The Real Department Heads

Posted on Mon Jun 17th, 2024 @ 3:21pm by Petty Officer 1st Class Kipp Lak & Warrant Officer Arlan Harlan & Crewman Thyra Kevensdotter & Petty Officer 1st Class Baris Demir & Kalstri Tenistion & Chief Petty Officer Zenne Beddite & Petty Officer 2nd Class Thomas Lopt & Petty Officer 2nd Class Fhiri & Petty Officer 3rd Class Keith Potter

2,160 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Mission 1: A Long Hard Road Ahead
Location: USS Firebird, Deck Six, Six Forward
Timeline: 25 August, 2396 -0800 Hours

[ON]

Crewman Thyra Kevensdotter sat in a seat in the back row of Six Forward cleaning her nails with a small dagger and trying not to fall asleep. She had been scheduled on the previous first watch but with the encounters with the aliens aboard the starbase and escorting Lieutenant Leed, she hadn’t gotten into her rack until almost three in the morning. Then barely three hours later, the section leader had rousted her for a Senior Chiefs’ meeting. And he had insisted that the entire section be seated forty-five minutes early so as not to waste the Chief of the Boat’s time.

Thyra stifled a yawn as she marveled at the Federation’s love of meeting to talk. It was a wonder that they ever got anything done. Her father’s saying that “Hurry Up and Wait” was a hollowed Star Fleet tradition was taking on additional meaning.

Potter strolled into Six Forward like he owned the place. Besides his transporter console, he spent more time in the new bar than anyone else on the ship. Except for maybe Chief Stephens who had a table permanently reserved near the best window in the house. He waved at the bartender and made a circling motion with his hand. If he had to listen to the old guard talk, he might as well have a drink, even if it was 0800. He'd almost died again and figured it didn't matter when he drank.

Baris strode into the room and strode to the table on his right, nearest the door. He didn't desire to be noticed. Rather, this table was near the wall and thus less crowded and near the exit. He focused on the regular equipment updates coming to his PADD. A low, guttural sound ground away in his throat at his new responsibilities in charge of cataloging what equipment salvage could be found on DS18. It mattered not that the responsibility had been his idea. No chance of trusting the space station's crew. This mess was partly their fault for not protecting it better.

Harlan was next to enter. He immediately found a spot near a corner where he could grumble to himself, but it ended up looking like a sullen teenager pouting. Nothing felt the same after this stupid de-aging process. It didn't matter though. He was still a chief that new more than anyone about the Tubes. All he needed was some quiet time with a PADD and eventually things would get back to normal. Maybe he should start wearing makeup to look more like his old self. Hmmm...

"We have a lounge?" Thomas Lopt said as he entered Six Forward. Fhiri, standing next to him, snorted.

"Lopt I know you like hiding away in Engineering but you really need to get out more," the Ferengi Petty Officer said and motioned for Thomas to follow her, which he did. "It might do a world of good for you."

"I don't need a world of good. I'm perfectly happy taking care of the communications systems. And making sure the ship doesn't blow up sometimes."

Zene Beddite was close on the two engineers' tail as she strode into Six Forward. She'd been in the place a few times, once practicing with the quartet that she had joined. Music was a new passion and the acoustics in Six Forward were fantastic. She made her way to the bar and ordered a Risian Sunrise.

Chief Petty Officer Charles Stephens stormed into Six forward, Petty Officer Lak following in his wake.

"I don't give two Rigellian damns about what the Captain says, I'm not doing it and neither are any of my people," Stephens said. He stomped to the middle of the room and sat down at the table he'd reserved. He was close to the bar and could see everyone in the room from his spot.

"Very good, Chief, I will relay your...misgivings to Captain Llwyedd at our next meeting," Kipp said and tapped on a PADD.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," the Chief said. "Alright, listen up! We're supposed to have some kind of complaint registration talk or something. So... what complaints do you have about the way things are being done on the ship or in our current FUBAR situation?"

Thyra’s hand immediately shot into the air. She was oblivious to her section leader,s frantic waves for her to put it down.

"Yeah? Crewman Kevensdatter? You're either doing calisthenics or you have something important to say. Go ahead," Stephens said and ran his hand over his face.

“Chief Petty Officer Stephens,” Thyra began formally, “I am dismayed at the lack of variety amongst the melee weapons in the ship’s armory. The arsenal seems to be composed of non-lethal devices. Stun batons, clubs, pugil sticks and the like. It is possible to generate facsimiles in the replicators but they are of substandard quality and require a petty officer or higher to override the lockouts. That is hardly an effective system if we find ourselves in the middle of a crisis. As it was, I needed to arm myself with personal weapons during last night’s visit to the starbase to be properly equipped.”

"I'm getting too old for this s... Right. Crewman Kevensdatter, you're hereby appointed assistant melee weapons master since you're so passionate about stabbing, clubbing, stunning, and beating people. You'll report directly to me if there are any problems or undue injuries. Sound good?" Stephens said. "Who's next?"

Thyra put a sour look on her face but was secretly happy. She had hoped rather than expected her concern to address as most Federation officers seemed to have a distaste for armed melee combat. But to be place in charge of the weapons left her almost giddy with delight. A good shieldmaiden knew how to subtly manipulate her charge.

Fhiri stood up. "Chief, I've been saying this for a long time but since those dirty Marines were booted off the ship, we have enough space on deck seven to build another holodeck. One holodeck for an entire ship is just a travesty," Fhiri said and sat down.

Stephens saw a number of heads nodding and he turned to Kipp. "What do you think, Kipp. Will the Captain go for it?"

Kipp tapped at his PADD again. "I believe he will, if we can get Lieutenant Woodhouse to sign off on the power system being up to the task."

"Next?" Chief Stephens asked.

Zene stood up and raised a hand. The Benzite was tall and wore a crisp uniform. She usually tried to appear shorter than she was because it made others uncomfortable but this time she wanted to be recognized.

"Chief Beddite," Stephens said with a note of respect in his voice. "How can I help?"

"Thank you, Chief Stephens. I am concerned about our stores level of medical supplies. I am expecting the Firebird to be offloading a significant amount of medical stores, along with many other critical items. I estimate that with a standard rate of injury and illness, taking into account that our population will be much increased, we will run out of key medical resources in a week to ten days."

Stephens scowled. He looked over the assembled crew until he found who he was looking for. "Baris, what do you think about Chief Beddite's assessment?"

"I think it's optimistic. Unless the DS18's medical and power systems get back online ahead of schedule," said Baris, reading to himself from the reports. "I'd say seven days at most. And no, we're nowhere near a tally of what can be salvaged from the base. The diplomat did say the Bajoran freighter might have extra supplies. Don't have that report yet, either."

"Kipp, this needs to be expedited. We can't have our people at serious risk of long-term injury due to lack of medical equipment," Stephens said in a clear voice that had taken on a different tone. "If the Captain needs to see me about this, I am available."

Kipp nodded. "I think the Captain will prioritize this without any issues, Chief."

"Good," Stephens said. "Oh! Kalstri? Where are you." He scanned the room until he found the four-armed chef. "I know you are ship-bound most of the time but I thought, with the station mostly secure, if you would be willing to move over there for a bit and create some real food? Military service has changed over the centuries but having a hot, non-replicated meal has an amazing affect on those who have been under a lot of stress."

Kalstri strode through the tables with a couple trays of drinks, each with a special blend of caffeine and energy nutrients, offering them to the enlisted as he passed by them. Each one was uniquely made and as he passed by the aroma of a specific drink tempted each individually. "Oh Chief, that sounds splendid! Don't get me wrong, I truly enjoy the small efficient kitchen that the Firebird has, but expanding to a full kitchen...That sounds marvelous. Oh, and to think of the exotic ingredients we can get a hold of on the station. There could be things that I have never even worked with before!" He pulled out a PADD from under his apron and started tapping, "Yes, that will be great. I will get you a list of the utensils and equipment from here that I will need."

"Thank you, Kalstri. Much appreciated," Stephens said. He saw Potter waving his hand and shook his head. "No, Potter, we will not put sleep pods in the transporter room. I don't care if you think it will make you more efficient."

Potter lowered his hand as if it had been burned. "Nobody ever listens to me," he muttered.

"Chief Harlan, any words of wisdom or requests from the person with the most experience here?" Stephens asked.

Harlan's brain had drifted into a mild fog as he listened to the other chiefs banter; honestly, everyone calling each other chief was reminiscent of a few 20th-century media items he knew about. "Hrmph," he grunted as he came back to the world. "Not as such. It seems like you've got some good ideas. We do need a morale boost that only food can provide. I think being able to replicate a few lethal armaments is also useful when presented with the myrian assailants we might encounter. The only thing I'll say beyond that is if you think you're installing or modifying anything that needs different power constraints, you get my ok on top of anyone else. Engineering took it in the jimmy recently, and we had to do some heavy rerouting just to not die."

"Otherwise, remember that we are never in charted territory in Starfleet, so to speak. That means we have very little guide, even including the captain's experience, in many situations. Don't run roughshod over each other with department-level projects. Does that about do the trick for wisdom?"

Stephens stood up. "Damn right it does," he said with a smile. "Everyone pay attention when you have the opportunity to learn from us old farts. And then pass it on when you're standing in front of a bunch of baby-faced people like you. I think that's enough of a meeting. If you have any further questions, talk to your section chiefs. I for one am going to have a few drinks and I don't care if it is 0800. Dismissed."

[OFF]

Chief Petty Officer Charles Stephens Jr.
Chief of the Boat
USS Firebird NCC-88298

Warrant Officer Arlan Harlan
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298


Chief Petty Officer Zenne Beddite (NPC by Llwyedd)
Head Nurse
USS Firebird NCC-88298


Petty Officer 1st Class Baris Demir (NPC by Leed)
Quartermaster
USS Firebird NCC-88298

Petty Officer 1st Class Kipp Lak (NPC by Llwyedd)
Yeoman
USS Firebird NCC-88298

Petty Officer 2nd Class Fhiri (NPC by Llwyedd)
Computer Systems Specialist
USS Firebird NCC-88298

Petty Officer 2nd Class Thomas Lopt (NPC by Llwyedd)
Communications Specialist
USS Firebird NCC-88298

Petty Officer 3rd Class Keith Potter (NPC by Llwyedd)
Transporter Specialist
USS Firebird NCC-88298

Crewman Thyra Kevensdotter
Security Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298

Kalstri Tenistion (NPC by Smith)
Chef
USS Firebird NCC-88298

 

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