STAR TREK: STARFLEET INTELLIGENCE
The Missions of the USS Doyle
by Edward Webb
LEGAL STUFF: All of the characters and events not specifically
copyrighted by Paramount Television is copyright (c) 1998 by Edward
Webb. This is a fan novel written for the pleasure of other fans. It may be
distributed freely as long as no charge is collected in this distribution, and
the body of this work and this copyright notice is kept intact.
NOTE: These events take place almost a year after the Borg Massacre at
Wolf 359.
Chapter 2: Captain Takashi
The two men scoured over the decimated bridge of the Challenger.
Their white radiation suits and helmets gleamed in the darkness of the
bridge, providing heat and oxygen in the ruptured ship. They were the first
to set foot on the Challenger since the ship was towed back to Starbase 29,
and there were getting some final scans before preliminary repair work
began.
Ensign Hans Ebert, the younger of the two, slowly turned around as
he fiddled with his tricorder, the oversized fingers of his radsuit gauntlets
making him occasionally curse. “Almost done, sir. It’s amazing how much
punishment this little ship took.”
The older man, Lt. Commander Maron Jono, laughed over the
comm link, his voice bouncing at odd angles in the thin air. “Little? A
hundred years ago, this ship would have been a huge exploration vessel!”
He looked around the bridge and sighed. “Trust me, Hans, this ship looks a
lot worse than it is.”
Ebert looked up. “But surely it would be cheaper to simply build a
new ship? The repairs on the hull alone will take weeks!”
Maron walked towards Ebert. “Not at all. It takes years to build a
starship, but only months to rebuild one. Besides, I once served on a cruiser
like this one, the USS Britainnia, a few years back. First Bajoran officer on
a Starfleet exploration vessel. She got into a scrap, too, but luck held out,
and we managed to get her back home. And that’s what we’re going to do
for this one, too…”
Just at that moment, the communicator in Maron’s helmet chirped.
Maron tilted his head back to talk to the ceiling, activating the comm.
“Maron here.”
“Lt. Maron, this is Starbase. You have a urgent Priority One
message.”
“Priority One, huh? Patch it through to my helmet PADD.”
Maron waited as the familiar Starfleet logo appeared in front of his
eyes, and was given the traditional security warning. He muttered his
security code under his breath. The screen flashed green, and went blank.
Soon the words “Transmission will be conducted in realtime text” appeared.
“Text?” muttered Maron. Realtime text transmissions were only
used in case of enemy interference… certainly not in a ship docked at a
Starbase. The screen filled with red letters. “Lt. Maron, please verify your
Security Clearance.”
“What the hell? Why do you need my SECLAR?”
“Please verify your Security Clearance.”
Maron sighed. “Lt. Commander Maron Jono. Starbase 29
Technical Chief. Access code Gamma Gamma Seven Two.”
“Thank you. Your SECLAR is insufficient for you to continue your
mission.”
“What mission? We’re only finishing a preliminary survey of…”
“This mission is being turned over to Starfleet Intelligence. Your
orders are as follows: You are to declare officially that the Challenger is
unsalvageable, then report to Admiral Tapok You will tell no one of this
transmission, and all copies are being erased. Signify your understanding.”
“Unsalvageable? It’s barely…”
“Signify your understanding.”
“I got it, I got it.”
“Transmission terminated.”
Maron’s visor cleared as he swore and punched is padded gauntlet
into the burned-out Ops control.
“What’s wrong sir?”
Maron sighed. “Pack it in, Hans. SFI has just scuttled the
Challenger.”
* * * * *
Commander Takashi sighed as she straightened her dress uniform
top for what seemed like the thousandth time. She sat ramrod straight in
the chair, staring at the 18th century grandfather clock that the Admiral had
in his office. The blue and white carpeting sunk almost two inches under
Takashi’s feet, but that was the only thing soft in the room. The harsh black
desk looked like it would cut anyone who touched it, and the chairs were
high-backed and straight, seemingly designed to be as uncomfortable as
possible. Takashi glanced again at the chronometer. 1813 hours. The
Admiral was almost a quarter of an hour late, but still Takashi waited.
Admiral Tapok was in charge of the debriefing, and would notify her on the
status of the crew and the Challenger.
My ship, she thought. With Captain Hagen pronounced DOA when
they arrived at the Starbase, she was in command now. She considered
promoting Bradley for his action during the crisis. Maybe I’ll make him my
First Officer.
At precisely 1815 Admiral Tapok strode into the room. He was a
fair-skinned Vulcan, nearly 2 meters tall. He dropped a PADD on the desk,
took his chair, and with no formality, began to speak.
“Commander Takashi, I have reviewed the logs of the conflict, and
have found that you and Captain Hagen acted in accordance with
Federation law, despite a certain… melodrama… during the negotiations.
Therefore, you and your crew are without blame, and will return to duty.”
Takashi breathed, for what seemed the first time in days. “Thank
you, sir. I…”
“Furthermore, because of the untimely demise of Captain Hagen,
you would have been promoted to Captain of the Challenger…”
“Would have?”
“… but his own reports and my recommendation have carried their
own weight. As of 1800 today, you are now promoted to the rank of
Captain.”
Takashi was stunned. “I’m honored, but…”
“Captain, may I finish? Our survey teams found that the Challenger
is unsalvageable, and no new frigate commands are opening up. The crew
will be re-assigned.”
“Then why was I made Captain?”
“Your promotion has a string attached. You will be assigned onto a
prototype ship called the USS Doyle. You will be assigned to a partial
command staff which has already been assembled, and you will be
transferred from Starfleet.”
“Transferred?”
“Yes, Captain. You are now transferred from Exploration into
Intelligence. Although I am not your immediate superior, you will continue
to receive orders from me for the time being.”
“I see.”
“You may now ask questions.”
“How badly was the Challenger damaged?”
“The complete analysis is on the file in front of you, but there were
severe hull breaches, and the warp core was fused. There was nothing to be
done.”
“And my crew?”
“As I said, most will be re-assigned. You may retain a few
recommendations for transfer, as long as I approve them.”
“I’ll have those on your desk…”
“… in one hour, Captain. The Missouri leaves tomarrow for the
Utopia Planitia shipyards, where the Doyle is moored. Dismissed.”
Takashi stood up, her head spinning. Her entire life had changed in
five minutes, and now she had an hour to decide the lives of others. She
saluted, grabbed the PADD from the Admiral’s desk, and left.
* * * * *
“You called for me, Commander?”
Lt. Bradley stood outside of Takashi’s temporary quarters, at
attention. Takashi sighed and motioned to Bradley.
“Three things, Bradley. One, at ease. Two, it’s Captain now, not
Commander. And three, call me Sara for the moment. I need some
advice.”
Bradley stepped inside the spartan room and sat down. “Well one,
of course, my feet were killing me anyways. Two, congratulations, but
three, why me? And please don’t say because I’m Betazoid, because I hate
that.”
Takashi laughed. “No, Lorano. I just wanted to talk to someone
who knows me a little, that’s all.”
Bradley laughed. “I hardly know you, Comm… Sara, but I’ll try.
What’s wrong?”
Takashi handed the PADD over to Bradley. “The Challenger is
scuttled, and the crew reassigned. I’ve been transferred to SFI, but I can
take a few people with me to my new command.”
“SFI? No offense, but you’re a Starfleet captain, not a spy.”
“I thought so too, but not only do I have a history of command
experience, but my family’s been involved in a number of intelligence
operations in the past, with the Cardassians and the Borg. Plus, I spent
some time training with the Marines, so I know a little of everything.”
“Okay, but no one else on the Challenger knows anything similar.”
“I agree, but I’m getting a partial command staff. I need a Security
officer and an Engineering officer.”
“Hm. Who’d you have in mind?”
“Well, I wanted Zimmerman, but he’s been rejected. In fact, all my
choices for Engineering have been rejected.”
“Well, what about Security?”
“You have some Security training, don’t you?”
“Of course, I was Security chief on the…” Bradley paused. “You
want ME as Security?”
“Why not?”
“Well… I mean… I got used to Science…”
“Come on, Lorano. It’s a guaranteed promotion, it’s a field you’re
familiar with, and I could use a friend on a new ship.”
“A friend, or a Betazoid?” Bradley looked hard at her.
Takashi smiled. “Both.”
Bradley stared at her for a few moments, and smiled. “Alright. I’m
in. When do we leave?”
“Now. We travel to the shipyards, where our new ship awaits.”
“What’s her name?”
Takashi stopped and looked at Bradley, the excitement glistening in
her eyes. “USS Doyle.”
End of Chapter 2
AUTHOR’S NOTE
————-
First off, my deepest apologies for the lateness of this chapter. I have had
the worst few months, with work, school, and losing not one but TWO
computers (plus all my SFI info) to hard drive crashes.
Since the crash, I had to re-invent a lot of SFI, but I think the work was
worth it, since the story will now be tighter and more believable. Bradley is
now a major character, and so is Maron. Saboc will also be transferred to
the Doyle, so expect more out of him.
I’m also changing how I write SFI. Instead of laboring and polishing every
last syllable, I will write and check each chapter quickly, so I can get them
out as fast as possible (hopefully twice a month). Then, when I have more
time, I’ll collect a dozen or so chapters and re-write them into a “book”,
which will be re-posted. The plot will remain the same in the books, but
the detail and characterization will be deeper.
Also, once the characters are united, I plan to release a Writer’s Guide, to
allow others to write in the SFI universe.
If you have any comments, suggestions, ideas or questions, feel free to
email me at eddywebb@hotmail.com.
ESW 01/05/98