Early 2409 …
Galatea entered the system a short distance from the ringed planet. Resting above the orbit of the icy rings was the focus for the Exeter-class ship and crew.
“Satellite in range of sensors, scanning now.” Omazei, the Trill Science Chief, reported dutifully as her fingers danced upon the console.
Kathryn touched her rank pips absentmindedly and spoke without looking away from the viewscreen. “Anthi, anything on tactical? Being this close to Klingon-space I’m not in the mood to take chances.”
The Andorian First Officer tapped on her console and after a few seconds replied, “Passive scans within the system are negative.”
Anthi’s brother, Thel Ythysi, spoke from the Engineering section of the bridge. “Captain, initial analysis of the satellite reveal it is fully functional within expected parameters.” His tone was slightly incredulous. From his unexpected report, the bridge crew became silent.
Kathryn leaned forward in her chair, visually inspecting the large machine in the void. Slowly rotating on its y-axis, it was a remote research satellite that hosted a myriad array of sensors dedicated to the planet. Several days ago, a request was made from Starfleet Corps of Engineers to investigate possible faulty bio-neural gel packs as telemetry was getting scrambled. USS Galatea answered the call. As innocuous as the situation should be, Kathryn started to feel uneasy about it.
The Captain turned to Omazei, whose face was highlighted by shifting colors from the console, waiting for additional confirmation. Only the dim hum from the ship’s engines could be heard over the next few seconds. She suddenly looked to Kathryn and shouted, “Vessel decloaking, port fifteen degrees!”
The viewscreen added a shimmer to the star field behind the satellite. As the ship coalesced, dread washed over Kathryn and someone unseen gasped. The Vor’cha-class battlecruiser drifted menacingly toward the Federation vessel.
“Open a hailing frequency,” Kathryn ordered. After a few seconds she added, “Klingon vessel, this is Captain Beringer of the USS Galatea on a routine maintenance mission to a Federation satellite. Are you here to assist?” Kathryn swallowed, the query felt stale in her mouth, but she couldn’t invite hostilities as the Klingon ship clearly outclassed her own vessel in many ways.
After a few moments, the Comm Officer acknowledged no response.
An alarm rang from Anthi’s console, starling everyone. “Weapons lock!”
Kathryn whispered a curse, then said, “Raise shields!”
Omazei followed, “Another contact, starboard one-three-five degrees.”
The viewscreen was replaced by a top-down tactical display where a second Vor’cha battlecruiser appeared behind and to the right of Galatea. The screen changed back to the windowed-display view. Green beams appeared from “behind” the camera and obliterated the satellite.
Kathryn spoke quickly. “Someone’s getting a bill; Helm get us out of here, dealer’s choice!”
At the controls, Ian McKinnon swiftly tugged on his gloves and deftly keyed in commands. Galatea banked to port and impulse engines revved louder. The Vor’cha to the front maneuvered to match the Starfleet ship’s vector and fired, disruptor beams belching from emitters until a few found their target. The small ship shuddered from the attack and Kathryn clutched the armrests to keep from being thrown to the floor.
With the klaxon blaring, Anthi roared, “shields at 42-percent, hull damage multiple decks!”
Kathryn noticed the helmsman furiously stabbing the console. Anthi called out, “Brace for impact!”
Multiple torpedo strikes rocked Galatea further, causing a console behind Kathryn to explode, showering her with sparks and small debris. She turned to her Chief Engineer. “Thel, how’s she holding?”
The bulky Andorian wiped sweat off his brow and shook his head, antennae stiff from worry. “We need to get out of here.”
Kathryn jumped to the helm station and forced calm into her voice. “Mr. McKinnon, toot sweet please.”
He pressed a key on the console and the stars on the viewscreen stretched as the ship limped into a Warp tunnel.
+++
Three Hours Later …
The Executive Team sat silently in the Ready-Room as they waited for Thel Ythysi to arrive. Each officer’s uniform was dirty to varying degrees, depending on how much work they performed in the nooks and crannies of the ship. Everyone looked tired as no one was above the paramount need to repair the ship.
The doors swished open and Thel walked in holding several PADDs, his own uniform tattered at the cuffs along with the ubiquitous smudges. Sitting down he handed everyone a PADD. “No need for a presentation, it’s all there and it’s obvious the situation is dire.”
Ian swiveled toward the Captain to get attention. “We are currently in the Arucanis Sector. Navigation is still out so it’s hard to get a precise reading. We’re safe from the Klingons but that’s not a guarantee. After three hours, if they really wanted a kill they could have tagged us.”
The Science Chief spoke up next. “Deflector control will need a few more hours at the least. The primary dish will likely need replacing.” Omazei tucked her short hair behind ears, revealing Trill patterns along her neck. “The damage to comms will take about four hours to fix. Until then, we can only send tight-beam subspace transmissions.” She crossed her arms as a sign she was finished.
Kathryn gazed upon the Chief of Operations, S’Rel. The Vulcan sensed eyes on her and looked away from the PADD. “Captain, considering the structural damage to the ship, I recommend reduced shift time for everyone aboard until we can reach a suitable Starbase to affect substantial repairs. I have prepared a roster rotation and will affix it to Thel’s report.”
“On that note”, Doctor Annika Kramer punctuated, “we have three dead and forty-seven wounded beyond first-aid; twelve being out-of-action. Other than the deceased, we can triage.” She pulled a hair tie, releasing her bright blond hair to fall onto her shoulders without further attention. “We are relatively lucky.”
By this point Kathryn was pinching the bridge of her nose while listening intently. A dull headache was in its second hour and she resolved to persevere without medication. “Anthi, let’s pretend the Klingon’s are on the hunt, what are your chances?”
The proud Andorean First Officer sat straighter. “Slim. Two-beam arrays and the rear torpedo launcher are destroyed. No offense to Galatea, but I don’t believe she could fight-to-win. The sooner we get to a space dock, the better.”
Thel leaned forward. “I agree. Current speed capabilities are Warp two-point-four. Don’t go that fast for more than an hour: the starboard pylon structural integrity is uncomfortably weak. At our current estimated position, it’ll take us two weeks to get to a suitable dry dock. The detail is in the report, of course.”
Kathryn sighed and nodded solemnly. She looked over the PADD briefly before placed her hands on the table as if to fix the ship with her force of will. “We will respect our dead when we reach port. Time is of the essence now. Galatea is beat-up, but not beaten down. As cheesey as that sounds, it’s true.“
She looked to each of the assemble crew. “Take an hour, if your teams do not need your immediate attention. Although this looks bad, I’m confident she’ll get us home.”
---
Cast for crew:
Kathryn Beringer - Katheryn Winnick
Anthi Ythysi - Monique Ganderton
Thel Ythysi - Kevin Sorbo
Ian McKinnon - Ben Browder
Omazei - Gemma Arterton
S'Rel - Morena Baccarin
Annika Kramer - Abbie Cornish
Showing posts with label USS Galatea. Show all posts
Showing posts with label USS Galatea. Show all posts
Thursday, March 29, 2018
Thursday, July 23, 2015
Saying Hello
Literary Challenge 21 - Saying Hello
---
The multicolored lights were bright while cacophonous music roared throughout the room. Several patrons from varying races were dancing on the floor in the center of the room. Those not dancing were either sitting at tables enjoying the view or drinking. Club 47 was where officers came to let off war-weary, stress-filled steam or to relax.
In an adjacent observation lounge, passive lighting created calming moods and thick doors subdued the high energy emanating from the dance floor as a stark juxtaposition. Only a few tables were occupied and Kathryn sat overlooking the cavernous interior of Earth Space Dock. The synthetic Kanar in her hand was a close substitute to the real thing. Taking a sip, she swirled the liquid around her tongue before swallowing it.
With a PADD in hand, she smiled at the words on the slate and could almost recite them from the screen. All of Kathryn’s senior staff and over 70% of the crew from Galatea would follow her to the next assignment floating inside Space Dock. That was atypical, yet somehow Kathryn had overcome the odds. She would have to thank Admiral Felczer for considering and fulfilling her request to transfer most, if not all, of Galatea’s crew. They were family and she wanted them to stay together as much as possible.
Looking up through the large wall-sized window, she could see several ships in various stages of docking or repair. The gigantic doors of the station were slowly closing as an Armitage-class ship cleared the threshold. Her eyes settled on one ship in particular. It was an older design, first introduced in the 22nd century and had sharp corners compared to the current design-style. The ship’s saucer-shaped primary hull was a hall-mark of the Federation and sported the longest nacelles of any starship (relative to the rest of the ship). Primarily used for diplomatic purposes within the past century, its numbers have dwindled due to attrition. But the one capturing Kathryn’s attention was the last of its class constructed in the 24th century.
“She’s beautiful, wouldn’t you agree?”
Startled from her reverie, Kathryn turned to the voice and looked up to a human male. He held a half-full glass of clear liquid as he stared out the window.
“Pardon me?”
The man wore Captain’s bars on his collar with red piping on the jacket. Casually pointing, he explained, “the Excelsior out there. It’s the only one of its kind birthed here and certainly special.”
Kathryn looked out the window and nodded. Regarding the Captain, he stroked a well-manicured moustache to the tip of his goatee, and was clearly focused on the ship. “Um, yes, I suppose so.” She waved to a chair and invited, “care to join me, Captain –“
“Ricol. Hassid Ricol.” He looked down and smiled. “You must be Kathryn Beringer.”
Surprised he knew her by name; Kathryn noticed he had not taken a seat. “I didn’t know I was famous.”
“You’re not, except to me.” Hassid’s smile disappeared. “Tell me, Captain, do you really think you’ve earned the right to Solaris?
Kathryn sat back into her chair, stunned. “Excuse me?”
Hassid rested his glass down on the table with more force than expected. “How long have you been wearing those rank bars anyway? Months, maybe a year or two?” Placing both hands on the table, he leaned in closer and hissed, “I was promised Solaris. I’ve earned the honor to be her Captain.”
Kathryn willfully paused for a few seconds as she absorbed the moment. Feeling pushed into a corner, she decided to push back. Standing, she grabbed the PADD off the table and became resolute against Hassid’s threatening posture. Placing a hand on a hip and shifting her weight to one leg, Kathryn smirked and raised the PADD. “Not according to this,” she parried.
The Captain straightened and rolled his tongue in his jaw as if to keep from saying something or to calm himself down.
Suddenly, another officer arrived and almost stood between Kathryn and Hassid. “Excuse the interruption, but I could tell the conversation was about to get exciting. Let’s have a seat to relax.”
The other Captains glared at the officer. Also wearing Captain pips on the collar, his jacket was filled by muscles on his chest and arms. A square jaw framed sharp facial features under a bald head. His toothy smile was soft, sultry and inviting.
Hassid scoffed, “Captain Daikar. Saving a damsel in distress again?”
Kathryn could feel her restraint waning. “Now look here-“.
“Captains, Daikar interrupted. He looked over his shoulders as if to remind the others they were not alone in the room and to lower voices. With a more calm tone, he asked, “should we keep this civil or take it outside?”
Kathryn ignored Daikar’s attempt to resolve the situation. “I shouldn’t have to remind you, Captain Ricol, that no one owns any ship. I earned my rank and that’s all. If you have a problem with my posting on Solaris, then the answer is simple: too bad.”
Eyes flashed with anger, Hassid lunged toward Kathryn. Daikar stepped up and used Hassid’s momentum to spin him away and toward another table. As he crashed into the furniture, the commotion captured attention from the other patrons in the room. Kathryn watched one officer tap his badge.
Pushing away a chair as he stood, Hassid wiped his short-cut hair. Breathing heavy, he pointed to Daikar. “You’ll pay for that.”
Daikar chuckled. “Bill me.”
Hassid huffed away from the pair and through the doors.
Turning to Kathryn, Daikar extended a hand. “I’m sorry you had to experience that.”
“It’s no bother, I’ve been through worse. Listen, you shouldn’t have done that, Security is sure to be on their way. What was his problem anyway?”
Daikar waved to dismiss the comments and smiled. “I can handle them. Ricol is a brute and a bully. He's has had it coming to him. For what it’s worth, he’s in it for the glory, not the duty.”
Kathryn nodded. “It seems you two have some history?”
“Yes. Would you want to hear about it?” He pulled a seat and began to sit.
Blushing a little, Kathryn acknowledged an urging to sit down. Pride caused Kathryn to resist the invitation; she could have handled Hassid Ricol herself. She looked around the room for an excuse to justify not staying any longer. Finding a holographic chronometer on the wall, she sighed with a little relief. Still, Daikar was surprisingly attractive and she questioned whether it was due to his gallantry or good looks.
“I … can’t, maybe another time.” Kathryn turned on her heels and started walking out the door.
“Wait! I didn’t get your name?”
Kathryn stopped and looked back. Again, she caught herself wanting to sit next to Daikar. “Kathryn Beringer. If you will excuse me Captain, I have a new ship to inspect.”
---
Cast:
Kathryn Beringer - Rachel Nichols
Daikar - Billy Zane
Hassid Ricol - Matt Nable
---
The multicolored lights were bright while cacophonous music roared throughout the room. Several patrons from varying races were dancing on the floor in the center of the room. Those not dancing were either sitting at tables enjoying the view or drinking. Club 47 was where officers came to let off war-weary, stress-filled steam or to relax.
In an adjacent observation lounge, passive lighting created calming moods and thick doors subdued the high energy emanating from the dance floor as a stark juxtaposition. Only a few tables were occupied and Kathryn sat overlooking the cavernous interior of Earth Space Dock. The synthetic Kanar in her hand was a close substitute to the real thing. Taking a sip, she swirled the liquid around her tongue before swallowing it.
With a PADD in hand, she smiled at the words on the slate and could almost recite them from the screen. All of Kathryn’s senior staff and over 70% of the crew from Galatea would follow her to the next assignment floating inside Space Dock. That was atypical, yet somehow Kathryn had overcome the odds. She would have to thank Admiral Felczer for considering and fulfilling her request to transfer most, if not all, of Galatea’s crew. They were family and she wanted them to stay together as much as possible.
Looking up through the large wall-sized window, she could see several ships in various stages of docking or repair. The gigantic doors of the station were slowly closing as an Armitage-class ship cleared the threshold. Her eyes settled on one ship in particular. It was an older design, first introduced in the 22nd century and had sharp corners compared to the current design-style. The ship’s saucer-shaped primary hull was a hall-mark of the Federation and sported the longest nacelles of any starship (relative to the rest of the ship). Primarily used for diplomatic purposes within the past century, its numbers have dwindled due to attrition. But the one capturing Kathryn’s attention was the last of its class constructed in the 24th century.
“She’s beautiful, wouldn’t you agree?”
Startled from her reverie, Kathryn turned to the voice and looked up to a human male. He held a half-full glass of clear liquid as he stared out the window.
“Pardon me?”
The man wore Captain’s bars on his collar with red piping on the jacket. Casually pointing, he explained, “the Excelsior out there. It’s the only one of its kind birthed here and certainly special.”
Kathryn looked out the window and nodded. Regarding the Captain, he stroked a well-manicured moustache to the tip of his goatee, and was clearly focused on the ship. “Um, yes, I suppose so.” She waved to a chair and invited, “care to join me, Captain –“
“Ricol. Hassid Ricol.” He looked down and smiled. “You must be Kathryn Beringer.”
Surprised he knew her by name; Kathryn noticed he had not taken a seat. “I didn’t know I was famous.”
“You’re not, except to me.” Hassid’s smile disappeared. “Tell me, Captain, do you really think you’ve earned the right to Solaris?
Kathryn sat back into her chair, stunned. “Excuse me?”
Hassid rested his glass down on the table with more force than expected. “How long have you been wearing those rank bars anyway? Months, maybe a year or two?” Placing both hands on the table, he leaned in closer and hissed, “I was promised Solaris. I’ve earned the honor to be her Captain.”
Kathryn willfully paused for a few seconds as she absorbed the moment. Feeling pushed into a corner, she decided to push back. Standing, she grabbed the PADD off the table and became resolute against Hassid’s threatening posture. Placing a hand on a hip and shifting her weight to one leg, Kathryn smirked and raised the PADD. “Not according to this,” she parried.
The Captain straightened and rolled his tongue in his jaw as if to keep from saying something or to calm himself down.
Suddenly, another officer arrived and almost stood between Kathryn and Hassid. “Excuse the interruption, but I could tell the conversation was about to get exciting. Let’s have a seat to relax.”
The other Captains glared at the officer. Also wearing Captain pips on the collar, his jacket was filled by muscles on his chest and arms. A square jaw framed sharp facial features under a bald head. His toothy smile was soft, sultry and inviting.
Hassid scoffed, “Captain Daikar. Saving a damsel in distress again?”
Kathryn could feel her restraint waning. “Now look here-“.
“Captains, Daikar interrupted. He looked over his shoulders as if to remind the others they were not alone in the room and to lower voices. With a more calm tone, he asked, “should we keep this civil or take it outside?”
Kathryn ignored Daikar’s attempt to resolve the situation. “I shouldn’t have to remind you, Captain Ricol, that no one owns any ship. I earned my rank and that’s all. If you have a problem with my posting on Solaris, then the answer is simple: too bad.”
Eyes flashed with anger, Hassid lunged toward Kathryn. Daikar stepped up and used Hassid’s momentum to spin him away and toward another table. As he crashed into the furniture, the commotion captured attention from the other patrons in the room. Kathryn watched one officer tap his badge.
Pushing away a chair as he stood, Hassid wiped his short-cut hair. Breathing heavy, he pointed to Daikar. “You’ll pay for that.”
Daikar chuckled. “Bill me.”
Hassid huffed away from the pair and through the doors.
Turning to Kathryn, Daikar extended a hand. “I’m sorry you had to experience that.”
“It’s no bother, I’ve been through worse. Listen, you shouldn’t have done that, Security is sure to be on their way. What was his problem anyway?”
Daikar waved to dismiss the comments and smiled. “I can handle them. Ricol is a brute and a bully. He's has had it coming to him. For what it’s worth, he’s in it for the glory, not the duty.”
Kathryn nodded. “It seems you two have some history?”
“Yes. Would you want to hear about it?” He pulled a seat and began to sit.
Blushing a little, Kathryn acknowledged an urging to sit down. Pride caused Kathryn to resist the invitation; she could have handled Hassid Ricol herself. She looked around the room for an excuse to justify not staying any longer. Finding a holographic chronometer on the wall, she sighed with a little relief. Still, Daikar was surprisingly attractive and she questioned whether it was due to his gallantry or good looks.
“I … can’t, maybe another time.” Kathryn turned on her heels and started walking out the door.
“Wait! I didn’t get your name?”
Kathryn stopped and looked back. Again, she caught herself wanting to sit next to Daikar. “Kathryn Beringer. If you will excuse me Captain, I have a new ship to inspect.”
---
Cast:
Kathryn Beringer - Rachel Nichols
Daikar - Billy Zane
Hassid Ricol - Matt Nable
Monday, July 13, 2015
Saying Goodbye
Literary Challenge 20 - Saying Goodbye
---
Work Bees flittered about the cruiser. Some were boosting away, with their manipulator arms carrying various bits of the ship. Others were slowly arriving to conduct assigned work on the hull. All of them had one goal: to dissemble the USS Galatea.
Kathryn looked out the viewport of the shuttle as another Bee flew past the window and met with two other Worker Bees shuttles. Her gloomy mood made sadder as she watched their laser cutters activate in succession and cut into the hull plating near the impulse engine assembly. She touched the rank pips on her collar absentmindedly and then pulled at the dress uniform jacket. Kathryn was filled with emotion, from concern for her crew to sadness at having to say goodbye to her first true command post.
Her shuttle had exited the main shuttle bay at a lazy 1.5 knots a few minutes ago. The pilot was gracious toward Kathryn’s wish to survey her ship for the last time. It was not uncommon for Captain’s to make such a request and was certainly not against Regulations. At the same time, Galatea’s slow destruction was also not the safest place for a transport shuttle. Work Bees and Pods tried to keep the space around the ship free from debris, yet flotsam and jetsam were inevitable.
After the battle, the ship literally hobbled back toward Federation space. Thel and the Engineering team toiled to keep the warp core together. It almost seemed like faith and prayer kept the ship from falling apart on the journey. The entire team would be officially commended for their actions. Kathryn would see to that. Omazei and the science crew would receive their fair share of accolades for navigating through contested territory safely. Anthi and the security teams worked to keep morale up along the two week trip. No one rested. Kathryn could not recall reading about any other crew to work so hard to save a ship like hers. She hoped against hope it would be repaired, yet the damage was too extensive. SFCE decided it was better to scrap the ship and use whatever was salvageable, than to resurrect it.
The shuttle had finished arcing around the bridge and was on a path toward the bottom half of the primary hull. From the looks of it, Galatea received damage evenly everywhere. The ship was surrounded and no matter where she moved, disruptor beams found a target. Every defense pattern was used in the book to get away. The planet’s ring served them well to deflect more attacks. After more cat-and-mouse with the four Vor'cha battlecruisers, the helmsman pointed the Federation cruiser perpendicular to the rings and punched full impulse speed to egress the game. Two seconds later they hit warp speed to exit the system. Why the Klingons decided not to follow the debris trail for the kill surprised Kathryn at the time.
Kathryn watched as the deflector dish’s vibrant blue emission faded to grey. Lights within the ship darkened. The shuttle was heading away from the docking cage and she saw the Warp Core slowly pulled from the hull. Her eyes filled with enough water to blur vision, but not enough to slide down her cheeks. She sniffed a little which caught the pilot’s attention. They looked at each other for a few seconds. The pilot gave a sympathetic smile, and then turned to face forward. Kathryn internally thanked him for not adding to the somber moment.
There was just enough window space left to see the port nacelle detach from the pylon before the shuttle’s path was focused toward Space Dock. She put a finger to one eye to catch the tear. Flicking the water away, she looked up as if to pour more tears back into her head and sighed heavily. Looking down, she opened her left hand to look at the only memento of Galatea: a piece of carpet from the hallway to the main shuttlebay.
---
Cast:
Kathryn Beringer - Katheryn Winnick
Mentioned but not seen:
Anthi Ythysi - Monique Ganderton
Thel Ythysi - Kevin Sorbo
Omazei - Gemma Arterton
Shuttle Pilot: Random male extra
---
Work Bees flittered about the cruiser. Some were boosting away, with their manipulator arms carrying various bits of the ship. Others were slowly arriving to conduct assigned work on the hull. All of them had one goal: to dissemble the USS Galatea.
Kathryn looked out the viewport of the shuttle as another Bee flew past the window and met with two other Worker Bees shuttles. Her gloomy mood made sadder as she watched their laser cutters activate in succession and cut into the hull plating near the impulse engine assembly. She touched the rank pips on her collar absentmindedly and then pulled at the dress uniform jacket. Kathryn was filled with emotion, from concern for her crew to sadness at having to say goodbye to her first true command post.
Her shuttle had exited the main shuttle bay at a lazy 1.5 knots a few minutes ago. The pilot was gracious toward Kathryn’s wish to survey her ship for the last time. It was not uncommon for Captain’s to make such a request and was certainly not against Regulations. At the same time, Galatea’s slow destruction was also not the safest place for a transport shuttle. Work Bees and Pods tried to keep the space around the ship free from debris, yet flotsam and jetsam were inevitable.
After the battle, the ship literally hobbled back toward Federation space. Thel and the Engineering team toiled to keep the warp core together. It almost seemed like faith and prayer kept the ship from falling apart on the journey. The entire team would be officially commended for their actions. Kathryn would see to that. Omazei and the science crew would receive their fair share of accolades for navigating through contested territory safely. Anthi and the security teams worked to keep morale up along the two week trip. No one rested. Kathryn could not recall reading about any other crew to work so hard to save a ship like hers. She hoped against hope it would be repaired, yet the damage was too extensive. SFCE decided it was better to scrap the ship and use whatever was salvageable, than to resurrect it.
The shuttle had finished arcing around the bridge and was on a path toward the bottom half of the primary hull. From the looks of it, Galatea received damage evenly everywhere. The ship was surrounded and no matter where she moved, disruptor beams found a target. Every defense pattern was used in the book to get away. The planet’s ring served them well to deflect more attacks. After more cat-and-mouse with the four Vor'cha battlecruisers, the helmsman pointed the Federation cruiser perpendicular to the rings and punched full impulse speed to egress the game. Two seconds later they hit warp speed to exit the system. Why the Klingons decided not to follow the debris trail for the kill surprised Kathryn at the time.
Kathryn watched as the deflector dish’s vibrant blue emission faded to grey. Lights within the ship darkened. The shuttle was heading away from the docking cage and she saw the Warp Core slowly pulled from the hull. Her eyes filled with enough water to blur vision, but not enough to slide down her cheeks. She sniffed a little which caught the pilot’s attention. They looked at each other for a few seconds. The pilot gave a sympathetic smile, and then turned to face forward. Kathryn internally thanked him for not adding to the somber moment.
There was just enough window space left to see the port nacelle detach from the pylon before the shuttle’s path was focused toward Space Dock. She put a finger to one eye to catch the tear. Flicking the water away, she looked up as if to pour more tears back into her head and sighed heavily. Looking down, she opened her left hand to look at the only memento of Galatea: a piece of carpet from the hallway to the main shuttlebay.
---
Cast:
Kathryn Beringer - Katheryn Winnick
Mentioned but not seen:
Anthi Ythysi - Monique Ganderton
Thel Ythysi - Kevin Sorbo
Omazei - Gemma Arterton
Shuttle Pilot: Random male extra
Monday, December 2, 2013
The Long Road
Stardate 88546.72 - Earth Space Dock
The doors hiss open to reveal a small dimly-lit room where the lighting is reserved for the long table at the other end of the room. On a table are several small boxes, all are sealed but the contents are well-known.
I know what must be done ... and I don't want to do it. The condolences were already sent from my ready-room shortly after it all happened. That was standard procedure, but this part of the process is being altered at my request. Of the four hundred crew the Galatea started with, only 373 returned. From the missing, five received the venerable Federation Star Cluster posthumously. I guess, after six months, that is within the margin of acceptable loss.
One step forward.
'Acceptable Loss' runs counter to the idea of the preciousness of life. As a member of Starfleet, one assumes a certain level of risk. In the face of war, the risk goes up. Starfleet Academy is not low on recruits. That must be a good thing. The Academy works very hard to train for every contingency, to teach as much as possible for extreme proficiency and to model the discipline required for space-travel. And yet ... sometimes it's just not enough ...
One step forward.
My dress-uniform coat rests just above the knees. The dark-grey of the tunic is contrasted with white-colored piping. The shoulder pads reveal the deep blue of the Sciences department. My long scarlet hair is rolled into a bun, typical for human females of my rank. And it is my rank that allowed me to request a change in protocol. I was glad it was approved because the Galatea was my first true command. I earned the privilege to be her Captain. I earned the right to lead the crew and to make tough decisions. I thought it was a tough decision to perform this part of my duty in this way, when really it was a poor one. Admiral Quinn, in his wisdom, must have known what it would do to me and decided it would be a good lesson. One they do not teach you in the Academy.
One step forward.
It was the longest mission for Galatea: assist colonization efforts with the Paradans. We were returning home for rest and resupply when we were ambushed by Klingons. I ... we ... had no chance. Twenty-two lost in as many minutes, five more lost trying to save the ship ... the crew. Those five will get these awards resting on the table. I asked to personally deliver them to their families out of a sense of duty ... honor ... and ...
Guilt.
One step forward.
And that's the lesson: I can not assume their sacrifice is mine to own. Starfleet will take care of the families - all twenty-seven. I did my part by drafting personalized letters to them. What I'm doing now is not needed. But I felt I needed to do it.
One step forward.
Now I realize I really don't need to be here. I shouldn't be here because I'm going to lose more along the way. That's the assumption of risk everyone in Starfleet accepts.
One step forward.
I pick up a box. This one belongs to Rhonda Kealing. I remember her: always laughing and always playing practical jokes with the Engineering crew. Thel couldn't appreciate all the humor, but I let it ride nonetheless because she did boost morale. I could tell she was missed when I was in Engineering to help with repairs after the battle.
The other boxes are soon stacked in my hands and I turn toward the door. Only six steps away ... but they will be the first on the long road ahead of me.
The doors hiss open to reveal a small dimly-lit room where the lighting is reserved for the long table at the other end of the room. On a table are several small boxes, all are sealed but the contents are well-known.
I know what must be done ... and I don't want to do it. The condolences were already sent from my ready-room shortly after it all happened. That was standard procedure, but this part of the process is being altered at my request. Of the four hundred crew the Galatea started with, only 373 returned. From the missing, five received the venerable Federation Star Cluster posthumously. I guess, after six months, that is within the margin of acceptable loss.
One step forward.
'Acceptable Loss' runs counter to the idea of the preciousness of life. As a member of Starfleet, one assumes a certain level of risk. In the face of war, the risk goes up. Starfleet Academy is not low on recruits. That must be a good thing. The Academy works very hard to train for every contingency, to teach as much as possible for extreme proficiency and to model the discipline required for space-travel. And yet ... sometimes it's just not enough ...
One step forward.
My dress-uniform coat rests just above the knees. The dark-grey of the tunic is contrasted with white-colored piping. The shoulder pads reveal the deep blue of the Sciences department. My long scarlet hair is rolled into a bun, typical for human females of my rank. And it is my rank that allowed me to request a change in protocol. I was glad it was approved because the Galatea was my first true command. I earned the privilege to be her Captain. I earned the right to lead the crew and to make tough decisions. I thought it was a tough decision to perform this part of my duty in this way, when really it was a poor one. Admiral Quinn, in his wisdom, must have known what it would do to me and decided it would be a good lesson. One they do not teach you in the Academy.
One step forward.
It was the longest mission for Galatea: assist colonization efforts with the Paradans. We were returning home for rest and resupply when we were ambushed by Klingons. I ... we ... had no chance. Twenty-two lost in as many minutes, five more lost trying to save the ship ... the crew. Those five will get these awards resting on the table. I asked to personally deliver them to their families out of a sense of duty ... honor ... and ...
Guilt.
One step forward.
And that's the lesson: I can not assume their sacrifice is mine to own. Starfleet will take care of the families - all twenty-seven. I did my part by drafting personalized letters to them. What I'm doing now is not needed. But I felt I needed to do it.
One step forward.
Now I realize I really don't need to be here. I shouldn't be here because I'm going to lose more along the way. That's the assumption of risk everyone in Starfleet accepts.
One step forward.
I pick up a box. This one belongs to Rhonda Kealing. I remember her: always laughing and always playing practical jokes with the Engineering crew. Thel couldn't appreciate all the humor, but I let it ride nonetheless because she did boost morale. I could tell she was missed when I was in Engineering to help with repairs after the battle.
The other boxes are soon stacked in my hands and I turn toward the door. Only six steps away ... but they will be the first on the long road ahead of me.
Taking Command
Literary Challenge 2 - Taking Command
---
"Permission to speak freely, Captain?"
Kathryn nodded and said, "In this office, always, but I appreciate the request."
Karl Malango smiled softly and he forced his body to relax, his arms falling to the sides and his head lowering to look directly to his superior officer. "That's splitting hairs and you know it."
The Captain never looked away from Karl while standing slowly. At six feet tall, Kathryn used her stature as an advantage when she needed to - and this was one of these moments. Inside she chided herself on being slightly dramatic, but she wanted Karl on her side. This meeting was due to the tension mounting since her arrival on board Galatea three weeks ago.
"Allow me to speak freely as well." She leaned forward and placed her hands onto the desk. Her grey eyes were now level to Karl's . "I have worked with Anthi ever since the Academy. From my position that makes her the absolute best candidate to serve as my First Officer. Captain Diranti's assessment of you was not ignored, regardless what you may think, and that is why you are my Security Chief. Let me say it again: that also makes you my Ground Operations Senior Officer."
She raised a hand to silence Karl's next words and then walked around her desk. "Change can be challenging, but that is a constant in the universe and on this ship it is inevitable."
A few moments passed as Kathryn waited for a rebuttal. Karl was visibly frustrated. "I have at least five more years of direct experience on this ship and I know the crew better than ... "
Kathryn grinned as Karl stopped abruptly. She waited a few tense seconds. "Me?"
Karl looked down to his feet ashamed at his transparency. Kathryn nodded and walked past him to stop abruptly at the gold-plated model of her first ship, a Miranda-class, the Sixth Wave.
"Karl, those are strengths that are needed," she turned back to him and noticed he was facing her. "Let me be very candid. My trust in you is implied by virtue of your experience."
At the mention of trust, Karl seemed to stand a little straighter. "What is your trust in Anthi then?" Kathryn could not tell if his frustration increased further or if she were breaking down barriers.
"Earned. If that's splitting hairs then call me a barber." She spread her arms out briefly to show surrender to Karl's point of view, yet a verbal trump card was available she didn't want to use yet.
Karl nodded and looked down in thought. Kathryn sat on the couch under the model to try to give the scene a relax the moment. "If it means anything, I met Philip Diranti before his passing. He was an amazing Captain. As you know, his actions in 2400 with the Klingons are mentioned at the Academy and that's not small talk. The fact you are mentioned in his closing dossier is impressive. I hope you can appreciate that I'm not a woman of words, but of action."
She stood and walked to Karl who remained silent. "I trust you because Diranti trusted you, but I need to trust you because I do. Do you understand my point of view?"
Again, he nodded. His silence bothered Kathryn but she couldn't force him to talk. She decided enough was said. "So, to be clear, this is not about favorites."
"I understand, Captain." He straightened up and Kathryn perceived the conversation was no longer off the record.
"Good. Thank you for your dedication and service. Galatea will be coming to Dalnus IV within the hour. I want Security Team recommendations and equipment checks completed. This is a recon-in-force. And just so you know ... I prefer pistols."
---
Cast:
Kathryn Beringer - Rachel Nichols
Karl Melango - Jeremy Renner
Mentioned but not seen:
Anthi Ythysi - Katheryn Winnick
---
"Permission to speak freely, Captain?"
Kathryn nodded and said, "In this office, always, but I appreciate the request."
Karl Malango smiled softly and he forced his body to relax, his arms falling to the sides and his head lowering to look directly to his superior officer. "That's splitting hairs and you know it."
The Captain never looked away from Karl while standing slowly. At six feet tall, Kathryn used her stature as an advantage when she needed to - and this was one of these moments. Inside she chided herself on being slightly dramatic, but she wanted Karl on her side. This meeting was due to the tension mounting since her arrival on board Galatea three weeks ago.
"Allow me to speak freely as well." She leaned forward and placed her hands onto the desk. Her grey eyes were now level to Karl's . "I have worked with Anthi ever since the Academy. From my position that makes her the absolute best candidate to serve as my First Officer. Captain Diranti's assessment of you was not ignored, regardless what you may think, and that is why you are my Security Chief. Let me say it again: that also makes you my Ground Operations Senior Officer."
She raised a hand to silence Karl's next words and then walked around her desk. "Change can be challenging, but that is a constant in the universe and on this ship it is inevitable."
A few moments passed as Kathryn waited for a rebuttal. Karl was visibly frustrated. "I have at least five more years of direct experience on this ship and I know the crew better than ... "
Kathryn grinned as Karl stopped abruptly. She waited a few tense seconds. "Me?"
Karl looked down to his feet ashamed at his transparency. Kathryn nodded and walked past him to stop abruptly at the gold-plated model of her first ship, a Miranda-class, the Sixth Wave.
"Karl, those are strengths that are needed," she turned back to him and noticed he was facing her. "Let me be very candid. My trust in you is implied by virtue of your experience."
At the mention of trust, Karl seemed to stand a little straighter. "What is your trust in Anthi then?" Kathryn could not tell if his frustration increased further or if she were breaking down barriers.
"Earned. If that's splitting hairs then call me a barber." She spread her arms out briefly to show surrender to Karl's point of view, yet a verbal trump card was available she didn't want to use yet.
Karl nodded and looked down in thought. Kathryn sat on the couch under the model to try to give the scene a relax the moment. "If it means anything, I met Philip Diranti before his passing. He was an amazing Captain. As you know, his actions in 2400 with the Klingons are mentioned at the Academy and that's not small talk. The fact you are mentioned in his closing dossier is impressive. I hope you can appreciate that I'm not a woman of words, but of action."
She stood and walked to Karl who remained silent. "I trust you because Diranti trusted you, but I need to trust you because I do. Do you understand my point of view?"
Again, he nodded. His silence bothered Kathryn but she couldn't force him to talk. She decided enough was said. "So, to be clear, this is not about favorites."
"I understand, Captain." He straightened up and Kathryn perceived the conversation was no longer off the record.
"Good. Thank you for your dedication and service. Galatea will be coming to Dalnus IV within the hour. I want Security Team recommendations and equipment checks completed. This is a recon-in-force. And just so you know ... I prefer pistols."
---
Cast:
Kathryn Beringer - Rachel Nichols
Karl Melango - Jeremy Renner
Mentioned but not seen:
Anthi Ythysi - Katheryn Winnick
Prized Possesions
Literary Challenge 1 - Prized Possessions
---
The two officers entered the room and the doors closed silently behind them. The Captain of the ship motioned to a seat in front of her desk and the other quietly moved from the doorway. She watched as the man sat down and then absentmindedly sat in the other chair in front of her desk. The Deltan watched her and smirked slightly.
“So, this is the Solaris,” the man said to break the silence. “She is a fine ship indeed.”
Kathryn Beringer looked away and forced herself to watch the fish swimming in the fish tank. “Yes, he is. Speaking of which, I want to thank you again for your handling Captain Ricol in Club 47. I know it’s been several weeks since that incident but you really didn’t have to do that. I can take care of myself.”
Captain Daikar raised an eyebrow when Kathryn used the male gender to refer to the starship. “Well, like I said then, Ricol is a brute and a bully. It was not his place to accuse you of stealing this ship because no one owns any ship in the fleet. You were assigned to Solaris and it was that simple. Besides, if I had not interfered, I doubt I would be sitting here right now.”
Kathryn blushed slightly. “Indeed. Well I felt the need to offer my thanks again.” She looked from the fish tank back to Daikar. His bald head framed the hard features of his face. Ocean-blue eyes were stern yet inviting and his cheeks seemed to pull his full lips into a perpetually congenial smile. The strong jawline finalized a commanding presence his muscular frame exuded. Kathryn struggled slightly against Daikar’s charm. She turned toward the bar in the back of the room and realized she was not sitting behind her desk and rushed to say something to continue conversation. “May I offer you a drink?”
For his part, Daikar was patient. “Yes, actually. I’d like an Earth Scotch if possible.”
Kathryn stood and walked to the replicator. She enjoyed Scotch as well and replicated the drinks. Turning, she was surprised to see Daikar had walked to the other side of the room and was inspecting something against the wall. She recognized the item of his curiosity and met him. Daikar accepted the drink, took a sip then pointed to the object encased in glass.
“What is that?”
After a sip, Kathryn licked her lips and nodded. “It’s a piece of carpet from the floor to the aft shuttle bay of Galatea, an Exeter class and my previous command.”
Daikar raised his eye bows and took another sip to hide his surprise. “That must have an interesting story.”
Kathryn shrugged imperceptibly, turned and walked toward the edge of her desk. Leaning on it, she raised the cup to her lips and spoke without drinking. “The Galatea was shot apart by Klingons.” Daikar looked over his shoulder to her as if asking for more detail. After a slight pause, she continued with a far-away glance as she recalled the entire moment. “Nothing exciting: we were pinched between two Vor'cha looking for easy prey and got battered on the run. After limping back to ESD, Quinn personally handed me the scrapyard papers.” She took a gulp from her cup and looked into the fluid that remained. “I loved that ship with a passion.”
Daikar looked back at the token and nodded. “That’s a shame.” He sipped from his cup. “So how did this end up as a souvenir?” He walked back to his chair as Kathryn spoke.
“I was the last crew member off Galatea and by the time I reached the door to the shuttle bay I realized I had nothing but memories … I had to take something from the ship, something I could hold. So I cut that chunk out, walked into the shuttle and waited on Space Dock for a new command.” She spread her arms out as if to show off the entire ship and smiled.
Daikar returned the smile, stood and raised his glass to toast. “Well then, here’s to our ships, may they carry us across the galaxy and back safely.”
---
Cast:
Kathryn Beringer - Katheryn Winnick
Daikar - Billy Zane
Mentioned but not seen:
Hassid Ricol - Matt Nable
---
The two officers entered the room and the doors closed silently behind them. The Captain of the ship motioned to a seat in front of her desk and the other quietly moved from the doorway. She watched as the man sat down and then absentmindedly sat in the other chair in front of her desk. The Deltan watched her and smirked slightly.
“So, this is the Solaris,” the man said to break the silence. “She is a fine ship indeed.”
Kathryn Beringer looked away and forced herself to watch the fish swimming in the fish tank. “Yes, he is. Speaking of which, I want to thank you again for your handling Captain Ricol in Club 47. I know it’s been several weeks since that incident but you really didn’t have to do that. I can take care of myself.”
Captain Daikar raised an eyebrow when Kathryn used the male gender to refer to the starship. “Well, like I said then, Ricol is a brute and a bully. It was not his place to accuse you of stealing this ship because no one owns any ship in the fleet. You were assigned to Solaris and it was that simple. Besides, if I had not interfered, I doubt I would be sitting here right now.”
Kathryn blushed slightly. “Indeed. Well I felt the need to offer my thanks again.” She looked from the fish tank back to Daikar. His bald head framed the hard features of his face. Ocean-blue eyes were stern yet inviting and his cheeks seemed to pull his full lips into a perpetually congenial smile. The strong jawline finalized a commanding presence his muscular frame exuded. Kathryn struggled slightly against Daikar’s charm. She turned toward the bar in the back of the room and realized she was not sitting behind her desk and rushed to say something to continue conversation. “May I offer you a drink?”
For his part, Daikar was patient. “Yes, actually. I’d like an Earth Scotch if possible.”
Kathryn stood and walked to the replicator. She enjoyed Scotch as well and replicated the drinks. Turning, she was surprised to see Daikar had walked to the other side of the room and was inspecting something against the wall. She recognized the item of his curiosity and met him. Daikar accepted the drink, took a sip then pointed to the object encased in glass.
“What is that?”
After a sip, Kathryn licked her lips and nodded. “It’s a piece of carpet from the floor to the aft shuttle bay of Galatea, an Exeter class and my previous command.”
Daikar raised his eye bows and took another sip to hide his surprise. “That must have an interesting story.”
Kathryn shrugged imperceptibly, turned and walked toward the edge of her desk. Leaning on it, she raised the cup to her lips and spoke without drinking. “The Galatea was shot apart by Klingons.” Daikar looked over his shoulder to her as if asking for more detail. After a slight pause, she continued with a far-away glance as she recalled the entire moment. “Nothing exciting: we were pinched between two Vor'cha looking for easy prey and got battered on the run. After limping back to ESD, Quinn personally handed me the scrapyard papers.” She took a gulp from her cup and looked into the fluid that remained. “I loved that ship with a passion.”
Daikar looked back at the token and nodded. “That’s a shame.” He sipped from his cup. “So how did this end up as a souvenir?” He walked back to his chair as Kathryn spoke.
“I was the last crew member off Galatea and by the time I reached the door to the shuttle bay I realized I had nothing but memories … I had to take something from the ship, something I could hold. So I cut that chunk out, walked into the shuttle and waited on Space Dock for a new command.” She spread her arms out as if to show off the entire ship and smiled.
Daikar returned the smile, stood and raised his glass to toast. “Well then, here’s to our ships, may they carry us across the galaxy and back safely.”
---
Cast:
Kathryn Beringer - Katheryn Winnick
Daikar - Billy Zane
Mentioned but not seen:
Hassid Ricol - Matt Nable
Haunting of Deck 13
Literary Challenge 36 - Haunting of Deck 13
---
Captains's Log - Stardate 90606.63
I've received reports since the Solaris launched of various events occurring on Deck 13, from missing items found days later in odd or bizarre places, to - quite simply - ghost sightings. As all the reports have been benign in nature, I dismissed them as exactly what they were - benign.
I'm not a superstitious person or Captain, but some of the details in the reports would raise eyebrows. Some of the non-resolved reports look like they will never find closure. On a hunch, I decided to do some research:
The Solaris is a new ship and I have been graced with being his first commander. As a side note, that may explain the altercation I experienced with Captain Ricol in Club 47 when I had to surrender the blasted hulk of my beloved Galatea. Regardless, sifting through the construction documentation, I chanced upon several accident reports.
These are not unusual by themselves: starships are built in space and the number of reports was well within expected parameters for a ship this size. But if there is any anomaly it is that the majority of them occurred on Deck 13. And it gets more interesting if one were to go the distance: 13 accident reports were filed within 13 days, 1 per day, all happening on Deck 13. No other deck experienced this coincidence. If I were superstitious then I would wipe the sweat from my brow learning there were no fatalities building Solaris.
Luck?
Maybe.
But that would make me superstitious.
(sighs)
I have yet to experience any shenanigans on Deck 13 but that doesn't mean anything. I gave this ship a shake-down as soon as I could so now it's time I had a walk-about.
+++
Deck 13 was slowly being evacuated. Kathryn ordered personnel to leave the deck when she met them in person and catalogued their name on her PADD she strapped around her torso. Each was told not to tell anyone else where they were going and if asked, then to fabricate some excuse that would sound like they were staying on Deck 13.
The subterfuge was necessary because Kathryn was on the hunt for something on Deck 13. Her walk-about was fruitful in other ways: getting to “see” her ship in more detail and meeting more crew face-to-face for other than disciplinary or congenial reasons. This event gave her the idea to walk around the ship more often. But she’ll plan that later … she actually saw the “ghost” for a split second and was determined to catch it … so to speak.
By now, Kathryn had bumped into twenty-three crew and six civilians. Deck 13's hallways had perceptibly less traffic since she started the hunt. She stopped at an intersection and slowly looked around the corner. I don’t believe in ghosts, she whispered for the hundredth time she realized. Was she trying to convince herself?
But there it was: a humanoid figure, almost completely transparent except for a very faint distortion at the edges of itself. The apparition stood still … was it looking at her? One arm raised and seemed to be … scratching its head? Kathryn's eyebrow raised in that ever so Vulcan way she had seen so often. Its head seemed to turn to one side and Kathryn quickly ducked from view, hoping not to have been caught, if possible.
Seconds ticked away and Kathryn realized she was holding her breath. The “ghost” turned the corner and bumped into Kathryn and she staggered in confusion. Looking around she barely noticed the apparition move past and down the hallway her back was facing.
“Stop!” It was all Kathryn could think to say, but the form kept moving and she strained to see her ghost.
She took off her PADD and threw it like a Frisbee toward the ground at the ghost's feet, the strap flailing. The ghost was tangled and quickly fell to the ground. Kathryn's mind was whirling at what she was looking at: her PADD was dancing near the ground with a blurry blob moving around and within the straps. As Kathryn got closer the transparent blob stopped moving until a face appeared from within its form, startling Kathryn.
“Lieutenant Retarius?!”
The face blushed and sighed. “Captain. I can explain- “
Kathryn crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one leg, angry and waiting.
“Oh, right now, yes … you see, on my downtime I've been working on a side project, this stealth suit. I actually finished it several weeks ago while we were aboard the Galatea.” Margaret Retarius pulled back the invisible cowl and her head looked as if disembodied and floating by magic. She was disentangling her feet as she spoke. Kathryn just watched.
“Um … so I was just … uh-”
“Having some fun,” Kathryn interrupted.
Margaret stood and handed the damaged PADD back to the Captain. “Yes, sir.”
Accepting the PADD and looking it over, Kathryn said, “Does anyone else know about this suit?”
“No, sir.”
Kathryn stood looking at Retarius' worried face for several seconds as she mulled her options, then settled on one. “Lieutenant, meet me in my ready room in one hour and bring all data on this project with you. But first, hide your … head … and sneak back to your room. Solaris’ ghost ends here, do you understand?”
“Yes, Captain.”
With that, Margaret's head slowly disappeared. Kathryn turned on her heels toward the turbolift with a grin on her face.
I knew I didn’t believe in ghosts.
---
Cast:
Kathryn Beringer - Rachel Nichols
---
Captains's Log - Stardate 90606.63
I've received reports since the Solaris launched of various events occurring on Deck 13, from missing items found days later in odd or bizarre places, to - quite simply - ghost sightings. As all the reports have been benign in nature, I dismissed them as exactly what they were - benign.
I'm not a superstitious person or Captain, but some of the details in the reports would raise eyebrows. Some of the non-resolved reports look like they will never find closure. On a hunch, I decided to do some research:
The Solaris is a new ship and I have been graced with being his first commander. As a side note, that may explain the altercation I experienced with Captain Ricol in Club 47 when I had to surrender the blasted hulk of my beloved Galatea. Regardless, sifting through the construction documentation, I chanced upon several accident reports.
These are not unusual by themselves: starships are built in space and the number of reports was well within expected parameters for a ship this size. But if there is any anomaly it is that the majority of them occurred on Deck 13. And it gets more interesting if one were to go the distance: 13 accident reports were filed within 13 days, 1 per day, all happening on Deck 13. No other deck experienced this coincidence. If I were superstitious then I would wipe the sweat from my brow learning there were no fatalities building Solaris.
Luck?
Maybe.
But that would make me superstitious.
(sighs)
I have yet to experience any shenanigans on Deck 13 but that doesn't mean anything. I gave this ship a shake-down as soon as I could so now it's time I had a walk-about.
+++
Deck 13 was slowly being evacuated. Kathryn ordered personnel to leave the deck when she met them in person and catalogued their name on her PADD she strapped around her torso. Each was told not to tell anyone else where they were going and if asked, then to fabricate some excuse that would sound like they were staying on Deck 13.
The subterfuge was necessary because Kathryn was on the hunt for something on Deck 13. Her walk-about was fruitful in other ways: getting to “see” her ship in more detail and meeting more crew face-to-face for other than disciplinary or congenial reasons. This event gave her the idea to walk around the ship more often. But she’ll plan that later … she actually saw the “ghost” for a split second and was determined to catch it … so to speak.
By now, Kathryn had bumped into twenty-three crew and six civilians. Deck 13's hallways had perceptibly less traffic since she started the hunt. She stopped at an intersection and slowly looked around the corner. I don’t believe in ghosts, she whispered for the hundredth time she realized. Was she trying to convince herself?
But there it was: a humanoid figure, almost completely transparent except for a very faint distortion at the edges of itself. The apparition stood still … was it looking at her? One arm raised and seemed to be … scratching its head? Kathryn's eyebrow raised in that ever so Vulcan way she had seen so often. Its head seemed to turn to one side and Kathryn quickly ducked from view, hoping not to have been caught, if possible.
Seconds ticked away and Kathryn realized she was holding her breath. The “ghost” turned the corner and bumped into Kathryn and she staggered in confusion. Looking around she barely noticed the apparition move past and down the hallway her back was facing.
“Stop!” It was all Kathryn could think to say, but the form kept moving and she strained to see her ghost.
She took off her PADD and threw it like a Frisbee toward the ground at the ghost's feet, the strap flailing. The ghost was tangled and quickly fell to the ground. Kathryn's mind was whirling at what she was looking at: her PADD was dancing near the ground with a blurry blob moving around and within the straps. As Kathryn got closer the transparent blob stopped moving until a face appeared from within its form, startling Kathryn.
“Lieutenant Retarius?!”
The face blushed and sighed. “Captain. I can explain- “
Kathryn crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one leg, angry and waiting.
“Oh, right now, yes … you see, on my downtime I've been working on a side project, this stealth suit. I actually finished it several weeks ago while we were aboard the Galatea.” Margaret Retarius pulled back the invisible cowl and her head looked as if disembodied and floating by magic. She was disentangling her feet as she spoke. Kathryn just watched.
“Um … so I was just … uh-”
“Having some fun,” Kathryn interrupted.
Margaret stood and handed the damaged PADD back to the Captain. “Yes, sir.”
Accepting the PADD and looking it over, Kathryn said, “Does anyone else know about this suit?”
“No, sir.”
Kathryn stood looking at Retarius' worried face for several seconds as she mulled her options, then settled on one. “Lieutenant, meet me in my ready room in one hour and bring all data on this project with you. But first, hide your … head … and sneak back to your room. Solaris’ ghost ends here, do you understand?”
“Yes, Captain.”
With that, Margaret's head slowly disappeared. Kathryn turned on her heels toward the turbolift with a grin on her face.
I knew I didn’t believe in ghosts.
---
Cast:
Kathryn Beringer - Rachel Nichols
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