Star Trek: Mayweather
Stardate: 2381.71
USS Mayweather at Jupiter Station
It wasn’t until he reached Deck 4 that Lieutenant Commander James Tucker noticed anything awry. He was walking down the corridor from the turbolift, passing nothing but crew quarters.
“That’s odd.” he thought. The officers didn’t usually share a deck with the enlisted crew. He turned right, and continued walking past more crew quarters. He reached the end of the hall and made a left turn.
“Ah, here are larger quarters.” he murmured to himself. Reaching the end of hall he found his assigned berth. Pressing the door controls he walked forward – and walked into the door. It had failed to open. Instead the chime sounded, and from inside a muffled voice said, “Coming!” Seconds later, during which he stubbornly refused to massage his injured nose, the door opened on a fresh faced Ensign.
“Hello, sir. Sorry about that, I was just getting settled.”
Lt. Commander Tucker’s face showed every ounce of consternation he was feeling.
“I believe you are in my room, Ensign…?”
“Ford, sir. Whit Ford. I don’t think so, sir.” He craned his head out to look at the number posted on the wall. 409. “Yep. Quartermaster said I was on Deck 4, 9th berth.” He smiled, completely oblivious to Tucker’s mounting annoyance.
“Now that just can’t be right,” Tucker said, his voice carrying a Southern American twang. “Quartermaster just assigned me to 409.”
“Oh, well that makes sense.”
“Does it now?”
“Yes, sir. Why don’t you come in.”
Shouldering his bag, Tucker stepping into the room and looked around.
“I thought it was weird that there were two beds if this was a solo room.” Ensign Ford said. He gestured toward the middle of the room, past a bulkhead. There, instead of the regular single bed was indeed a pair of bunks, one atop the other.
“You gotta be kiddin’ me.”
“No, sir.” Ford walked over and resumed smoothing down the bedding on the top bunk. He had apparently just made up the bed. The bottom bunk had a set of sheets and blankets laid out, next to a few pillows, ready for the making.
“I’ll speak to the Quartermaster about this.” He tapped the commbadge affixed to his chest. “Commander Tucker to the Quartermaster.”
“Quartermaster here,” came the disembodied voice. “What can I do for you, Commander?”
“It seems you’ve made a mistake. Me and Mr. Ford here seem to be assigned the same quarters. What gives?”
“There is no mistake. Captain’s orders.”
“But the cap’n just got here!”
“I’m sorry commander, but you will have to room with Mr. Ford until I can talk to the captain and sort things out.”
“You gotta be kiddin’ me.” Tucker sighed loudly. “All right, Quartermaster. Tucker out.”
He turned to Ford.
“But I get the top bunk.”
For the first time Ford’s smile wavered. “But, sir, I already got the top bunk ready for me, sir.”
“To bad. I’m the ranking officer and I take the top bunk. Thanks for getting it ready for me, Ensign.”
“You’re welcome, sir.” Ford was no longer smiling. Instead he stooped and started to make the bottom bunk.
Through the intercom came the voice of Captain O’Sullivan.
“Attention crew of the Mayweather. This is Captain O’Sullivan. Report to your stations, we are about to depart Jupiter Station. Senior officers to the bridge.”
Ford jerked up, and smacked his head on the underside of the top bunk.
“Ow.” He rubbed the back of his head and scowled at Tucker, whose mood had instantly improved at the Ensign’s misfortune.
“Gotta go.” Tucker threw his bag onto the upper bunk and sauntered off.
“You know, this is my first time aboard a starship. I can’t wait to get underway.” “Mine too, sir.
He and Ford walked back down the corridors towards the turbolift before both paused somewhat suddenly.
“Wait, aren’t you the chief engineer?” Ford asked, clearly disturbed.
“Yeah-up, I am.”
“But you’ve never been in space.”
“Didn’t say that. Never been aboard a starship. Did my fleet rotation aboard Jupiter Station. But I taught at the academy for 8 years. Warp field operations and design.” He smiled, proud of his accomplishments.
“Oh. Good.” Ford sounded less than reassured. Stepping to, they both resumed their walk to the turbolift. Once there, they entered and indicated the bridge as their destination. The trip up only took a few seconds, and they entered the bridge from the right. Captain O’Sullivan was seated in the middle, next to the First Officer a woman named Zal and possessed of unnaturally long hair. Down at the helm was their felinoid pilot, M’Tel, orange fur resplendent in the lights of the bridge consoles and the glow from the view screen. Ensign Ford took up his station to the left of the helm, Main Starship Operations or Ops for short. Opposite him was the bridge engineering station, at which Lt. Commander Tucker sat. Behind the captain, at the Tactical station, stood an officer that Tucker knew by name only: Lt. Commander Sulkhan. Sulkhan had pale skin, white hair slicked back, and sprouting from his back, though kept folded back, a pair of feathered wings, mostly white, with a little black at the tips.
“That’s somethin’ you don’t see every day.” Tucker muttered. He checked his station. All systems normal. He said as much to his commanding officer.
“Engineering reports ready, Cap’n.”
“Thank you, Mr. Tucker.”
The captain keyed a command on his chair.
“Captain’s Log: Stardate Two Three Eight One Point Seven One. We are getting underway for Deep Space 15 to aid in repair and re-serviceing of the station.” With a keystroke he ended his log entry. Apparently O’Sullivan wasn’t one for long narrations.
“Helm, take us out. Retract all moorings, release the docking clamps. One quarter impulse power until we clear Jupiter Station.”
From M’Tel: “Aye, sir.”
“Commander Sulkhan, raise the shields.” That was an odd order, especially while in the heart of the Federation space.
From Sulkhan, a deep bass: “Aye, Captain. Shields at maximum.”
The view screen showed the curve of Jupiter off to the left and open space beyond.
“We are clear of Jupiter Station, Captain.”
“Plot a course for Deep Space 15, Lieutenant. Warp 7.”
“Course laid in, sir.”
“Engage.”
From his console, Lt. Commander Tucker watched his warp engines come online as power was shunted through relays to the warp nacelles. Ahead, on the view screen, stars changed from points of light to streaks.
The USS Mayweather vanished from Jupiter orbit into deep space with a twinkle of light.
a simple man 