Star Trek: Mayweather
Stardate: 2381.77
USS Mayweather in Deep Space
The rumble of the ship’s engines soothed Commander Tucker’s mind and lulled him into a gentle sleep.
All week, while the ship was at high warp, he had maintained the ship’s engines, making sure that everything was in order. Given that USS Mayweather was one of the more advanced starships in the Federation fleet, that didn’t take much doing. Consequently, given the lack of recreational facilities aboard, the captain had given Tucker a secondary mission a few days earlier.
“Ah, come in Commander. I have something I want to discuss with you.”
Tucker eased into the captain’s ready room and took a seat.
“What can I do for you, Cap’n?” he asked in that soft southern drawl of his.
“Mayweather is a decent ship, but she’s a bit lacking, Commander.”
“How’s that, Cap’n? From what I’ve seen in engineering she’s the finest you could ask for in a ship of this size.”
“That she is, but unlike a larger vessel, she doesn’t have as much recreational space aboard.”
“Ya know, I had noticed. All we’ve got is a small rec room down on Deck 7. What do you want me to do, convert a cargo bay into a gymnasium?”
“Not quite. Look here.”
Captain O’Sullivan pulled out a PADD showing deck by deck layout of the ship. He pointed to a section of the schematics.
“Here, on Deck 3, is an auxiliary lab. Mayweather was originally designed as a science vessel, but our mandate is a little different. Right now we aren’t using it for anything, correct?”
“Right. I think Doc has borrowed some of it for medical storage.”
“Ah. No big deal. Now, here’s my idea: what would it take to convert that lab into a holo-suite?”
“Hmm. Not a bad idea, Cap’n. Off the top of my head, we’d have to replicate some more holo emitters and reconfigure the deck plating, but that shouldn’t be too hard. Mostly it just takes removing what’s in the lab. We’d also have to reconfigure this bulkhead here and here, to make the lab more a rectangle than a triangle.” His fingers indicated sections of the schematic.
“How long do you think it would take?”
“Should have it finished a day or two from Deep Space 15, sir. I’ll get a few teams on it right away.”
“Very good, Commander.”
And that was that. “Operation: Holo-Suite” was underway. For the engineer, it was a unique project. He had never reconfigured part of a starship before, and it was exciting. Most large ships had several full holo-decks, large cargo bay sized rooms devoted to creating holographic scenarios. Given Mayweather’s small size and original design specifications, scientific labs were deemed more important. She had another lab on the other side of Deck 3, opposite Sickbay, that was another general purpose science lab which should be plenty for whatever scientific missions the Powers That Be at Starfleet dreamed up for Mayweather and her crew. But this way, with a smaller, but still fully functional holo-suite, they would at last have a space to let off some steam from time to time, other than the general rec room at the bottom of the ship, which only held exercise equipment.
Given that he shared a room with Ensign Ford, the ensign knew about the changes before anyone. He and Tucker stayed up late that first night designing on PADDs and passing ideas back and forth. It was the start of a new relationship. At first they had butted heads over having to share quarters, and while Tucker still meant to discuss it with the Quartermaster, his initial disdain for a roommate faded in his excitement in building a holo-suite. Here was someone with whom to share his enthusiasm. Ford also had a bit of the writer bug in him, so he volunteered to create a few programs to install in the holo-suite database.
Therefore, while Tucker and his engineering crews realigned bulkheads, installed holographic emitters, swapped hull plating, and rerouted power conduits, Ford and a few of the operations staff configured part of the main computer to store holo-programs and the Ensign got about programming.
Tucker slept on, and in the morning did his rounds of engineering. Everything was in order, so he met, as was becoming usual, Ensign Ford in the Officer’s Mess on Deck 2. They sat at a table with a window into space and discussed holo-programs.
“What do you think about a scenario set in the ancient American West? I was thinking about setting up an old-style saloon, with poker tables. I know a few of the officers play cards, and several of the enlisted crew do as well. We could have regularly scheduled games.”
“Sounds terrific to me. I always did kinda want to be a cowboy. Yee-haw!” Tucker’s animated shout drew a few glances from the other officers.
“I know! How about a re-creation of the Enterprise bridge, you know, the original 1701. We could play Cap’n Kirk and explore the galaxy with his original bridge crew?”
Ensign Ford didn’t seem as convinced. “Or maybe the NX-01 and we could play as Captain Archer. I could even program a holographic beagle.” But thinking about that gave him an idea.
“Puppies!”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Everybody loves puppies. I should program a puppy nursery. I haven’t had a dog since I was a kid. That would be a great stress reliever for the crew.”
This time it was Commander Tucker’s turn to shake his head.
“Knock yerself out, Ensign. But I do like the idea of a Wild West saloon. Don’t ferget that one.”
“I won’t, sir.”
Tucker finished his coffee.
“Well, I should be getting back to it. Aren’t you due on the bridge?”
“Right, sir. See you at 1400. My shift ends on the bridge and I want to give a hand in the holo-suite.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
And with one thing leading to another, Tucker never did get to talk to the Quartermaster about getting his own room. Besides, now whenever he needed time to himself, all he had to do was schedule time in the almost finished holo-suite.
As promised, it was completed a day before the ship was to rendezvous with Deep Space 15. The senior officers gathered at the doors to the new Holo-Suite 1.
Captain O’Sullivan raised a glass of champagne.
“To Commander Tucker, and his hard working crew of engineers, and to Ensign Ford’s superb programming skills. I now declare Holo-Suite 1 open for business.”
The senior officers drained their glasses and stepped out of the USS Mayweather and into the ancient western Holliday Saloon.
The holographic bartender shouted out as they entered,
“What’ll it be, strangers?”
a simple man 