff. She then turned her attention on the
holographic being standing beside her.
“Have you run any
self-diagnostics, Doctor?”
The holodoc looked like he was deep in thought for a moment
before looking at Faggio and saying, “My program is
in severe need of defragmentation. Several sub-routines appear to be corrupted,
and there is too much… Test results are in, Commander, and they… much
extraneous data. There are at least a
dozen sub-routines that have not been employed in about a decade.”
Faggio was concerned with the fact that the EMH seemed not
to have even noticed the latest glitch.
She carried the diagnostic scanner she was carrying over to the computer
mainframe access in the sickbay bulkhead and removed the wall panels to plug
the scanner in.
“This may take a
while. I have to review almost every
sub-routine and line of code against your basic program to see if I can
determine where the errors are.” Faggio then looked over her shoulder apologetically and
said, “Sorry, Doc. Computer, deactivate
the EMH.” A second later the holographic
being faded away. She then returned her
attention to the scanner readout.
After several
minutes and countless lines of computer code, her expression turned to
puzzlement.
“What’s this?”
she asked rhetorically. “These
sub-routines aren’t supposed to be part of the program.” Faggio delved
deeper into the code, her puzzlement momentarily turning to annoyance. “Someone altered this program and added these
sub-routines without authorization from Starfleet Medical. It’s a wonder the EMH hasn’t broken down long
before…”
Faggio suddenly noticed something completely unexpected in
the computer code. Her eyes went wide
with shock.
“The Four Dieties!” she exclaimed.
* * * *
Down in main
engineering, Commander Jeffery Bloom, a Vulcan who as an infant had been
adopted and raised by human parents, was supervising the repair of the port
plasma coolant tank alongside the warp core by engineers Lt Commander John
Smith and Lt Commander Amanda Windsor. The
two subordinates had just installed the new tank and Smith was finishing
welding it to the coolant supply system.
“The new tank
should be ready for a pressure test within the hour, Jeff,”
“Good. We’ll pressurize the new tank to 41.4 megapascals of argon once you’re ready,” Bloom replied.
“Commander, may I
speak to you for a moment?” Faggio asked.
“Keep
working. I’ll be right back,” Bloom said
to Windsor and Smith before stepping over near one of the unmanned consoles
along the side of the engineering room with Faggio. “What’s on your mind, Lieutenant? Have you figured out what’s wrong with the
EMH yet?”
“Yes… I think,” Faggio answered uncertainly before her expression
changed. “Can I ask you what may be a
personal question, sir?”
“Sure.”
“Do you know who
a Commander Q is?”
Bloom’s
expression quickly turned to one of surprise, a strange emotion to be displayed
on a Vulcan’s face.
“Wow! That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long
time,” Bloom admitted. “She was a member
of the crew almost since the day the Intrepid-class Dauntless was launched until she was killed near the very end of
the Dominion War, about ten years ago.”
“Uh… She was a member of the crew?” Faggio asked, as if needing clarification.
“Yeah. Science officer in charge of stellar cartography aboard the Dauntless-74658. Became the Chief Medical
Officer when this Dauntless was
launched in ’75.”
“She… was a crew
member…,” Faggio repeated, as if still having trouble
getting her head around the fact.
“Yeah. She and the
Captain had some sort of relationship going on.
They tried to keep it low-key, but the whole crew knew what was going
on,” Bloom explained.
“The Captain?” Faggio asked,
shocked. “Captain Koester?”
“Yes. But remember, it was more than a decade
ago. Before he met his
current wife.” Bloom seemed
introspective for a moment before adding, “He took it pretty hard when she was
killed. At least at
first. But how is it you know
about her? And what does she have to do
with the EMH?”
“It came up in
some old medical files that were gumming up the EMH program,” Faggio replied, her attention seemingly elsewhere for a
moment. When she finally snapped back to
the here and now, she said, “Please excuse me, Commander.”
“Of course.”
As Bloom returned to supervising the coolant tank repairs, Faggio left engineering and headed toward the starship’s
bridge.
* * * *
Fleet Captain
Peter J. Koester, commanding officer of the Federation Fifth Fleet flagship,
was just completing a log entry when the door chime sounded. “Come,” he called out. The ready room doors swished open to admit
Lieutenant Faggio, who was carrying a large padd device. “What
can I do for you, Lieutenant?” Koester asked as he offered the junior officer a
seat across the desk from his own.
“Commander Bloom
assigned me to correct some programming errors that have been affecting the EMH’s performance lately,” Faggio
explained. “I found several unauthorized
sub-routines in the program that were the cause of the error.”
“Why are you
bringing this directly to my attention instead of Doctor MacMillan
or Commander Bloom?” Koester asked.
“Because I
believe what I found will concern you, Captain.” Faggio noted the
surprise in Koester’s expression before she continued. “You once had a member of the crew named Q?”
Koester
consciously tried to hold back any visible reaction, but he felt a twinge of
shock rush down his spine as he simply nodded.
“Based on what I
found in the EMH program,” Faggio continued, “I have
reason to believe your Commander Q
was actually one of the entities from the Q
Continuum.”
Koester relaxed
slightly as he began to realize Faggio seemed as yet
unaware of the secret he had carried for nearly fifteen years, and that perhaps
he could talk her away from further investigation.
“I see where you
could make that mistake, Lieutenant,” he said with a slight chuckle. “But no, Q
was a Trill. A
joined-Trill, like Counselor Gera. And as is traditional, she took on her symbiont’s name when the two were joined. From what Q told me when she was a member of my crew, several centuries ago
one of the Q Continuum entities
happened upon a dying Trill, and in order to save the life of the symbiont, the Q
joined with it. Shared
a lot of its knowledge and experiences.
Later, when that symbiont was joined with a
new host, it kept the name Q. That’s all.”
Faggio looked skeptical as she activated her padd and passed it to the captain.
“I’m afraid it’s
not that simple, Captain. As you can see
in those files, the sub-routines contained complete medical records, override
codes, and secret directives.”
“Secret directives?
What kind of directive would the EMH have to keep secret?” Koester
asked, the icy tingle along his spine quickly returning.
“To prevent the EMH from revealing the fact that your so-called
science officer was, in fact, an actual Q
from the Continuum.”
Koester quickly
reviewed the files stored on the padd and admitted to
himself that it was true, based on the information from the EMH sub-routines,
there was no denying that Q, his
former crew member and – for a time – lover, was indeed one of the entities
from the Q Continuum.
“Have you given
this information to anyone else yet?” the captain asked, hoping the sweat
forming on his brow was not showing.
“No one yet,
sir,” Faggio replied.
“Then why don’t
we keep this between you and I? Clean up the EMH program and call it a day?”
“But, Captain…,” Faggio started to protest.
“This data indicates that you had a hostile alien entity with access to
classified Starfleet information and technology aboard a Federation starship
for almost four years…”
“I would hardly
begin to believe Q was a hostile
alien entity no matter what she may or may not have been!” Koester started to
object.
“…And surely
Starfleet Security must be informed!” Faggio reached for the padd
Koester had put down on his desk. “I’ll
draft a message informing Starfleet Security of these facts and transmit a
communiqué as soon as possible, with your permission, sir.”
Koester hesitated
for a moment. He realized he could not
order Faggio not to send the communiqué without
raising questions about just how much he actually knew about Q’s origin and background. Instead he hoped that the report would somehow
be overlooked by the Admiralty. Looking
at Faggio’s expectant face, he simply nodded
resignedly.
Koester watched
with a worried expression and a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as Faggio exited the ready room. His attention was diverted a moment later as
the Dauntless unexpectedly shuddered
and the warp engines began to sound labored.
Concerned, the captain tapped his combadge.
“Bridge, this is
the Captain. What’s happening?” The voice of Commander Setton To’Lock Arbelo, his first officer, quickly responded.
“We’ve run smack
into an unexpected ion storm, Skipper.”
“Is it affecting
any ship’s systems?” Koester asked, concerned.
“We had to slow
to warp factor two or risk burning out the warp drive,” Arbelo replied. “All other ship systems remain nominal,
except for subspace communications. The
storm has jammed all frequencies, as you might expect. We can neither transmit nor receive right
now.”
“Estimated
duration of the storm?”
“According to
Mister Spot, at current speed, it’ll be almost twelve hours before we clear the
trailing edge of the storm.”
“Very well,”
Koester replied with a sigh. “Keep me
informed, Exec. Koester,
out.”
* * * *
Later that
evening, following a drink with friends in the 10-Forward lounge and his
customary tour of the decks before retiring for the night, Fleet Captain
Koester returned to his quarters where he intended to finish writing a report
to the commander of Starbase 719 that was coming due, read another
chapter of his latest book, and finally go to bed. He had only taken two steps into his quarters
and toward his desk, already in the process of removing his uniform jacket,
when he noticed the brown head of hair just visible over the back of one of his
chairs facing toward the windows.
“Gem?” Koester asked, thinking it was his own teenaged
daughter who, during the time he had been believed dead, had moved into different
quarters with the ship’s counselor, Tanzia Gera. “Is something
wrong? It’s kind of late for you to
still be…”
The chair spun
around and Koester nearly stumbled back into his desk when he recognized the
face of his former science officer, medical officer, and lover.
“Hello, Peter,”
she said.
Q looked exactly like the captain
remembered, except for the ordinary civilian clothes she was wearing in place
of a Starfleet uniform, her long brown hair loose around her shoulders instead
of her customary pony tail, and missing the brown spots of a Trill that framed
her face.
“You…! What are you doing here?” Koester stammered,
unable to think of anything else to say.
He had known Q was not really
killed during the invasion of Cardassia a decade
earlier, but her sudden reappearance back aboard his starship shocked him. A well of emotions erupted within him.
“‘What are you
doing here?’ A fine way to say hello to your
former girlfriend,” Q scolded.
“‘Former.’ May I remind you that you were the one that
disappeared unexpectedly, not me,” Koester retorted, making a point of deliberately
moving behind his desk and sitting down opposite his unexpected visitor.
“As I told you…,”
Q started to say.
“…After the
fact…!” Koester added.
“…Admittedly,
after the fact, I told you something had come up in the Continuum that required my long-term attention. And that it was better for you not to have me
hanging around in the long run.” Q tried to look friendly as she then
asked, “So, how is Gem? And how is Cadet
Cassie doing at the Academy?”
“They’re fine,
thank you,” Koester replied, thinking the question a little odd.
“How about your new wife?
Must be hard having her assigned to another starship so very far away?”
Koester’s
expression started to look a little hostile until he regained control of
himself.
“Been keeping an
eye on me, have you?”
“Let’s just say I
like to keep up with the latest gossip,” Q
replied.
Koester sighed,
resigning himself to the reality of the unexpected visit.
“Too bad the
gossip only goes in one direction. So
what brings you back aboard my ship?” he asked, sounding only slightly
friendlier.
“Your Lieutenant Faggio and the mess she’s dredged up.”
“If it’s a mess,
it’s of your making. Faggio
was just doing her job,” Koester said, his tone returning to annoyance as he
defended his junior officer.
“True
enough. I didn’t clean up after myself
as well as I probably should have, but I didn’t anticipate your Doctor Rasa
tampering with the Doctor either. And I
had a lot on my mind at the time I had to leave, not the least of which was my
anger at the Continuum for forcing me
to abandon someone I loved again.”
“Well, the cat’s
out of the bag now,” Koester remarked.
“As soon as we clear this ion storm, Lieutenant Faggio
will be transmitting a report with all the information from the sub-routines
you programmed into the Doctor back to Starfleet. They’ll finally know that a Q had infiltrated as a member of this
ship’s crew. And they’ll probably want
to know if I knew.”
“And I can’t let
that happen,” Q replied. “Which is why you won’t be
clearing the storm anytime soon.”
“This ion storm
is your doing? What do you mean you can’t
let that happen?” Koester asked, disliking the tone of Q’s pronouncement.
“Peter, if the
Federation were to learn what I really am, what I was when I served aboard this
ship – and I did SERVE this ship – and compiles such specific detailed data
about the Q, our whole study of
humanity would be threatened! There are
certain members of the Continuum –
some of whom you have met – that would simply eliminate this entire starship
and its crew rather than risk letting any clue to recognizing the Q be revealed!”
“Other Q?” Koester
asked.
“Peter,” Q said, speaking as if to a young
child. “The Q have been studying humanity for
centuries, as the beings closest to what we once were and the species with the
greatest chance of eventually surpassing us.
Surely you didn’t think I was the only member of the Continuum studying the Federation from
within, did you?”
Koester looked
surprised by Q’s admission.
“It never really
occurred to me,” he said.
“The Continuum insists I rectify this problem
by erasing this ship and crew from existence.
As far as Starfleet would know, you’d just be another mysterious
casualty of their mission of exploration.”
Koester just
stared at Q standing across the desk
from him, his expression unreadable.
“Is that what you
intend to do?” he asked, picking up a framed picture that had been on his desk
and looking at it momentarily before placing it back down, now facing his uninvited
visitor. The image showed Gem Koester,
dressed in her Fleet Space Cadet uniform, hugging her father. Q stared
back at the captain, her own expression a mixture of frustration and
sadness. The two former lovers continued
to stare each other down for several seconds until Q finally took a deep breath.
“I intend to do a
better job of cleaning up,” she said. Then, before Koester could react in any way, Q kissed the palm of her hand and
slapped it against the seat of her pants…
* * * *
Koester had been
having a pleasant dream before he suddenly awoke with a start as the
chronometer alarm on his nightstand went off.
He noticed it displayed 0500 hours as he whacked off the alarm with his
hand and started to crawl out of bed, surprised to realize he had slept
completely nude.
Trying to recall
what had happened as he grabbed his robe off the back of a nearby chair, the last thing he could remember was his conversation
in the living room with Q. Suddenly he had a sinking feeling in the pit
of his stomach.
The captain
rushed to his desk, where he touched one of the control buttons near the
monitor and said, “Computer, what is the location of Lieutenant Joella Faggio?”
The computer
sounded its customary tone before replying, “Lieutenant Faggio
is not aboard the Dauntless.” Further fear gripped the captain.
“What did you do,
Q?” he muttered before he added, “Computer,
location of Commander Jeffery Bloom?”
“Commander Bloom
is in main engineering.”
Koester quickly
activated the intercom on his desk before saying, “Koester to Bloom.”
“Bloom here. Good morning, Skipper,” the chief engineer said.
“Jeff, do you have
any idea where Lieutenant Faggio is?”
“Who?” Bloom replied over the background noise that sounded
like someone dragging a large chunk of metal across the deck. “Never heard of him.”
Koester was
nearly in a panic as he said, “Faggio! Joella Faggio!”
“Oh, Faggio!” Bloom said. “Sorry, Skipper. It’s a little noisy down here, cleaning up
after the ion storm battered us around a bit during the night. I thought you said
“That’s fine,”
Koester said, relaxing slightly. “Could
you have her come see me when she gets back inside?”
“Aye, Skipper,”
Bloom replied.
Two hours later,
Koester was dressed in his uniform and sitting in the command chair on the
bridge.
“Captain,
engineering reports repairs are complete and we’re capable of all speeds
through maximum warp,” reported Lieutenant Tom Riker from the ops console.
“Very well. Mister Breitling, resume course, warp
six.”
As the helmsman
acknowledged the order and accelerated the starship, the starboard turbolift door behind Koester’s right shoulder swished open
and Lieutenant Faggio, still wearing most of her EVA
space suit except for the helmet, stepped out.
“You wished to
see me, Captain?” she asked nervously.
“Yes, I did,”
Koester said, standing from his chair and gesturing toward the ready room
doors. “Alasdair, you have the conn.” Once inside
the ready room, the captain offered Faggio a seat on
the couch as he grabbed one of the chairs from in front of his desk. “You haven’t by chance transmitted that
report to Starfleet Security yet, have you, Lieutenant?”
Faggio’s expression changed from worry to confusion.
“What report,
Captain?”
“The report on
the data you discovered in the EMH sub-routines,” Koester said insistently.
“Data?” Faggio looked even more confused. “I reviewed the EMH program yesterday
afternoon, like Commander Bloom requested.
Found a few lines of corrupted code when compared to the original base
program, probably left over from the damage Doctor Rasa caused. All the other non-standard sub-routines could
be explained as being the personality our EMH has developed over the last
fifteen years. But I found no extraneous
data. The EMH is now up and running
perfectly again, much to Doctor MacMillan’s
dismay. He was hoping I’d just erase the
whole program.”
“Really?” Koester replied, slightly confused but his pulse
starting to return to normal for the first time since his unexpected visit the
previous night. “That’s good,
Lieutenant. Good work.”
Still a little
puzzled, Faggio started to get up as she asked, “Is
there anything else, Captain?”
“No,
Lieutenant. I guess I was simply
misinformed. I’m sorry for making you
rush up here right after a spacewalk,” Koester said as both walked back out
onto the bridge.
“That’s okay,
Captain. I was just worried I had done
something stupid.”
“Not at all. And tell
Commander Bloom I’m authorizing you your next duty shift off, to make up for
all the extra work you’ve been putting in.”
“Yes, sir! Thank you,
sir!” the Betazoid woman replied with a wide smile as
she stepped back into the turbolift and disappeared
behind its closing doors.
“Everythin’ alright, Cap’n?”
Commander Alasdair Wallace asked as he relinquished the command chair when
Koester walked over.
“Yes, Alasdair,”
the captain replied with a smile.
“Everything seems fine.”
* * * *
His bridge shift
over, Koester returned to his quarters.
Once inside, he pulled off his uniform jacket, hanging it over the back
of his chair as he sat down at his desk, intent on finishing the report he had planned
to write the previous evening. Before
activating his monitor, he noticed the picture frame he kept on his desk was
still turned around, facing away. The
captain reached over to the frame and spun it around to face himself once
again, surprised to find what looked like a hand-written note stuck between the
frame and picture. He pulled the note
out and read it.
If it had been
anyone other than you…! Give Gem my
congratulations. I’m sure she’s going to
do really well.
Puzzled about the
meaning of the latter part of the note, though confident he knew who it was
from, he tossed it into his desk drawer and continued his report to Admiral Raiajh. Several
minutes later, the door chime rung.
Slightly annoyed by the interruption, he looked toward the door and
said, “Come.” The door opened to admit
the captain’s daughter, Gem.
“Hey, Dad. You have a
couple of minutes to talk?” she asked.
“Sure, Sweetie.
What’s up?”
“I’ve told you
how great it is having you back, right?”
“Yes, you
did. Somewhere in between ‘It’s my life’
and ‘I want to continue living in the quarters I’m sharing with Counselor Gera,’ I believe.”
Gem blushed
slightly before continuing, “Do you realize how hard it was for me at times
when you were gone, thinking you were dead?”
“I can imagine,
and I’m sorry, but it wasn’t by choice I assure you,” Koester replied,
wondering what had prompted this particular conversation.
“I know you
didn’t choose to go away like you did.
I’m just… Well… Trying to explain that I
grew to depend on a lot of people aboard the ship to help me through your
absence. Carrie, Tanzi, Chief Kyman, Gunny O’Laughlin…”
“I realize that. They all told me about how they watched over
you, once I got back. But what, if I may
ask, is the point of this conversation?”
“I just want to
make sure you know…”
“I do know,”
Koester assured.
“No. I just want to make sure that you know you can depend on their
support too,” Gem said.
“Of course I know
that!” Koester chided. “Gee, you almost
make it sound like it’s your turn to disappear or something.”
“What would you
do if I did have to leave, Dad?”
Koester could
feel the pit forming in his stomach again as he said, “I suppose it would
depend on where you’re going. Why do you
ask?”
Gem hesitated for
a moment, as if trying to decide how to properly word her answer. Finally she just handed her father a small padd she had been holding behind her back as she said,
“Carrie helped me fill out the application last year.”
Koester activated
the small screen. On it was displayed a
note of congratulations;
The Superintendent of
Sincerely, John Nicholson, VADM
Superintendent,
Koester’s
expression quickly changed from one of concern, through astonishment, before
finally breaking out in a huge smile.
“You’ve received
an appointment to the Academy?
Congratulations, Sweetie!”
“You’re not mad
I’m leaving?” Gem asked sheepishly.
“I’m surprised,”
Koester admitted. “You’re only 16 after
all.”
“I’ll be 17 by
the time classes begin. And the officer
who interviewed me said that my service aboard the Dauntless and in the Fleet Space Cadet Corps reflected highly on my
abilities and potential.”
Koester enveloped
his daughter in a hug before asking, “Who was your sponsor?”
“Admiral Fil,” she replied.
“I’ll have to
thank Penji later.
And Carrie the next time I speak to her.
Does anyone else know about this yet?”
“Only Mister Riker.
He received the communiqué, but he promised not to tell anyone before I
broke the news to you.”
Koester stood up
and put his uniform jacket back on before saying, “You’re going to have to
leave the ship within a month if you’re going to get back to
“Where are we
going?” Gem asked.
“10-Forward. This
calls for a celebration!” Koester replied.
* * * *
In the 10-Forward
lounge, Joella Faggio was
enjoying her ‘day off’ with Lt Commander Amanda Windsor, the two engineers
sipping Samarian Sunsets at a table near the starboard side of the room.
“Have you heard
the latest news from Ferenginar?”
“I’m not
sure.” Faggio
stopped starung at her drink for a moment to look
over at her superior officer. “You ever
have the nagging feeling like you’ve forgotten something, but you can’t for the
life of you remember what it was?” Faggio asked the
Assistant Chief Engineer.
“Not for a very
long time, Leftenant, but I have in the past,”
“Until what, Commander?”
“Until Chief
Engineer Watkins called me and wanted to know why the plasma coolant tank
hadn’t been flushed out yet, like I had been ordered the previous shift, but I
had gotten distracted by some minutia.
There was a minor leak forming in engineering, and you know what plasma
coolant can do to organic material.” Faggio’s eyes
widened in shock and surprise. “As
an engineer, I’m sure you know how dangerous a situation like that could be and
how difficult plasma coolant can be to work with. I was scrubbing the deck in engineering everyday
for three months following that incident.
You can believe I took measures to make sure I never forgot anything
like that again.”
Faggio nodded, making a mental note that if she could
remember whatever it was that was nagging at her, she would be sure to develop
a system to keep from forgetting anything ever again. It was then that she noticed one of the
lounge doors open and Fleet Captain Koester walk in,
hand in hand, with his daughter Gem. The
pair quickly moved through the room and over to the very front, where they
turned to face the bar, Gem looking slightly embarrassed in Faggio’s
opinion.
“Excuse me!” the
captain called out. “Can I have
everyone’s attention please!”
The lounge
quieted down as everyone present turned their attention toward the pair. Koester then tapped his combadge
and said, “Bridge, this is the Captain.”
“Go ahead,
Skipper,” replied the voice of First Officer Setton Arbelo.
“Connect me to
the whole ship, Exec.”
There was a
second’s pause, followed by Arbelo saying, “You’re on, Captain.”
“Attention all
hands, this is the Captain speaking,” Koester said, his voice echoing
throughout the entire starship. “I have
a special announcement, some great news I had to share with all of you. I’m sure, after many years of serving aboard
this starship, you are all well acquainted with my daughter, Gem.” There arose a murmur of general agreement
from the crowd in 10-Forward. “I am
pleased to announce that Gem has just received word that she has been accepted
into the next incoming class of cadets at
Immediately
everyone in 10-Forward, including Faggio and Windsor,
rose to their feet and started clapping.
Gem turned a darker shade of red, mortified by all the unexpected
attention, as several of the crew, including Chief of the Boat Pono R. Kyman, Marine Lt Colonel
Sean McIntyre, and Commander Alasdair Wallace and other members of the command
staff, along with many of her classmates and friends like Lauren and Emma, all rushed
into the lounge to personally offer their congratulations to Gem. Within moments, a full-blown congratulations
and farewell party had broken out, and everyone aboard was invited.
The End
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