The Chronicles of Aaen: Intolerance

The first officer looked at the scanner cadet. "How long till we reach Earth space dock?"

Aaen watched the scanner cadet enter the query into his computer, and then initiate the scan. The response came five seconds later.

"At present speed: five minutes." Helm, steady as she goes, Aaen grinned, leaning into his chair.

The sensor station flashed multiple times. The first officer turned to face right wing.

"Report, Aaen."

"Sir, we are approaching Starbase One. Recommend full stop."

The first officer turned to the captain. The captain nodded back. "Helm, full stop."

The order was executed as though with slight-of-hand. The rumble of the warp drive gradually calmed. The white streaks streaming across the main viewscreen became still dots in seconds as a gleaming tower of blue and white filled the upper-left-hand corner of the screen; beneath the gleaming tower, the upper-western hemisphere of Earth. The entire hemisphere was blanketed in the night. The bridge briefly gasped in awe at the sight.

Aaen faced forward.

"Captain, ship-wide oxygen levels are dropping rapidly. CO2 Scrubbers will go offline in two minutes! We either need to dock with Starbase One, or we need to start. . ." she coughed, "transporting those people to Starbase One, as soon as possible."

"Understood." said the first officer. "Short range, open a hailing frequency to Starbase One."

"Yes, sir. Hailing frequency opened."

A trio of mid-upper range beeps echoed briefly through the bridge in rapid succession. The same sound repeated two seconds later.

"Starbase One is responding, sir."

"This is Starbase One docking control. Identify, over."

"This is the captain of the Voyager. We finished our mission. We lost the Yorktown. The crew. . ." the captain looked at the first officer.

"Captain?" asked docking control.

"Can you please just talk to them?" the captain asked.

The first officer looked at the captain, surprised–and then nodded. "Docking control, this is the first officer. The majority of the convoy has arrived to drop off the people from the planet in solar system Golf-Tango-One-Seven-Four-Zero. The convoy is minus-one. The Yorktown. The Yorktown was struck by an asteroid." the air was starting to get thin, and getting thinner by the second. The bridge was filled with the sound of subtle gasps. "The Yorktown crew made their way off the ship in escape pods before the Yorktown's warp core breached. We have some of the planet's people on our ship and on the rest of the surviving convoy. We need to dock right now for repairs and to offload the people we rescued, or we're gonna suffocate. Hours are minutes. The Yorktown crew is going to need a rescue mission, as soon as possible."

"Understood, Voyager. You are clear to dock in Bay Bravo. Odyssey and convoy are clear for bays Charlie through Hotel. Opening bay doors, now. Good work, and welcome home."

"Voyager confirms. Short range, close channel. Relay those instructions to the Odyssey and the rest of the convoy. Helm, you're on manual. Begin docking procedures."

Both cadets acknowledged their orders in turn. Three lower-register beeps confirmed the comm-line closer.

"Maneuvering thrusters are back online, sir!" said damage control.

Aaen glanced to his right at the helm station. The cadet flying the ship anxiously rubbed his hands together before carrying out his orders. Starbase One gradually became larger on the main viewscreen. The twin doors lined with intermittently blinking navigational lights started to part. Despite the changes in the atmosphere, Aaen noticed the bridge crew was starting to relax–particularly a certain member of the command crew.

"Steady. . .steady." Aaen mumbled. Starbase One's shadow cast over the hull. Aaen watched as spotlights activated throughout the docking bay, directed at the hull. The main viewscreen darkened as the docking bay entrance engulfed the hulk.

The V-shaped docking bay was headed by a vertical cylindrical orifice uniting the Voyager's bay with the adjacent bays to starboard and port. Aaen looked at the scanner screen. The delta-shaped dot representing the Odyssey started moving from the four o'clock position to the two o'clock position on a forty-five degree parallel trajectory to the Voyager's and moving at almost twice as fast as the rest of the convoy. The convoy moved away at a greater angle.

Aaen recognized the Odyssey just visible to starboard on the main viewscreen. He grinned. Someday. . . Aaen thought about the center seat on her first of two decks. He watched as the moderately damaged Odyssey practically glided into position for the jet bridge to extend. You better not so much as scratch what's left of that hull, pilot! Aaen thought. Whew! Aaen silently gasped. Five seconds later, the jet bridge extended to the Odyssey's docking hatch and then vented a dense white mist into the docking bay. Much of her secondary hull was visible, as were some black spots and heavy dents. They must have had to proverbially shoulder some of the smaller asteroids away from the convoy while we pulverized the larger ones. Jeez, Aaen thought.

"Captain, docking control reports the Odyssey has docked. They are off-boarding." said short range.

"Very well."

"The transport ships have docked. All hands accounted for."

"Understood."

"In docking position in ten seconds, captain," Aaen said. The docking arm started to extend from the port side of the docking bay loading area.

"Okay."

"Reverse thrusters," Helm said. The deck plating subtly vibrated for five seconds. The docking bay gradually became still. "All stop."

"Helm, engines at station keeping. Engage docking clamps, mooring rings, and umbilical support systems."

"Good to be home, sir!" Tex said.

"Agreed!"

"Jet bridge extending," Helm said. A repetitive hiss-like alarm echoed through the bridge, gradually becoming louder until terminating. The hull briefly, mildly rattled. "Jet bridge successfully moored. Docking clamps engaging." THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD. The sound of metal gently clashing against the hull filled the bridge. "Mooring rings attached."

"Crew, we're home!" the first officer said. The bridge filled with cheers and clapping. "All rise! Duty uniforms on your chairs. Dismissed."

The captain stood up, stepped down from the command platform and started for the spiral staircase. The first officer was right behind him with a look of concern. The rest of the bridge crew followed. Aaen took a quick look of admiration around the bridge before following the rest of the bridge crew. Way to go, Voyager. Thanks for getting us back alive.

The crew lined up at the transporter where they had originally boarded the ship. Commodore Houston greeted the crew. She looked at the captain with dropped Ayebrows. "Welcome back, crew. That wasn't an easy mission, was it?"

"No. Not at all." Aaen replied.

"First Officer, how did everyone do?"

"It was rough, to say the least. But everyone did their jobs well, and we made it through and back. Aaen really came through for us when things went from bad to worse. We probably wouldn't be alive right now if it weren't for him."

Commodore Houston looked at Aaen. "You were the sensors officer, weren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Commodore Houston displayed a look of surprise, and then looked at the first officer. "You have a long report to file with the Admiral, I bet."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well, the people you rescued are being offloaded as we speak. They'll be given fresh clothes and food, and then they'll be relocated to a new home planet of their leaders' choosing, within Federation space. You all did a great job! You should be proud of yourselves for the good you did today. captain and first officer, Fleet Admiral Williamson wants to speak with both of you as soon as you both get back to Starbase." they acknowledged their orders in turn. "The rest of the crew is off-duty until further notice! Except, you, Aaen. Fleet Admiral Williamson will have new orders for you by the end of the day."

Aaen nodded.

The crew transported back to Starbase One in ten minutes. A short male with junior enlisted rank insignia gestured to his left. "Right this way, cadet."

Aaen nodded. The loading corridor was familiar. Aaen proceeded the mess hall. The mess hall was full of uniformed cadets and officers enjoying their choice of the daily lunch special. Aaen stood inside the mess hall entrance, examining the menu. Chicken Sandwich, Salad, or—no way! Serpent worms. . . He started feeling light headed. His stomach started grumbling.

He proceeded to collect a tray and then approached the food dispensary at the front of the room, inserting the tray into a rectangular port. "Chicken Sandwich." the port closed and then opened five seconds later. The tray contained a piece of food wrapped in a shiny, dark tan material, an orange eight-ounce beverage, and a modest desert and a disposable knife and fork. Aaen turned around, scanning the room for an empty seat. An entire table twenty feet away, in the center of the mess hall. Aaen took one of ten seats at the table. Odyssey, he thought, unwrapping the sandwich. Mmm. . . He grinned. A ten ounce grilled chicken sandwich complete with a light spreading of mayonnaise, shredded lettuce, and two slices of tomato on twin nine-grain buns. An eight-ounce dark chocolate brownie square was an excellent desert idea. He started eating as fast as he could. He ate the sandwich first. The chicken was so lean and tender. He downed the orange juice quickly. The brownie must have been fresh out of the oven and was full of chunks of dark chocolate. An odd flavor combination, but one Aaen opined he could deal with. Aaen silently relished the meal, and then looked at the clock. It was thirty minutes past the hour. Aaen started wondering what his next orders were going to be. He started thinking about recent events, recalling each cannon striking those asteroids one at a time in rapid succession, but that was nothing compared to the almost continual spreads of high-yield torpedo action. It was like the fourth of July, in space! He grinned. His grin got bigger with the realization that the people on the planet will continue living and flourish somewhere in Federation space, and the Odyssey survived the mission. Maybe I'll get my command of the Odyssey, finally! Then again, maybe they're going to reassign me to another fleet? Maybe I'll get my command, and then the Odyssey gets assigned to another fleet? The first officer's report would probably get me closer to my command. Who knows? Aaen gasped. It's just a waiting game, now. I wonder where the Galileo went? What're they doing right now?. . .

He checked the clock again. Fifteen minutes 'til the end of the hour. . . Aaen gasped. Lunch was settling comfortably enough. Aaen watched as a group of fifth-year cadets, males, and females, laughing as they walked to the exit with their trays. Aaen turned his attention back to his tray. Another brownie would be nice, he thought.

He stood up, took his tray to the exit, discarded the wrappings, and then walked out into the adjacent corridor. His favorite viewport was on deck sixteen. He took a turbo lift. Turning right, after a fifteen-foot walk, he leaned on his left shoulder against the viewport, looking at the Earth's northern hemisphere. "Wow." he muttered.

"Aaen!" A male voice called. Aaen looked to his right–the first officer was running down the far end of the corridor. "Sorry I missed you at lunch. I had to ask the computer to locate you."

"What's up?"

"Right now I and the majority of the rest of the crew are just waiting for our next orders. From what I've heard in passing, the people from that planet already have their new home world. The second fleet will be in charge of their escort and oversee their settlement of the planet by the end of the month."

Aaen nodded. "Good."

"Aaen, that was a heckuva job you did on that last mission. Why did they assign you to the sensors job?"

"I have no idea. I've been asking myself that question since before we all launched in the Voyager."

"Did they tell you where you're headed next?"

"Not yet. I'm hoping to command the ship I signed up for."

"Which ship?"

"The Odyssey."

"Why do you want that ship? She's not as fast or as powerful as the Voyager, or basically over half the ships in the rest of the fleet."

"True. But she makes up for it in other ways that I like. She's a ship that I've noticed has proven that in heated circumstances or situations, cannons and torpedoes aren't always the only option or the most effective one for that matter. In a heated situation, the Voyager just sits there, with limited rapid maneuvering capability. It's a floating punching bag. The Odyssey's capabilities, on the other hand, would give the Defiant-class a run for its money, outside of tactical functions."

"Well, I put in a good word for you with Fleet Admiral Williamson. Maybe that'll help."

"Thanks. I appreciate that. I'm just glad the mission was a success."

"There you are!" another male voice said from down the far corridor. Aaen looked around the first officer's right shoulder–the cadet assigned as tactical was approaching.

"That was a pretty intense mission, eh, guys?"

"Yeah, like skipping a rock on a pond and hoping it doesn't hit a mine along the way."

The trio grinned.

"Have you heard how the repairs are coming on the Voyager?" Aaen asked the third cadet.

"I checked before I came up: the Voyager'll be ready for launch within the hour. They've restocked the torpedo supply, and the cannons have been cycled."

"You sound like you're hoping to be assigned to the Voyager again," Aaen said.

The third cadet grinned. "She's a powerful ship. She made easy work of most of those asteroids in that last mission."

"Yeah, that's true!" the second cadet said. The trio laughed.

"So, Aaen, what ship are you going to next? Have they told you yet?"

"I don't know. They haven't told me yet. Did anyone ever hear what happened to the captain?"

"He's in sickbay, right now." the second cadet replied.

"Are they going to give him another command again?" Aaen asked.

"I doubt it."

"They should have made you the captain, Aaen." said the third cadet.

"Thanks. I'm not sure why they didn't make that call the first time around."

"Maybe they'll assign you as the captain on the next mission?" asked the third cadet.

"Are they keeping the crew together?" Aaen asked.

"I heard Fleet Admiral Williamson talking to an instructor in a corridor outside the mess hall. From what I heard on my way up here, something else has happened, and they're sending the Voyager. Just the Voyager."

"Did something happen to the new home world those people we rescued were going to settle on?"

"I didn't hear anything about their new home world. I heard something about a wormhole and another Federation ship called USSC Ranger. They sounded like whatever was going on was pretty serious."

"Maybe—" Aaen said.

"Did you guys hear anything about the Galileo? Anybody heard where they went, or what they're doing?"

"I haven't heard anything," Aaen said.

"Me neither."

"As soon as they launched from the Voyager, they warped away toward our starboard bow, ventral side. Wherever they're headed, it's nowhere the computer had on file." Aaen said.

"Spacefleet Command probably did that on purpose." said the first officer.

"What?" Adam said.

"Keep the Galileo's probable destination off the fleet's computer records," Aaen said. "We probably won't get filled in on any of its whereabouts or mission happenings unless we get assigned to that ship."

"Yeah, like that'll ever happen." the other cadets giggled. "Nobody even knows how the crews are selected, much less notified of their assignment." said the first officer.

"Well, never say never. You never know what might happen down the road." Aaen said. "Even then, you can bet the scrutiny is going to be impressive."

"Why? Has someone been talking to you about the Galileo? You getting ready to take up a permanent assignment?" the first officer asked.

"None that I've been told about," Aaen replied.

"I don't believe you," Adam said.

"Seriously!" Aaen grinned. "I've never put myself down for a permanent assignment on the Galileo. Whoever makes the crew decisions for that ship probably comes to you. Besides, even if someone were to get assigned to that ship, there's no way to know how long that assignment would last for."

"Aren't command positions usually permanent?" Adam asked.

"They're permanent until the ship is destroyed, or Spacefleet Command issues different orders if there is a pressing need for a temporary reassignment."

"What if–"

"Alpha class, report to the main briefing room, on the double." a voice said over the intercom.

"That's us," Aaen said. Aaen suddenly felt like the corridor had gotten really warm. The trio noticed multiple officers and cadets suddenly looking around them to see if they could find the subject of the page. Aaen donned a serious look as the trio started for the turbo lift.

The briefing room was twenty decks down. Aaen tapped the turbo lift's control panel. The doors swished open five seconds later. The trio entered the turbo lift.

"Briefing room." Aaen said. The Main Computer beeped acknowledgement. The doors closed. The turbo lift quickly accelerated to the destination. The anti-gravity and inertia dampeners made the ride seem motionless. Ten seconds later, the turbo lift subtly hissed as it came to a gradual stop. The doors opened to a five-foot-wide aptly lit corridor with angled blue overhead lights and dark blue carpeting. Stepping off, the trio proceeded straight for ten feet, turning right, up a ramp, straight for fifty feet, right, straight for eight feet to stop at another long corridor. To the trio's immediate left, a large cavity in the wall leading to twin large heavy doors whose label read 'BRIEFING ROOM.'

The rest of the class was forming a line on the adjacent wall to the large twin doors.

"Do you know what's goin' on?" the first officer asked.

Aaen turned his head. "No idea. They wouldn't be sending us out again this quickly unless it was important."

"Good point."

"Form a single-file line!" said Commodore Houston gestured from behind. The trio joined the back of the line.

Commodore Houston entered a command into the doors' control panel, and then led the line inside the room. The sound of chairs being pulled out from under tables echoed in the corridor as the last of the line entered the room. Aaen felt an air pressure wave against his face as he crossed the threshold into the dimly-lit room. Two ceiling-mounted lights beamed against a white board behind a large blue and white desk bearing the seal of the Federation. To the right, a five-by-five-foot screen with an image of a large wormhole facing a Miranda-class starship projected on it from overhead. Three tables lined with seats were in the center of the room. Aaen took the first seat on his right at the corner of the nearest table. He glanced at the main viewscreen with a determined look. This should be good. Aaen thought. He glanced to his right. Mr. Shelco sat at the back of the room, a new stack of pamphlets in hand. Aaen shifted his attention back to Commodore Houston.

Aaen looked to his left: an overhead projection of the seal of Star Fleet Command at the front-right of the room. Below the seal, a label reading, "MISSION BRIEFING - *CLASSIFIED*" Aaen took a seat near the entrance, leaned on his elbows pressed against the table in front of him. He coupled his hands and directed his attention at Commodore Houston.

"Class," she looked at the wall projection, " this is the USSC Ranger. It is a long-range exploration ship currently on the outer edge of Federation space. Approximately six hours ago, the Ranger detected the opening of a wormhole very similar to that near Deep Space Nine. It is possible that the wormhole they discovered may be just as stable as the one previously mentioned. However, we do not yet know where the wormhole leads to. What is more interesting, however, is the object that the Ranger reports as having drifted out of the wormhole. The Ranger has determined that the object is a ship of some kind. The ship's design and manufacturer, even its point of origin is unknown. The Ranger's most recent report says they were able to open a comm-line with the ship. There is only one occupant on board that we currently know of. The occupant has identified itself as Roul, pronounced like 'rule.' The other ship was not able to maintain power to it's comm-system, so we lost the signal. The Ranger is low on fuel, so they have asked for a replacement ship to rendezvous with it and took over the investigation. Class, your mission objective is to launch in the Voyager, rendezvous with the Ranger, get a situation update from them, and then take over the investigation." that's it? Aaen thought. Your instructor has your new pamphlets detailing your new bridge station assignments."

"Any questions?" the room was silent. Mr. Shelco passed the class' bridge station assignments out with haste. The groups were divided identically to the last mission.

Aaen glanced at his pamphlet. The Voyager again! . . Science? Aaen's Ayebrows dropped.

"Rise!" said Mr. Shelco.

The class lined up at the doors and then proceeded with boarding. The boarding process was identical to the first mission. Aaen was the tenth of twelve to be transported aboard. He received a fresh uniform and then proceeded up the spiral staircase. Fleet Admiral Williamson directed him to the far left side of the bridge. One computer monitor, again, with the already obvious purpose of reading a screen. Ugh! Aaen took his seat. Aaen's station training took less than two minutes, Aaen estimated. He looked at the command platform–the command structure was the same as before! Well, at least all we're doing is investigating, this time. Or are we?Aaen's seating assignment was on the opposite side of the bridge to the sensors station, right behind and to the left of security.

Training took less than ten minutes for the entire bridge. Aaen looked at the command platform: the command structure was the same as before. Well, at least it's just us, this time.

"Engine room to the bridge! Engine room to the bridge! You've got Tex, can you hear me up there, captain?"

"Yes, I can hear you." the captain replied.

"How'ya doin' today, sir?"

"Fine, I guess."

"You sound a little doubtful, sir. Is everything okay up there?"

"I'm fine."

"Well, alright then. captain, I don't know if you remember me. I was the chief engineer on the last mission when we went to rescue the people from that doomed planet?"

"Yeah, I remember you."

"Well, sir, it's a pleasure to be serving under your command a second time."

"Thanks. .I. .guess."

"Well, sir, we're all ready to launch down here, whenever you're ready."

"Um. Okay."

"Begin launch procedures!" said the first officer. "Switch to internal power. Retract boarding ramps. Disengage docking clamps and mooring rings."

"Aye, sir!" said the helm.

The sound of metal clashing and various brief alarms echoed through the ship.

"Short range comms, request permission to launch from docking control."

The order was carried out quickly.

"Permission to launch granted, sir!"

"Reading docking bay doors are opening!" Helm said.

"Aft thrusters at one-quarter." said the captain.

"After thrusters, Aye!"

"Take us out."

"View astern on the viewer, captain!" said the scanner cadet.

The hiss of the thrusters echoed through the bridge–Aaen noticed they were not as loud this time–as the docking bay doors started to part.

"Distance to docking bay doors: fifteen hundred meters. .one thousand meters. . ." the doors were one-quarter open. "Eight hundred meters. . .five hundred meters. . .two hundred meters. . ."

"This is gonna be close!" Aaen whispered.

"Clear!" Helm said. "View ahead on screen."

"Set course for the USSC Ranger. Standby warp drive!" said the first officer.

"Calculating course. . . Course set and laid in." Starbase One passed into the right side of the main viewscreen. The only visible objects were distant white dots.

"Warp. . .two." said the captain, giggling.

Aaen closed his Ayes and then briefly dropped his head.

"Sir, the Ranger's almost outta fuel. We should probably go to maximum warp to get there as soon as we possibly can." Tex said.

"Okay. Do it."

"I can't, sir. That's the helm's job."

"Helm! Do it!"

"Speed increase: warp nine. All hands: brace for warp speed. Warp drive engines have been activated."

Aaen watched as the rest of the bridge took the computer's suggestion, while he remained perfectly calm, relishing the same physical sensation of the warp drive engines powering up as he lightly glared at the main viewscreen with a small grin.

A thin, bold mechanical whine gradually grew to a fine roar as an explosion of swirling light lit the main viewscreen. The stars streaked into the corners of the screen, followed by a thundering boom. The stars then appeared as fine white streaks of light passing by. Aaen watched the helm's Ayes follow the speed meter. The ship stopped accelerating in five seconds.

The first officer looked at the scanner cadet. "How long until we reach the Ranger?"

"Scanning—we are five minutes from destination, sir."

The long range communication station flashed and beeped for three seconds. The cadet selected the newest message with a single command to the touch screen, then turned around in his seat to face the command platform. "Sir, incoming message from Fleet Admiral Williamson!"

He stood from his chair. "Bring me the message."

After a short series of commands into his computer, the document appeared in a small tray connected to the long range communication station. The first officer sat down at his station as the cadet fingered the document out of the tray, then rushed up a small staircase to the middle level where he handed the document to the first officer. The first officer took the document, examined it for five seconds, then–wide-Ayed–handed it to the captain.

"Follow me."

The crew froze in their place as the captain and first officer stepped off the command platform, turned left then walked to the captain's captain's ready room. The first officer stayed no more than two paces behind the captain. The doors to the captain's office opened with a soft hiss–but didn't close.

Aaen focused his attention on the duo. The dialogue was quiet but noticeable. Aaen glanced over his right shoulder, pretending to stretch his back. The captain rested the document on his desk, then leaned over the edge of his desk and propped himself up on both arms–turning his head repeatedly as a bead of moisture dropped from his chin onto his desk close to the document. The first officer's jaw started moving as though he were speaking. The captain looked up at him, still turning his head. He was obviously in shock. The first officer stood upright as if at attention, then spoke again. The captain dropped his head, and then stood upright, wiped his face with his sleeves, and then turned toward the bridge. Aaen shifted his attention to the tactical screen, watching through his right peripheral as the captain walked out of the office then turned left down another small staircase. The hiss of the double turbo lift doors told the bridge that the captain had left.

The doors to the captain's office stayed open for five more seconds as the first officer walked back to the command platform. The ready room doors closed behind him. He stepped up onto the command platform in front of his chair, turned left for one additional step, faced the front of the bridge then gasped, immediately gaining the crew's attention.

"I have just relieved the captain of his command. As of eighteen hundred hours, by order of Spacefleet Command, I am assuming command of the ship." he looked left. "Aaen, note the change of command in the log." Aaen nodded, and then immediately carried out the order. The first officer faced the center of the bridge. "Crew, at ease. Our current orders stand: we are going to rendezvous with the USSC Ranger."

Aaen observed the tactical screen, watching an icon representing the Voyager move along the ship's current flight path to its destination.

Aaen's screen flashed several times, then the screen displayed a grid with a small Federation logo in the lower-right-hand corner, slowly moving to the opposite corner. A long vertical gray bar on the right side of the screen displayed a long list of black Text.

"Aaen?" the first officer asked.

"The CO2 levels on all decks are starting to increase."

The first officer looked to the next forward row of stations. "Damage Control."

"The CO2 scrubbers just went down for some reason. We're on it, sir."

The first officer relaxed in the chair. His sleeves removed the moisture buildup on the captain chair armrests. After two deep breaths, he stood up, stepped off the command platform then approached the side of Aaen's station. Aaen looked up at him with little surprise. "Sir?"

"Follow me." he led him to the command platform and then gestured him to his assigned chair. Aaen sat down. "You're now the acting first officer, Aaen."

Aaen leaned forward. "What's going on?" the ship's Ambassador leaned into the conversation.

The first officer leaned toward Aaen. "Spacefleet Command has noticed the captain's job performance from our last mission. They weren't impressed. They've also noticed that Mister Shelco has been deliberately putting you in a bridge position that you weren't just not trained for, but that would have choked your career. They overrode his assignment decision for you for this mission. You can safely guess they're going to investigate your previous bridge station assignments."

"I figured as much," Aaen said.

"What was wrong with the captain?" the Ambassador asked. The first officer shrugged his shoulders. "Why, did you–?"

"–The captain told me he couldn't keep being the captain. He said command is too much for him."

"Then why did they assign him to be captain in the first place?" the Ambassador asked.

"It was a mistake. Whoever is supposed to be captain–whoever should have been the captain in the first place–is somewhere on this bridge."

"What about the Odyssey?" Aaen asked. "Is Command deploying them on this mission?"

"I don't know. The message didn't say anything about the Odyssey. They're probably getting ready for another assignment. It looks like we're on our own on this one."

The intercom whistle sounded on the bridge.

The sensors station flashed and beeped. The image on the main viewscreen changed.

"Bridge, you've got Tex! captain, you there?"

"Tex, this is the first officer. I've taken command of the ship. The captain's in his quarters."

"Alright. Well, sir, I thought I'd bring something to your attention. You looking at the main viewscreen right now?"

"Yeah?"

"Sir, we're passing the Mutara Nebula. We've got a ship in there if I'm not mistaken: the USSC Montgomery. It's a science ship, much larger and more advanced than the Ranger. The Montgomery's studying the nebula, sir. If we need 'em, we can call them for help."

"What for?" the first officer asked.

"It's space, sir. You never know!" Tex spoke cheerfully.

"Scanner, are you detecting the Montgomery in the nebula?"

The officer checked his sensor scan readings, then looked up at the command platform.

"Yes, sir!"

The image changed to show streaming stars passing by. The sensors station flashed. The neighboring officer leaned left to read the information on the screen.

"Now approaching destination! Full stop! We're gonna hit it!"

The bridge turned red with a spine-chilling alarm.

"Collision–Alert! Collision–Alert!" echoed the Main Computer.

"Full Stop!" the first officer yelled, panicked. Aaen watched him grip the armrests of the captain chair, then listened as the rest of the crew echoed the panic repeatedly while Adam carried out the order until the warp engines rumbled to a stop and the stars gradually became still.

A swirling blue and white wormhole appeared in the upper-left-hand corner of the screen. The 'object' just to the right, toward the center of the screen; to the right of the object, the USSC Ranger.

"We're drifting forward!" said the scanner cadet. "Distance nine hundred meters, eight hundred meters. . ." he turned to the command platform. "Recommend using reverse thrusters to avoid collision with the Ranger!"

Adam looked at the first officer. He nodded.

"Engaging reverse thrusters!" Adam said. The distant hum of the thrusters echoed through the bridge. Adam looked at the command platform five seconds later. "Confirmed. The ship has stopped."

"First Officer, we're holding position seven hundred and fifty meters behind the Ranger. They're 25 degrees off our starboard bow." said the scanner cadet.

*****

Steve Hale of Portland, OR told Jordan Foutin,

"You are the next Tom Clancy. You really are a gifted writer."

Make sure to check out StormTeam's official website, Like and Follow the official StormTeam Simulations Facebook page, @StormteamS, and @JordanFoutin for the latest!