Volunteering
Posted on Sat Mar 30th, 2024 @ 1:27am by Captain Rylan Gray & Lieutenant Commander Harrison Knox
2,851 words; about a 14 minute read
Mission:
Opening Moves
Location: Various
Timeline: MD0021 - 0900
[Torpedo Magazine and Manufacturing Area, Deck 9]
For three weeks now, Rylan Gray had been studying; it was, in point of fact, something at which he excelled having spent so much of his life as a student. And while he loved learning for its own sake, he also understood the necessity of knowing the ship and its systems. That fact had been hammered into his head both at Wolf 359 and then later, when the Ark Royal had been lost. And so, while he walked through the Tactical Department, his mind awash with facts and figures, a part of him was still back there, back in the escape pod watching the end of a significant period of his life die in the silence of space.
Daegan had been combing through the various systems from his office and the diagnostic on the torpedo manufacturing system was off enough to where it warranted attention, at least in his opinion. Having made his way up to deck 9, he had spent almost two hours in the guts of the system to remedy the situation and increase the system output. As he was wrapping up, nature called and he left the things as they were stepping away to take care of...other business.
In his wanderings, Rylan, who had noticed the spread of tools on the deck, stopped to investigate; the man had been working beneath a console and, as he stood up and turned, slammed into his commanding officer. As luck would have it, Rylan had been in the process of leaning forward and so, stepped into the hit and fell backwards.
Completing his turn, after the collision, Daegan's first reaction was irritation, " What the...". He stopped mid-sentence as he realized who he had sent to the floor, and rushed to help him to his feet. "My apologies Captain! Let me help you...". Thinking to himself, ~Great first impression...knock your Captain on his ass.~
"No worries," Rylan said as he accepted the help and rose quickly to his feet. He stepped back at once to give the man a bit of room. "If I'm keeping you from something, Lieutenant, please, do continue."
Glancing back to what remained to be straightened up. "Oh, wrapping things up. If everything works out we'll have shaved a few minutes on the manufacture and replenishment of our photon torpedoes."
"Excellent," Rylan said. "You have cleared this with the engineering team, I assume? Until handover, they have final authority on anything done to the ship. This being your first day aboard, you were intended to learn the new systems. Maybe lend a hand with the final checklists."
Daegan grimaced. "No I hadn't actually. But as I was familiarizing myself with the ship's tactical systems, I discovered that the original settings, while they were within specs, were only barely so. My second host actually helped refine many tactical systems for the Federation. Of course, it would still be some time before ship-based torpedo manufacture would be possible but the principles are still the same. In this case, it was easier to just fix it, than to get the Yard Master in a twist by insinuating the work his people were doing wasn't good enough."
Rylan sighed. "I can understand, even applaud, your initiative; however, you are going to have to go over the changes you've made with the Engineering team. They've yet to complete the final departmental inspections and what you've done will show up as an anomaly." He leaned against the edge of a console as he spoke. "She's not 'ours' yet, Lieutenant." He smiled slightly as he shook his head. "Something I have to remind myself about oh … every ten minutes or so. On the positive side, you'll find them surprisingly flexible if you give them a chance."
Nodding, "Understood Captain. I will report my findings and my... over zealous adjustments to the the yards engineers as soon as I get all this put away."
"Good," Rylan said. "I should probably let you finish." He moved away from the console, preparing to go, and paused as a thought struck him. "If you don't have other plans, how about you join Commander Knox and I for dinner tonight? My dining room at say 8:00 p.m.? We're cooking."
"Thank you Captain, I'd be honored."
"Excellent. Until later then," Rylan said. "Carry on."
[Later, In the Galley Attached to the Captain's Dining Room | Deck 2]
As was true of most professional kitchens, every surface was gleaming metal, easily cleaned and highly durable, with industrial-sized appliances and a fully stocked pantry. They had divided the workload with Possum handling the main course and Rylan, the appetizer, salad and dessert. For his part, he had done a lobster risotto for the appetizer and a Caesar salad. He hummed under his breath as he worked as was often true when he worked in the kitchen and he was pleased with the company. Having been forced into vocal training at school, he had a decent voice -- not that he'd admit to any such thing if pressed.
Knox looked over at what Rylan had been making and was feeling a bit out performed. "Well damn," he said giving his Commanding Officer an elbow jab to the ribs. "I didn't know we were rolling out the red carpet," added Knox.
The First Officer had checked his several pans and pot. He had been working on pasta with a smoked sausage and Cajun Alfredo sauce. "Hope he likes something with a little kick and some je ne sais quoi."
"Guess we'll find out," Rylan said as he plated the Risotto and the Caesar Salad. He surveyed the plates and turned toward Possum. "Too fancy?"
Daegan found his way to the galley for the Captain's mess he had been invited to earlier. Before he walked in he did one last check of his uniform smoothing it out and pulling a bit of fuzz off his sleeve. Satisfied with his appearance he entered. "Evening Captain, Commander."
Rylan, who had been loading a tray, looked up in surprise. "Evening, Lieutenant. I was just coming out with the first course. Lobster Risotto. Hope that appeals?"
"Not to worry Captain. As Commander Knox discovered yesterday, I'm a bit of a foodie so that will not be a problem at all. Need help with anything?"
"If you could take these out to the table, I'll just add the Parmesan Frico to the salad and I'll be done with my part." He turned toward Possum and arched a brow. "How much longer do you need?" While he waited for an answer, Rylan removed the crisps from the cooling rack and transferred them, one by one, to the plated Caesar salad.
For a Betazoid you are constantly rushing thought Knox though he didn't utter a word.
Rylan smirked. It wasn't something he advertised about himself. He allowed people the misinformation that passed as truth about half-breeds like himself because it served him. The truth was that he had some telepathic abilities though nowhere near as strong as a full Betazoid.
Nodding Daegan took the tray, and moving to the table and distributed the various items before returning the tray to the galley.
The plated salads were ready to go out when Daegan returned to the kitchen. Rylan accepted the tray and left it on the table for later, should Possum need it, and gestured toward the Dining Room. "I think we're done here, Lieutenant, so let's head into the Dining Room. What would you like to drink? I have a nice White Bordeaux or chilled water if you prefer?"
Following the Captain's lead, Daegan headed out towards the table, standing and placing his hand on the back of one of the chairs. "I'll take both. You know sir, one could really get used to this," he said smiling.
"Please, have a seat, "Rylan said as he busied himself filling glasses with ice-cold water and then, wine glasses with a really nice White Bordeaux. "You should," he said with a cheerful smile. "I've never understood the concept of 'fast food' myself. A meal should be enjoyed. Preferably with conversation and a good bottle of wine."
Taking a seat, Daegan looked at the food that had been prepared. "I couldn't agree more. Well if this becomes a regular event, one thing is certain; I will have to spend some extra time in the gym."
Knox was done with his part and brought over the rest before taking a seat himself. "A little hard works goes a long way."
Rylan smiled to himself as he took a forkful of the risotto. He had been eating this way since he first went to Thomas Battersea at the age of four years old; to him, this was just how one approached meals. The notion had appeal though; regular, shared meals. "Do you cook at all, Lieutenant?"
"When the situation calls for it, yes; but when it's just me, I tend to use the replicator...unless of course I can find someone to cook for me." Daegan lifted his glass with a smile.
Rylan lifted his wine glass in return as he answered, "I wouldn't count on me being that person every time," he said with a slight smile. "However, I do believe a reciprocal arrangement can be had. Perhaps you and another member of the senior staff can take a turn in the Galley once we're underway. Consider it a culinary adventure."
"That could definitely be an adventure, but I really like the idea," Daegan said. "Say, a monthly Captain's mess hosted, on a rotational basis, by the various department heads?"
"I rather like that," Rylan said. "Alright, and since it was your idea, your department will be first. I'll leave it to you and the Commander here to organize the schedule."
Wiping his mouth as he finished his last bite, Daegan said, "Me and my big mouth. That or we could go by order check in," he added jokingly with a laugh.
"Still puts you at the head of the list," Rylan answered promptly. "You're the first of the department heads to report in to me. Which reminds me. There are formalities to consider." He cleared his throat as he set his knife and fork on his plate. "Lieutenant Baas, I formally accept your transfer to the USS Thunderbird as Chief Tactical and Security Officer and grant you the rights and privileges that go with the position. Computer, acknowledge."
"Acknowledged. Lieutenant Daegan Baas is accepted as Chief Tactical and Security Officer, USS Thunderbird, as of this date," the computer, in a neutral, male voice answered.
He rose to his feet and picked up the emptied dishes, returning a moment later with plates of Caesar Salad topped with Parmesan Frico, and set one before each of the two men seated at the table. "After this we move to Commander Knox's portion of the meal."
Shrugging a bit, Daegan said, "well, looks like I will have to come up with something; and most likely for several more mouths."
"Potentially a second stomach," added Knox. He looked at Ry. "We haven't Lurians coming aboard?" teased the First Officer.
"Not among the senior staff, at least," Rylan said with a slight smile. "The ones that I've met had educated palates but an unfortunate tendency to consume large quantities of food. Our patrol route will take us along the Cardassian border on the edge of the demilitarized zone. How up-to-date are you on the situation with Cardassia Prime, Lieutenant?"
So much for light dinner conversation, Daegan thought. "Well sir, as to the situation on 'Cardassia Prime'; your guess is good as mine, Captain. But with the discovery of the wormhole, you can bet the Cardassians will do whatever they can to undermine the Federation. If they can find a way to force the Federation out of the Bajoran sector, either directly or indirectly, you can be sure they will try it."
Lieutenant Commander Harrison Knox cleared his throat. Daegan certainly was not wrong. "So much for the kumbaya that the Federation is pushing for," Knox interjected. "It's a couple years away, but I have some contacts in San Francisco and in Paris. They are actually trying to put together a proposal for a joint scientific mission between us, the Bajorans, and the Cardassians to construct some sort of communications relay or network to establish communication with the gamma quadrant."
"If the current Bajoran government survives," Daegan said, adding the dark prediction. "Even without the Cardassians, word is that Bajoran factions that had been united are now almost at each other's throats."
Knox shrugged his shoulders. "It's in the hands of the prophets now," he said with a bit of sarcasm. "It will be an uphill battle for Bajor and its people. They haven't been without the Cardassians running everything for a long while. Many of them don't even know what a Bajor without occupation is like."
Daegan's eyes dropped as memories of a previous host's visit to Bajor many years before the occupation came to mind. "Hmmm...that is the razor's edge we walk. Protect them and be their crutch all while allowing them to feel they are lifting themselves back towards what they once were."
"As we the Federation and Starfleet court their previous oppressors, the Cardassians," Knox was quick to add. "You don't get closer to a razor edge than that," noted Knox. "We are somehow expected to support Bajor and yet, form good relations with Cardassia."
"The scars on Bajor run deep," Rylan said quietly. As was his custom, he never held silverware in his hand unless he was actively eating. "Outside influence, however benign is looked upon with suspicion if not outright hostility and understandably so. And while they struggle to begin the process of rebuilding, there are those who are not yet ready to give up the fight. It is to those elements that we will direct our attention."
"Well with the fringe Bajoran factions, the issues along the current Cardassian border, the loss of ships in the Badlands...I'm sure there will be enough to keep us busy." Pausing slightly. "You know Sir, my last host was a negotiator and a few of those negotiations were with or involved the Cardassians. I could make a few inquiries, through some other diplomatic acquaintances...see if there are any rumbling or ambitious Guls were should be wary of?"
"A good idea," Rylan said. "Please, do so. We'll see how your back channels measure up to the briefings I'm to be given by Starfleet Intelligence. You know, Bajor might be happy about the Cardassians leaving but neither side is particularly satisfied. We have another year, I believe, until the treaty is officially signed. Until then, the situation is volatile and we must be cautious. If the cease-fire fails, the Federation could be drawn into war with Cardassia."
Daegan took a breath, nodding, as his head cocked slightly to the side. "Well, I will put a few feelers out. If I could take a shuttle, once I'm off duty tomorrow, I could officially take a short leave, one last breath of fresh air before heading out...that kind of thing. While unofficially contacting a few former colleagues. And if it comes to another conflict, the ship will be ready. I would suggest a few battles while en route to our patrol sector."
"I can approve a forty-eight hour leave," Rylan said, "but no more than that. You'll need to complete the training schedule for your department and check incoming weaponry and supplies. Be sure there's nothing missing. There will be some weapon certification tests to perform but those are a lower priority. Can you get all that done and still be away for forty-eight hours?"
With a wave Daegan dismissed the concern. "I won't even need 24 hours, Sir. I can take a shuttle to Earth, so the transmission doesn't come from a Federation starship or facility, see some sights to justify the leave and be back before anyone knows I'm gone. If anyone asks why departing so soon after my arrival, I will just say I was recalled."
"I don't think there will be a need to justify you spending some time on Earth. We are days away from departure," Rylan said. "I rather doubt that it will look all that suspicious." He turned toward his Executive Officer. "Now, how about you serve the main course while I clear the dishes."
Daegan hoped he was right but some of his old contacts weren't exactly allies of the Federation and if his previous host had learned anything, it was that a little paranoia could be a good thing. At any rate, he had a green light and would get what information he could. In the mean time, he rubbed his hands together in anticipation of the dish to be served.
Knox nodded. "I hope you both still have room," he added with a smile. "It has a bit of a kick".
em>je ne sais quoi: something (such as an appealing quality) that cannot be adequately described or expressed
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