USS Galileo :: Episode 20 - Reconstruction - Initiates (Part 1 of 3)
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Initiates (Part 1 of 3)

Posted on 07 Sep 2024 @ 7:06pm by Commander Morgan Tarin & Lieutenant JG Rafe Caradec & Lieutenant JG Serran & Lieutenant JG Sofie Ullswater & Lieutenant JG Selon Illialhlae & Ensign Mimi & Ensign Tora Zalos & Lieutenant JG Hovar Kov & Petty Officer 3rd Class Jeysa Zeror & Petty Officer 3rd Class Yasmin Aquino & Yukime Frost & Master Chief Petty Officer Toren Vral & Petty Officer 3rd Class Warren Sims

3,922 words; about a 20 minute read

Mission: Episode 20 - Reconstruction
Location: Regula I, USS Galileo-A
Timeline: MD 02, 1406 hrs

[ON]

270 miles above the surface of the planet Remidia, science research station Regula I's distinctive tree-shaped multi-module structure silently floated within the local cosmos, its silver hull panels both capturing and reflecting a combination of light particles emanating from the planet's purple atmosphere, the system's main sequence star and a nearby Class D reflection nebula. The beautiful spectacle was a rare sight in this portion of the Alpha Quadrant - so far from the core Federation worlds in this new final frontier which contained a massive stellar nursery named the Pleiades Cluster.

Nearby - a mere 15 kilometers from the science station - USS Galileo-A's own silver hull mirrored the reflective properties of Regula I's while it slowly orbited its home port using occasional thruster adjustments. 55 hours had passed following the Nova-class' systems test and subsequent return to base. 55 hours of productive yet monotonous work aboard the starship to tend to post-warp-run repairs, ongoing computer diagnostics, and a new investigation into the possible presence of a cloaked Romulan starship operating within the sector block.

Of course, there was always more aboard Galileo: recent crew reports of 'temporal hallucinations' seemed to be plaguing many officers, NCO and junior enlisted personnel, and so far the diagnosis remained undetermined. The result of a physical ailment? Widespread psychological stress reactions? Food poisoning from the mess hall? Young Sous Chef Nesh Saalm certainly could be careless at times. A science team was currently at work attempting to ascertain the problem, and in the meantime, an imminent evolution loomed.

The oval-shaped saucer section of a large Starfleet vessel approached Regula I and Galileo from the near distance. A pair of glowing cerulean and crimson ventral nacelles adorned its sleek shape, as did a compact ovular pod mounted to the aft of its dorsal hull. The heavy transport vessel USS Yuron was here in all of its Macpherson-class glory. And always a welcome sight to those deployed far from the Federation's core. The local broadcast channel came alive and a dry, stoic voice infused the comm.

"Regula I, this is USS Yuron. Permission to approach and begin stores and personnel transfer," spoke an unseen Vulcan woman.

"USS Yuron, this is administrator Frost. You're a welcome sight. You have permission to approach and dock. Docking coordinates are being sent now."

A momentary pause followed while the appropriate trajectories and vectors were relayed to the starship's helm then confirmed by its conn officer. "Coordinates received. Commencing approach."

The large and lumbering transport ship continued its approach, slowing and maneuvering until it, too, entered a standard soft-dock orbit around Regula I. Although Galileo's orbit was presently in the far-side rotation, the size difference between the two vessels was prominent. A single one of Yuron's nacelles was approximately twice the length of the Nova-class, and its pure mass and cargo carrying ability could quite possibly transport the entire science ship by itself following a couple impromptu refits.

Caradec looked as the huge transport ship maneuvered into orbit around Regula I. All he could think was, he would have loved to have met the Admiral or whoever who suggested making a ship of this size. He felt sure that whoever it was, received some interesting stares from those hearing that ridiculous sales pitch! Yet, here it was, a behemoth of a ship.

Toren shook his head slightly and leaned back in his chair as the huge ship hoved into view. He'd served on bigger ships that the Gal for certain, but this monstrosity felt... beyond practicality. Back in the day compact was the word of the hour. The opposite seemed to ring true now. He didn't begrudge it, but perhaps the design spoke to a Federation that had been at peace for too long.

"That is one hell of a ship." Jeysa remarked while she took in the sheer size of the ship, she'd seen big ships before but this took the cake, the sweet roll and the biscuit too.

"Size isn't everything Jeysa." Mimi told her but she definitely agreed the ship was impressively sized, she scanned the ship out of curiosity though, for a transport she had a lot of weaponry, no doubt she was designed for transporting stuff safely even in the middle of a war zone.

"I think it's pretty." Ullswater felt like she probably had better things to do than talk about the size of this ship but none of those better things were currently demanding her attention. "Prettier than a Nova class for sure."

Did his ears betray him?!? Did Ullswater actually say that? Rafe's head lowered between his shoulders to hopefully avoid any salty responses and commands to repaint the interior of every Jeffry tube on the ship from the Captain. What the actual heck?!?

Serran, who had been standing at his station looked up from the console. He wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but even a human could overhear the conversation.

"I find the Galileo, to be both efficient and aesthetically pleasing."

"I'm just glad to be here.", said Rafe, wanting to deflect any negative energy AWAY from him. Really Ullswater?!?

"It is a beast built entirely for the efficient conducting of science." Ullswater continued her musings, clearly enjoying the distress going on in the navigation department. "Galileo is like a predator whose prey is the truth. Brutal and unforgiving in it's task." This is a machine of death, proven again and again over the last year.


USS Yuron - Macpherson-class

"This is Captain T'Lar," sounded the Vulcan commanding officer's airy and emotionally-absent voice across the primary intraship comm channel, echoing throughout every deck and compartment space. "Our Regula I rendezvous has been achieved. Begin supply transfer and personnel transfer immediately. We are currently 4.8 hours behind schedule. Please expedite your efforts."

The captain's ship-wide notification ended and a bee hive of activity commenced below decks. A large cadre of yellow-collared operations officers hustled to the multiple cargo bays and cargo pod in preparation to load the freight transporters then commence transfer. Other operations officers herded close to 50 personnel throughout deck six to the nearest personnel transporter rooms while giving pointed instructions over the 1MC. "All Regula I and USS Galileo transfers, report to transporter rooms two, three and five. Move all oversized personal belongings to cargo bay two. I repeat, all Regula I and USS Galileo transfers, report to transporter rooms two, three and five. Move all oversized personal belongings to cargo bay two."

A growing cacophony of mingling voices propagated outside of the transporter rooms while the corridor filled with various red, yellow and blue-collared personnel who mingled with excitement knowing this was finally the end of their starship's 6-month journey from the Federation's core worlds to the Remidia system.

One of the many personnel who was part of the mass herd was a Klingon named Father Hovar Kor, a Lieutenant Junior Grade and the newest Chaplain of the USS Galileo. He was one of many, if not all, whose belongings seemed to have been blown right off his foot. It was absolute chaos! After he made his way to cargo bay two, all he was left with was his carry-on garment bag, which contained one set of vestments, a basic set of uniforms and garments, and everything he needed to survive for a few days.

It was then that Chaplain Hovar tried to make his way to one of the transporter rooms, ideally the closest one. However, that would prove difficult! The chaos of the mass movement of personnel and equipment was almost too much to bare, especially since the crew of the Yuron were almost five hours behind! Frankly, Hovar was glad he was not in operations, and he made a note to offer prayers for the crew, on top of his of course, during Vespers. Frankly, he could barely keep up. Something else came to his mind, he wanted to make sure that he was on the transporter that would take him to the Galileo, not Regula I. He approached everyone that he could, hoping to find a group to help get through the storm.

Thankfully, he stood out. He was the only person who wore a clerical collar as part of his Star Fleet uniform.

“Excuse me, are you going to the Galileo?”

Two duffle bags. That's what Selon's accumulated life since leaving Cambridge fit into. Well and a backpack. But swung over either shoulder, Selon realized that he could squat the entire mass of his belongings several times over. He could be commended for packing light. Adhering to a certain military spartaness. But being able to carry everything, nearly everything, you were, made Selon feel like a featherweight. Books, civilian clothing, and various objects that helped to describe him as a person: his culture, his interests, his passions. That's it.

"Stick with me Reverend." Selon said as he effortlessly shuffled over to the Klingon chaplain who was even more built-out than he was and had even less cause to be. Without a free hand only his rich voice could carry the man's attention but they had gotten to know each other to a certain degree over the last few months. Necessity, and similar interests and temperament, demanded it. Coming to rest next to the Chaplain the difference in their frames, both tall and well muscled but varying dramatically in mass, was heightened.

Indeed, there are many sights that leaves someone stunned in a humourous state of curiosity. Having someone, a science officer, having a Klingon follow him with concern in his eyes was one of those sights. Hovar, however, was not fully sure what was going on. All he heard was that someone got him and he was able to flow through the chaotic mess that Hovar was absolutely not accustomed to. Was he accustomed to having to leave in a hurry? Yes. Was he accustomed to having being dragged by someone in a swarm of chaotic crew-members trying their best to get to where they need to go? Absolutely not! In fact, Hovar would bump into a few of the swarms of transferring crew.

"My goodness! I do apologize!"

Hovar realized his fear again when he lost sight of the officer that he was following! He was hearing the voices that he only heard during the very first days of the Academy. People were screaming, shouting, pushing their way through, the absolute odor of anticipation and nervousness filled his warrior senses, including his own odor. He was thankful that when he found out they were 2 hours out, he took one last shower before going out. Chaplain Hovar thought about what he could be feeling between everything that was going on: chaos.

Chaos reigned aboard the ship.

Finally, he caught up with the officer and Hovar continued to fight his way through the mess. North became west, west became south. It was at this point that Hovar realized something. He should have been more specific in his posting request instead of "wherever I am needed, let it be so."

Selon led Hovar through the crowd towards the transporter pad where the rest of the transfers had congregated. Selon had great... metaphysical problems with the idea of being converted to energy and rematerialized somewhere else. To be reduced and recompiled and remain the same did not seem possible. He had always tried to rely on his own internal narration, that there was continuity, that it was (in a way) no different than a wormhole, but the way these always flailed in his mind when the adrenaline spiked when Selon was faced with being energized, reminded him that he found little comfort in these rationalizations.


Regula I

Stepping on to the transporter they were hurriedly beamed over to Regula One, all the better, his skin didn't have time to fully develop goose bumps before the blue light washed over the small group and put them on the aged Regula One pad. There the crowd was once again assembled though in much more cramped surroundings.

"Tora!" Selon called, recognizing a face he had only seen over subspace, the only Cardassian among the assembled and the only one not to have been with them on the Yuron. Without a free hand to flag her down he had to hope that either he, or his Klingon companion, stood out in a crowd. What a strange trio they had to make that a Romulan was the least remarkable among them.

The young Cardassian woman had to crane her head a little to see who was speaking to her - as it turned out, the Romulan male and the Klingon walking with him were the ones trying to get her attention. She didn't know either of them at the moment, but if this guy knew her name, she could only presume he was a fellow member of crew. "Hello. 'Scuse me-" She wove her way through the crowd of crew members passing by to approach them both. "-don't think we've met, actually. I'll presume you both are going to the Galileo?" She asked.

"Selon Illiahlae." Selon spoke his name like Tora should know it. "Tora have you had the chance to meet your new spiritual caretaker Hovar?" Selon turned for the first time to the bright haired Centauran woman behind them. They had only passed in corridors during their months-long journey but Selon knew of her, of everyone, he was going to be serving with and that did not require being formally introduced.

"Well, no. Not yet. What do you mean by 'spiritual caretaker'?" Tora raised her eye ridges at the two of them. "I'm not particularly religious at all..."

Hovar smiled at the Cardassian, trying to put her mind at ease of any anxieties about what a spiritual caretaker's duty is, at least in theory. Granted, as he looked at her, he acknowledged that this young woman was a Cardassian, which was indeed a very rare sight among Star Fleet. Then again, a Klingon chaplain was a rare sight as well.

"Whether you are religious or not means nothing to me. If you are living, I shall nurture you. If you are wounded, I shall aid you. If you should fall, I shall honor you. That is the first, and last, duty of the Chaplain, and that extends to everyone on board the Galileo in equal measure."

Hovar then extended his hand, completely disregarding any sense of rank. After all, he believed that Chaplain was his rank. His pay-grade of Lieutenant Junior Grade meant nothing to him.

"I am Hovar Kor. I am honored to meet you."

"Tora Zalos." Tora shook his hand with a bright smile. A Klingon ship's chaplain - now this might just be an interesting experience for them all, she thought. "Well, I suppose we'll be seeing more of each other from now on, hopefully for the right reasons. Good reasons. Not because, well, I'm on my deathbed, or something."

Hovar smiled as he had been warned about such matters.

"I do hope we can be friends long before there are any conversations of performing Last Rites."

"Ensign Zalos wrote an excellent article for the Starfleet Undergraduate Journal of Anthropology when I was on the review board last semester. Congratulations again." Selon explained their acquaintance in one breath.

Cardassians couldn't blush exactly, by way of their biology - but there was a slight darkening of the grey of Tora's face when she heard that. "You flatter me, sir. Anthropology's my favorite scientific field; all I did was ensure that I did my interest justice. That's all." She shook the hand offered to her in greeting. "I am pleased that you liked it. Rest assured that you'll only see more."

Confidence, but also sincerity, an excellent combination that Selon gave a musing smile to. Yes, she would make a fine officer, newly out of the Academy as she was. Selon himself was well out of the Academy before he had his first deep space assignment.

"Don't just stand there Illialhlae, introduce me." A familiar voice rang.

Selon tried to sigh but all he could do was beam in laughter at the voice behind him. "Everyone this is Doctor Owen Cunningham, geologist extraordinaire." Selon said, throwing his head over his shoulder to gesture to the well-built, middle-aged man behind him.

Elsewhere, Chaplain Hovar Kor found himself lost in the swarm that was Regula I, as the transfer from their transport ship onto their "home base" as it was known as. There was a lot to go through from new personnel to other messes. As he wondered around, he figured that until his "group" was called up, Hovar would get himself a bite to eat and a chance to relax for even a moment. It wasn't going to be a sit down meal as the Mess Hall was also filled to the brim. Sighing to himself, he left the Mess and found a little private corner. Opening his haversack, he pulled out his personal PADD, which he began reading, just something to help pass the time before he was summoned officially.

"Excuse me, Chaplain?"

Thus he was summoned. His eyes glanced down as he spotted the face of a rather attractive woman. Celibacy does not blind him. Her dark hair, brown eyes, and gold cloth of her uniform, rushed through his memories. He tried to remember her, but there were so many transfers and crew members in general that he had yet to know everyone by name, yet...

"It's me, Petty Officer Yasmin Aquino. I was in your Mental Resilience for Deep Space Exploration course."

A hundred piece jigsaw puzzle fell into beautiful place. Yes, being what he is, he was tasked with providing courses to help crew members, on paper, better themselves. Some of them did it to help with their promotions, others did it to just pass the time. To be fair, he felt more like an Academy instructor than a Chaplain for most of the trip.

"Ahh, yes. My apologies, most of the transport has been very much a blur. How are you doing?"

Yasmin took a deep breath, shaking her head, standing next to the Chaplain as they heard announcements and calls to get on board. Honestly, it was a sight to see, a very large Klingon next to a very small Human. There was, however, a very curious difference between them. Petty Officer Aquino had been in Star Fleet for some time, this not being her first rodeo. For enlisted such as herself, everything involved training-training-training, including finding herself into a class with the Klingon.

"I'm good. I always hate transfers. It's like hurry up, wait, hurry up, wait, hurry up, wait. It's like Filipino time over and over again. I thought my tita was bad when I first enlisted. Starfleet doesn't hold a prayer on her."

Hovar looked at her with a confused expression. Looking up at the Chaplain, she smiled as she interpreted what she said for him.

"Tita means aunt and Filipino time is what we view time. You tell me the party is at 8, we'll show up at 9. Don't ask me why that is, I don't know why, it's always been like that."

The Klingon chuckled while the Human laughed. Human nature was as much of a mystery to him as it was an addictive curiosity.

"Understood. In that case my sermons are at 0800 so you will show up on time at 0900. Understood?"

Yasmine held her mouth open, comedically appalled at Hovar's hubris! Then again, there was a fact about him that she more than made known.

"Excuse me, Chaplain, you hold no command authority over me!"

The Chaplain nodded as it was very much the truth. Chaplains held no command authority. In the overall chain of command on the ship, even if all of the other officers got killed, he still would not find himself in command of anything. Then again, as quickly as she spoke those words, she then spoke with a rather more serious expression.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

Hovar nodded as he spoke in a more official tone. After all, there was still a certain voice that is given to a clergyman, even if they are not of one's own religion.

"You are forgiven, and anything said between us is held in confidence."

Yasmine sighed in relief as she knew that her little slip up would be placed on her record.

"You can atone for your sins by attending services on Sunday."

A sly grin appeared on the Klingon's face as he looked straight towards the crowded corridors, knowing that Yasmin's expression must be one of absolute shock as well as realization that indeed, Hovar was more of a pastoral relationship, even if the crew were full of hellhounds.

"Aquino?"

Both Chaplain and Petty Officer glanced over to another individual, an average sized human being with dark complexion and a very clean shaven face. Yasmin's eyes lit up right away as she motioned for him to come closer.

"Hey Sims! Get your tail over here."

They both shared a moment of friendship, which Hovar admired. It had been quite some time since he had that kind of open friendly banter with someone. That was one of his goals in Star Fleet, to have at least 10 friends. Not acquaintances, not coworkers, actual friends.

"Sims, this is our new Chaplain. Hovar Kor."

Sims looked up at the Klingon, and disbelief was written all over his face and hesitation on his voice, as was to be expected.

"Hello Chaplain, I'm Warren Sims. Petty Officer Warren Sims. I am in Operations like Yasmin, I mean...Sir."

Hovar gently smiled and raised his hand in understanding,

"I do not hold any command authority young man, Chaplain is just fine."

Yasmin rolled her eyes somewhat,

"You see, what did I tell you? He's chill. You've been around long enough to remember custom and curtsies, he's not as insistent."

Warren felt a little bit at ease, but then he brought up something that he wanted to say,

"Uh, I know you are a Catholic priest and all, but I am a Buddhist."

Hovar nodded as he maintained eye contact.

"I am not in the converting business. My job is to make sure that your practices will be respected."

It was then that Warren sighed in relief, but then Hovar got the call saying that he was going to the Transporter Room. After bidding his farewells, he walked away as he headed over to the Transporter room to go towards his new home.

[OFF]

--

CMDR Morgan Tarin
Commanding Officer
USS Galileo-A

Yukime Frost
Station Administrator
Regula I
[PNPC Warraquim]

LTJG Rafe Caradec
Senior Conn Officer
USS Galileo-A

MCPO Toren Vral
Chief of the Boat
USS Galileo-A
[PNPC Vala]

ENS Mimi
Deputy Operations Manager
USS Galileo-A

PO3 Jeysa Zeror
Yeoman
USS Galileo-A
[PNPC Mimi]

LTJG Sofie Ullswater
Chief Science Officer
USS Galileo-A

LTJG Serran
Operations Manager
USS Galileo-A

LTJG Selon Illialhlae
Anthropologist
USS Galileo-A

LTJG Hovar Kov
Chaplain
USS Galileo-A

ENS Tora Zalos
Science Officer
USS Galileo-A

PO3 Yasmin Aquino
Operations Officer
USS Galileo-A
[PNPC Kov]

PO3 Warren Sims
Operations Officer
USS Galileo-A
[NPC Kov]

 

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