Episode 101: Open Doors (Part 2)

[UltimateTrekker]

"And now," said Harrison, "I give you..." and as he spoke the name of the ship, the holographic projector turned off.

[glow=red,2,300]U.S.S. Archer[/glow]

[glow=red,2,300]  NCC - 6901[/glow]

The crowd applauded at the sight.

"Now, tomorrow this crew will embark on a shake down cruise to Alpha Centuri and back before beginning their mission!

"But, for now, enjoy yourselves, but remember, you're going to bed in you new home tonight, and at 0600, many of you will have to report for duty."

With that, he stepped down from the podium and took his seat next to Jefferys.

Servers began to bring out food for the senior staff as the rest of the crowd began taking seats for their own meals.  The LAST meal they'd eat on Earth for a while.

[Mentat_Tir]

Stirok looked around at his new crewmates awed faces as they reacted to hearing the ship’s name for the first time.

Fascinating, he thought.  What possible use could a ship’s name be?

Of course he understood the significance.  He had read the missions of Jonathan Archer and the Vulcan scientist, T’Pol in his youth.  But to him, the ship was nothing more than a collection of bulkhead, power conduits and deck plating.

To Stirok, the title, NCC-6901 seemed to suffice.

[Tricorder]

As he stood in awe after the recent announcement, Johansson wondered if the ship's name was was inspired by the growth of interest surrounding the early travels of Starfleet, more specifically a Captain Johnathan Archer.

A few months ago when the exploits of this early ship were unveiled, people either couldn't believe that Starfleet would cover something this up for long, or that the future Starfleet was trying all these years to gather information to learn what had happened and why they didn't know very much of this ship. He believed the latter as he didn't like talking about conspiracies. It made him feel unsettling and besides, he just preferred the research that came with it. Johansson liked puzzles. He liked doing them, and putting the pieces of the puzzle of this early traveller was something he found invigorating. He just couldn't take it anymore though, as he wanted to know more. He walked over to the Admiral.

"Admiral", he said, "That was quite some bomb dropping you did there. Sly work."

Harrison laughed a hearty chuckle and nodded, "Yes, I agree. I even surprise myself sometimes."

"If James T. Kirk were still alive", Johansson said, "I bet he'd be pretty darn upset."

Trying to change the subject, Harrison said, "Wait til you see the commissioning plaque, It's nothing like you've seen yet."
Johansson raised his eyebrows as he said, "Oh?", and Harrison responded with a wink.

"I want you to meet your engineer", Harrison said as he walked up to Stirok, "Stirok, meet Doc Johansson, Johansson, meet Stirok."

[Mentat_Tir]

Lt. Commander Stirok shook Johansson’s hand.  “A ‘pleasure’ to meet you, Dr. Johansson.”

“You too, Stirok,” Johansson said.  “And please, call me Doc.”

Stirok raised his eyebrow.  “Very well…Doc.”

“Mr. Stirok just finished a tour of duty on a deep space mission,” Harrison told Johansson.  “What was it?  130 planets in five years that you charted.  Quite impressive.”

“132 to be precise.  My time on the Polaris was fulfilling, but I am looking forward to assuming my duties on the Archer.”  Stirok gestured to the huge ship looming out the window.

Harrison smiled.  “Soon, Mr. Stirok.  First we have to send her off properly.”  An aide touched Harrison’s arm and whispered something in the admiral's ear.  “If you’ll excuse me, gentleman.”

Stirok turned to Johansson.  “I must confess, I am not comfortable with these situations.  I prefer my work to ‘socializing.’”

Johansson grinned.  “Stirok, I think you and I are going to get along very well.”

[Ana_Ng]

Alia gratefully ate another roll as she finished her dinner with the other ensigns she was seated with.  The bread had finally dulled the burn in her throat from the scotch.  She smiled as she listened to one of her fellow ensigns speak longingly of her boyfriend.

"He's been posted to Starbase 23, who knows when I'll see him next?" the ensign said longingly.

Kenek glanced over at the table where the senior staff was seated, wishing she could be seated with them.  After her joining, during the summer break before her senior year at the Academy, Alia had felt an increasing impatience to be among people who were more, well, for lack of a better word, mature.  

Kenek's glance shifted back to Commander Zack.  One of her fellow recent Academy graduates, Ensign Cartwright, notice the direction of her gaze and nudged her.

"I hear he's a real tough one," Cartwright said in a hushed tone as he downed the rest of his synthpagne.  "Rumor has it he once had an ensign in tears.  And she was a Vulcan."

Kenek smirked. "Sounds like another one of Cartwright's legendary tall tales.  I'm sure he's a fine XO, to those who don't screw up," she jabbed.

Cartwright looked skeptical.  "Well, if I posted on the bridge like you are, Kenek, I wouldn't screw up.  I don't think he's likely to be very impressed by the fact that you used to be a celebrity."

Kenek picked up her glass of water and shrugged,  "Well, I don't expect any special treatment here, Cartwright.  And besides, Nitza wasn't that famous.  She was just a well-recognized artist."

Cartwright snorted, "Yeah, sure, that's why Professor Cheney asked you for your autograph the first day of school," he looked across the assembly of senior staff members.  "I don't they're gonna ask for your autograph."

Alia sighed.

"Have you all met the captain?" the female ensign who'd just finished pining over her boyfriend asked the table.  "He really doesn't seem very... professional."

Kenek set her napkin on the table and stood.  "Well, everyone, as much I'd like to stay here gossiping about the people who are going to govern our careers, I think I'm going to find my quarters.  I have a ship to fly early in the morning."  She shot a satisfied glance at Cartwright as she spoke the last sentence, and left the table to say goodnight to the other new acquaintances she'd met that evening.

"Goodnight, Doc," Kenek said as she approached Johansson and Stirok.  "And goodnight to you as well, Commander Stirok. Sorry we didn't get to chat, but I suppose that's not actually necessary, is it?"

Stirok raised an eyebrow.  "No, Ensign, it is not."

Kenek smiled and leaned toward Stirok.  "I'll try not to crash the ship if you keep her running smoothly, sir."

"There is no need for concern, Ensign.  The ship will be functioning at maximum," Stirok replied.

Alia put up her hands, "Then there's is no need for concern on this end, either.  Goodnight, sir."

"Don't forget to schedule your physical," Johansson reminded her.

Kenek nodded to the doctor.  "It's on my 'to do' list, Doc."

Kenek walked over to Lt. Brandt and extended her hand.  "It was nice meeting you, sir."

Brandt took her hand and shook it. "Maybe next time we meet your vocal cords won't be burning," he said with a smile.

Kenek frowned slightly, "It was that obvious, huh?"

Brandt chuckled, "That obvious."

Kenek made a face, "In one hundred and fifty years of tasting all kinds of beverages, I don't think I've ever had anything so...corrosive."

"Live and learn, eh?" Brandt said with a small grin.

Kenek nodded furiously, "OH, yes sir.  Well, I'm off, goodnight."

Brandt nodded, "Goodnight, Kenek."

Kenek made her way over to Counselor Tae.

"Goodnight, Counselor," Alia said warmly to Rhai.  "Maybe we can get together tomorrow after our shift with a map of the ship?"

Rhai smiled.  "That might be a good idea."

She looked over to see Captain Jefferys and Admiral Harrison engaged in lively conversation, and deciding not to intrude, simply nodded to both and walked over to Commander Zack.

"Goodnight, sir," Kenek said simply to Zack.

"Ensign," Zack acknowledged with a nod of his head.

Kenek discreetly left the party and transported to the Archer.  She found her quarters within a few minutes and was pleased to finally meet her new roommate.  

[Andorian_Incident]

Thram looked at the crowd of people that had gathered in the room for the commissioning of the Archer.  That had been another reason why he had tried to avoid coming, and even protested when Jefferys had called and let him know that he was expected at the commissioning dinner--too many people in one place was hard to secure.  He knew that he was expected, and required as the Chief of Security, to be present, and it wasn't his job to secure Starfleet headquarters.  Starfleet had its own people to do that.  But if he didn't do it himself, he wasn't satisfied.  So, as a result, Thram remained on edge.

And of course, this way he could at least see the people that he'd be serving with before they reported to duty aboard the Archer.  Sure, he had read their dossiers while he had been on the ship trying to avoid this situation, but they weren't always that helpful in learning if there was going to be a problem.

Thram barely touched the food that was put in front of him.  It wasn't that he didn't like the food, though he did like traditional Andorian fare which couldn't be found on Earth, and couldn't be replicated with the same flair that he truly appreciated.

Thram looked at the person seated next to him; the science officer, Brandt.  He apparently was having no problems enjoying his meal.

"I didn't see you down here earlier, Thram," Brandt said in an attempt to make conversation.

"I chose to make some last minute preparations on the Archer."  

"It's a shame to let a social occasion go to waste, though."

"Perhaps to you," Thram retorted.  "I prefer smaller groups of people where I can more easily keep an eye on everyone."

"To each his own, I guess," Brandt replied.

"If you'll excuse me, I should get back to the ship.  I want to be there when most of the crew reports for duty," Thram commented and stood up from the table.  As he walked away, Brandt jokingly made the comment, more to himself than to anyone in particular, "Yeah, you never know, the Federation President may try to steal the ship from spacedock."

As Thram made his way towards the door, he noticed the ship's doctor wave him down.  Thram moaned to himself.  He couldn't even get out of the reception without being approached.

"Lieutenant Commander Thram, I presume."

"Are there any other Andorians assigned to the Archer that I don't know about?"

"Well, no, but I--"

"Then I must be Thram," Thram said, wanting nothing more than to be someplace else.  He wasn't exactly fond of doctors.

"I just want to say that I look forward to working with you on the Archer.  I'll let you know that I've had the pleasure of practicing my medicine on Andorians in the past, so you don't have to worry about being the first Andorian under my care."

"My worries are already put at ease," Thram said sarcastically, and walked away.

Thram was finally able to leave the reception without any further interruptions.  As he neared the transporter room to get back to the ship, he noticed a young lady staring at him.  He mentally reviewed those that he was going to serve with on the ship, and decided that it must be Ensign Alia Kenek.

"Reporting to the ship, Ensign Kenek?"

Kenek just continued to stare at the large Andorian without saying anything.

"Is there something wrong, Ensign?"

Finally Kenek snapped out of it.  "Oh, sorry, no, no problem, sir.  I just haven't seen too many Andorians.  Not too many serve on Federation starships."

"For good reason."

"If you don't mind me asking, sir, what is that reason?"

"You're young.  I'm sure it won't take you long to figure it out."

"Yes, sir."

Kenek continued walking to the transporter pads, and beamed up to the ship with a group of other junior officers.  Thram watched as they dematerialized, and then he himself got on the transporter to return to the ship.

[Mentat_Tir]

Alia Kenek seems like an interesting person, thought Stirok.  He had never met a Trill before.  The idea that a humanoid could live more than one lifetime was intriguing.  Stirok could only speculate on his engineering accomplishments if permitted to span over six or seven lifetimes.  And yet Kenek seemed little different from any other young woman.

Stirok scanned the room and found the Archer’s Executive Officer, Commander Zack.  Stirok had read Zack’s service record including his experiences on Vulcan.

“Greetings, Commander,” Stirok said holding up his hand and separating his fingers in the traditional Vulcan gesture.  “I am Stirok, Son of Stonn.  I come to serve.”

Zack returned the gesture.  “Your service honors us.  I heard there would be a Vulcan engineer onboard.”

“Indeed,” said Stirok.  “I understand that you spent some time on Vulcan as a child.”

Zack nodded , “Yes, I was raised on Vulcan.  I learned much about Vulcan philosophy, however, I’m afraid my emotional control is not up to Surak’s standards.”

“I understand,” said Stirok flatly.  “As humans say, ‘nobody is perfect.’”

Zack’s eyes widened at the comment, but then realized that what Stirok had meant.  Anyone else would have taken his remark as an insult, but Zack’s background made him realize it was only a detached observation.

Stirok continued.  “As I understand it, you were raised by both Vulcans and humans yet have Cardassian and Bajoran ancestry.”

Zack looked him over.  “That’s right.”

“Fascinating,” said Stirok.  “You are IDIC personified.”

[Peter_Pevensie]

Will had to laugh at himself as he watched Ensign Kenek go.  He had already begun to see her as the cultured, experienced, mature being she was on the inside, as opposed to the naïve young woman she appeared to be on the outside.  He quickly reminded himself that she was, in reality, an extraordinary combination of both.  But who would have guessed that he would one day consider a 23-year-old girl a peer?

Regardless of her century and a half of accumulated wisdom, she had committed a bit of a social blunder by being the first one to leave the party.  It was customary at these occasions to wait until the highest-ranking officer present made his exit before leaving oneself.  Now that Kenek had left, however, there was a virtual exodus taking place.  No one wanted to be the first to leave; it appeared that no one wanted to be the last either.  “Perhaps she’s simply so self-confident that she doesn’t feel the need to conform to tradition when it’s impractical,” Brandt thought.  He respected her all the more for it.

Brandt finished his chocolate mousse, placed his napkin on the table beside his coffee cup, and stood.  He had cringed internally when Admiral Harrison had referred to a 0600 report time, not because he dreaded it – he had always been an early riser – but because he had a great deal to do between now and then.  The full sensor suite would be tested during their short shakedown cruise, and there were still some calibrations to be done before the tests could take place.  He had planned to detail one of his junior science officers to the engineering team that would be performing the calibrations, but in the end decided that he would do the job himself.  Most of the young ensigns would be saying their good-byes long into the morning hours, and since he had no one to say good-bye to, it only seemed fair that he join the calibration team.

He noticed Stirok, the chief engineer, engaged in conversation with Doctor Johansson.  Or rather, not engaged.  Johansson was speaking passionately about something, gesturing with his sthingy for emphasis.  Stirok, on the other hand, appeared to be doing very little to keep up his end of the discussion.  Perhaps this would be a good time to interrupt.  He approached the two.

[Peter_Pevensie]

“Commander Stirok,” he said steadily, standing with his hands behind his back and bending slightly at the waist in the traditional Vulcan show of respect for a superior.  “I am Lieutenant Brandt, chief science officer.  It is agreeable to make your acquaintance.”  Will was surprised early in his Starfleet career to learn that he actually liked Vulcans; they reminded him of the Stoics of ancient Greece and were famous for their stability, a “known quantity” in the midst of so much in the galaxy that was still unknown.  He awaited Stirok’s reply.

The Vulcan looked up from his half-eaten mousse, satisfied (perhaps even surprised) to have been greeted in such an efficient manner.  “And yours as well, Lieutenant Brandt.”

“You served aboard the Polaris, I believe?” asked Will, loosening up just a little.

“That is correct,” replied Stirok.

“My last posting was aboard the Corsair.  We fought side by side during the Gorn incursion of 2369.”  He turned toward Johansson, who was watching intently.  “The Gorn had disabled us early in the battle with a lucky shot.  There were two battle cruisers swooping in for the kill when the Polaris appeared seemingly out of nowhere, destroyed one Gorn ship, and sent the other one to flight.  Only later did we find out that Polaris’ engineers were holding off a core breach the entire time.”

“You’re kidding,” Johansson asked Brandt.  Will, for his part, simply looked toward Stirok.

“Lieutenant Brandt’s assessment of the situation is essentially correct,” he replied.  Vulcans were neither proud nor humble when it came to their accomplishments, simply truthful.

“I owe you a debt of gratitude, sir,” Will said to Stirok.  He resisted the temptation to offer the engineer his hand, and merely bowed again at the waist.  The Vulcan returned the honor with a tilt of his head.  “I’ll be joining your sensor calibration team this morning representing the scientific staff.  May I ask whom you’ve placed in charge of the work?”

“Lieutenant Stoval is assembling his team in main engineering at 0300 hours.”

“Then I’ll meet them there.”  Will smiled and added, “I look forward to getting to know you better, Commander Stirok.”  He bade farewell to Doctor Johansson and his colleagues at the head table, and headed for the nearest transporter room.

“One to beam to the Archer,” he said to the technician manning the console.  As he shimmered out of existence, he realized that he had committed a bit of a social blunder himself; he hadn’t said a word to Commander Zack, the ships exec and his direct superior, all evening.  He expected Zack to hold it against him – Cardassians were famous for their grudges – but he wasn’t surprised to find that he didn’t care.   According to Starfleet regulations, he had to work for Zack, obey his lawful orders, and show him the respect due his rank and position.  But he was no regulation, protocol, or standing order that said he had to like him.

Brandt stepped off the pad on the Archer, straightened his uniform tunic, and walked in silence toward his quarters.

[Tricorder]

There was a grumbling noise coming from somewhere, and Johansson being somewhat paranoid, took his phaser out of his belt while others all raised their eyebrows. Johansson looked down at his feet, only to notice that it was his stomach making the noise. He sheepishly put the phaser back on the belt and realized that he hadn't eaten the entire time that he was here at the commissioning party.

So he walked over to the table full of food and took out his tricorder and began scanning the food as a crewman said:"Carefull, that food is toxic."

Johansson raised an eyebrow and before he could reply, the crewman mumbled that he was only kidding and started laughing.

"Can never be too careful, crewman", the Doc said, "Being paranoid to some extent helps me get better results in my work. I am only paranoid by procedure""

The crewman grinned and introduced himself. "John Simcoe, and I'd love to see you explain your paranoid nature to a Vulcan. I presume you are the Archer's Doc."

Johansson nodded and replied "Yes, and you seem to know quite a bit about me."

"I've read all about you, sir, sorry... Doc, and I'd just like to say that I think you should be careful if you plan on continuing some of your research aboard the ship. Being unorthodox, the captain will pretty much have your head if he ever finds out."

Johansson almost choked on his food as he heard what the crewman said and retorted, "Thanks for the advice, Simcoe, now I think you should perhaps run along now. There's a long day ahead of us tomorrow and I must prepare for the crew physicals, including yours, crewman." And with that, Johansson walked back towards Admiral Harrison.

"Admiral," Doc said, "I'd just like to remind you that crew physicals are being prepared and that the crew should be reminded to appear."
"Ahem, yes, you are right..." Harrison responded and stepped towards the podium to make an annoucement.

"Crew of the Archer, let me make one final announcement. Your Doc Johansson wants everyone to be reminded of the crew physicals. Remember, no show means a vital crew record." He stepped off the podium and nodded to Johansson.

"Well, I guess I better turn in, as I have quite a numbered crew to inspect", Johansson said.

"Very well," Harrison replied, "But let's keep in touch. We'll miss you at the facility. You've done a lot for mankind and for Starfleet and you'll never go forgotten."

Johansson tried to not look too sentimental, as he walked towards the exit of the mess hall and to the Medical Facilities for one last thing.

The Medical Facility was pretty dark now, as everyone was out in their beds or either at the ceremony, and this was the chance that Johansson had. And so he took it.

He looked at the thing and told it to be quiet, took its furry hand, and pressed the communicator on his chest, and said :"Johansson here, two to beam up." And with that, Johansson appeared on the transporter pads with a figure smaller than him at his side. It kept smiling at him, with an almost mischievous grin.

"What the hell are you doing with that?", the crewman at the transporter controls spoke. "You better not let the captain see that."

Johansson just nodded at the crewman and said "Just a pet. Everyone deserves a pet don't they? Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get to my quarters. Don't tell anyone about this." The thing looked at him expectantly at Johansson, and he reluctantly agreed to give him the banana he was holding. They then started off towards the nearest turbolift. "Deck 2'", he said.

[Mentat_Tir]

After Stirok beamed to the Archer, he immediately entered the turbolift.  “Engineering.”  The turbolift carried the engineer through the deck after deck, eventually slowing to a halt in the belly of the great ship.

The turbolift doors opened to pandemonium.  Spacedock engineers and the Archer’s own engineering teams bustled here and there making final preparations.  Tools and debris littered the floor.  As Stirok walked onto the engineering deck, he immediately noticed that the warp core was dark.

He caught the eye of a young lieutenant working at a data transfer conduit. “Commander Stirok?  But I wasn’t…that is…we weren’t, um, expecting you yet.”

“What is going on here, lieutenant..."

“Siegler, sir,” she extended a hand.  Stirok noticed it was smudged with synthetic material from a leaking bio-neural gel pack.  He decided not to shake.  Siegler noticed her hand and wiped it on her uniform.  She grinned shyly, “Oops, sorry.  We’re running a little behind schedule and…”

Stirok looked the young woman in the eye.  “I am already unsatisfied with your performance, lieutenant.  As the senior ranking officer, you should have been giving me regular status reports.”

The young woman was crushed.  Obviously her new chief wasn’t concerned with hurting her feelings.  “I apologize, sir.  I thought we’d be further along than we are.”

“That was not your place to make that judgment.  You will begin giving me a complete progress report, is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”  Stirok grew concerned and Siegler gave him the details of their progress.  After a few quick calculations, he realized that at the rate they were going, when Captain Jefferys gave the order to engage, the ships was just going to sit there.  Stirok knew it was going to be a long night...

[Ana_Ng]

Ensign Alia Kenek crawled out of bed at 0430 the next morning, tired and thrilled at the same time. She took a sonic shower and dressed quickly, and as she was standing in front of the mirror, attempting to make her strawberry blonde mass of curly hair obey her attempts to fix it, her roommate, Ensign Tammy Golko, was waking up as well.

"Good morning!" Alia said cheerfully, "Big day, huh?"

Ensign Golko nodded as she requested a cup of coffee from the replicator.  She looked at Kenek with approval.

"Glad to know you're also an early riser," she said, sitting down and taking a sip of her coffee.

Alia finally managed to pin her hair back successfully, and walked over to the replicator to order a cup of coffee for herself.

"Actually, I'm getting up a little earlier than usual this morning," Kenek confessed, "I want to make sure I don't get lost."

"First time on a Sovereign class starship?" Golko asked.

Alia nodded.  "And believe me, after meeting the security chief last night, I don't want to end up somewhere I'm not supposed to be."

Golko leaned back in her chair.  "What did you think of Commander Thram?"

"Very intimidating," Alia said, thinking back on the night before.  Thram's nearly seven foot would be enough to humble most people, but Alia, who barely stood at 5'2", had felt more dwarved than most.  "That being said, I'm glad he's the one in charge of my safety!" She laughed lightly as she took a sip of her coffee.

"He is a very thorough officer," Golko conceded.

"You're working under him, right?" Alia asked.  

Golko nodded.

"Hey, why weren't you at the party last night?  It was very interesting."

Golko finished her coffee and stood to prepare for the day ahead.  "I had much work to do here on the ship."

Alia nodded and walked over to gaze outside the window.  "And there's more work for all of us... out there."

Golko excused herself to take a sonic shower, and left Alia staring out the window in amazement.  She looked down at the small table next to the window and touched the small crystal sculpture she'd placed there the night before.  Jarid Kenek had made it over a hundred years earlier to visualize his experience of being joined, and simply called the small work of art "Kenek", a tribute to the symbiont he'd shared, and a token for every Kenek host who followed to carry with them.

As she ran her fingers across the lines of the sculpture, Alia closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and walked out the doors to her quarters, walking over to the nearest turbolift with joyous anticipation.

She stepped inside.  

"Bridge," she told the computer, and was soon on her way to her new adventure.

[Peter_Pevensie]

When the computer began playing the allegro assai from Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony at 0225 hours, Will Brandt was already awake, showered, dressed, and ready for the day.  “Computer, reduce volume by thirty percent,” he said without looking up from the PADD he was reading.  His desire to brush up on particle/wave sensor schematics had awakened him almost an hour before the alarm he had set the night before, and the adrenalin rush that always seemed to accompany the first day of duty on a new ship was keeping him pleasantly alert at this early hour.  He hummed along with the excellent tenor on the library computer’s recording of the Ode to Joy (was it perhaps Mal’tokh of the Quonos Imperial Orchestra?) and sipped from a cup of tea that the replicator had produced for him.

Funny, he thought, to still have “butterflies” before a big day at his age.  After all, at 57 years old, he had seen more “big days” than most of the crew put together.  A decorated combat veteran of the Cardassian and Dominion wars, Archer was his third spaceside posting.  Besides that, he had had a very successful and fulfilling academic career before he donned the Starfleet uniform.  And yet, the butterflies persisted.

He smiled to himself.  There was just something about a new ship, a new crew, a new chance to test yourself, a new chance to focus on the future and put the past behind you.  Since he’d lost Janice and Angie, he was always on the lookout for that kind of chance.

The unbidden appearance of that unwelcome train of thought broke him out of his cycle of introspection before it could become morbid, and he decided now would be a good time to leave for Engineering.  Thumbing the PADD off, he put his empty teacup back on the replicator pad and walked out the door toward the turbolift.  He would arrive in Engineering about fifteen minutes early, but he fully expected that Commander Stirok would have everything ship-shape and in order for the sensor calibrations when he arrived.

He knew he was wrong before the heavy doors to Main Engineering even opened.  For one thing, the usual steady hum in the deckplates, produced by the mutual annihilation of matter and antimatter deep within the warp core, was conspicuously absent.  The steady stream of power from the core to the warp coils seemed to have been replaced by a steady stream of harried crewmen and junior engineers up and down the corridor between the main ‘lift and the engineering section.  As he passed through the doors, the first thing he saw was Stirok, hovering over the master systems display with a stern but calm look on his face.  The platform on which the display stood was slightly raised above the rest of the room, giving Stirok the appearance of some Napoleonic general, spurring his troops on to miraculous achievements while maintaining a gentlemanly detachment from the entire affair.  Not wanting to get in the way, Will backed toward the wall of the cavernous room to wait for the team that would be performing the sensor calibrations.

[Peter_Pevensie]

The next thing he knew, he was laying on the floor in a jumble of wires and conduits, arms and legs.  “Sorry, sir,” came a voice from underneath him.  He hadn’t been watching his step and had backed into a crewman on his hands and knees working on an ODN hub in the floor.  He detached himself from the source of the voice, stood up, and helped his colleague (another lieutenant, it turned out) to his feet.

“Are you Lieutenant Brandt?” asked the young man.

“That’s right,” replied Will, “Sorry about all that.  How terribly clumsy of me.  I hope I didn’t set you back too far.”

“Not at all.  Steve Stoval,” the lieutenant said, holding out his hand.  It was stained with bio-neural gel and some other vital fluid from the Archer’s bowels, but Will took it anyway and shook it firmly.  “In fact, I’m glad you’re here.  You’ve rescued me from Purgatory.”

“Purgatory?” said Brandt.  He was aware of the ancient Earth cultural reference, but wasn’t sure how it fit Stoval’s situation.

“That’s what the engineering team has taken to calling Mr. Stirok’s engineering section:  Purgatory.  It’s not quite hell, but it’s far from heaven.”  Stoval grinned a boyish grin, and Will laughed.  “Since you’re here a little early, maybe Stirok will cut me loose to do the calibrations.”  The young lieutenant turned toward his chief engineer and shouted above the din.  “Commander Stirok?  Lieutenant Brandt is here, and I was thinking…”

“Yes, Mr. Stovol, you may be excused to perform the sensor calibrations.  However, I will require the services of your technical team here.  Are you capable of performing the task without them?”

Stovol hesitated for a barely noticeable moment before nodding.  “Yes, sir, no problem.”

Stirok only nodded, and Stovol wasted no time in heading for the doors.  “Let’s go,” he said to Brandt, and the two lieutenants made their way toward the forward sensor array internal access.

[Rhai]

After what seemed like a very long and restless night Rhai finally resolved to getting up and getting on with her day. It was only 0325 hours but she has things she wanted to get to before her day needed to start. She showered and combed through her nearly waist long auburn hair and decided to pull her hair back in a long braid. It wasnt something she was very found of, but she figured it wasnt going to help if she didnt look professional in her career. With the majority of the staff older than her, she could already feel that she was going to have to work to get their trust and to she needed that to be any use to the Archer and its crew. She dressed quickly and stood infront of her floor to ceiling mirror. She smiled at herself and straightened out her uniform, she knew she looked her best when in uniform and hoped atleast someone on board would notice it as well.
It wasnt that she was desperate for affection, more that she was starting to realize her age. She had never had the chance to make any type of personal life nor any real love interests in her 28 years so far and it didnt look like it would happen anytime soon either. With a sigh she shrugged her shoulders and her confidence returned. Now to get to buisness- she replicated herself a nice mocca and headed out towards the holodeck.