"Here he comes." Raisstha warned in an undertone, her fingers seeming to flicker as they danced across her panel. "You reckon they sped up to annoy us, or because they wanted to get rid of him?"
Then K’Teira could no longer see the Andorian, for the transporter activated and the shimmering blue light once again filled the room. With a strange delight undimmed by the number of transportations she had seen in here, K’Teira watched the area come alive with the sparkling beam, the illumination creating the impression of one huge transporter effect encompassing the room.
Just as suddenly it was one, having coalesced into a tall form in cranberry carrying a bag over one shoulder and a large holodiode in his left hand. He had materialized looking away from her, and she chose to ignore the fact that he turned for a second to flick something away from one dark cheek, though the information was filed away in her mind for future reference.
He stepped out of the surrounds of the horizontal silver arcs and smiled professionally at her.
"Welcome to the USS Fairburn, Commander." she said firmly, taking his proffered hand and echoing his smile back at him. "I’m Counsellor K’Teira, and over there is Chief Petty Officer Raisstha. I’m here to escort you to our Captain. However, it might be better if I took you to your quarters so you might leave your luggage there."
He nodded at the Chief, and said,
"To be honest, that would be great." A hint of relief oozed through his baritone voice. "This diode was a gift given to me just before I transported, but already it’s getting heavy."
"I can imagine. Those Mark Threes have a lot of alloy in them, but it’s the Mark Tens you really have to beware of. Shall we go, sir?"
"Yes, though…" He took a long look around himself. "…this transporter room is amazing! I see that the phase emitters are at a slightly different angle to the standard. Is that to make up for the lack of wall?"
The Chief looked up, suddenly interested.
"It is, sir." she replied in her curt way.
"May I come back later for a full inspection, Chief? I’m not familiar with this design, and I’d appreciate it if you could guide me through it."
"Certainly." The Andorian brightened at the thought, anticipation causing her to twitch her antennae.
"Thank-you." The smile fixed on her. "I’ll give you time to get ready. There’ll be nothing official about it, though, so you won’t have to worry about that."
"I’ll even see about a test transport for you, sir; transporting in here is nothing compared to seeing something beamed out. Just ask the Counsellor."
Grieg had a speculative look on his face when they left the transporter room.
"It must be a glorious sight." he sighed, letting a little of his guard down as they stepped out into the corridor, leaving Raisstha and her transporter behind. "These new transporter rooms finally understand the beauty of technology unchained."
K’Teira could almost feel the enthusiasm for the technology radiating off him, but the strange thing was, that was the only thing she could tell from his movements. Everything else was guarded and hidden; it was almost as though there was more than one layer to his emotions - the one everyone saw and the one he kept to himself. That, of course, was the way humans were, but it was usually this pronounced in trained telepaths. And as she knew that only Berry, Luna and Elek were the only telepaths aboard, it indicated that Grieg was either very disciplined, or was extremely good at internalizing his feelings.
It would be interesting to see what a telepath might be able to detect from this mind.
They were now headed into the better lit corridors of the main accessways, and so her train of though changed slightly. For those who had not spotted the species of their new Counsellor immediately, it was here that the realization hit home, for the ridges along her nose were no longer shadowed by the hood.
How is this… complex… person going to react when he sees those? It’ll be interesting to find out…
As before she was looking forward to it. Reaction told so much about a person.
It was after she’d agreed with him, and they’d reached the turbolift doors that she got her reaction. With her face in profile to him as they waited for the doors to open, it was nearly impossible for him not to see that the ridges continued above her nose.
As the car arrived, he curiously asked,
"You’re Klingon, aren’t you?"
"Yes, sir." There was no polite way of asking, Do you have a problem with that, sir? without being taken as though she was ready for a fight, so she followed her usual course and added nothing more, knowing that if there was a problem, she’d know about it soon enough.
"I didn’t know there was another Klingon in Starfleet." he added as they stepped into the lift. "I’ve heard of Worf, of course… Are you fully Klingon?"
She answered after giving the computer their destination.
"I am, sir. My mother and sister live on the Homeworld, actually."
"I’d guess that everyone asks you these questions when they first see you. I won’t bother you with them anymore."
That was unexpected, and caught her completely off guard. Scrabbling a little to regain composure - and hoping she didn’t sound as though she was begging for the admittedly tiresome inquisition - she said,
"Actually, I’ve found in the past that answering questions is the best way to stop wrong assumptions being made about me. I’m quite happy to feed curiosity."
His brow beetled into a frown, but then he laughed shortly, full of self-focused mirth.
"I’m sorry, Counsellor," he sighed, "but I can’t think of anything else I want to ask you about that right now! Really, that you’re a full Klingon is all I wanted to know!"
She couldn’t read his intent, and that made her more edgy than normal. He was so guarded in action now that telling anything of his thoughts was impossible save that he was indeed thinking, and that left her at somewhat of a loss. She wasn’t used to that, and she didn’t know whether there was a potential danger here or not, and she had to know. She disliked having to resort to ‘Counsellor’ type questions as an introductory means, but she couldn’t tell if he was accepting or was threatened by it.
"But what do you think about that?"
"You’re a counsellor who happens to be Klingon." he said, confused. "That’s all I need to know, isn’t it?"
Could it be…? Somewhere in her mind a voice began to sing. After so many rejections from supposedly open-minded Starfleet people, it was a surprise and a pleasure to have someone else repeating the words she herself had said so often! How long had she longed for someone else to say that? Maybe I’ve become so narrow in my thinking as I’ve thought them to be. I’ll have to watch out for that - it won’t happen again!
"If that’s all you want to know," Unbidden, her inner amusement reasserted itself, almost manifesting itself as a smile. Laughter coloured her tone, her words were light. "then it certainly is!"
A change of subject was required; something that wouldn’t hint at this…
The lift slowed and stopped. The doors opened, and K’Teira began to speak as they stepped out.
"There will be a reception to welcome you and the Captain aboard tonight, sir…"
Lightning fast, there came a spasm across his face; so fast, she mightn’t have seen it if she hadn’t been looking at him when it came. An interesting change there. It seemed almost as if the thought gave him pain…
Mid stream, she changed tacks.
"And while we are still in dock, we have been given full shoreleave permissions." She watched him now, and judged her next words carefully, weighing them . "Might I suggest that you visit the planet after the reception? A shore leave, no matter how short, can bring a new perspective on a mission."
Dark brown eyes fixed on her, studying her, his ebony face belying any trace of his thought. Finally he said softly,
"I will. Thanks, K’Teira." His facade of aloofness cracked, and abruptly he looked tired.
"You’re welcome, sir. These are your quarters."
A bright blue door with his name upon it stood just ahead of them. K’Teira keyed open the lock and moved as though to go in, but a pale palmed hand stopped her before she took another step.
"I’m sorry," he said apologetically. "but this won’t take a moment."
Many people had rituals before a room became truly theirs; why, her own quarters didn’t feel right until her father’s bat’leth was placed just so upon the wall. This in mind, she inclined her head.
"I understand. Take your time."The door closed behind him, and he allowed his shoulders to sag a little, letting his bag fall to the floor. The diode he cradled like a child until he reached a nearby table, where he reverentially placed it in pride position. Then he turned and wandered across to the high windows and stared out across space, seeing the dot that was the Portsmouth in its orbit around Earth, awaiting its turn in the maintenance satellites that littered the Earth’s surrounding space. No conscious thought came to mind as he silently watched, but he did feel. He felt empty, somehow, and almost lost. He missed them already. Yet he already was fond of the Fairburn and those of the crew he’d met - a Klingon counsellor, indeed! So he also felt torn…
What she’d said was right. He did need to distance himself from the two ships for a while. Perhaps a visit to his family?
He touched the cold plasglass and said a mental goodbye to the ship itself, feeling his bones ache with fatigue. He did need the rest…
Turning, his eyes fell upon the diode once more; before he knew it, he was sitting at the table, gazing into the diode’s depths as he activated it…
The bridge of the Portsmouth sprang into being before him, the tiny image of himself in the captain’s chair seeming to glare back at him as it slowly rose to its feet, reacting to whatever was on the viewscreen. Behind this figure stood Aslen at Tactical, bone white and shaking, but still doing her job. Around them were all of those familiar faces he’d just left. Maczendri at Ops, George at the Conn.…
Grieg didn’t need to look to know what was on the viewscreen; how well he remembered that day. The Romulan Warbirds were awe inspiring vehicles, designed to look as dreadful as they were.
How well he remembered.
A soft smile touched the real Grieg’s face as he realized the import of this representation of his first day in full command, and he felt better for the revelation.
I’ll remember that too, sir. Goodbye.
Then he turned off the image and hurried back out to the Counsellor.
The place K’Teira led him to was unexpected, to say the least. Grieg had been expecting to be escorted to the ready room, but had understood when she explained the Captain had just arrived herself and was exploring her own command. Yet he’d never expected he would be presenting himself to his new Commanding Officer in a treasure cave!
K’Teira stood at attention by the holodeck door after her forceful, "Commander Grieg, sir." Though she gave no outward sign that he could consciously identify, he was sure that somewhere deep inside herself the intriguing Klingon was laughing at the situation they had found themselves in.
Carefully the Commander picked his way past the piles of jewels to stand by a priceless jade statue. He could see the Captain, a tall woman with a look of wry but apologetic amusement on her face, standing just in front of an ancient stone pedestal. Something was on top of this, but in the dim light of the cavern, he couldn’t make out much detail.
"Commander James Aaron Grieg, reporting for duty, sir." he intoned as he came to attention.
"At ease, Commander." the Captain instructed, extending a hand to him. As he took it, she said, "It’s good to see you again. It’s a cliché I know, but I’ve heard a lot about you. Captain Stihlman was very happy with your work."
A surge of pride went through him at that, but he was careful not to let it show.
"He taught me all I know." he said respectfully.
The Captain realized K’Teira was still there, needlessly waiting for the meeting to end when she might have been doing something more constructive. So before she said anything further to her new Exec., she turned towards the Klingon with a,
"You can go, Counsellor."
With a nod of acknowledgement, K’Teira left through the still revealed doors, which seemed to become a pile of rubies the moment they closed behind her.
"You’re going to find I don’t run as strict a ship as Captain Stihlman," she explained, a half chuckle escaping her lips when she realized how self-evident that statement might appear in these surrounds. "You might think I’m not so strict on protocol either, given where we are."
"I had wondered, yes." The simple words didn’t start to scratch the surface of his puzzled curiosity, but did communicate a certain lightness. "It’s quite impressive, though."
"Magnificent, isn’t it?" she marvelled, looking around again with pleasure. "This is one of my son’s favourite stories, and if the Portsmouth hadn’t been early, I would have had time to inspect this and make it back to my ready room to greet you as I intended."
"I think it’s rather novel, sir." he said equitably. Mind you, on the inside he was still a little daunted by it - it wasn’t what he was expecting, after all.
His face hadn’t changed, the Captain noticed, but the touch of mirth in his tone kept her from classifying him as completely emotionless.
"Different, anyway." she agreed. "I don’t intend to keep you long - you have a new home to get used to as I do. I’ll want the crew to continue on the three shift rotations they’re on now, and I’ll need your report on the different sections’ schedules in the next two days. Until you find your bearings, I want you to co-ordinate with Lieutenant Commander Elek and Counsellor K’Teira. They’ve been handling your duties in your absence.
"I have a policy of being honest except when it isn’t in my best interests," she continued, looking him squarely in the eye. "And sometimes beyond that. As you can guess, that doesn’t make me the most diplomatic person you’ll ever meet, so that’s where I need you. Your record stood out from all the ones I reviewed, as I believe a Captain and her First should be a balance, each providing different things for the team." She paused. "You realise I’ve been away from active duty for twelve years?" she asked.
"Yes, sir." He didn’t add that he’d prepared himself to make allowances for that.
"Good; then I don’t have to go into that too much. I would appreciate a report on my performance at the end of this up-coming week, on things like how well I’m dealing with the crew and whether I’ve adapted to the new rule book Starfleet has. There have been a few changes made since I last shipped out, and I want to be sure I’ve mastered them."
She thought for a moment, mentally reviewing her words to ensure she wasn’t repeating herself. Almost unnoticed she counted the things she’d said off on her fingers.
"You may find our Security Chief, Lieutenant Daniels, quite lax when it comes to acknowledgement of rank." She snorted. "Amongst other things. He doesn’t appear to realise it yet, but the conditions of his assignment here are quite tough, and I expect him to abide by them or seek a transfer. You’re to see to it that he doesn’t drink alcohol of any sort while he is aboard the ship, and he isn’t to come back from shoreleave drunk, either. He can have synthehol, but only sparingly."
"I’ll co-ordinate that with Sickbay and the lounge host, then." he affirmed with a frown. "But if I may…?" She held out a hand in invitation. "…Respectfully, if he’s the type that needs supervision, why is he the Security Chief?"
"It’s not quite as bad as it sounds, Commander." she replied. "It’s just one of the conditions I had to put on him before they’d consider allowing him to transfer to this ship. There is a lot of potential in that man, and I’m not going to see him fritter it away. He needs discipline, certainly, but if you read his record fully, you’ll see that in amongst the bad are the marks of a fine officer. He gets bored easily, and tends to chafe under what he considers unfair decisions. These lead him to do stupid things, but given this responsibility, I think he’ll prove himself."
"I’ll do what I can." he affirmed. "When are we due to ship out?"
"According to the last communiqué I received from Headquarters, we’re to be out of McKinley by seventeen hundred tomorrow afternoon. But Admiral Grainger has told me that we aren’t to leave until Starfleet officially gives us the go-ahead. I don’t know why."
"Perhaps it’s so that they can send us off with all due pomp and circumstance." Grieg offered. "The Fairburn is the first Galaxy class launched since Wolf 359, so this is bound to be a big occasion for Starfleet."
"That’d be about right!" Randall said this quickly, almost too soft for the First Officer to hear, and she turned aside slightly, hoping he didn’t see her slight twist of lip. Then she added in a louder tone, "Whatever their reasoning is, it means that we have a good day before we’re due to leave, so shoreleave protocols may stay in effect until fifteen hundred tomorrow afternoon, with a prompt callback option to be given to make sure everyone’s back aboard quickly if we’re ordered to leave early."
"So the reception tonight isn’t compulsory?" That surprised him, as official functions aboard the Portsmouth had always required the presence of all senior staff, even when planetside.
Her eyes narrowed slyly, and her hands went to her hips. For a moment the image of authoritative Captain vanished as she teased,
"Do you have other plans, Mister Grieg?"
"No, sir." The momentary surprise left him and he was once again calm. "I just assumed it was compulsory."
"Well it’s not, but I would like at least a small audience for my address. And of course, you’ll have the opportunity of addressing the gathering as well…"
"I didn’t intend to, sir." he replied slowly, "I would prefer to work with them than talk at them. I’ll be talking at them enough over the next few years, so I’d prefer not to start our working relationship that way."
"An executive has that kind of luxury." she sighed. "Well, that’s about all I have for you right now, except to say that I don’t want you working today. You’ve just come in off your last assignment, and," She laughed shortly. "despite all that I’ve just said, I don’t need you burning yourself out. Work can wait until tomorrow for just this once."
"Yes sir. I assume there will be a meeting of the senior staff tomorrow?"
"At the beginning of alpha shift, tomorrow morning; which of course means that we’re going to have to cut into a little of our off time, so I doubt the reception will go too late. That’ll give us time to get the ball rolling, as well as allow us time to relax into our new roles."
"Are all of the senior staff here now?" he asked curiously.
"Only Eden Pendehar is still to come, but we won’t be meeting his connecting ship for a few more days…"
Eden Pendehar? The penny dropped. There couldn’t be two in Starfleet with that name…
He had gone through the records of his new shipmates, but he hadn’t found who was going to be CMO aboard as Starfleet Medical had delayed the decision - finding someone flexible enough to treat so many different races as the Fairburn boasted as well as having the administration skills needed to run a medical division of a Galaxy class had been a difficult task. Apparently he hadn’t seen the posting announcement, and so had missed the news his old friend was to be serving on the same ship as him. He felt a slow warmth spread up inside of him. What a coincidence! Perhaps praying to Shiva-or-whoever-it-was worked?
"…My husband is Sciences Administrator here, but don’t think he’s going to be able to get me onside any time you and he disagree." the Captain continued. "Your problems with him are your own; you work it out yourselves. I’ll only intervene if you’re disrupting the workings of the ship, but I want you to know that I’ll be going out of my way to keep all professional dealings with Ian fair to both of you."
Her words brought him back to reality.
"Thank-you, sir, but I’ve always believed in the scientific part of Starfleet’s charter, so I’m not anticipating much trouble there."
The Captain’s eyes shone at that.
"Don’t be too sure, Commander. He’s a good man, but if things aren’t going the way he wants them…" She considered her words, and made a slight face as she amended them. "Let’s just say I warned you. Don’t be afraid to do what you think is right - I won’t stand in your way.
"Well, that’s all I needed to say for now. Did you want to ask anything else?"
"No, sir." Anything else he needed to know was in his brief or in the reports, he knew, and he’d already taken up a lot of the Captain’s time. "Thank-you."
"That’s quite all right." She looked as though she didn’t really know how she should respond. "Welcome aboard, Commander, and I’ll see you at the reception."
Then she paused and said,
"By the way, which do you prefer, ‘James’ or ‘Jim’?"
"’James’, sir." he replied, swallowing his distaste for ‘Jim’ so well that she never saw it. "’Jim’ leaves me cold for some reason."
"Then ‘James’ it is." She nodded. "For the record, I actually prefer ‘Captain’ to ‘sir’, James, but I can live with it…" A smile. "For now.
"Well, I’ll see you later. Go and explore."
"Yes, Captain." he replied, quick as a flash, not showing anything of his actual amusement, then turned sharply and marched out of the room.Susan laughed after he’d gone, shaking her head. Not many officers can meet their new C.O.s in Aladdin’s Cave and take in so much information at once without reacting, but somehow he managed it! Such control! she mused. He’s a little stuffy, but not beyond redemption yet. I think I’ve made the right choice. I need another diplomat on staff - one not as controversial as K’Teira!
Still laughing, she looked around at the dimly glinting treasures as she said,
"Computer, continue demonstration of Aladdin’s Lamp program…"
The sound of outlaws in the distance echoed through the chamber, and Susan folded her arms, well pleased with everything.Aren’t we all one Fleet? The question bothered Brynna as she hobbled through the corridors to her quarters. That episode with Samantha had left her more than a little disturbed. Perhaps it was because she was tired, but she found the words rattling over and over in her mind, and she hated them. She had never suspected anyone, particularly from Starfleet, to be capable of such venom against someone simply because of race. Sure, she’d heard people say nasty things about the Cardassians and the Borg, but they were recent enemies. The Klingons had been allies for over twenty years, for goodness’ sake!
She’d never thought herself so naïve.
She was leaning up against a wall, trying to relieve her feet for a moment, when she heard the sound. Curious despite her current misgivings, she looked up to see a barrage of security personnel bearing down on her at a dead run. If she hadn’t been up against the wall in the first place, she would have been with a fearful squeak.
She watched them all go past, phaser rifles in hand. Then suddenly one of them was in front of her, glaring at her.
"Hey, what are you doing here? This corridor was ordered cleared!" Daniels glared at her, looking as though he didn’t know whether to berate her or laugh at her plight. "Brynna, isn’t it?"
"That’s right." she said, drawing herself to her full height - difficult with sore feet. "And I heard no order, sir. I guess you didn’t send it as far as Engineering."
"I did - but I’ll have to look into why you didn’t hear it, then. What are you doing here, anyway? Shift isn’t over for ages yet!"
"Rell let me go." she said, shame creeping into her tone as she thought of how the Chief was still down there and she was crawling back to her quarters for a good lie down before the reception. "He said…"
"Hmmm?" Daniels watched the last of his personnel disappear around the bend. From that look, she wondered how long it would be before they made their way around. "Hey, look, you’d better get off the deck." he continued, glancing in the opposite direction, confirming her suspicion. "How far have you got to go?"
"Ah, it’s just another crossway." she replied. pointing in the direction. He squinted, making a calculation, then suddenly she was over his shoulder.
"Hey!!!"
She rabbit punched him in the back. He nearly crumbled, but managed to keep upright.
"You aren’t gonna make it by the time the grunts come back around, and you know it. Believe me, you’ll thank me for this when you aren’t getting Sickbay to take the footprints out of your face. Or should I take you to there? You aren’t walking too well…?"
"You just wait until I get you, you…" she said ineffectually, but apart from crippling him and very likely ending up face first in the carpet, she knew it was safer to make threats.
He ignored them.
"What number, Ensign?" he asked mildly.
"It’s that one." she said flatly, pointing back over his shoulder to a door on the right. He headed for it.
Then he stopped.
"Shit!" he yelped, and threw himself against the wall, barely avoiding squashing her face-first into the panelling.
The security team charged past again.
"Alright!" he yelled at them. "Now head down to deck nine! I’ll meet you in the security office!"
They continued on past… then, craning over his shoulder, Brynna noticed the team was actually dodging something - something that was coming closer.
Then he moved and she could see nothing but wall.
"Lieutenant! Bloody be careful!" she shouted, warningly punching him in the shoulder.
"Stop that!" he replied, jostling her down off his shoulder to lean against the wall. "Wait there a sec, will you?"
"Too late, Daniels. I saw." Brynna recognized the Counsellor’s alto tones, and was suddenly reminded of what had happened. "Sweeping another ensign off her feet?" Then she turned to the Ensign herself and smiled. "Hello, Brynna."
"Ha, ha, very funny. What is it, Counsellor?" Daniels returned.
A pause. A sigh from the Counsellor.
"I was hoping you could do me a favour…"
Brynna listened in as they spoke, trying to understand what it was that Samantha might have seen in this woman to make her hate Klingons so vehemently. However, all she could see was that this woman had Klingon ridges. That was it. In every other way she was friendly, personable, warm… everything a good counsellor should be.
By the time she actually got into her quarters and flopped gratefully down on to the bed, she was convinced it was Samantha’s own problem, and only she could deal with it.
...Which was a great relief. It was hard enough thinking about sore feet.
However, it still made her wonder how anyone might still feel that way…
