Chapter 2: All I Ask is a Tall Ship (part 3)

Chapter 2: ALL I ASK IS A TALL SHIP (part 3)

"Aye Sir, I will do my best" is what Brian told the captain

As he walked out of the conference room he thought:

I just hope my best is good enough.

Entering the turbolift Brian tapped his combadge,

"Archer to Strider, where are you Cassie?"

"In the gym."

"Finish up, I want to get the department assembled."

"I'm just about done anyway,"

"Cargo Bay one in thirty?"

"Sounds good, Strider out."

As Cassie closed the channel Brian addressed the Icarus' main computer.

"Computer, send to all security personnel, meeting in Cargo Bay One in thirty minutes."

"Message sent" replied the computer.

The turbolift deposited Brian on deck three and he walked to the security office. As he sat down behind the desk he pulled up the personnel file of Cadet First Class Thran. The record he looked at was impressive. It appeared that Thran was not as young as Brian first thought. His record stated he had six years with the Andorian Defense Force before joining Starfleet.

Perhaps this Cadet is going to be more useful than I thought.

Brian read further and saw that Thran was indeed near the top of his academy class and had extremely high scores in his tactical classes as well as on the phaser range. The more Brian read the more impressed he became and thought perhaps Starfleet Command hadn't gone completely insane, but then this whole mission seemed a bit crazy. Brian shook his head and closed the file. He would screen the rest of the crew later, but now he needed to make his way to the cargo bay.
Brian stopped by the armory on his way to cargo bay one and picked up the phaser he'd asked Lt. Callen to check out for him. As he walked into the bay he saw both Cassie and Callen waiting there already with what looked like most, if not all, of the ship's security personnel.

"Icarus Security, Attention!" Callen called out as Brian strode toward them.

"Thank you Mister Callen," Brian said allowing his lips to curl into the hint of a smile. It disappeared though as he turned to face his new charges.

"Raise your hand if you were there when Cardassia Prime fell." Brian put his hand in the air and looked for others. He saw a couple other hands and identified their owners as very senior Master Chief Petty Officers.

"The mission this ship is about to embark on is no less important to the security of the Federation than that battle was; I know… I was there. For all of us, we are going to be an integral part of the success or failure of that mission. Ladies and Gentlemen this is our ship, and the people aboard it are ours to protect from Captain Sterling all the way down to the lowliest crewman. I don't know most of you, and you don't know me but we will have to work together to ensure the security of this mission and to sweep any threat out of the way."

Brian made eye contact with as many of them as he could before he continued.

"We are going to do things a bit differently here on the Icarus. We will operate outside the normal Starfleet work hours so that anyone who might plan an attack will not be able to do it based on shift changes. When you are on duty you will wear a phaser at all times so that if anything happens you are ready. There is saying on Earth that goes pray for peace, but prepare for war, and that is exactly what we will do. We will protect the Icarus, her crew, and her guests, but at the same time you will be suspicious. If you see something or someone out of place don't hesitate to question it. If doesn't look or feel right, it probably isn't. Trust your instincts and don't hesitate to act on them. Some of you will be assigned specifically to diplomatic security. I will let you know when I figure out who that will be. Alpha shift, I want you on station immediately. Our job begins now people. Dismissed."

Brian watched as they began to break up and leave the cargo bay, and Cassie came over to him.

"Nice speech," she said

"Thanks, it wasn't too dramatic?"

"As long as you believe it, so will they."

Just then, Brian spotted Cadet Thran and stopped him.

"Cadet, come here a moment."

Thran walked over and joined them.

"Yes, Sir?"

"How come you didn't tell me you'd been in the Andorian Defense Force?"

"You didn't ask Sir, and I didn't want to brag." Thran replied with a smile

"I see...Mister Thran, when I am on the bridge so are you, when I am on the phaser range so are you, when I am in the briefing room so are you. If you want to be a Starfleet tactical officer you will learn the way things are done, and don't hesitate to offer your opinion. Do you understand?"
"Aye Sir."

"Good, you can start by accompanying me back to the security office. We have crew and diplomat records to screen for security risks. Cassie, Mister Callen the diplomats are already aboard. Assign them two security officers each, and make sure our people know they are not tour guides. If these ambassadors want tours have them contact Ops."

"You got it." Cassie replied and Brian and Thran walked out of the cargo bay.

* * *

With the end of the meeting, Doctor Jayvin Cyl stood up and moved to the door, stopping for a moment to stare at the captain.

"He is a dead ringer of his grandfather..." He mumbled as he walked out and entered the turbo lift.

"All Medical personal report to sickbay in ten minutes for a quick meeting. In twenty minutes, alpha shift security personnel to report to sickbay for preliminary medical exams. That is all." Jayvin announced to the ship with a smile.

He was quietly happy to be out of that meeting and to get back to the work of being a doctor.

Jayvin whistled happily as he walked down the corridor to sickbay. He gave the backside of a young female Bajoran officer a glance, only to be yelled at in his head by Cyl.

You should be above such things, Jayvin.

Ah let me enjoy a few of the perks of being single...

Cyl grumbled inside his head as they entered sickbay and began to set up the personal in to five nursing staffs to give exam to personnel with one doctor to supervise and deal with anything that might arise in each specific team.

They would be ready, comes what may.

Later, Jayvin sat in his newly decorated office, his feet on his deck as he opened the intraship channel from his combadge.

"Alpha shift security, report to sickbay at once. Alpha shift flight ops, please report to sickbay in ten minutes."

Then he began to read through his officer's personal reports.

* * *

All the while, Captain Sterling arrived into his ready room and walked over to the replicator.

“Green tea… hot”.

Picking up the freshly replicated beverage, he walked over to his large and comfortable-looking ready room chair in front of his terminal viewscreen and sat down. As he examined this chair, he realized that it was a throwback to ancient craftsmanship of old Earth. Where had Walsh obtained this interesting relic? Sterling pondered and then smirked as he realized that perhaps that this was Captain Walsh’s way of presenting one refurbished relic within another to the Captain who commanded this renovated old Excelsior-Class ship. It was composed of leather and old fashioned stitching and was padded enough to give the chair an overall sense of stable support without feeling like something too soft and cushiony. He took a sip of the steaming herbal tea and placed the cup into a built-in cup holder within the pristine wooden table as he engaged the computing device.

This was the first opportunity that the Captain had a moment alone to actually gather his thoughts and prepare for the mission. After engaging his security, codes he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes.

Would this newly assembled crew really be prepared to handle the challenges that they were about to face? Would these officers find and harness the personal and professional chemistry needed to become a truly affective team? He pondered.

Commander Hartzer took the cue, but was slightly distracted by the captain's conversation with Mister Archer, and when she looked back the Romulan had vanished.

"Scuse me, gents," she said, slipping by Archer while making a note to be filled in on whatever she missed.

It took her not very long at all to make her way to the bridge, where she suspected she would find Falcar. Sure enough, when the turbo opened, there he was, standing next to the helm console.

"Mistuh Falcar, I see ya foun' ya seat," she said in greeting. "Lookit dat, we're neighbors," she added with a reassuring smile.

She glanced at the display on her console briefly before turning back to him.

"Here's da data on Khii," she said, handing the PADD to him so he could download it to his console. "Ain't terrible much dere; li'l M-class planet, almost more of a moon, small population of Romulan citizens, mostly agriculture 'n' farmin', though dey've recently gotten some new folks , refugees mostly, lookin' for a new start. Dey've been informed we're comin', so dey'll be ready for us. It's just on da Romulan side of da border by da Rator system. Barely escaped destruction by the Hobus Supernova, and dere's some screwy anom'lies 'round from all da subspace distortion. Still, ain't nuthin' ya shouldn' be able t' handle."

"Now," she continued, "we've got two ways t' do dis. One, ya can go through Federation space 'long the Nuetral Zone, or two, ya can cross da border direct-like an' cut through Romulan territory. Da Romulan way is faster -it cuts our ETA by about four days, down t' a week- but like all big decisions dere are some people who ain't exactly pleased. Officially we've been garanteed safe passage, but..." She shrugged. "Dere's wackos in ev'ry species. Da Federation route skirts da border, crossin' at da last possible second. It's longer, though, an' da sooner we get dere da better," she finished, summarizing it for him.

The technical details were on the PADD, including exact coordinates.

"Given ya knowledge of da Romulans an' da area, what're ya thoughts?"

Falcar took a look at the PADD, and studied it for a moment. He looked up to respond.

“Either way would be acceptable. However, I’d like to time to study this to make a better decision, but ultimately the course we take will be up to you and the Captain. As for knowing this region of space, too much has changed.” Falcar said, and then added under his breath: “Too much.”

Louder he finished:

“Once I get my security clearance, I’ll go to Stellar Cartography, to get a better look at the two courses. I’ll let you two know my thoughts on the two options.”

Falcar nodded to the Commander and looked down at the PADD once more. He looked it over, till the Security chief came, to assist Falcar in his security clearance.

"Ya haven't gotten dat yet?" she asked, blinking, momentarily nonplussed.

She moved to Falcar's side, and her agile fingers danced over the console too fast to read.

"Well, I can fix dat. One sec...."

Frazetti firmly believed in the ''if something needs to be done, do it yourself'' philosophy. Plus it would save Archer time, and she suspected he'd have his hands full with that new cadet of his.

She typed in her level 9 security clearance, and wrote in the apprpriate commands.

"...Dere. Dat should do it. Ya've got access t' everythin' dat a regular Starfleet helm officer ought t' have access to."

She moved back from the console, nodding.

"Mind you, dat don't include da other stations, like science 'n' such. If ya need t' get access to dem, or anythin' else, lemme know- and," she added, dropping her voice a notch, "ya shouln' have trouble wit' da crew, but if ya do, let me know 'bout dat too."

She'd be having none of that nonsense on the Icarus. Everyone deserved the chance.

"An' while I'm at it... Here's ya codes for yer office on Deck 13 'n' quarters on Deck 3."

She paused, checking her chronometer.

"I think I oughta go check my department, as well as a few other things. Carry on, Mistuh Falcar," she said more formally, nodding to the Romulan. Then she turned away and exited the bridge to the turbo.

Falcar looked up and smiled.

“Thank you, commander.”

As she left he circled the front stations and sat down at Helm. He tapped at the console for a moment to check over the systems that the console was tied to.

Seems like everything is set here. Just hope the thrusters and engines are checked out by the engineers.

Falcar then rose and walked to the turbo lift, he entered and turned to take a quick look at the Bridge, before the doors closed.

“Deck 3.”

The lift began to move and shortly thereafter, the doors opened. Falcar stepped out and walked to his quarters. He moved to the desk that he had noticed before heading to the conference. He sat down at the desk and turned the computer on to look at the crew in the Flight ops department. After taking a moment to look over the names, he stood up and tapped his combadge.

“All flight operations crew, report to Cargo bay…. 2.” He had to think which one to use, and hoped he knew how to get there.

He shut off the computer and left his quarters, heading for the turbo lift.

“Cargo Bay 2.”

The lift began to move downward. The doors opened up, and Falcar exited. He looked around and didn’t see any obvious signs for cargo Bay 2, so he stopped a crewmember and asked.

“Can you tell me where Cargo bay 2 is?”

The crewmember smiled.

“This way, I’m headed there myself.”

He was a Benzite man, in his mid late 20’s. He turned to Falcar.

“I’m Rondeck, how about you.”

“I’m Sub-Commander Janus Falcar.”

As the Benzite heard that name, he stopped and stood at attention.

“Sorry, Sir, I didn’t know who you were. I’m Lieutenant junior grade Rondeck, Chief of Shuttle Operations, Sir.”

Falcar stopped also and turned towards the pilot.

“It’s fine, let’s just get to the cargo bay.”

The two started walking again, with a puzzled look on Rondeck’s face.

“So... Sir, why in a hurry if I may ask?”

“Because I’m rather behind in work, and I get the feeling that the Captain wants to get started very soon.”

“Oh, then let's hurry, Sir.” Rondeck said, as the two walked faster.

Falcar began to smile at this new officer.

The two entered the cargo bay and the officers were already assembled. Although not everyone was there, most of them were. They stood at attention, and a few started to give Falcar the look, the look of ''what are you doing here.''

“At ease. I am Sub-Commander Falcar, the new helm officer and chief of flight ops. I don’t have a lot of time, so this will be brief. First off, who’s the second in command of the flight ops department?”

Everyone looked around thinking this questions was a test or a joke.

“This isn’t a test. I haven’t had time to access the crew roster in detail, yet.”

A Caitian man stepped forward,

“Sir, Lieutenant junior grade Herek, Assistant Chief Flight Control Officer.”

“Ok, good. Herek, those who come in later, please bring them up to speed, as I have a lot to do in a short amount of time. Ok, so time for the speech. We are here to fly. End of speech.”

The officers began to laugh.

“But seriously, we have everyone’s lives in our hands, we fly the ship and shuttles, and it’s our responsibility to fly safely and as smoothly as possible. It’s our goal, to do this. But that will be it for now. Rondeck, please get me the status of all shuttles, and send it to my PADD, Herek, please get me the status of flight controls and again send it to my PADD. Please do this as soon as possible.”

With the 2 officers nodding in agreement, Falcar turned and left the cargo bay. Falcar, back-tracked his path to the turbo lift and entered.

“Stellar Cartography.”

The lift activated and moved swiftly. The doors opened and he stepped out. He began to wander the corridor but a moment later found the stellar cartography room. He entered and found it empty. He entered the large room and took a seat. He began tapping away, inputting coordinates, possible courses, and checking over the region of space in which the ship might pass through.

With in a moment, the large screen came to life and the region of space in which they were currently in appeared on the screen. Then, two red lines shot off on the map. Falcar began to study everything he could that was currently on the map.

It was barely a couple of minutes that he had been sitting and studying the stellar maps when he heard the call from the Chief Medical Officer.

Falcar looked up from the Stellar Cartography console and let out a sigh.

Can’t I just do my job?He thought.

He tapped the console a few times and saved the work he had been doing. He rose and walked out of the lab. He made his way to the Turbo lift and ordered:

“Sickbay.”

The lift moved and opened its doors in a short amount of time. He stepped out and began walking through the ship until finally he came to the sickbay door and entered. The medical area of the ship was very busy, as numerous officers quickly moved across the room. Two officers were sitting on a biobed, two that were familiar to him. They were the Caitian and Benzite that he had met earlier. Falcar walked up to them.

“Herek and Rondeck, right...” He pointed to them, while saying their names.

“Yes, Sir,” Rondeck responded.

“Rom… Sir, I’ve almost completed my report and should be sent to you in a bit.” Herek said.

“Good,” Janus acknowledged, feeling a little awkward by Herek's lapses. “Hopefully we will get a chance to get together, after we launch and all of us not so busy.”

Falcar nodded to them after they were given a cleared bill of health, and they left. He then sat up on the bed that had once been occupied by the two officers.

"You're clear to work, Ensign" The young nurse replied with a smile to the crewman on the biobed next to the Romulan's, before turning towards him. When she found that her next patient was a Romulan in his Star Empire uniform. She quite literally made a double take before stepping over with wide eyes.

"Uhh... Hello," she said, forcing a smile as she scanned him with her medical tricorder.

"Well that’s... odd..." the nurse said and then without another word headed directly to Doctor Cyl's office and buzzed the door.

"Come in," Javyin replied as he put his legs under the table.

Shyly, the young nurse entered the room.

"Sir there is umm... a Romulan officer in sickbay."

"I know nurse; he is the helm officer."

"Oh... well... I scanned him and there seems to be some sort of liver damage, but I can't tell what kind."

"Hmm... I will take a look."

Doctor Cyl and the young woman walked back to Janus Falcar still waiting stoically on the bed.

"Hello there, Falcar. Sorry for the wait. "

He then took out his medical tricorder and scanned him.

After giving the tricorder a quick glance, Javyin asked.

"So just how much do you drink?"

Janus took a moment to think while he looked down. He then returned his gaze up, but not looking at the Doctor.

"A little."

"Mhm... Well... if you like your liver, you might want to drink a little less Romulan ale."

A sour look came to the face of Falcar.

"I'll think about it."

With the loss that he had been through, it was unlikely that he would stop. It was the only good way for him, under present circumstances, to take the pain away, the pain of loss.

As if reading his mind, the Trill doctor then suggested:

"There is always the holodeck if you need to work out some stress, Sub-Lieutenant. Much healthier to take out some stress on some holographic enemies than poisoning yourself."

Jayvin paused a moment before adding.

"Oh, and of course, our ship counselor could help you if you need."

The look on Falcar's face showed plainly that he didn't like the counselor idea.

"I'll deal with it myself."

"Mhm... You’re clear for duty... for now." Doctor Cyl replied then as he walked back to his office.

Falcar had a dissatisfied look on his face, on how things went with the medical staff. Nothing bad, but he didn't like them prying into his life. He got up off the bed and left Sickbay. He returned to the stellar cartography lab. As he entered he looked around and again it was empty. He sat down and turned the screen on and continued to study the map and courses for their upcoming assignment.

After spending time in Stellar Cartography, Falcar had finished his work, on the two best courses. He rose, and left. He made a quick trip back to his quarters, laid his PADD on his table, and moved into his bedroom.

He opened the top drawer of his dress and searched it for a bottle. He took out a blue bottle and brought it into the living area. He walked up to the replicators and spoke out loud:

“One empty glass.”

He took the bottle and glass to his desk and sat down. Falcar let out a sigh, poured himself a drink and turned on the computer. He began looking over the files of those who were serving in the flight ops department.

He drank his drink, and continued to look over the records of his staff.

* * *

Moments before Janus Falcar did, First Offcier Frazetti Hartzer had also used the bridge’s turbolift. Once inside, she tapped her badge.

"Hartzer t' Archer. Wanted ya t' know I gave Mistuh Falcar da access he needed for his station 'n' quarters 'n' office, so you don't have t' worry 'bout dat. Wanted t' make sure ya knew. Hartzer out."

Then she tapped it again as the door opened to the deck Operations was on, making her way there with quick, sure strides. The Ops workroom was buzzing quietly, and Phelix turned to see her enter.

"Ah, Commander, here to take the tour?" he asked with a smile.

"Dat'd be darb, Mistuh Phelix. Hadn' had da chance t' get down here wit' all da crazy goin' on, but I wanna get t' know my department an' my people. But it's your's too, an' so dat's where I figure I oughta start," Frazetti said, walking with him.
The Operations workroom was a multi-use facility, with consoles tied into many major systems. As the jack-of-all-trades department, they were involved with many diverse aspects of the ship and Ops personnel worked closely with the tactical, engineering, and science departments. Thus they had to be on par with, well, everyone.

"Well, we've all only just been transferred here," he said, as she moved around, watching with keen cerulean eyes. "But I don't see any problems ahead. We've got a mixed bag; this is, after all, Starfleet."

He handed her a PADD. She took it and looked it over.

There were ten officers assigned to Alpha shift including Phelix, eleven including herself. She saw an Andorian, a Betazoid, and several other classic Federation species, as well as a few oddball species, like the nonbiological Ensign Flint. He was a Geode, a walking, talking, roughly human-shaped crystalline sentient species. They had arisen on a planet that was mostly silicon; sentience had arisen when the silicon was layered down like a computer chip, powered by several geothermal processes. They were characterized by color; his, a smoky grey, had given him his name. They all looked well up to the task.

"Dat's good. I know Ops is mostly ready for launch. What do we gotta do still?"

"Minor calibrations of some communications equipment and a few sensors."

"Ain't nuthin' much den."

"Nope," he replied cheerfully.

"Darb. Well, when we're done wit' what we gotta do, let's see 'bout assistin' da other departments. I get da feelin' Boss wants to blow dis hot dog stand, an' be on our way."

Phelix was dying to ask where it was they were going and what they were doing, but he knew the rules as well as she did, and settled for a hopeful look.

She laughed.

"Don' give me dem eyes, I invented dat look."

"Spoilsport."

"I live t' serve. Holler at me if ya need anythin'. I'm gonna go check out my quarters, den drop by da Boss's Ready Room," she replied. She liked Phelix. They'd get along well, both of them being very easy going. With a nod, she exited as she had entered, making for the turbo once more.

"Deck 2."

Her quarters were on Deck 2; in fact, hers and the Captain's were the only ones on this level, situated in close proximity to the bridge for a good reason. The turbo let her out, and she found it easily enough, punching in her passcode to open the door.

"Hey, dis is nice," she said to herself, pleasantly surprised at her spacious quarters.

She took off her hat for a moment and ran her hands through her lion's mane of curly gold hair, setting the dark red and grey fedora on the arm of the couch. Two chairs sat in front of it and a long, low wooden coffee table. The entire back wall was one big window to space, which was amazing in the view that it offered. To the right was a table and chairs by the replicator. Against the wall opposite the couch and coffee table was a work desk, computer terminal and a nice leather-imitation chair.

A few generic painting were on the walls. A perky green plant was in the corner. She moved to the bedroom. The bed was a queen's size, and when she sat on it experimentally, soft and cushy. A habitual late nighter, Frazetti nonetheless thought she may get to bed earlier from now on if she had this to look forward to. A chaise lounger and a table and lamp occupied the corner across from the bed. And two large bookcases, one with real books for all the worlds! The other was loaded with more conventional PADDs and took up the wall space next to the chaise. The bathroom was as nice as the living area and bedroom.

Very cozy. A gal could get used t' dis, she thought happily. She had a few changes in mind already; for instance, a hat rack... but that could wait.

Satisfied, she exited and went to go find Captain Sterling. They had a few things to discuss...

* * *

It was shortly before launch when Counselor Pasqual came back from the main lounge. The expression of his green-hued face showed the kind of annoyance you would expect from a parent having just dealt with some unruly child as he stepped out of the turbolift.
Without acknowledging anyone, he went straight to the captain's ready room door, although he briefly considered taking an EVA suit from the bridge airlock locker and bail out while there was still chance to do so.

Hands behind his back in a formal attention stance he still somewhat managed to make look casual, he stood in front of the door a moment, as if pondering the wisdom of what he was about to do... then, with a theatrical gesture, he pushed on the chime button.

The captain is not going to like this, he thought. With any luck, he will call off this whole thing... or else even better; he might just push me out the airlock himself...

“Enter” Sterling announced deeply and clearly.

The door slid open with a sigh that almost seemed to come out from the counselor standing on its sill. Hands crossed behind him, he bent his torso to peer inside, than came in, looking a moment around him as if distracted by the decor until he came right in front of his commanding officer.

Standing at attention in his peculiar way that curiously made it look almost casual, Ray looked straight at Sterling.

''I just met with the ambassadors, Captain Sir,'' he said in a calm tone. ''They have settled into the VIP section and are preparing themselves for the diplomatic meeting with the Romulans in their private quarters, where they should be for most of the journey. They are saying the ship and her facilities appear to be... adequate. Only one... problem... Captain Sir...''

He looked unblinking at his commanding officer for a second, then two, before finally saying;

''All three of them... they are Vulcans.''

“Please have a seat, Mister Pasqual, while I see what facts and perhaps background I may acquire regarding our newly arrived delegation” the Captain replied as he engaged his terminal with a specific inquiry.

"Meanwhile, tell me Counselor, what is your initial concern regarding these delegates?”

The Orion officer took the offered seat and lost no time explaining;

''Captain; Romulans are an offshoot of the Vulcan people. There are thousands of years of history between them and separating them... and all of it not that pleasant, especially when you add the other offshoots of the Vulcan Great Exodus, the Remans and the Watrai. Both Romulans and Vulcans know and understand the facts of it all, which fuels both isolationists and unificationist extremists on both worlds. But the worst of it, Sir, is not so much that some Romulans do not accept the rationale behind any reconciliation as it is the simple fact that no Vulcan can even begin to grasp how the Romulans feel about it.''

Sitting back in his chair and crossing his muscular arms across his wide chest, Ray finished with a humorless smirk saying:

''In short, Captain Sir, the Vulcans... they just don't get it.''

Captain Sterling listened carefully as Counselor Pasqual explained his initial apprehension with Starfleet’s choice of Federation Ambassadors to meet with the Romulan Council. What the Counselor stated seemed a reasonable and legitimate concern to the Captain.

There has to be more to this than meets the eye, the ship commander thought; and I am sure that the Vulcans were tight-lipped and aloof in their first contact with the counselor regarding their mission.

“At this point Counselor, I corroborate with your apprehension. Let me see what I can find out about them… and see if it will shed some light on why Starfleet Command and the Federation Council have come up with such an unlikely choice of a delegation."

The Captain then began to examine some of his top security messages that he hadn’t even had a moment to access since his arrival on the Icarus. He then discovered several encrypted messages regarding the mission and the delegates. He activated and decoded the first one and read through it carefully.

“Well, Mister Pasqual, it would appear that Starfleet has chosen to enlighten me with several messages regarding our impending mission. According to this dossier concerning the delegates, these three Vulcan representatives were essentially protégés mentored by none other than Ambassador Spock himself soon after his unification efforts were discovered by Starfleet and the Romulan Star Empire. Apparently, they had been in contact with Ambassador Spock during a variety different times over the past two decades while attempting to bring… what seems like a dialogue regarding the possibility an acceptance of his reunification philosophy within Vulcan Council.”

Sterling paused for a moment as he continued to scan through the records and then proceeded on with the existing information.

“Despite the resistance and repeated rejection by the Vulcan Council, especially in consideration of the deliberate betrayal of Romulan Senator Pardek and his thwarted attempt to send over two thousand Romulan troops posing as a ‘peace envoy’ aboard three stolen Vulcan ships, like some semblance of an intergalactic Trojan horse designed to invade the Vulcan homeworld itself twenty years ago, their efforts continued.”

He continued referencing the information.

“In the council’s eyes though,” Sterling inferred, “Pardek represented the type of Romulan treachery that the council referred back to repeatedly: the Senator posing as a proponent of peaceful reunification initiatives while secretively working with Commander Sela and the Tal Shiar to instead invade the planet Vulcan.”

Sterling continued to peruse through the records out loud.

“This apparently was a decade long struggle… involving these three Vulcan reformists… that eventually caught the attention of Starfleet and the curiosity of the Romulan Senate. Evidently, even Senator Pardek himself never knew about the remaining underground movement efforts that continued working for change within Romulan society and a select few on Vulcan; even after his failure.”

He then found a more recent memo and elaborated on the details found there.

“According to this excerpt from a message sent from the Vulcan Council to Starfleet Headquarters approximately two months ago… although the Vulcan Council begrudgingly permitted these representatives to participate in this diplomatic mission, they made it clearly known that they would accept no responsibly for the probable failed outcome of this ‘futile endeavor’.”

The Captain looked back up at the ship’s Counselor curiously and stated:

“So it would appear, Mister Pasqual, that you are in agreement with the Vulcan Council’s verdict on these representatives as well.”

The green-skinned man lifted both eyes to the ceiling.

''Just being... logical here, Captain Sir.''

But then, his gaze went back unblinking at Sterling.

''What is not logical at all however is for the Vulcan Council to agree to such a... futile endeavor as they would say. And for the proud, martial Romulans even less, even if logic is not their motive; but that does not mean that they are fools either...''

Marking a pause, he came forward with elbows on his knees to ask:

''Permission to speak freely, Sir?''

The Captain looked away from the terminal viewer for the moment and nodded his head affirmatively as he fixed his gaze on Pasqual. He then leaned back in his large comfortable chair and prepared himself for an interesting discussion.

"Absolutely, Counselor... Tell me what is on your mind."

Just before Pasqual could speak, the door opened. Frazetti Hartzer, First Officer, was three feet inside and speaking before she screeched to a stop.

"Excuse me, suh, but I was wonderin' if we- Oh."

Abruptly aware she was interrupting, and quite rudely, she ducked her head in an apology even as her face went a little pink.

Damn, damn, damn.... "Terrible sorry, Boss, I'll, uh, come back later," she said hastily. Fool girl! The one time you forget t' bloody well knock on da door...!!

This new First Officer was like a whirlwind of unstoppable energy… yet still seemed somewhat uncertain and awkward; in an almost adolescent manner.

He knew that he was going to need to figure out a way to harness and channel that perpetual motion into something constructive. This however may prove to be as challenging as the mission that awaits them.

He signaled to Hartzer as she was exiting almost as rapidly as she had entered and told her reassuringly:

“Commander… come on back and join us. Mister Pasqual and I were just having a discussion about our recently acquired delegation. As second in command, this conversation involves you as well.”

Sterling then stood up and gestured an invitation for her to take her place in the chair next to the Counselor.

Hartzer perked up almost immediately.

"Ah, indeed, thank yah suh. Mistuh Pasqual," she greeted, sitting next to him with grace and scooting her chair to a position where she could see the both of them clearly. Inwardly, she glowed a little.

As second in command...

She settled, adjusted her hat, moved a blonde tress from her face and leaned forward, regarding the two important members of the crew before her with those very blue eyes of hers. She resisted the urge to speak first, allowing Captain Sterling or Pasqual that honor.

The Captain sat behind his desk and inwardly she admired his poise. She had yet to master the art of sitting still, let alone looking like she was thinking deep thoughts, even when she was. Pasqual had worry in the back of his eyes, and she wondered if something had gone wrong already....

For a moment, Ray felt unsure of himself. He had just been granted freedom to talk outside of protocol and then the First Officer was invited in.

Usually, that meant that the "freedom of speech" was revoked since personal matters and opinions, especially those that could be deeply personal to one or the other, now were out of the question. But then, Captain Sterling, having no clue about what the counselor intended to say, seemed to be waiting for his unrestricted input still...

A high-stake gambler with a clean conscience... estimated Ray. That makes a him a very dangerous man.

The Orion counselor took the time Hartzer used to get setted in to compose thoughts and words and waited to see how the captain would lead what now turned from a private counseling report to a restricted meeting with command.

As the First Officer now settled in her seat across from him, Sterling could see the demeanor of the Counselor shift back into a more reserved mode.

He probably wanted to speak of this privately, but the three of them would eventually be addressing a multitude of issues throughout this mission together anyway. They might as well begin to break the ice now.

The captain then turned his attention back to the counselor and assured him:

“I’m sorry for the interruption Mister Pasqual… please continue”

So be it... here goes... the Orion officer silently told himself taking a breath before saying:

"Sir, we are about to engage in a secretive operation but with the most high profile ship after the USS Enterprise; and this ship being an old grandma with youth implants all over; we are about to ferret a group of Pacifists Vulcan ambassadors clueless about emotions and feelings to a sensitive rendezvous with nothing less than the Romulan Empire; and all this with the most incredible crew of misfits ever seen on the bridge of a Starfleet ship, from an unwanted cadet to a loose cannon of a counselor... and with a Romulan at the helm to boot."

Looking at both his senior officers with a very serious glower, he concluded:

"You have to wonder if somebody at Starfleet Command hasn't gone stark raving mad... Sir."

Sterling grinned slightly at Pasqual’s rather grim and pessimistic synopsis of the ship, crew, delegates and the mission; not that he could whole-heartedly disagree with the Counselor’s assessment.

He then looked at him and stated ironically.

“And to think, Mister Pasqual, with you being the ship’s counselor, I envisioned you as being the optimist of the bunch.” He noted with a hint of a smirk that danced surreptitiously across his face.

“Nevertheless, to allow this appraisal of our circumstances to be addressed judiciously, let us examine each of these issues one at a time, shall we?”

He then contemplated each of the points the counselor raised.

“Okay Mister Pasqual let us start with the ship.” the Captain began with a bit of hesitation. “To be blunt, there is no one aboard this ship who had more initial opposition to the choice of this vessel than me; as you witnessed by my rather undignified reaction to its unveiling in our meeting at Starbase 39 by Captain Walsh.”

The Captain then looked away from each of the officers in front of him and toward a box of personal items still securely packed and sitting in a container by the entrance to the room.
As he continued to glare at the box, he inhaled deeply and then went on.

“But afterward… I realized, Counselor, that my reaction was purely personal and emotional… and somewhat preconceived. I too assumed that this vessel was still some old relic from the past… being put back into action… well beyond her prime.”

He then placed his attention back onto the gentleman sitting before him.

“That perception held until I finally began examining the unprecedented extensiveness in which this ship was rebuilt and modernized. The First Officer and I arrived on to this ship by taking a workbee on an excursion around her entire exterior. It was most impressive. After arriving aboard I went on a brief informal tour of a few areas of this ship, including the bridge. I was seeing firsthand the level of craftsmanship put into maximizing all of her design elements to the fullest possible capacity within the interior as well.”

He looked around the room and gestured to the set-up within the Ready Room itself.

“This was obviously not a yank-out and swap-in hack job… but rather, a carefully planned and executed restoration that is representational of the artisanship meticulously employed throughout this vessel.”

She grinned at Pasqual. Be sure t' tell us wahtcha really think, she though dryly, and she couldn't help the grin that crossed her face as Captain Sterling voiced those same thoughts. She also agreed with him about the ship. It was one badass machine.

The captain then glanced at Commander Hartzer and added:

“The functionality of all of these systems are being currently tested by each team…and I can assure you, Counselor,” as he focused his attention back onto Pasqual “we will not be moving far beyond this Starbase without complete verification by each department that all of its primary, secondary and tertiary systems are within optimal ranges.”

He then looked back at his computer viewscreen and informed both officers before him:

“In regards to the delegates, let see what else we can find out.”