Star Trek: Journeys

USS Thunderbolt
Observation Lounge, following part 4

To save time, Ingrid kept the introductions short before yielding the floor to Moretti.  She was still confused and angry over Moretti’s deception on Risa, but she compartmentalized her feelings for the sake of her crew and the mission.  Letting her personal feelings get in the way could endanger her ship and crew, and she wasn’t about to run that risk. 

Besides, you didn’t always get to pick your crew for your first command.  Ingrid had specifically requested Kimball and Avery, and considered herself lucky that Command had honored her requests.  The reality was that most of the officers in this room had never served together before, and this mission would likely determine whether or not they could function effectively as a team. 

Ingrid pushed these thoughts from her mind and focused on the presentation as Moretti took her place by the room’s massive LCARS panel.  “As you all know,” Moretti began, “the Diplomatic Corps has been negotiating prisoner exchanges with the Dominion since the war ended.”

“For the most part we’ve been successful,” the Betazoid hybrid continued.  “But a small cadre of Cardassian hardliners has refused to acknowledge the new government.  After the battle of Cardassia, they withdrew to a POW camp in the Borias  System.”  She made a swiping motion on her PADD and a star system map appeared in the center of the big display.   

“According to our sources, Gul Narev and his followers still have twenty-four Federation prisoners incarcerated there, and they’ve refused all attempts to negotiate so far.”  She sighed angrily.  “To add insult to injury, Narev’s already contacted the Orion Syndicate, and we believe he plans to sell some or all of our people into servitude.”

She fixed them all with a grim look.  “We have to get them off of Borias before that happens.  It will be much easier while they’re still together.  Once they’ve been sold, it could take months if not years to track them all down.”

Moretti took a breath.  “The Cardassian government doesn’t have the resources to deal with this, so they’ve given us permission to attempt an extraction.”

Ingrid could see where this was heading, given the assets already present.  “So we need the element of surprise,” she observed.  “The Klingons go in under cloak and insert the Away Team, and the Thunderbolt is your exit strategy?”

Moretti nodded.  “Essentially, yes.  Captain Bokar drops us off, then creates a diversion while the team secures the prisoners.”

“And then we scoop you all up and haul ass out of the system,” Kimball observed.  “Shouldn’t be a problem,” she grinned.  “Our girl can out-run and out-fight just about anything her size.”

“I’ll set up a triage center in the Shuttlebay,” Doctor Kez volunteered.  “Cardassian POW camps are not known for their hospitality, and Narev is a sadist by anybody’s standards.”

“Do it,” Ingrid ordered.  “We can mask our warp signature,” she continued, “but we can use any advantage to increase our stealth capacity.  Na-Varr and Povik, review the astrometric data for this region.  Look for anything we can use to our advantage.”  She glanced at Moretti.  “XO, put together your team.  You’ll have priority access to the holodeck until you’re ready to transfer to the R’uth.”

Ingrid looked around at her officers.  “Any questions?”

Ltc. Ingrid Selvig
Commanding Officer
USS Thunderbolt

USS Thunderbolt
Rendezvous point

Transporter Room 1, following Part 3

 

Ingrid wasn’t sure how to feel in that moment.  When they’d met on Risa, Evelyn Cooper had claimed to be a civilian counselor with Betazoid ancestry.  She’d said nothing about being a Starfleet officer.  But they’d only known each other a few days, so there was quite a bit about her own life that Ingrid hadn’t shared.  Since she was a Starfleet officer and a grown woman, Ingrid decided to give the Betazoid the benefit of the doubt.

And then the Betazoid spoke.

“Lieutenant Paola Moretti, reporting for duty,” the younger woman announced formally, holding forth a PADD.  “My orders.”

So she had lied about her name as well as her career.  Had she been honest about anything at all on Risa?  Or had the entire week been a lie?

“Thank you lieutenant.”  Ingrid accepted the device, forcing her face to remain impassive.  That was solely for the benefit of her crew however.  She knew full well Evelyn/Moretti would sense her rising storm of emotions.

The orders were genuine, so Ingrid signed off on them before handing the PADD to Okoye.  “Welcome aboard,” she added as civilly as possible, gesturing for Moretti to step down off the platform. “This is our Tactical officer Lieutenant Okoye.”

If Okoye noticed the tension between the other women, she chose not to comment on it.  “Welcome aboard,” she smiled, shaking Moretti’s hand.

“Thanks,” Moretti replied, “but we don’t have a whole lot of time.”

“Understood,” Ingrid nodded.  “This way, the rest of the senior staff is waiting for us.”

[Corridor]

Okoye trailed behind as Ingrid led the way to the turbolift, and Moretti fell in beside her new captain.  “Look, about Risa,” Moretti began in a quiet voice.

Ingrid shot her a look, cutting her off.  “Not now,” she growled, keeping her voice low as well.  They had reached the turbolift, the doors opened as they approached.  “But we will discuss it at some point.”

Moretti merely nodded.  “Understood.”

 

TBC…

Ltc. Ingrid Selvig
Commanding Officer

Lt. Paola Moretti
Executive Officer

Lt. Adina Okoye
Security/Tactical Officer

USS Thunderbolt

USS Thunderbolt
Deep Space, location classified

Captain’s Log, supplemental:

We’ve been ordered to cut our shakedown cruise short in order to rendezvous with the Klingon warship R’uth for a joint operation.  While we’ve received no details regarding the mission, the level of secrecy so far suggests this mission will be anything but routine.

[Bridge]

“Slow to impulse,” Ingrid ordered as she entered the bridge.  She had been in the Ready Room catching up on administrative duties, and returned to the bridge once the ship neared the rendezvous point.  The stars on the viewscreen resolved into fixed points as she returned to her chair.

“Klingon vessel decloaking,” Okoye warned.  “Bearing one eight zero, mark one five.  It’s the R’uth.”

“Damn they’re right on top of us,” Avery observed a little too loudly.  Realizing his slip, he cleared his throat.  “They’re hailing,” he added.

Ingrid smiled.  Captain Bokar was one of her oldest friends, and she’d been looking forward to seeing him again.  “Onscreen.”

A corpulent, one-eyed Klingon resplendent in a captain’s coat appeared on the screen.  “You’re getting sloppy Starfleet,” he growled.

“It’s good to see you too old friend,” Ingrid replied wryly.  “I see you still haven’t found a good day to die.”

Bokar waved a hand dismissively.  “There will be other wars.  Perhaps when this mission is over, we can regale one another with tales of our battles against the Dominion filth.  But now is not the time.  We need to get underway as soon as possible.  Your new First Officer is ready to beam over, and she will brief you on our mission objectives.”

“Understood,” Ingrid replied.  Bokar might be an old friend and former lover, but he still outranked her.  As long as their orders didn’t conflict with Starfleet protocols or Federation law, she’d follow his lead.  “Selvig out.”

When the screen went back to the external view, Ingrid stood.  “Kimball you have the bridge, Okoye with me.”

[Transporter Room 1]

“Energize.”

Ingrid had no idea what to expect from her new XO, as Starfleet Command had provided precious little information on this mission aside from a brief encrypted message.  However, she’d been in Starfleet long enough to become accustomed to emergency deployments and clandestine activities.  Especially during the Dominion War, when the risk of enemy infiltration had increased exponentially.

However, Ingrid was completely unprepared for the figure that appeared on the transporter platform when the cycle completed.  A slim brunette in a command uniform.  She was about Ingrid’s height, with her dark hair in a ponytail.  The last person Ingrid had ever expected, for numerous reasons.

It was Evelyn Cooper.

TBC…

Ltc. Ingrid Selvig
Commanding Officer

USS Thunderbolt
NCC 77151

“Dive, Dive!”

USS Thunderbolt
Byers System, Fleet Exercise Range

Bridge, six weeks after Risa

An officer’s first command was always a milestone in her career, not to mention a fond memory to be cherished for years to come.  Much like a hookup on Risa, Ingrid reflected.  She and Evelyn had gone their separate ways at the end of the week, with the mutual understanding that there was no expectation of any kind of a commitment.

In all honestly, Ingrid had been too busy since returning to active duty to worry much about her personal life.  Starfleet had given her command of a brand-new Interceptor class starship, and she’d had the honor of supervising the ship’s final construction.

Slightly larger than a Nova class surveyor, the Thunderbolt had been designed primarily as a tactical vessel.  She was fast and durable, designed to run down and engage vessels twice her size.  The first handful of these ships had seen service during the war, and they had more than proved themselves as escorts and long-range scouts.

The ship’s bridge was a simplified version of the layout used in the Intrepid class, only smaller.  A single command chair sat behind the helm station, which itself was down in a small depression, allowing for an unobstructed view of the main view screen.  Smaller displays flanking the view screen itself provided Ingrid with a wealth of information regarding the little ship’s status at any given time.

So far, the shakedown cruise had gone well, and this morning they had set course for the Fleet Exercise Range to conduct live-fire drills.  Every station was manned except for the XO’s, which was situated directly behind Ingrid. Starfleet had yet to assign a permanent first officer.  Chief Engineer Lt. Lauren Kimball had been Acting XO since Ingrid took command, but she’d made it clear she wasn’t interested in leaving Engineering.

Ingrid certainly respected Kimball’s decision.  The engineer had been involved with the Thunderbolt’s construction from the day of the first weld, so she knew the ship better than anyone aboard.  Including Operations Officer Ben Avery, who’d also been part of the construction team.

“We’re approaching the exercise range,” Ensign Na-Varr, the ship’s half-Efrosian CONN officer reported.

“Slow to impulse,” Ingrid ordered, rising to stand behind the CONN.  As she rested her hands on the safety rail, she immediately realized it would make an excellent podium when she was addressing people on the view screen.

“No traffic in the system,” Tactical Officer Okoye reported.  “And no power signatures aside from the warning buoy.”

“That’s a good thing,” Avery quipped, “since we’re here to blow stuff up.”

 There was no longer anything of any real value in this star system, just a few gas giants and rocky bodies.  No M-class planets, and all the mineral deposits had run dry years ago.  As a result, it made the perfect place for Starfleet vessels to conduct live-fire drills.  While you could learn a great deal from a simulation, it was much better to test your ship’s weapons in real-life than to risk a malfunction in combat.

“Helm, set course for Byers five,” Ingrid ordered.  “Okoye, program the target drones for full evasive maneuvers.  I want to make this as close to real combat as we can get.”

[Byers V, a few minutes later]

Ingrid had ordered the ship to the one ringed planet in the system, where the ice and debris in the rings would provide good places for the drones to evade Thunderbolt’s targeting sensors.

“We’re in position,” Na-Varr reported, as the blueish storm-wracked planet dominated the viewscreen.

“Launch drones,” Ingrid ordered, taking her seat again.  “Red alert.”

The aft torpedo launcher spit out a series of drones in quick succession, and the probes sped away from the ship, attempting to hide themselves among the rocks and ice.  This planet had a particularly dense ring system, so it should be somewhat challenging to hunt them down.

Of course, Thunderbolt’s tactical sensors were state-of-the-art, and the drones weren’t particularly stealthy.  When Ingrid gave the order, Na-Varr dove the ship into the rings at speed, dancing the ship between chunks of ice large enough to destroy the nimble little scout, tough as she was.

Again and again, Okoye found her targets, and used the ship’s phasers to dispatch them with surgical precision.  Na-Varr maneuvered around a particularly large ice chunk to get the last one and managed to line up the perfect shot with the main guns.  A burst from the pulse phasers was more than enough to destroy the final drone.

“Bango,” Avery crowed triumphantly as the final drone exploded.

“I fail to understand your excitement,” Science Officer Povik commented.  “We destroyed an unarmed probe, not a particularly memorable achievement.”

Avery seemed unfazed by the criticism.  “We did prove the targeting sensors are properly calibrated,” he pointed out.

Ingrid barely noticed the exchange, as she had her eyes on a large storm swirling across the gas giant’s surface    “Mister Povik, tell me about that storm.”

Povik reported a moment later, confirming Ingrid’s suspicions.  The storm was several kilometers deep, and intense enough that a shuttlecraft was unlikely to survive for more than a few minutes.  Perfect.

“Ensign, set a course for that storm.  We’re going to dive through it as far down as we can go.”

“Aye captain.”  Ingrid couldn’t see the young woman’s face, but she did tense up as she entered the commands into her console.  “Course plotted and laid in.”

Kimball turned from the Engineering station with a concerned look.  “Captain, the atmospheric pressure increases exponentially deeper into the interior.  If we go too far down, it could crush the ship, armor or no armor.”

“Consider it an unscheduled structural integrity test,” Ingrid told her.  “Full power to shields and structural integrity.”

TBC…Ltc. Ingrid Selvig
Commanding Officer
USS Thunderbolt

“What Happens on Risa…”

Risa, 2375 (after the Dominion War)
Delos Resort
Poolside – day

Although she had only arrived an hour or so ago, Ingrid Selvig could tell that a week’s leave on Risa would be good for her.  She already felt more relaxed than she had in a long while.  She’d booked a suite in a beach resort, one that had been built so that every suite had an ocean-side view.

The beach could wait until later, however.  Check-in time was late afternoon local time, and she had decided to lounge by one of the resort’s pools until time to get ready for dinner.  The resort had a restaurant onsite, and she’d already decided to try that one first.

For now, she lounged in a chair in a half-doze, enjoying the warm sunlight on the skin her swimsuit left exposed.  A dermaline injection had been high on her list of priorities…otherwise her fair Nordic skin would burn in a heartbeat.  As it was, she would have a nice tan by the end of the week, but no sunburn.  A pair of polarized lenses in a gold frame protected her eyes from the sun.

“Anyone sitting here?”

The voice came from Ingrid’s left, waking her from near sleep.  She turned her head to see a slim brunette standing by the chair next to her.  She and Ingrid were about the same height, but Ingrid suspected the other woman to be a few years younger.  There were plenty of empty chairs, implying the woman wanted to sit next to her, specifically.

“Be my guest,” Ingrid replied, gesturing to the empty chair.

“Love your accent,” the woman said as she spread her towel over the chair.  She slipped off her wrap, and her brightly colored bikini proved her to be quite fit.  “Where you from?”

“Norway originally,” Ingrid admitted.  “Although we moved to Denali Colony while I was young.”

“Indiana,” the other woman volunteered.  “Lived there my whole life.”  As she lay down on the chair, she caught sight of the horga’hn sitting on the table between them and cocked an eyebrow.  “First time on Risa?”

“Hard to believe,” Ingrid admitted, “but yes.”

The woman nodded at the Horga’hn.  “So, you do know what that is, then.”

Ingrid knew exactly what it was, and she’d made a point to buy one as soon as she’d arrived on Risa.  Just because she’d come here alone didn’t mean she had to spend the whole week that way…  “I do,” Ingrid offered her a sly smile.  “Is that an offer?”

The woman laughed.  “Maybe.”  Grinning, she rolled on her side to face Ingrid.  “Why don’t we get to know each other first?”  She stuck out her hand.  “Evelyn Cooper.”

Ingrid shook her hand.  “Ingrid Selvig.”

–Ingrid’s suite, night –

Ingrid awoke with a gasp, sitting bolt upright in bed.  She raked her flaxen hair out of her eyes with a sigh.  The damned dreams again, the ones that haunted her sleep every year around this time.  She’d undergone enough counseling after the Dominion War to be cleared for active duty, but they still came back sometimes.

Evelyn rolled over.  “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” Ingrid replied, lying back down.  “Just bad dreams.”

“You wanna talk about it?”  Evelyn propped herself up on an elbow.  “I am a counselor, you know.”

“Not really,” Ingrid said.  “I’m not trying to be rude,” Ingrid added.  “I just don’t want to spoil your vacation.”  The horga’hn might have brought them together, but the two women had truly bonded over dinner.  They might never meet again after this week, and Ingrid was determined to enjoy whatever time they had together.  Not drag out her old baggage.

Evelyn slipped an arm around her.  “I understand,” she yawned.  “I can’t turn it off though,” she added sleepily.  “Offer’s open whenever you want to talk.”

“Thank you,” Ingrid replied, rolling over so she could embrace Evelyn.  She finally fell asleep listening to the distant roar of the ocean, and the steady sound of Evelyn’s breathing.

Ltc. Ingrid Selvig
Commanding Officer

USS Thunderbolt
NCC 77151
“Fortune favors the bold”
–Roman proverb