Remembering

Posted on Sun Nov 19th, 2023 @ 1:52pm by Captain Peter Nixon & Lieutenant Irril Sharvo

1,588 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: S1E0 - Prologue
Location: Officer's Mess, Deck 2
Timeline: 03:30 Hours - Mission Day -4

The Officer's Mess was lit only by the large bank of replicators along the back wall and some recessed directional lighting and it had a sole occupant, the ships recently appointed Commanding Officer. Peter Nixon stood in front of the starboard bulkhead, large stainless steel black coffee in his left hand, raised into a relaxed position in line with his belly button.

When the starship was commissioned, the bulkhead was unadorned. But over the course of the War, it had become something of a memorial. The ships name and registry number had been printed onto it, and over the years of the war it had slowly but surely the names and com badges of the fallen crew began to be added.

Nixon stepped forward and, in an act of remembrance, ran his fingers over the newest additions - the ships former Commanding and Executive Officers. He concentration was broken by the swish of the Mess Hall's far doors.

---

Having had a lot of trouble sleeping, Lieutenant Sharvo Irril had made his way into the Mess Hall of the Alliance to get some coffee before getting an early start to his day. Having been a Night Watch Duty Officer early in his career, the Bajoran actually loved working aboard a starship during the night shift. It was calm, peaceful, and you could actually get a lot of work done with a minimum of fuss. No one really cared who you were on the night shift and it was a lot more relaxed than other shifts aboard a starship. Now, in his role as Operations Manager, he was certain to turn some heads arriving on the Bridge as late as he would.

Heading straight for the replicators at the back of the Officer's Mess, Irril yawned as he stood next to the terminal. Looking at the menu, he originally wanted a coffee but was debating between the myriad of choices available for the vessel's breakfast menu. His fingers hovered over the button for the coffee, but he debated getting a Cardassian Fish Juice or a Vulcan Mocha instead. Unlike most of his fellow Bajorans, Irril had grown a fondness for the Cardassian breakfast drink while growing up in Dakhur Province on Bajor. The Vulcan Mocha was a mystery for many because it had more caffeine than a Klingon Raktajino - few knew that - but there was a chance the Vulcan confection could drive a regular humanoid mad.

As he kept his finger above the Vulcan Mocha he had a flash in his mind of Lieutenant Akira Shoingyo of the Bellerophon. The sister ship of the Alliance, both Lieutenant Shoingyo and Sharvo had served aboard the Bellerophon toward the end of the war. They were originally competitors, then friends, finally lovers. During one of the final battles Akira had been serving on the Bridge when the Breen devastated the Bellerophon. They had managed to escape, but Akira was killed in the onslaught. Her favorite drink had been Vulcan Mocha.

He sighed and tapped the button for the fish juice as he heard someone nearby.

Nixon didn't turn to greet the new arrival, instead he continued to focus on the names on the wall, raising his coffee mug to his lips and drawing a long squig of the black liquid into his mouth. He had been standing watching for so long that it had gone cold, he let out a sigh of disgust as he glanced down into the mug. "Ugh, I need a fresh cup." he spoke aloud to no one in particular.

"Coming right up," the Bajoran joked as he tapped the appropriate control on the replicator interface.

"Mr. Irril. You're prowling the decks late at night again?" he questioned as he took the fresh cup of coffee his Chief Operations Officer presented to him.

"Something along those lines," Sharvo answered as the Captain took the cup. "Having served on the Night Watch so often in my career it's a nice change of pace from the hustle and bustle of the day shift." He took his own Cardassian Fish Juice and took a sip of it. It was the perfect temperature, he was actually surprised. "What about you, Captain, what brings you out at such a late hour?"

"Insomnia Lieutenant. Insomnia. I don't think I've had a good nights sleep since I came back onboard." He took a gulp from the fresh coffee cup, and glanced at the Chief Operation's Officers own drink.

"Cardassian Fish juice?" the Captain's face didn't hide his own dislike for the beverage, "I've never been able to acquire a taste for it. Much like Vole Milk. Never understand that one either." there was a momentary involuntary shake of disgust from his upper body.

The Bajoran looked at the drink that he held in his hand, considering it for a moment and realizing the darkness behind his choice. His father had collaborated with the Cardassians during the Occupation of Bajor, and he had grown up with all the rank and privilege that could be expected from such a station. Cardassians drank fish juice in the morning, warm fish juice at that, just as most humanoids drank coffee. He'd grown a taste for it, as much as he now hated that fact after learning the truth. "It is certainly an acquired taste, but I never did care for vole milk either." He took another drink and wondered if he'd watch the Captain shudder.

"How are you settling into the ship?" the Captain asked inquisitively. He was aware of the Lieutenant previous posting, another Intrepid Class, and the circumstances leading to his transfer.

"It's a lot like the Bellerophon," he said looking around the Mess Hall, "well almost. Our Officer's Mess had a galley while the Alliance has replicator banks. Bellerophon was originally designed for diplomatic service though, which was probably why it had the galley. I'm kinda surprised Alliance, with its name, wasn't also setup for the Diplomatic Corps."

He looked at the Captain, "I suppose I could ask you the same question, though. You were this ship's Security Chief, right?"

"Ah, well what would be because the galley is still Captain Galagh..." the Captain began to respond, but stopped mid sentence and corrected himself, "huh, is my private dining room."

"We do have extensive facilities available for diplomatic occasions. Specifically, the Forward Observation Lounge on deck nine alpha, is the section dedicated for Diplomatic events." he took another draw from the coffee mug before continuing, "Yes. I was the immediate-past Chief Security and Tactical officer."

The Operations Manager set the Fish Juice in the replicator tank and pressed the recycle key, disintegrating the drink into its constituent atoms in a brilliant flash of light. He returned his attention to the Captain, "Not many Intrepid Class ships saw service during the war," he glanced at the wall, "most of them were tied up behind the lines doing this, that, or the other thing but actually trying to defeat the Dominion. I'll be honest, I was kinda happy with that. After surviving the Cairo I didn't really want to see the front lines. When I got assigned to the flagship of Admiral Ross I expected even less risk."

"Nothing about life on a starship is risk-free Lieutenant. You and I have both learnt that the hard way." he placed a supportive hand on the younger officers shoulder. He took another drink from the coffee the Operations Officer had brought him.

"Let's hope that for the next while the risk remains as low as possible, eh?" he didn't know if he was trying to reassure the Lieutenant or himself.

Lieutenant Sharvo appreciated the reassuring hand of the Captain on his shoulder, but he had a feeling that life wasn't going to be that friendly to them. In the Post-Dominion War galaxy it really seemed as if nothing went as easily as they would hope it would. Not that it went any easier back in the Dominion War era either though.

"Excited to be finally getting a full boat?" The Ops Officer asked as he debated choosing something else from the replicator, grateful that the rations of the war were over.

"Not the words I would use Lieutenant, but I will be glad to be doing something useful again." Since the Battle of Cardassia, the Captain - then Lieutenant Commander - had spent a few months recovering both physically and mentally on Earth.

Nixon took a long draw from his cup, tipping its bottom towards the ceiling and draining it completely of liquid. Once he was content the cup was in fact empty, he began the walk from from the informal seating area back to the wall of replicators, "Lieutenant, I believe you're on Beta shift tomorrow... please ensure you're suitably rested in advance, yea?"

"Don't worry about me, Captain. I've been stationed on a vessel that tried to function on Centaruian Time before. Know anything about Centaurian Time? It's a 37-hour day. One of two things happen when you try Centaruian Time. Either you get used to it, or you have a psychotic episode. Fortunately, I was one of the ones that was able to function on it. Others... not so much. We reverted about a week later."

"Thank god I've never had to experience that." he responded rather quickly. "Well, Lieutenant, you might not need sleep but I do. It was good to chat with you Irril." He nodded to his colleague.

The Bajoran nodded, "And you too, Captain, see you on the Bridge."

 

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