[Fiction] Warbird

zebgodwin

Star Trek: Warbird

A Star Trek Online fan fiction by Zebediah Godwin

These are the voyages of the warbird Averek

Welcome to my fan fiction series, set aboard the RRW Averek, an Ar'kif-class warbird of the Romulan Republic.

My plan is to write approximately one episode per month. This may turn out to be optimistic - time will tell. Each episode will be in multiple posts, as many as it takes.

Since the forum won't let me post the graphics, you can find the series title graphic here and the cast photo here. Episode title graphics will be linked from the episode title.

First post of episode 1 will be up shortly.

zebgodwin

Episode 1: Point of Divergence


Commander's log, 22.03.15 MRC
Following a successful shakedown cruise, the RRW Averek has arrived at Federation Starbase 39-Sierra. Per agreement between the Romulan Republic and the Federation, we will be taking aboard a complement of fifty Starfleet personnel to round out our crew.

Commander Zhem Galan strode into Averek's briefing room for his morning staff meeting. “Commander on deck!” his first officer barked, and his senior officers snapped to attention.

“At ease,” Zhem said curtly, and took his seat. “And good morning.”

He looked around the small conference table at the familiar faces of his department heads. To Zhem's left was Khoal tr'Valdran, his first officer and one of his oldest friends, his purple uniform jacket indicating his status as chief tactical officer. Khoal sat with his arms crossed and an unusually sour expression on his face. Next to him was Averek's second officer N'alae t'Khnialmnae, a trim dark-haired woman wearing the deep-blue uniform jacket of the science division. Across the table from them was Eviess Xereth, Averek's small and perpetually cheerful Reman chief engineer, laughing at something that Arex Terrh'vnau, the ship's young, sandy-haired operations officer had said to her. Lastly there was Ejiul Dar, a large man in the blood-green uniform jacket of the ship's medical corps. Good officers and trusted friends, all of them, thought Zhem.

“Good morning to you too, Commander,” Eviess said. The Reman gave him a dubious look and frowned. “And if it's not out of line to ask, what are you wearing?”

Zhem arched an eyebrow at her. “New dress uniform,” he answered. “Didn't you get the memo?”

“Didn't read it,” she said, shaking her head. “I'm an engineer. I don't do fancy dress.”

“Some of us aren't so lucky,” said Khoal sourly.

N'alae examined Zhem closely. His jacket was had a crimson breast and silvery metallic sleeves and with gold trim, cut in a style completely unlike the more utilitarian jackets the other officers wore. “It didn't look so bad in the pictures,” she mused. “It looks like a Federation uniform, if you ask me.”

“It's a hybrid,” spat Khoal, not bothering to hide his distaste. “Half Federation, half Romulan, not entirely one or the other.”

Zhem shrugged. “Be that as it may, somebody at Command thought this was a good idea, and we are bound to follow orders.” He gave Khoal a no-nonsense stare and continued, “Now, shall we get on with the briefing, Subcommander?”

“Yes, sir,” Khoal replied hastily, fully aware that his commander only called him by his rank when he was feeling annoyed with him. “Ship's status: we're at station-keeping a kilometer from the starbase, per Starfleet traffic control. Starfleet shuttles are preparing to transport their personnel aboard in one hour.”

“Very good,” Zhem said. “Arex, have you found quarters for all of them?”

“Yes, Commander,” the young man said. “Except...” He sighed. “Sir, I know you said to mix the Starfleet personnel in with the rest of the crew, but I assigned the Klingon and the Ferengi to a cabin together.”

“At my suggestion,” Khoal added. “I thought it would cause... less friction.”

Zhem frowned. “How so?”

Khoal hesitated. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Tell me what's on your mind, Subcommander.”

“Commander, I understand why Fleet Command made this agreement. We can build new ships faster than we can train crews for them, and it's a way to get experienced personnel.”

“I'm sensing a 'but' in there, Khoal.”

“Sir, a sixth of our crew is going to be Starfleet. Not Romulan. It would have been one thing if they had assigned us all Vulcans, but what Starfleet is sending us...” Khoal shook his head. “Humans and Andorians and Tellarites I expected, but a Klingon? A Ferengi? Is that what we agreed to, Commander?”

“We agreed to take on Starfleet personnel, Subcommander,” Zhem said with finality. “And that's what we're getting. Is that clear?”

Khoal's face hardened. “Clear, Commander.”

“Good,” Zhem said. “Now, Doctor, do we have adequate medical supplies for all of our new crewmates?”

“Not yet,” answered Ejiul. “I've requested supplies from the starbase, and they're sending them aboard on one of the shuttles. I've reviewed the medical info that Starfleet sent us, but it's a lot to digest – so many different physiologies to handle. Fortunately there is a Starfleet surgeon joining my team, who will be able to bring me up to speed.”

“Very good,” Zhem said. “Now, I'm due in Admiral T'nae's office in a few minutes, so Arex, you'll be responsible for supervising the embarkation of the new crew and supplies. I'll review them in the shuttlebay after my meeting concludes. Khoal, schedule a series of training exercises for each shift – I'll review the duty roster later. Eviess, keep the singularity core online; we'll be warping out this afternoon. N'alae, you have the bridge. Oh, and all senior officers will be joining me for dinner in the forward mess tonight. Any questions?”

“Do I have to wear one of those horrible uniforms?” Eviess asked.

Zhem smiled. “No, your regular duty uniform will do. Believe me, I'm not wearing this thing a moment longer than I have to. Dismissed.”

starswordc

First thing that caught my eye was you got the male and female Rihan honorifics mixed up. T' goes on female characters' surnames and tr' on males', but you've got a female named tr'Khnialmnae and a male named t'Valdran.

Nitpick aside, chapter's too short to tell where you're headed with this but it looks like a decent start.

zebgodwin

Oops! Thanks for catching that - it's been a long time since I read My Enemy, My Ally and I guess I just misremembered that bit. I've edited my post, and will get around to updating the name on the cast graphic eventually. Meanwhile, I hope to have the next post up shortly. Thanks for reading!

zebgodwin

Federation starbases were always brightly lit, but on the cool side, at least to Zhem's taste. Starbase 39 was an older one, though, and lacked what Zhem considered the excessive opulence of other Starfleet stations such as Earth Spacedock. Admiral T'nae's office was, by comparison to the offices of some Starfleet admirals that Zhem had visited, comfortably lit and agreeably spartan.

“Admiral,” Zhem said, banging his fist to his chest in a Romulan-style salute. The Vulcan nodded serenely and gestured to him to sit. Another Starfleet admiral, a petite gray-haired human female, occupied a seat to one side.

“Commander Zhem,” T'nae said. “Welcome aboard. Have you met Admiral Janeway?”

“Admiral...” Zhem reflexively snapped to attention. “No, I have not. It's an honor, Admiral.”

“Oh, sit down, Commander,” Katherine Janeway said with a wry grin. “No need to stand on ceremony with me. Besides, I've been wanting to meet you – you've developed quite a reputation, you know.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” Zhem said, taking a chair. “Admiral T'nae, I'm here to finalize the transfer of Starfleet personnel to my crew.”

T'nae handed him a pad. “Here is the authorization,” she said. “I trust they will serve you well.”

Zhem pressed his thumb to the pad and handed it back to the Vulcan. “I do not doubt that they will, Admiral.”

“How's your crew handling the idea of having Starfleet personnel on board?” Janeway asked him.

Zhem cleared his throat before replying. “Some of them are... dubious, Admiral. We're not used to as pluralistic a society as the Federation.”

“Do you have any concerns about how they will integrate with your existing crew?” T'nae asked.

“We've successfully integrated Remans into our crews already,” Zhem said. “Although not without a degree of friction at first. In time, though, Romulans and Remans learned to work together, despite our history. I trust it will be the same here.”

“Mind if I offer you a bit of advice, Commander?” Janeway asked. “When Voyager was in the Delta quadrant, I took a number of Maquis personnel into my crew. I was worried about the division between Starfleet and Maquis – what kind of effect would that have on morale and teamwork? So I emphasized that we weren't two crews – Voyager had one crew. A Starfleet crew.” She gave Zhem a smile. “And we made it back home, together. So my advice to you, Commander, is to make them your crew.”

“As long as it is understood that they remain Starfleet officers and are bound by Starfleet regulations,” T'nae added. “Particularly the Prime Directive.”

“Understood, Admiral,” Zhem said. “They have taken an oath, and I would never ask them to violate that.”

“Excellent,” T'nae said. “That being the case, I have a – request for assistance.”

Zhem raised an eyebrow, and the Vulcan admiral continued. “Two days ago, a Federation science vessel, the USS Nantucket, encountered a Valdore-class Imperial warbird in the Trimble system.”

“Trimble,” Zhem repeated. “Near the Klingon border, where an Imperial warbird has absolutely no business being. Do you think the Tal Shiar are up to something?”

“The Nantucket detected abnormally high levels of chroniton emissions in the vicinity of Trimble III,” T'nae said. “They were not able to to get close enough to discover the source before the warbird engaged them and chased them out of the system.”

“And you know what chroniton emissions mean, Commander,” Janeway added. “Somebody's experimenting with temporal mechanics. That could mean all sorts of potential mischief.”

“And you want us to check it out.”

“Precisely,” T'nae said. “Your vessel has capabilities that ours do not. And as dealings with the Tal Shiar are technically internal matters to your people, there would be fewer diplomatic complications.”

Zhem nodded. “I'll go have a look, Admiral. And I'll pass along whatever I find to you.” He rose, and saluted Janeway. “Thank you for the advice, Admiral Janeway.”

“My pleasure, Commander,” Janeway said, rising and shaking his hand. “Part of me wishes I could join you – you're going to be out on the sharp end of things. Just the place where someone like you can do the most good. Good luck, Zhem.”

zebgodwin

Averek's shuttlebay was the largest open space in the ship, even when carrying the ship's complement of shuttles and runabouts. The Starfleet shuttles had unloaded and departed, and Averek's new crew formed up in ranks in the middle of the landing zone in a colorful block of blue and gold and red uniforms, with a few civilian auxiliaries off to one side in a loose knot. Individually they were amazingly varied, with Vulcans who could pass for Romulan standing beside blue-skinned Andorians or squat, bearded Tellarites, a lone Klingon ensign in a red tactical uniform, a Ferengi in civilian clothing, a dark-eyed Betazoid and a couple of Trill with their distinctive spots, and lots and lots of humans. The Federation in microcosm, Zhem mused.

“Commander on deck!” Arex called, and a tall, slender, dark-skinned human woman in red and black shouted, “Ten-hut!” The Starfleet personnel all snapped to attention in commendable fashion.

“Lieutenant Shonna Amass reporting, Commander,” the woman said, raising a hand to her forehead in a Starfleet-style salute. “All personnel are aboard and ready for duty.”

“Very good, Lieutenant,” Zhem answered. Lieutenant Shonna – no, Lieutenant Amass, he reminded himself, recalling that humans used their family names rather than personal names in these situations – eyed him with cool detachment that didn't entirely hide her nervousness. “At ease,” Zhem called out, and the Federation personnel relaxed ever so slightly. “And welcome aboard the Averek.”

Zhem began slowly walking past the front rank of the crew, trying to match faces he had only seen in crew dossiers with names. “If I had the time, I'd give you a long speech about how your service aboard this ship represents a new beginning for both the Romulans and the Federation,” he said. “But as we're warping out in a few minutes, I'll be brief. You're here because we need your help. That's not an easy thing for a Romulan to admit. But we lost our worlds because our government not only failed to ask for help, but rejected help when it was offered. We will not make that mistake twice. When we were most in need, the Federation reached out to us and offered us aid. Because of that, we have a chance to rebuild – to make a new Romulus from the ashes of the old. That, in brief, is why you are here. Together, we will build a new future for our peoples and this quadrant.

“That's all,” Zhem announced. “Find your quarters and report to your department heads for your duty assignments. Dismissed. Lieutenant Amass, you're with me.”

“I'll see that your gear gets to your quarters, Lieutenant,” Arex said.

“Thanks,” Amass answered, handing him a Starfleet-blue duffel. “Ready when you are, Commander.”

“Follow me,” Zhem told her, heading to the turbolift. He activated his communicator and said, “Subcommander Khoal, report to Commander's ready room.”

The turbolift let them out onto Averek's bridge, where N'alae sat in the command chair. “Commander on the bridge!” she announced, snapping to attention.

“As you were,” Zhem said. “Centurion, you still have the bridge.”

“All stations report ready for warp,” N'alae informed him. “Traffic control has given us clearance for departure. Subcommander Khoal is waiting in your ready room.”

“Very good,” Zhem said. “Lay in a course for the Trimble system.”

“Course for Trimble system, aye, Commander,” the navigator confirmed.

“Take us out, Centurion,” Zhem ordered.

“Impulse engines ahead full,” N'alae ordered. “Engine room, stand by for warp.”

“Impulse engines ahead full, aye,” the helm reported. “Clear for warp speed in five seconds.”

N'alae nodded. “Very good,” she said. “Warp eight on my mark. Ready... mark.”

The ship filled with a barely-audible rumble as the warp engines powered up, and Zhem felt a familiar but nearly-indescribable sensation of space twisting around him as the singularity core activated and sent them hurtling beyond the speed of light.

“Warp eight,” the helm announced. “Warp field stable. All systems normal.”

“Excellent,” Zhem said, allowing a smile to creep across his face. It had been routine, but executed with a level of professionalism that made him proud – and incidentally impressed his new security chief. “I'll be in my ready room,” Zhem informed N'alae. “Lieutenant Amass, with me.”

Khoal came to attention as Zhem entered the ready room; Zhem gestured for him and Amass to take a seat. He noted Khoal and Amass eying each other warily. “Khoal, allow me to introduce Lieutenant Shonna Amass,” Zhem said. “Our new chief of security.”

“Subcommander,” Amass said with a curt nod. “A pleasure.”

“Likewise,” Khoal answered, in a tone that implied it was anything but. The human, for her part, seemed unfazed by Khoal's unwelcoming tone. Zhem watched her eyes take in the room – the plants, the painting of Virinat hanging on the wall, and lastly the holographic model on Zhem's desk.

Zhem smiled. “I see you've noticed my old ship,” he said.

Amass snapped back to attention for a second, then relaxed. “Yes, Commander,” she said, eying the hologram more closely. “T'liss class, isn't it?”

Zhem nodded. “The Mhorasz. My first command.” He chuckled. “A relic of the old Empire. Obsolete before I was born, but in those days we had to take what we could get. We held her together with jury-rigs and scavenged components and more aluminum tape than I care to admit.”

“You sound like you miss it.”

Even Khoal smiled at the memory. “A good ship,” he said. “My father commanded it, once.”

“And saved our lives,” Zhem added. “When the order came to evacuate Romulus, Commander Vehl gathered up all the family members of his crew that he could find. We got out – just before the subspace shock hit the planet.”

Khoal's face darkened again. “A bad day,” he said.

“I'm sorry,” Amass said. Khoal's dark expression turned angry, but Zhem held up a hand before he could speak.

“It's what made us what we are today, Lieutenant,” Zhem said softly. “There's not a Romulan or Reman on this ship who hasn't lost a home. Some of us more than once.”

Amass nodded silently, so Zhem continued. “And that, in a way, is what I wanted to talk to you about. I suppose you must be wondering why I chose you to head security on this ship.”

“I did find it a bit curious,” the human admitted.

“Tal Shiar,” Khoal said flatly. “They're everywhere. Constantly trying to undermine everything we're building. They want to bring us – the Republic – down. Take our home from us, again.”

“And you think you have Tal Shiar infiltrators aboard?”

Zhem laughed. “Lieutenant, I know I have Tal Shiar spies aboard. I just don't know who they are. I have a pretty good idea of who isn't,” he said, gesturing towards Khoal. “My senior officers I trust absolutely. But the rest of the crew? Everyone has their price, Shonna, and the Tal Shiar are experts at finding that price. Who of us doesn't have a missing relative or two who just might be languishing in a Tal Shiar prison camp somewhere? But you, on the other hand...”

Amass looked thoughtful. “I'm clearly not Tal Shiar. So as an outsider, I can be trusted.”

Zhem nodded. “Put simply, yes. In addition to maintaining shipboard security, I'll need you to be on the lookout for any evidence of Tal Shiar infiltration.”

“Anything you find – anything, no matter how small – you should report to me and the Commander immediately,” Khoal said. “Don't let it go for lack of proof.”

“Understood,” Amass said. “But I'm... concerned, Commander. This is how witch hunts get started.”

“Witch hunts...” Zhem turned over the unfamiliar phrase in his mind a couple of times before the meaning became clear. “Ah, you mean a Shindari inquisition. That's our term for an unwarranted and excessively zealous investigation. Yes, I understand your concern, Lieutenant. But trust me to make the call as to who gets investigated and who doesn't.”

“Understood, Commander.”

Zhem smiled. “Then I'll leave you to get settled in and meet your security staff,” he said. “You'll join us for dinner in the forward mess this evening, I trust?”

“Delighted,” Amass answered.

“Very good. I'll see you at 17.0 hours. Oh, and I'll need an intelligence report on the Trimble system at tomorrow morning's briefing.”