So my proposition to the one person that may read this in the next few days is to give me a topic to write about. A person would think that after two years I would have something to say about anything, but alas my mind is as blank as a fresh canvas.

     Next time on “Mar’s Corner” … Me writing about …something.

My biggest complaint is that there is NO character development.  Even by the end of the movie, it doesn’t feel like there’s any sense of serious family, or even comradery, between Ang, Katara and Sokka.  The movie makers tried to abbreviate over 8 hours worth of entertainment (the first season) into just 100 minutes.

On a related note, the movie had so little time to pack in so much material that a few scenes were voiced over by Katara’s character to literally summarize what they didn’t have time to show.  “This character and this character quickly became close friends.”  Also, there was a very short (I’m guessing like 15 seconds short!) montage of Ang protecting villages, and then the antagonist makes mention of “those times you defended those villages.”  … Really?

Don’t get me wrong – this movie had potential; it probably would have made for a good story if it had been made into two movies rather than one.  Unfortunately, the fact that this *could* have been a good movie saddens me all the more.

While sitting in the theater, I thought to myself that, if I had no knowledge of the animated series, its possible I may have considered walking out of this movie.  As it is, I got up to use the restroom in the middle of it, checked my watch and thought, “Ugh, its only been an hour.”  My friends joked they thought I had completely left the theater.

Here’s some comments of this movie as compared to the show – no need to worry about spoilers, even if you haven’t seen all of the first season.

This is NOT a lighthearted movie. Ang never laughed; he smiled only once in the whole movie – and unfortunately, that is *not* an exaggeration.

Some characters were better portrayed than others.  Serious-Katara was well done, and I felt Zuko was portrayed well, but it was also odd because the movie seemed more like *his* story rather than Ang’s.

Sokka’s character was nothing like his animated counterpart.

Most of the names were not pronounced as they were in the series, which really bothered me.

And it turns out Momo was literally an afterthought.  They filmed a scene after the fact to introduce him, but in all his other scenes, he was CGed in only after fans complained he wasn’t going to be in the movie.

But Appa was cool.

I’ll say that, if you’re a fan of the series and want to see Avatar: The Last Airbender, I won’t hold it against you.  But don’t say I didn’t warn you.  But if you can help it, don’t spend money on this movie.

Grade: D-

That’s right.  If this was class, Shyamalan would have to do it all over again.  And frankly, this deserved to be a much better movie.

“Confirmed, sir! Two B’rel-class Birds-of-Prey decloaking to aft! Initiating evasive maneuvers.” Cazeash’s hands darted about his console as he fought to manually steer the ship. With the Falcon’s automation systems disabled, he would have to perform everything himself. Behind him, Captain Campbell bolted to his command chair while barking orders.

“Red Alert! Shields up! Stand by to return fire!”

At the Ops station, their Vulcan Executive Officer, Lieutenant T’Eama calmly reported on their attackers’ status. “They are powering weapons and engaging, Captain.” Cazeash could almost respect her collected attitude in an intense situation. Except for the fact that she was just another stuffy Vulcan. As far as himself, he was exhilarated. Finally, he was able to taste some real action.

“Stahlman,” the Captain continued, “see if you can monitor their communications. Cazeash, lock phasers on the lead ship’s engines. Let’s see if we can disable them.”

Cazeash shook his head emphatically. “Not happening, sir! Without automation, I can’t lock on!”

“Right.” Campbell mumbled something he couldn’t make out, but it didn’t sound positive. “Guess you’ll just have to use your best guess, Ensign.”

“The Klingons have opened fire. Torpedoes incoming.” At T’Eama’s warning, Cazeash slammed the Falcon hard to starboard and started pulling the ship about. If they were to have any chance of winning, he needed to bring their torpedo launchers in line with the attackers. He could feel the ship vibrate as disruptor fire peppered their shields.

“Return fire!”

Cazeash smiled as he activated his targeting program and lined up a shot on one of the enemy ships. He had configured his implant’s Head’s-Up-Display to double as a manual targeting system, but hadn’t had the time to properly test it. Shifting his head, Cazeash centered his sights on the underside of his target as it tried to pass along their port side. With a simple mental command, he sent a burst from both of the Falcon’s phaser arrays. The enemy vessel’s shields lit up from the impact, and it banked away. “Direct hit, sir!”

“Nice shooting, Ensign! T’Eama, give me an update!”

“Direct hit confirmed. Enemy shields at sixty percent. Minor hull damage.” Had his implant been working perfectly, Cazeash would have been able to tell that himself. However, the interference from the kinoplasmic radiation had forced him to tone down the amount of data streaming to him. He sent the ship over a large asteroid and felt the ship shudder from more disruptor fire.

“Good. Stahlman, damage report!”

“Shields at ninety percent. No casualties and no hull damage, sir.”

“Looks like the new shields are performing perfectly. They even held up against the those torpedoes.”

“Actually,” T’Eama interrupted, “the torpedoes missed us entirely, Captain. They are continuing along their last trajectories. The enemies are now moving to attempt a flanking maneuver, sir.”

“Interesting. Cazeash, keep up the fire on your last target and see if you can’t get us into a pursuit course on one. Fire torpedoes when ready.”

“Aye, sir.” His target was now below them, having rolled away from the last shot, and slipping under to intercept them to starboard. The other ship was still behind them, slightly to port, continually firing their disruptors. Cazeash rolled to starboard and angled the nose down while repeatedly firing the phasers. Almost every shot hit its mark, and he could tell their enemy’s shields were quickly collapsing. His target was wounded, and he was ready to finish them off.

Calculating speeds, trajectories, and distances in the blink of an eye, Cazeash adjusted his aim and released a pair of proton torpedoes. A moment later, both torpedoes struck their target, ripping through the remaining shields and detonating against the hull. Then, in a blinding flash, the Bird-of-Prey exploded, sending debris in every direction.

Seeing his first kill, Cazeash let out a shout of triumph. “Ha! Gotcha, you damn clam-heads!”

“Cut it out, Ensign. It was a good shot, but celebrate later.” Campbell didn’t sound too pleased with him, but the captain could shove it right now. Cazeash’s adrenaline was pumping, and the thrill of victory was tingling his every nerve. “T’Eama, how are we doing?”

“One attacker remaining. They have moved into pursuit position three-point-six kilometers to aft and they are matching our every move. They fired another torpedo a moment ago, but the shot was wide, sir. It would appear that the kinoplasmic radiation has forced the Klingons to operate without automation, as well.”

“Cazeash, can you shake him?”

He sent the Falcon into a series of wild dives, rolls and turns, trying to lose the Klingon ship. However, after checking his displays, he noticed that the Bird-of-Prey was still securely behind them. “Nope, they’re still on us.”

“Okay, I have an idea.” The captain came to stand behind him. “Keep firing our aft phasers at him, but concentrate on flying. Head straight ahead into the thickest part of the asteroid field.”

“Sir,” T’Eama interjected, “at these velocities, without automation, the probability of successfully navigating an asteroid field is approx-”

Campbell quickly cut her off. “I don’t care about the odds, Lieutenant. Besides, I have every confidence in our helmsman, here.”

He knew the Vulcan was right. By his own estimation, this sort of stunt would be suicide for any normal pilot. But, Cazeash was well aware of how far from normal he was. “Yes, sir! Going in!” With a wide grin, he set course for the center of the asteroid field and pushed the thrusters up to full power. At every opportunity, he let loose a burst from the phasers to keep the Klingons interested in their prey.

But, dodging giant space rocks soon became a full-time job. As the field grew thicker and more chaotic, Cazeash was forced to pull tight maneuvers he barely thought possible in a starship of this size. Sometimes, the inertial compensators could barely keep up, causing the crew to stagger about. A close impact deflected off of the shields, causing a large bounce that knocked a few crew members to the floor. Sparks shot from one of the wall panels.

“C’mon, Cazeash. Keep us in one piece!”

“Yeah, I’m trying!” A quick check of his rear display showed the Klingons were still behind them. Their pilot was good, but Cazeash knew he was better. Looking ahead, he noticed a pair of very large asteroids on a collision course with one another. Again, rapidly running calculations in his head, Cazeash diverted extra power to the engines and surged towards their impact point.

“Um, Ensign, you do know those two asteroids are going to hit each other, right?”

“Well aware of it, Captain.” On the main view screen, the two asteroids loomed large and imposing. As the three of them approached one another, Cazeash rolled the Falcon and slipped right between them.

The Klingon ship was not so lucky. It bounced off of one asteroid, careened into the other, and was suddenly caught as the two rocks collided. As the Bird-of-Prey was crushed, it detonated, shattering both asteroids in a brilliant explosion.

A cheer went up from the bridge as Cazeash whipped the ship around and headed out of the asteroid field. Captain Campbell clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Now that’s what I call flying. See? I knew I wanted you on this ship for a reason. Get us back out of this mess.”

“Yes, sir!” Cazeash beamed with pride. At last, he had shown what he could do. Maybe those idiots at Starfleet Command would finally take notice of his talents. Behind him, Campbell was back to business.

“Stahlman, were you able to get anything off of their communications?”

“One encrypted message, sir. But, more importantly, I was able to determine a direction for their transmission. Assuming their systems are as inhibited as ours, they were probably communicating with somebody close by.”

“Well, then, let’s go take a look.”

To be continued . . .

__________________________________________________________________________

“Star Trek: On the Line” is a Star Trek Online fan-fiction series by Collin “Cade” Spencer.

Star Trek online is produced by Cryptic Studios in association with Atari. Star Trek is a trademark and copyright of CBS Studios, Inc.

“Cazeash, what’s our ETA?” Campbell got up from his command chair and moved to stand behind his helmsman.

“Forty-six minutes and twenty-eight seconds, sir.” The response came without so much as a glance at the console. Had it come from most other humanoids, Campbell would have questioned the accuracy of the statement without confirmation. But, considering Cazeash’s mental acuity combined with his cybernetic implant, there should be no need to double check.

“Thank you, Ensign.” He contemplated the view screen for a moment, thinking about the mission. Kinoplasmic radiation was known to have adverse affects on computer systems. If everything went as planned, the mission would take less than an hour with only some minor difficulties. On the other hand, they could end up stranded and unable to call for help. He decided that he needed to double check their preparedness. Campbell tapped his combadge. “Captain to Lieutenant Hernandez.”

“Hernandez here, sir.”

“Jose, meet in my ready room for a last minute briefing.”

“Yes sir. On my way.” There was a hint of annoyance in the Chief Engineer’s voice. No doubt he had been in the middle of something. But, if it had been important, Jose would have said something.

“T’Eama?” Campbell walked over to his Vulcan executive officer. She was running some kind of computation on her science console, but turned away from it to face him.

“Captain?”

“To my ready room. I’d like to go over everything one more time.”

“Yes sir.”

Campbell placed Lieutenant Stahlman in charge as he and T’Eama crossed the bridge to his office. Sitting at his desk, he invited his friend to sit down. “So, tell me again what we know about kinoplasmic radiation.”

“As you wish, Captain.” She cocked an eyebrow and continued without much hesitation. “We know very little about it. On Stardate 48892.1, the U.S.S. Voyager encountered a spatial anomaly in the Delta Quadrant that was releasing the radiation. It caused numerous malfunctions in their computer systems, most notably with their EMH program. Since then, Starfleet has devoted resources to study the radiation in hopes of counteracting its effects.”

Campbell nodded. All of that came out of the report he had read, but it was good to hear it again. “Right, and it’s those very effects that are the reason we’re out here.”

“In a sense, yes. With the debilitating effects of the radiation, Starfleet was forced to send probes into the Kinjer System’s asteroid belt after it had been discovered there. Unfortunately, the radiation blocks long-range sensors and long-range communications.”

“Yep,” sighed Campbell. “So we go in, download the probes’ data up close, and jump out. Then we transmit everything back to Command. Problem is, we’ll be at the radiation’s mercy the whole time. Right?”

“Metaphorically speaking, that would be a sufficient analysis, sir.” At that moment, the door chimed.

“Come on in.” With that, the door opened and Lieutenant Hernandez entered the room. “Just in time, Jose. Have a seat. Are we ready to enter the Kinjer asteroid field?”

Taking the other seat in front of the desk, Hernandez shrugged. “As ready as we can be. Given what we know of the radiation’s properties, our computer systems could be worthless. I’ve set up a protocol that takes most of the ship’s artificial intelligence systems offline once we enter the field. According to our simulations, downloads from the probes will take longer but I don’t see any catastrophic malfunctions. All other automation will be at a bare minimum of efficiency, but it should mean we won’t be in trouble.”

T’Eama cocked her head slightly and gave the engineer a sidelong glance. “And should we run into any trouble, our response times will be severely reduced.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly have the time to run the whole crew through new training drills. If we could take a whole week, we might be able to get a little faster. If you ask me, we shouldn’t risk the ship for this.”

Crossing her arms, T’Eama stared at Jose. “I do not believe that we have the-”

“Lieutenants!” Campbell had to interrupt. He could see that Jose was irritated, and he also knew that T’Eama’s posture meant she was prepared for an argument. The last thing he needed was for two of his senior officers to fight over this. “That’s enough. I’m sure we’ll be able to adapt to whatever happens. Return to your posts.”

The two officers nodded and quietly left the room. Stepping over to his replicator, Campbell ordered a some Bolian tonic water. Taking the glass, he moved to the view port and watched the stars. He understood Jose’s objections. The ship was so new, the crew had barely just learned how to work it. Now, they would be forced to work without automation.

The argument that almost ignited had also underscored another issue. This was the crew’s first mission together. They had no common experience to draw upon to trust one another. It was his job to hold it all together. An untried crew, an untried ship, and an untried captain.

Nearly lost in his thoughts, Campbell was startled by T’Eama’s voice informing him that they had arrived, and were about to enter the asteroid field. Acknowledging her, he finished his tonic water and quickly returned to the bridge. Sitting down in his command chair, he signaled Engineering. “Stand by to enter the Kinjer asteroid field. Hernandez, activate your protocol.” Closing the channel, he nodded at his helmsman. “Take us in at one quarter impulse.”

“Aye, sir.” As they pushed forward, Campbell noticed some of the console displays flickering. Cazeash suddenly shook his head. “Gah! I knew it!”

“Is something wrong, Ensign?” The last thing they needed right now was for their helmsman to have a problem in the middle of an asteroid field.

“No. I’m fine, I’m fine. Stupid radiation is messing with my implant. It’s like looking through a fogged-up window.” Cazeash reached up and tapped a few buttons on the side of his implant. When it seemed that he wasn’t pleased, he quickly slapped it twice. “I’ve compensated, I think. Don’t worry, I promise not to crash us into anything, sir.”

“I’ll make sure to note your promise in my log, Ensign. T’Eama, status report.”

“Automation systems are at minimal settings. Long-range sensors are offline. However, no malfunctions detected. I am now scanning for the probes.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Ensign Stahlman, communications’ status?”

The large man tapped his console a few times and shook his head. “Too much interference, sir. We probably won’t get a signal out past a thousand kilometers.” Campbell nodded in acknowledgment and sat in silence. He had expected as much, but it was still good to know.

After a few minutes of waiting, Campbell turned to T’Eama. “Any progress, Lieutenant?”

“Captain, this is curious. I cannot find the probes at all. According to Starfleet’s records, the probes should be here. But, I find no evidence of the probes’ existence.”

“That’s strange. Maybe the radiation messed with their navigation and they’ve wandered off course. Look for particle emissions. We might be able to trace where they went.”

“Yes, sir. I was just about to suggest doing just that. Scanning for emissions.” After another minute of manual scanning, T’Eama looked up with both eyebrows raised. “I’ve found their emission trails, sir. But, mysteriously they simply end. There is no debris. They simply vanished.”

“Keep scanning. See if you can find anything else out of the ordinary.” There had to be a reason for the probes disappearing.

“Captain,” T’Eama said, cautiously. “I’m reading tachyon emissions approximately seven kilometers behind us. I am certain they were not there a few minutes ago.”

“Tachyon emissions? Identify the source.”

Suddenly, T’Eama’s head shot up from her console. “Two Klingon Birds-of-Prey decloaking behind us!”

To be continued . . .
__________________________________________________________________________

“Star Trek: On the Line” is a Star Trek Online fan-fiction series by Collin “Cade” Spencer.

Star Trek online is produced by Cryptic Studios in association with Atari. Star Trek is a trademark and copyright of CBS Studios, Inc.

Just so you know where I’m coming from, I enjoyed the original 1981 version of the movie for what it was.  Don’t get me wrong, the visual effects were pretty darn bad even for the ’80s, but that aside, it was a well-told story.  This newest retelling of the story seems very … rushed.  It only runs 106 minutes.  Uh, that’s less than two hours!  There simply isn’t enough time to properly tell the story, so this movie did not have time enough to reach its full potential.  Unfortunately for me, this doesn’t make me scoff at the movie, but I lament that its makers didn’t give it the full time it deserved.

A friend of mine commented that the movie didn’t take itself too seriously.  In this case, combined with its short running time, it hurt the level of awesome this movie could have achieved.  The writing could have been better; certain characters never got used to their full potential, and Hades … well, while his special effects were BAD ASS, he spent most of his time on camera sort of slinking about.  More like Wormtongue l from Lord of the Rings.  Its just a matter of opinion, but I didn’t much like the portrayal of Hades; I would imagine the lord of the Underworld to have a much stronger presence.

Finally, this version of Clash suffers from an over-use of “shaky cam”.  I understand its use as a story-immersion tactic and, when well executed, I have no problem with it whatsoever.  But when there’s an action sequence and its unsteadiness makes me want to look at anything but the screen, its poorly implemented.  Plus, because most of the enemies are CG or in makeup, it would be nice to get a better look at them.

Despite its flaws, I still find Clash to be an enjoyable movie and I’m definitely glad that I got to see it on the big screen; you should do the same.

A for action, B for visuals, and C for storytelling.  So I guess:

Overall Grade: B-

Strolling along the corridor, Christopher Campbell ran his hands over the smooth surface of the walls. He marveled at the efficiency of the engineers. In just under two months, they had completely repaired the wrecked hulk of a ship that was over half of a century old. Every system was brand new and state of the art. By all rights, the Falcon was a new ship, fresh off of the assembly line, and unlike any other Starfleet vessel.

The man chiefly responsible for the new ship, Lieutenant Imjim Mott, walked next to Campbell, smiling and admiring his handiwork. Over the past six weeks, Imjim had designed and supervised every aspect of the Falcon’s refit. He even took the time to oversee the new crew’s training on the ship’s systems. Campbell had no clue to when his friend had found the time to sleep.

Together, they walked in silence, on their way to the transporter room. Looking at his friend, he could see a hint of sadness behind the wide grin.

“You gonna be sad to see her go?”

“No,” Imjim replied while gently shaking his head. He took a sideways glance back at Campbell and sighed, his grin melting into a more somber expression. “Well, maybe just a little bit. Actually, I just wish I could go with you.”

“Really?” Campbell chuckled. “Right, and give up a prestigious design position with the Corps of Engineers? I don’t think so.” Designing starships had been Imjim’s dream. Giving that up to go gallivanting across the stars would be ridiculous.

“Well, she’s my baby. I rebuilt her from the ground up for this mission.”

“That you did. So, if I offered you the chance to transfer here, would you?” Having Imjim serve as the chief engineer would be invaluable. No one knew the ship better than him. Lieutenant Hernandez was proving to be a talented engineer and confident leader, but having another friend aboard would have been a serious boon.

“To tell you the truth, not a chance. You’re right. I’d be stupid to give up my current assignment. As much as I want to go, I’ve found where I belong.” They reached the transporter room and walked inside. Chief Womack greeted them with a nod, and invited Imjim step up to the transporter pad with a simple gesture.

“I had to ask, you know,” said Campbell, as he shook his friend’s hand.

“Right. Oh, I almost forgot.” Imjim released his hand and reached down into one of his bags. “I got something for you. To commemorate this whole thing.” From the bag, he pulled a tall, glass bottle filled with a dark red liquid. With both hands, he ceremoniously presented it to Campbell. “Hope you like it.”

Taking the bottle, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he inspected the label. “Chateau Picard, 2391! You shouldn’t have. Seriously. Is this real?”

“I’m glad you like it,” Imjim laughed. “And, yeah, it’s the genuine article. No replicators involved.”

“How did you manage to get your hands on it?” Wine from the ambassador’s vineyard in France was a heavily sought after item.

“I have a relative who used to know the ambassador. I just called in a favor.” Imjim stepped onto the transporter pad. “Oh, and speaking of favors. Could you do one for me?”

“Anything, my friend.”

“I put a lot of sweat into this ship. Take good care of her.”

“Count on it.”

“Thanks. Good luck, Chris.”

“You, too.” Campbell looked at Womack and nodded. “Energize.” She tapped her controls, activating the transporter. Imjim was surrounded in shimmering light, and two seconds later, had completely vanished. Looking at the console, he noted that Spacedock confirmed a successful receiving of his friend. “Thanks, Chief. Ready to head out?”

“You better believe it, Captain,” the petite blonde said with a smile.

“Well, it’s time.” With that, he turned and left the room, heading for the bridge. Stepping onto the turbolift, he thought back over the events of the past three months. He and his friends had just graduated from Starfleet Academy, each going their separate ways. Assigned as the Ops officer aboard the Falcon, he had barely served in that capacity before the Battle of Vega Colony. Out of necessity, he had taken command and helped win the battle. For that, Admiral Quinn had promoted him and placed him in command of the Falcon.

All things being equal, Campbell would rather have continued to serve at Ops. Sometimes, just thinking about his new responsibilities made him nervous. Right now, he felt like he was coiled up tighter than a spring. But, there were a number of people that trusted him. And, more than that, they believed in him. He was not about to let any of them down.

Just before the lift doors opened, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and exhaled slowly. He felt his shoulders relax and the tension left his gut. His crew needed to see him confident, and he was determined to show them that. When he heard the doors part, his eyes snapped open and he strode from the lift with his chin held high.

“Captain on the bridge!” Ensign Stahlman shouted, snapping to attention. The rest of the crew immediately followed suit. Campbell swept his gaze around the room. Each and every person on the bridge stood as rigid as if they were on the parade ground. They looked confident and eager. All except for T’Eama, his friend and executive officer, who’s emotionless expression was almost comforting.

“As you were.” The bridge crew quickly relaxed and went back about their business. Campbell turned towards T’Eama, who was now seated at Ops. “Status report, Lieutenant.”

Looking up from her console, T’Eama responded with her typical efficiency. “All systems fully operational and on stand-by. Yard command has confirmed that we’ve cleared all moorings, and dock control reports ready, sir.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” She acknowledged him with a slow nod and continued her work. Campbell turned towards the small, green man sitting at the forward command console. “Mister Cazeash, helm status?”

Without turning, the alien blurted a rapid reply. “Helm ready and orbital departure already on plot, sir.”

“Very good, Mister. Maneuvering thrusters.”

“Maneuvering thrusters, ready.”

“Hold station.”

“Aye, sir.” Campbell was sure he could sense irritation in the alien’s response. Cazeash was practically chomping at the bit to get under way. “Maneuvering thrusters at station-keeping.”

“Ensign Stahlman, patch me in to the rest of the ship.”

“Yes, sir.” A moment later, he heard the beep indicating that the channel was open.

“This is your captain speaking. In a matter of moments, we’ll be embarking upon a great quest. A quest of discovery. A quest for knowledge and understanding. A quest into the unknown. Starfleet command has asked us to take up the time-honored tradition of exploration. We will be putting everything on the line to boldly go where no one has gone before. I can’t promise that it will be safe, or even easy. But, I can promise that we will all learn to trust, and have faith, in each other. I have the utmost confidence in this crew, and I look forward to serving with all of you. Now, all hands stand by for departure.”

He was no fan of making speeches, but he felt that he had made a decent one. He would rather have chosen not to speak, but tradition demanded it. Plus, he had been told, it would help to boost the morale of the crew. He turned his attention back to his helmsman.

“Ensign Cazeash, thrusters ahead full.”

“Yes, sir. Thrusters at full, leaving dry dock.” The ship vibrated subtly as it pushed forward. After a few moments, Cazeash glanced over his shoulder. “We’ve cleared dry dock, sir. Establishing a standard Earth orbit.”

“Very good, Ensign.”

“Captain?” Ensign Stahlman looked up from his his station. “Incoming message from Starfleet Command, sir.”

“Onscreen.” An image of Admiral Quinn appeared on the forward view screen. “Admiral. Here to give us a personal send-off?”

“In a sense, Mister Campbell. Ready for a little shake-down cruise?”

“Ready and willing, Admiral.”

“Good. I have a little mission for you. I need you to head to the Kinjer System and retrieve some probe data. I’m transmitting the details to you now.”

“We’ll get right on it, sir.” This, of course, meant that their mission to the Delta Volanis Cluster would have to wait. But, this would allow them to work out any bugs in the new systems. His mother had always told him that every cloud had a silver lining. Here, at least, he could see the truth of that old axiom.

“Good luck, Campbell.”

“Thank you, Admiral. Take care, sir.” At that, the transmission ended, and the view returned to an image of space. “Helm, set course for the Kinjer System. Warp five.”

“Course plotted. Standing by.”

“Engage.”

To be continued . . .
__________________________________________________________________________

“Star Trek: On the Line” is a Star Trek Online fan-fiction series by Collin “Cade” Spencer.

Star Trek online is produced by Cryptic Studios in association with Atari. Star Trek is a trademark and copyright of CBS Studios, Inc.

The ship was certainly new. But, it was small, and it looked fragile. Had Cazeash designed the ship, he would have made it intimidating to look upon. It would have been larger, more durable looking, and bristling with weapons arrays. Of course, if he had been designing ships for Starfleet, they would be winning this war.

Instead, Cazeash was stuck flying shuttles around Spacedock. That was until he had been assigned to the Falcon. Now, he stood on the bridge, just outside of the captain’s ready room. He was not sure exactly why he was here, but he estimated an eighty-three-point-four-seven percent chance he had received another disciplinary transfer. Reaching up, he pressed the door’s call button.

“Come in,” came the voice of a human inside. Humans annoyed him immensely. They were idealistic fools content with living lives dedicated to peace. On top of that, they designed all of their ships with only their own physiologies in mind, which made almost everything too big for him. However, were it not for humans, no one would have accepted him.

He entered the Ready Room and walked up to the desk. Seated behind it, was Lieutenant Campbell, the captain of the vessel. Campbell stood in greeting. “Welcome aboard, Ensign Cazeash.” He waved to a chair in front of the desk. “Please, have a seat.”

Cazeash hopped into the seat and glared across the desk at his new captain. So far, he wasn’t impressed. Just like all the other humans in Starfleet, this one was soft and too interested in protocol. Campbell sat back down, and stared back for a couple of seconds before continuing. “You’re undoubtedly wondering why you’re here. Right?”

“That would be a correct assumption, Captain. But, I can guess.” For the last five years, he had never been promoted and had served in nineteen positions. No one wanted him around for very long, so he was always being transferred.

“I requested you.” Cazeash cocked his head, his antennae twitching in confusion. That could not be right. In his entire history with Starfleet, no one had requested him. The captain must have made a mistake.

“Why?”

“The new systems on the Falcon are some of the most advanced in Starfleet. I need top quality helmsmen, navigators, and tactical officers to run them properly. But, because we’re at war I can’t get that many people. Your qualifications are off the charts.” Campbell reached down and picked up a PADD from the desk. “At the Academy, you had the highest marks of any cadet in mathematics, engineering, weapons training, tactics, navigation, and piloting. You set records in marksmanship and piloting that no cadet has broken since. Plus, thanks to that piece of hardware stuck to your head, you can interact with just about any computer system. I need someone like you.”

“Do you not question why I did not graduate at the top of my class?”

Campbell set down the PADD and exhaled slowly. “No, I know why. You have a very, very long list of disciplinary problems. Starting fights, disobeying orders, and an argumentative personality. One ship’s counselor even called you a sociopath. You have a problem with authority?”

“Only when they’re wrong.” Which was often. In his experience, the people in charge had no idea what they were doing. If he disagreed, he let them know.

“I encourage open opinions, but you will follow orders. I won’t tolerate insubordination. Understood?”

“Understood, sir.” Cazeash got the impression that this human had a tough streak. Which gave him more backbone than he was used to in most humans. The captain gave him an appraising look.

“But, starting fights? Seriously? How big are you?”

“I am one-point-one-nine-four-four meters in height, and I weigh thirty-seven-point-six-eight-one kilograms . . . approximately. And, yes, that includes the weight of my cranial implant.” Humans always judged him by his size, which was almost as annoying as their idealism. “My opponents always had it coming to them. And, I always won my fights. As your people say, brains over brawn.”

“I’m sure.”

“Now, may I go, sir? If I’m to pull triple duty as the Falcon’s primary helm, navigation, and tactical officer, I’ll need to sync my implant to the ship’s automation systems. That will exponentially increase my efficiency.” He was tired of talking with the captain, and the sooner he could sync with the ship’s computer, the better.

“Right. Report to Lieutenant Hernandez in main engineering. Dismissed.” Hopping from his seat, Cazeash turned and marched out of the ready room. Crossing the bridge, he pondered his new situation. No one had ever wanted him under their command. The captain was either desperate or a fool. Probably a little of both.

As the turbolift doors opened, Cazeash scurried around a Vulcan woman in a science uniform. As the doors closed, he noticed the woman watching him, one of her eyebrows raised. Cazeash shook his head. The pretentiousness of Vulcans could be even more annoying that humans.

* * *

The little, green man had whipped past her so suddenly, T’Eama had barely been able to get a good look at him. She had never seen a being quite like him before. But, whatever his species, her concerns lay elsewhere.

Traversing the bridge, she observed the panels and consoles. Each one used the latest in Starfleet technology. She could easily appreciate their utilitarian design. Reaching the ready room, she pressed the call button.

“Come in.” She entered the ready room and saw that Campbell was engrossed with some schematics on his private terminal. “What can I do for you, crewman?” he said, without looking up.

“Permission to come aboard, sir?”

His chin came forward as his head jerked up in surprise. “T’Eama! What are you doing here?”

“I requested a transfer to your command after word of your accomplishments reached me.” She raised an eyebrow. “And, you still have not answered my question, sir.”

“Absolutely, permission granted.” Campbell got up from his chair, and came around the desk to stand in front of her. He was smiling and laughing gently. Evidently, he was amused. There was certainly nothing jovial about her arrival, but humans did laugh at the oddest things. Humor was a difficult concept. “So, what have you been up to?”

“After graduating at the top of our class at the Academy, I was promoted to Lieutenant Junior Grade and assigned to Starfleet Command as a liaison to the Vulcan Science Academy. I was the highest ranked member of our graduating class. Now, you are.”

“Do I detect some hurt pride?”

“Merely an observation, sir.” He was trying to illicit an emotional response from her. Not to be unexpected. Ever since they had met, he had tried, knowing very well that he would never succeed. She had learned long ago to stop reminding him that she was a Vulcan, as it never dissuaded him.

“Why leave behind such a good opportunity?” It was a good question. One that she had pondered on her entire trip back to Earth. Being assigned to Starfleet Command was enough of an honor. But, to work with the Science Academy was one of the greatest of honors for any Vulcan. To many, leaving would seem extremely illogical.

“It was logical, captain.”

“Logical? How so?” Apparently, he was not going to let the issue go.

“Your mission is to chart unexplored regions of space. You will need the best available science officer. I am the most qualified officer available. And, if I am not mistaken, you have yet to select an executive officer. Am I correct?”

“You’re correct.”

“You need someone that you can trust. Someone that understands you, sir. Therefore, I offer myself as a candidate for your executive officer.”

“You’re right.” Campbell nodded and his expression turned serious. “I need you here, T’Eama. So, I accept. Thank you.” He extended his hand, and she took it after a slight hesitation. The act of shaking hands still felt very alien to her.

“No thanks are necessary, sir.”

Campbell tapped his commbadge. “Ensign Stahlman, please report to my ready room.”

“Yes, sir.” After a moment, a large, muscular human man stepped into the ready room. “You needed me, captain?”

“Please see the Lieutenant to her quarters. She’s our new First Officer, so make sure she gets the right accommodations.”

“Yes, sir. Right this way, Lieutenant.”

* * *

After taking the Vulcan Lieutenant to her quarters, Wade Stahlman took a stroll around the ship. He was still learning the layout of the Falcon, which was unacceptable for the chief of security. He needed to know the ship like the back of his hand. He decided he should perform a floor-by-floor sweep to improve his familiarity.

His father had been a peace officer on Alpha V Colony, and had always instilled the idea that knowing one’s surroundings was a key to defense. Wade’s training as a Starfleet security officer only strengthened that idea.

Deck Two held the briefing room and the Officer’s Lounge. Below that, on Deck Three, were the officers’ quarters, stellar cartography, and deflector control. Deck Four held main engineering’s upper level and the transporter center. Deck Five, the Falcon’s largest floor, contained the crew lounge, recreation areas, the VIP quarters, and main engineering’s lower level. Deck Six held the sick bay, laboratories, hydroponics, the shuttle bay, and the ship’s computer core. Also, filling Deck’s Three through Six, were the crew’s quarters.

Continuing down through each floor, Wade stopped to occasionally check with various personnel. He wanted to make sure everyone knew who he was, and that they trusted him. Their safety was his responsibility. The last ship he had served aboard, the U.S.S. Renown, had been destroyed at Vega Colony. He had nearly been killed, but thanks to Captain Campbell, he was rescued and spent a week aboard a hospital ship.

When word got around that Campbell was taking over the Falcon, Wade jumped at the chance. It was a rare opportunity to serve under the man that saved your life. He would not let the man down.

Moving to the next floor down, Deck Seven, Wade inspected the emergency bridge, brig, armory, and auxiliary transporter room. Finally, on Decks Eight and Nine, were the cargo bays.

Completing his walk, Wade returned to the bridge, the only real feature of Deck One. Returning to his security console, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. In just over a week, they would be setting out for the stars, and Ensign Wade Stahlman was ready.
________________________________________________________________________________
“Star Trek: On the Line” is a Star Trek Online fan-fiction series by Collin “Cade” Spencer.

Star Trek online is produced by Cryptic Studios in association with Atari. Star Trek is a trademark and copyright of CBS Studios, Inc.

The new engine room, while similar in layout, held vastly new and different systems. A brand new warp core had been installed only two days earlier, and technicians were still hooking up more systems. At the moment, Chief Petty Officer Jessi Womack, was just finishing the installation of an EPS flow regulator.

Lying on her back, halfway inside of an access hatch, Jessi felt right at home. Back on her family’s farm, she had learned how to fix her father’s tractor, among other farm equipment. Her petite frame and tiny hands definitely made it easier while working on delicate equipment in difficult to reach places. And, nothing made her happier than working on machines in cramped conditions. Lots of people thought of it as an odd mentality, especially the claustrophobic people, but she didn’t care. Joining Starfleet had been one of the best decisions of her life, and she loved her job.

Of course, under normal conditions, installing a flow regulator was not her job. But, a refit would hardly be considered a “normal condition”. Typically, she served as the Falcon’s Transporter Chief. After she had joined Starfleet, it became apparent that fixing things was not her only talent. She had excelled at transporter control and had been assigned to the Falcon under Captain Qat’Anmek.

For the last two years she had quietly served in that capacity. At Vega Colony, though, everything had changed. Captain Qat’Anmek was dead, and so was most of the rest of the command crew. Ensign Campbell, a man she barely knew, had stepped up to command that day and became a hero. Womack, herself, had been awarded with the Starfleet Medal of Commendation for her quick work in rescuing the wounded at the battle. Awards were not her concern, though. She had better things to do.

After returning to Spacedock, she had been asked where she wanted to serve. Most of the rest of the original crew had either taken positions elsewhere, or had been reassigned. When she heard that Campbell had been promoted and was taking over the Falcon officially, she chose to stay and assist with the refit. It sounded like fun, and it also meant she would have the chance to continue to work with Campbell. He already earned her trust and respect, and that counted for a lot.

“How are we doing, Chief?” Someone she couldn’t see, and could barely hear, was standing at her feet.

“Almost have the last connection!” She shouted her response to make sure whomever it was could hear her. Between the constant din of work in the engine room and the buzz of equipment next to her head, it was hard to hear anything. Brushing a lock of her blonde hair out of her eyes, she reached up and snapped one more coupling into place. She tightened the connection with her auto-spanner and double-checked the seal with a quick scan from her tricorder. With everything in place, Jessi wriggled out of the hatch. Standing up, she shouted, “Okay! She’s all set!”

“I’m right here, Chief. No need to shout,” calmly replied Lieutenant Campbell.

“Sorry!” She grimaced and cleared her throat. She started again, “Sorry, Captain. I sometimes forget my volume control when I’ve been inside of an engine.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with an easy smile. One thing she liked about the new captain, was his rapport with engineers. He had been an engineer, too, which gave him a proper perspective on the profession. Behind the captain, and just to one side, stood a human man with dark hair and almond-colored skin. What really caught her eye, though, was the large scar dominating his right cheek. Campbell gestured to the man and said, “Jessi, this is Lieutenant Junior Grade Jose Hernandez, our new Chief Engineer.”

* * *

“Jose, this is Transporter Chief Jessi Womack.”

She certainly was attractive. A small, slender body with curves in just the right places. A blonde, too. Jose could get used to seeing her around. He extended his hand to the woman. “Chief Womack, it’s good to meet you. Congratulations on your commendation.”

“Thanks, but it was nothing.” She took his hand and shook it. You could tell a fair amount about people from a handshake, and Jose was not about to pass up a chance to analyze one of his new subordinates. Her hands were rough, which suggested a hard worker. Her hand had been offered with the palm facing slightly downward, which meant an assertive personality. Finally, her firm grip and steady eye contact told him that she was confident. He had to admit, he liked her more already.

Taking his hand back, he glanced around the Engine Room. “You guys have done an excellent job. All of this in three weeks?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good work.” Nodding, Jose watched as two technicians ran a calibration on an electrical relay. When one of them leaned up against the conduit, Jose shook his head in frustration. “Hey!” The techs looked up at his yell. “Don’t lean up against that! If the relay is bad, it could arc against the conduit housing and fry you in your shoes.” After a couple of quick apologies, the two men resumed their work from a safer position. Turning back to Campbell and Womack, Jose raised an eyebrow. “Are they usually that careless?” Womack spoke first.

“No, sir. They’re usually better than that. I’ll talk to them after they’re done, if you’d like, sir.”

“Please do,” he said with a quick nod. “We have safety protocols for a reason, Chief. See to it they’re followed. In fact, I want to put you in charge of a full safety inspection before the ship is under way. Can you handle that?”

“Absolutely, sir.”

“Thanks, Chief,” Campbell spoke up. “Shall we move on, Lieutenant?”

“As you wish, sir.” As they continued on their tour of the Falcon, Jose watched the young captain. Barely a grade above himself, Jose wasn’t sure if the young man was capable of command. Just because he was supposed to be a hero did not mean he was a leader. Jose had already served in Starfleet for over a year and had only recently been promoted to Junior Grade. Campbell was still wet behind the ears. But, command assignments were not his responsibility, so he would keep his mouth shut. Unless, of course, something forced him to speak up.

Campbell pointed to a phaser monitoring system. “As you can see, we’ve made some significant upgrades to the Falcon’s components. The weapon and deflector systems come from a Shi’Kar-class escort. The new superstructure and shield systems come from a Centaurus-class frigate. And, we’ve managed to get our hands on tritanium alloy for the hull armor. Workers are replacing the old monotanium as we speak.”

“Isn’t that usually reserved for larger vessels?” In a time of war, it only made sense to keep better materials for the front-line ships. A simple scout ship would be a waste.

“True.” Campbell shrugged and looked up, his eyes focused beyond the bulkheads. “But, we’re going into the unknown, Lieutenant. With no transwarp network, starbases could be weeks away. And, no help if we run into trouble. We need the best protection that Starfleet can provide.”

That made some sense. Besides, if he was going to be stuck on this tug, it might as well be as safe as they could make it. His mind started to wonder about how he might add his own improvements to the ship’s defenses. If the shield emitters came from a science ship like a Centaurus, that meant they could handle a much higher power output. Jose decided he would have to meet with the lead designer to see about coaxing some real performance from the shields.

Campbell clapped him on the shoulder, snapping Jose from his thoughts. “So, what do you think?”

“It’ll take some time to get to know her systems, but I think you’ve got the makings of a fine ship.”

“Good. I’m looking forward to working with you, Jose.” A crooked grin crept up on the young captain’s face. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment to keep.” Turning away, Campbell strolled out of engineering.

* * *

“Thank you, Nurse. That’ll be all,” said Doctor Lehotusa Glow, handing back the PADD. The nurse hurried away, and Lehotusa didn’t need to guess why. When someone could read a person’s thoughts as easy as looking at a piece of paper, there was nothing people could hide. So, Betazoids, such as himself, were constantly feared.

Every type of being had different reactions to telepaths, but, in his estimation, humans were the worst. To humans, the inner workings of their minds were of the utmost privacy. An invasion of that privacy was one of the most serious taboos. Even though his people had strict etiquette and rules about that sort of thing, humans hardly knew it. This led to fear and anger, which just frustrated him. To make matters worse, humans had virtually no control over their thoughts, which annoyed him to no end. In order to maintain the proper mental distance, it took considerable effort to filter out their thoughts, which always gave him a headache.

He leaned back in his chair and stroked his beard. Lehotusa thought of his home, back on Betazed. His son was probably out in the yard, pretending to fight Klingon warriors. Upstairs, his daughter was studying for a physics test, or some such. And, downstairs, in the kitchen, his wife was making some of her prize winning uttaberry crepes. He longed to be there.

And yet, he wanted to be here even more. In fact, he had accepted a demotion to Lieutenant J.G. in order to be aboard the Falcon. It was either that, or be promoted up to Lieutenant Commander and get deployed to the war front. And, while healers had their place in war, he wanted none of that. He was a scientist. Sure, he could treat cuts, burns, and broken bones with the best of them. But, his knowledge of the life sciences would be wasted. Out on the fringe of space there was so much to learn, so many puzzles to solve, was where he belonged.

Just outside of his office, Lehotusa could feel Lieutenant Campbell approaching. He felt a strong desire for exploration in the young captain. In that regard, they were kindred spirits, which meant he liked the kid already. As Campbell turned the corner into the doctor’s office, Lehotusa stood and greeted the man. “Right on time, Captain.”

“I don’t like to be late.”

“Punctuality is always a good thing. Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you.” That was not entirely true. At the moment, Campbell was actively thinking about some Bolian tonic water. “So, Doctor, what do you think of the new Sick Bay?”

“Top of the line. It’s so new, I’ll have to learn whole new interfaces. I understand that the last Sick Bay was completely destroyed. Correct?”

“I’m afraid so. One Borg torpedo ripped right through our hull when the shields collapsed. The medical staff didn’t even know what hit them.” Campbell’s pain jumped into Doctor Glow’s head. Instead of simple feelings, he could see what happened. Smoke, fire, the original captain impaled, and a woman named Mercy, shot in the back. With the intensity of the outburst, Lehotusa knew it would be some time before the captain truly healed from that ordeal. He decided to change the subject.

“Any word on when we’ll be heading out?”

“Anxious to get moving?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Absolutely, Doctor.” Campbell’s mind was still distracted, lingering on his memories of the battle. “Provided we stay on schedule, we’ll be setting sail in three weeks. Now, I’m sorry, Doctor, but I’ve got other things to attend to. I’ll catch up you later.” He was lying. All the captain wanted was to be secluded for a little while. Given the emotional distress he felt, Lehotusa decided to give the captain his space.

“No problem, Captain. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks, Doc.” And, with that, the captain turned and walked out of Sick Bay, the thought of some Bolian tonic water at the front of his mind.

To be continued . . .
________________________________________________________________________________
This is a Star Trek Online fan-fiction series by Collin “Cade” Spencer.

Star Trek online is produced by Cryptic Studios in association with Atari. Star Trek is a trademark and copyright of CBS Studios, Inc.

Walking quickly through the corridors of Spacedock, Campbell thought back over the last few weeks. The battle at Vega Colony had left him in command of the Falcon, which had suffered serious damage. Half of its crew had been casualties, and many of its systems had been smashed beyond repair. They managed to repair the warp drive and had limped back home over the course of a month. Their trip would have been faster had they used the Federation’s Transwarp Network, but their hull damage had been to severe.

Upon their arrival, they had been hailed as heroes. News of their one lucky shot, which had led to the total destruction of the Borg Cube, had preceded them. Now, he was on his way to be personally debriefed by the sector commander.

Just outside of the admiral’s office, an assistant seated at a simple desk pressed a button at her private console. The door next to her slid open and she gestured for Campbell to enter. Acknowledging her with an appreciative nod, he walked through the door.

“Ah, Ensign. Please come in.” As he entered the admiral’s office, he took a quick survey of his surroundings. The room was large and well furnished. A tall, cylindrical aquarium stood in one corner, opposite a grand window. Beyond that window, the beautiful blue and green marble of Earth hung in the sky, slowly rotating amidst a sea of stars.

Behind a hand-crafted, wooden desk sat Admiral Quinn, flanked by a Ferengi aide. Tall and broad shouldered, the admiral possessed the appearance of a seasoned soldier. His silvery hair and beard framed his sharp features, which were accentuated by a pattern of spots adorning his temples and neck. As a Trill, it was rumored that Admiral Quinn had served Starfleet for over a hundred years. However, he never spoke of his past lives, and no one thought to question the man.

Campbell walked up to the admiral’s desk and snapped to attention. Other than Admiral Riker, he had very little experience with flag officers. He was not about to appear unprofessional in front of one. Quinn regarded the young officer for a quiet moment, then smiled warmly. “As you were, Ensign.” Campbell relaxed his posture and clasped his hands behind his back.

Standing, the admiral quickly glanced at a PADD laying on the desk and returned his attention to Campbell. “I’ve read Commander Kelly’s report of what happened at Vega Colony. I’ve also read the Falcon’s logs. But, I’d like to hear if from you. What happened out there?”

“Well, sir, when the Borg arrived, Captain Qat’Anmek ordered us to battle stations and we moved with the fleet to engage. As soon as we opened fire, the Borg retaliated and our senior personnel were killed, including the captain. I took command, and with some excellent work by our engineers, we were able to re-enter the battle. I noticed a weakness in the Cube’s power grid and took a gamble.” A gamble was the best way to describe his actions that day. Had that shot failed, his ship would have been completely defenseless against an extremely deadly opponent. “It paid off, sir. According to sensor logs, the explosion created a chain reaction that destroyed their core.”

Quinn barked a laugh and shook his head. “Now, that’s the kind of thinking we need in Starfleet. Fortune favors the bold, Ensign. That’s a creed I live by. We need more captains like you. If we did, this war might be over sooner, rather than later.” The admiral pulled a small box from a drawer in his desk. “Now, not only did you stop the Borg, but you saved the lives of a hundred Starfleet personnel when you transported those wounded to the Seacole. I have to say, I’m very impressed with you. You’ve shown yourself to be a true credit to Starfleet. I see a bright future for you, Mister Campbell.”

Coming around his desk, the admiral opened the box and pulled out a small, shiny object. Reaching up, he pinned it to Campbell’s chest and returned to stand behind his desk. “Christopher Robert Campbell, on behalf of the United Federation of Planets, I hereby award you the Starfleet Medal of Valor for your actions, above and beyond the call of duty, at the Battle of Vega Colony.”

He glanced down at the medal, and sure enough, the Medal of Valor hung just below his commbadge. That made almost no sense to him. Over a thousand men and women gave their lives fighting in that battle. Snapping back to attention, he saluted the admiral. “Thank you, admiral. But, permission to speak, sir?”

The admiral cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “Granted.”

“Sir, why me? What about all the people that died? Like Captain Qat’Anmek or Lieutenant Commander McMary.” His mind flashed back to an image of Mercy, dead in his arms. “I did exactly what I was supposed to do, sir. That doesn’t make me a hero.” That was certainly how he felt. Why should he be honored?

The admiral gave a sad smile. “Son, I’ve never known a hero that didn’t say the same thing. Besides, do you know what that thing really is?” He pointed to the medal hanging on Campbell’s chest. “It’s a monument. Not only does it represent a recognition of your actions, it stands as a memorial to all of those that gave their lives in defense of the Federation. Wear it with pride . . . Lieutenant.”

Campbell’s head jolted with surprise. “Sir?”

“I’m also promoting you to the rank of Full Lieutenant, with all privileges therein. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, sir. May I ask what my assignment will be?”

Admiral Quinn pressed a few buttons on his console and Campbell’s service record appeared on one of the office’s monitors. “I’ve gone over your record quite extensively, Lieutenant. You excelled at Warp Theory and Engineering at the Academy. High marks in sensor operation and computer maintenance. You also showed a talent for command, which is what earned you a bridge officer position straight out of the Academy. You could go just about anywhere.”

Campbell’s mind swam with the possibilities. A position with the Corps of Engineers, assignment to a ship like the Enterprise, or even a teaching job at the Academy. Any of those jobs might be just around the corner.

“And, there was something else that caught my eye,” the admiral continued. “You’d mentioned, during your time at the Academy, that you wanted to be an explorer. Is that right?”

“Yes, sir.” Assignment to the Enterprise was looking even more likely. He had always heard of the exploits of Captain Data and his elite crew. Ever since the android’s “resurrection”, he and his crew had encountered fantastic phenomena, and thwarted a great number of threats to the Federation. Campbell definitely wanted to be part of that.

“Good. Because, as you well know, we have scientific mandate in Starfleet. We’re supposed to explore strange, new worlds, and seek out new life and . . . well, you know the rest. Even though we’re at war, we must not forget that. And, I think that’s where you come in.”

Campbell’s brow furrowed in confusion. It was starting to sound like he wasn’t about to be assigned to the Enterprise. Of course, he wasn’t entirely sure what the Admrial was trying to get at.

“Effective immediately, I’m officially assigning you as captain of the U.S.S. Falcon. Your mission, following the supervision of the ship’s repair and refit, will be to explore the Delta Volanis Cluster. It’s an uncharted region of space just outside the Sirius Sector Block.”

He reeled from shock. He was being given full command? Had Admiral Quinn lost his mind. He had been out of the Academy less than two months and he was already the captain of a ship.

“Now, under normal circumstances, a Lieutenant would never command a vessel, Campbell. But, this war is a drain on all of our resources. We need the best minds in the best places. You’ve got what it takes to be a great leader. And now, more than ever, we need passionate explorers to brave the unknown. I know you won’t let me down, son.”

Campbell saluted again. “Thank you, sir. I’ll do my best.” He hardly knew what else to say. The admiral’s orders were genuine, and he always wanted to be an explorer. He just wasn’t sure if he was ready. Admittedly, his initial anxiety of command had worn off over the month he had spent leading the Falcon. But, in his mind, he believed it to be only temporary.

“Best of luck to you, Lieutenant. Report to the shipyard command center. They’ll assign a team from the Corps of Engineers to assist you in the refit of the Falcon. Dismissed.” With that, Campbell saluted once more and turned to leave. This was certainly going to prove to be an interesting duty.

* * *

The Shipyard Command Center was a bustling room, crowded with officers operating every aspect of construction and repair. If the war with the Klingons had accomplished anything, it had vastly improved Starfleet’s productivity. The Corps of Engineers had streamlined the processes of starship construction in order to meet the demands of a war-based economy. Where it had once taken months to build a vessel, one could now be completed in a matter of weeks.

Watching the activity, Campbell could not help but admire the men and women here. Their work was just as important to the war as any soldier, and possibly more so. Were it not for their dedication, Starfleet would not have the materials with which to fight their enemies.

He had been informed that the leader of the Falcon’s new design team would meet him here, and he hoped that whomever it was would have the same level of dedication.

“Well, well. Not two months out of the Academy and you’ve already made yourself a hero. And, now you’ve got your own ship, too,” said a familiar voice from behind him. Turning to the source of the voice, Campbell’s eyes lit up at the sight of his old friend.

“Imjim! What are you doing here?” Standing with his arms crossed, the Bolian beamed with pride.

“Well, you know Chief Dirz Raxx?”

“Yeah, he’s the crew chief here at the shipyard.”

“He’s my cousin. Right after graduation, he put in a good word for me and I got placed with the Corps of Engineers here at Earth. I’m a design team leader now.”

“Really? That’s great.” Back in the Academy, Imjim had always talked about designing and building starships. “So, do you know who’ll be working on the Falcon?”

“You’re lookin’ at him, Chris.” They both shared a hearty laugh. Imjim clapped a hand on Campbell’s shoulder and gestured to the door with a nod of his head. “C’mon. Let’s go down to Club 47 and talk about your ship over some Synthale.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Grinning, he followed his friend out into the corridor. As they moved through the station, they talked about their other friends from the Academy. Dor’pon had been assigned to security detail on the U.S.S. Kirk, and Davina was stationed at Starbase 24 as a shuttle pilot. Neither of them knew where T’Eama had gone, however they both suspected she had been assigned to a research vessel of some kind.

Strolling into Club 47, with its purple and orange lights bathing its patrons in a strange glow, they took seats at the bar. Imjim ordered them each a synthale and convinced Campbell to recount the battle of Vega Colony. He told his friend the story, to the best of his ability, but chose to not tell him specifics on how his fellow officers had died. It was still too soon, and he didn’t want to burden his friend with that kind of painful truth.

After finishing his story, Imjim downed the rest of his ale and looked back at Campbell with a more serious expression. “I read the Falcon’s status report as soon as I was assigned to her refit. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us, but I’ve got some ideas how we can really improve her.

Campbell cleared his throat. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, when I’m through with her, she might be barely recognizable as a Miranda-class vessel. But, she’ll be faster, stronger, and tougher than ever before. I’ve got another cousin at Utopia Planitia that’s shared some design concepts with me, and it’s given me some great ideas.”

And, just like that, Campbell knew that he had just the dedicated engineer he was hoping for.

To be continued . . .
_____________________________________________________________________________

This is a Star Trek Online fan-fiction series by Collin “Cade” Spencer.

Star Trek online is produced by Cryptic Studios in association with Atari.  Star Trek is a trademark and copyright of CBS Studios, Inc.

The internal communication system beeped. “Bridge? Engineering here.”

“Campbell here. What do you have for me Engineering?” They had, minutes earlier, restored main power. However, the Falcon was still defenseless. Their ability to help the fleet rested in the hands of his ship’s engineers.

“Shields are operational, and we have the impulse engines running. We can’t give you full impulse, yet, though. The power transfer grid is overworked.” Checking his diagnostics screen at his Ops station, he confirmed the engineer’s report. “And, it’ll be a couple more minutes before the phasers are back online, sir. We just don’t have the resources to get it done any faster.”

“You’re doing the best you can, crewman. That’s all I ask.” Being an engineer himself, Campbell knew exactly what would be going on down there. The last thing they needed was an officer, sitting someplace else, barking orders and making unnecessary demands. He knew they needed to feel appreciated to bolster their confidence. “You’re doing good. Keep it up.”

“Sir?” The Bajoran woman, San Leena, seated at the sensor console, got his attention. “I’m receiving multiple signals regarding a need to evacuate wounded personnel.”

“Which ships, crewman?”

“I’m having difficulty sorting it out, but it sounds like the Khitomer, Kelvin, Oakland, Bohr, Renown, and Montreal. They need help, sir.”

“And that’s what we’re going to do.” He opened another internal channel. “Transporter room?”

“Chief Womack here,” came a feminine voice.

“Do we have enough power to begin beaming wounded aboard?”

“Only if you reroute the power from somewhere else, sir.”

He punched in a few commands on his console and shrugged. “I’ve just pushed shield power to the transporters, Chief. Can’t use the shields while beaming, anyway. Will that be enough?”

“It’s not much, but I’ll see what I can do with it, sir.”

“Do what you can, Chief. There are a lot of wrecks out there. Beam up as many wounded as you can. I’ll figure out what to do with them as soon as they’re aboard.” There was no way they’d be able to handle dozens, even hundreds, of wounded. The Falcon’s Sickbay had been lost in the hull breach, leaving virtually no medical personnel aboard. Again, he opened a ship-wide channel. “All available medical personnel, please report to the transporter room.” There were bound to be some crew with medical training, and those wounded needed to be looked after.

His attention returned to his console, and he sent the Falcon along the best path near each of the damaged ships. Without full impulse power, the ship simply crawled along its path. At this rate, the Falcon would never rejoin the fight. After an agonizing minute of silence, Campbell looked over at the sensor station. “San, how’s the battle going?”

The young woman tapped away at her control panel. “The Cube’s shields have dropped to about twenty-five percent, and I’m reading a large amount of surface hull damage. The fleet appears to have been joined by another three vessels, and they’re managing to hold their own, I think.” This was good news. If the defenders could hold the Borg back long enough, Starfleet could get more reinforcements to the system.

The comm system beeped again. “Engineering here. Full impulse power restored and phasers are back online.”

“Good job, crewman. Now, stay alert. We’ll be back in the line of fire momentarily. Bridge out.” He closed the channel and opened another one to the transporter room. “Womack? How are we doing?”

“I’ve got them, sir,” came a cheerful reply.

“That’s good, Chief. How many were you able get?”

“All of them, sir. About one hundred.”

“That’s . . . amazing, Chief.” He could hardly believe it. In less than two minutes, she had beamed aboard more wounded than the Falcon’s crew complement. “Good work. Stand by.” He shook his head and closed the channel. With that many wounded aboard, there was no way he was going to go back into combat. But, without a proper medical staff, he wasn’t going to be much help to these wounded, either.

He needed to find a way to save the wounded and get back into the fight. Checking his display, he noticed an Olympic-class medical ship floating ahead. That gave him an idea. “San, status on that medical ship up ahead?”

“That would be the U.S.S. Seacole, sir. Her engines, shields and weapons are out, and she’s on auxiliary power only. However, I’m not reading any other significant hull damage, and there’s plenty of life signs.”

“Any Borg aboard her?”

“No, sir.”

“Hail her.”

“Aye, sir. Channel open.”

“Seacole, this is Ensign Campbell of the Falcon. Do you copy?”

After a few seconds, San glanced up from her panel and smiled. “Response coming in, sir.”

“On screen.”

The face of a Bolian woman flickered onto the main screen. She looked both relieved and anxious. “This is Captain Alcott of the Seacole. Our external sensors are completely smashed, Ensign. What’s happening out there?”

“The fleet’s holding on, Captain. The Borg have us on the ropes, but we’re not giving up.” He didn’t have time for small talk. “I need your help with something, Captain.”

The Bolian’s brow furrowed in confusion. “We’re hardly in a position to assist with the battle, Ensign. But, we’ll do the best we can. What did you have in mind?”

“We’ve got around a hundred wounded aboard in dire need of medical attention. Can you still take on patients?”

The captain beamed with a broad smile. “Absolutely, Ensign. Our doctors will be standing by.”

Campbell re-opened the channel to the transporter room. “Chief, we’ll be pulling up alongside the Seacole. I need you to transfer all of the wounded to them, immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

He turned his attention back to the main screen and nodded. “Thanks, Captain.”

“No, Ensign. I should be thanking you. You just saved the lives of a lot of people. Seacole out.” With that, the main screen returned to a view of the battle raging on ahead of them.

As soon as Womack reported that she’d completed transporting the wounded, Campbell restored the shields and pushed the ship’s throttle up to full. Ahead of them the Cube’s surface flashed with dozens of small explosions as the fleet’s weapons began to finally break through its shields. They would be in weapons range soon.

“Youngren, how are the weapons?”

The man at the Tactical console ran a quick check. “Phasers are at seventy-two percent, but torpedoes aren’t responding.” That was not good news. With the weapons in that state, there was little chance of them dealing serious damage to the cube. They needed an edge.

“San, give me a full scan of the Borg cube. Feed the data to my console.”

“Aye, sir. I’m reading extensive hull damage and drastic power fluctuations in the Cube.” Campbell watched the data scroll across his screens. Even as damaged as they appeared to be, the Borg were still more than a match for the fleet. Except for one thing. Selecting one point on the Cube’s surface, he ran a second scan. He was detecting some kind of power overload in a section that showed massive hull damage.

“We’re in range, sir,” Youngren announced. “Shall I open fire?”

His fingers flying over his controls, Campbell pushed all available power to the phasers. “Youngren, I’m feeding you a targeting solution. Lock on and give me a full-power phaser blast. Put everything into it.”

“But, sir, with the phasers in their current condition, that’ll burn them out. We’ll only get one shot!”

“I know! Just do it!”

“Yes, sir.” Youngren sighed and pecked at his controls. “Phasers locked. Firing.”

The Falcon vibrated as the phaser array let loose a single, high-intensity beam at the Cube. With a direct hit at the position he had indicated, a massive explosion rocked the Borg vessel. Plasma fire gushed from a corner of the Cube as an entire section blew free. Subsequent detonations ripped through the Cube in a chain reaction.

Campbell and the other two crewmen, let out hollers of victory and astonishment. Realizing the Cube’s destruction was imminent, he set the ship on a sharp vector away from the area. He knew from his studies that if a Borg Cube was going to explode, be somewhere else.

A huge blast of plasma fire erupted from the interior if the gargantuan vessel. Suddenly, a shock wave burst from the center of the Cube, obliterating it and sending the surrounding Starfleet vessels reeling.

The Falcon bucked under Campbell’s feet, and he managed to hold on as the ship lurched to starboard. Sparks showered from above and the bridge filled with more smoke. As soon as the inertial stabilizers compensated, he checked his screens. The Cube was history. Only five other Starfleet ships remained intact, but the threat was gone.

“Sir?”

“What is it, San?”

“We’re being hailed.”

“Put it on screen.”

An astonished-looking man with a crooked smile stared down from the main viewer. “Falcon? This is Commander Kelly on the planet surface. That was one hell of a shot! How’d you do that?”

Campbell smiled and remembered something else Admiral Riker had said to him. “Well, I got lucky, sir.”

“Somehow, I don’t think luck had anything to do with that. My men down here have contained the Borg landing parties, but I’m guessing you’ll be the one remembered as the hero of the Battle of Vega Colony.”

Captain’s Log – Supplemental – Stardate 86089.1
Ensign Christopher Campbell commanding. After suffering extensive damage in our battle against the Borg, the U.S.S. Falcon has been ordered to return to Spacedock for repair and reassignment.

________________________________________________________________________________

Author’s Notes:  And so ends the first episode in my Star Trek Online fan-fiction series.  I hope you’ve enjoyed it thus far, and I hope you’ll stick around for a long time.  Thanks to such an entertaining game, I’ve already got enough material to continue this for years.

Star Trek online is produced by Cryptic Studios in association with Atari.  Star Trek is a trademark and copyright of CBS Studios, Inc.