First Impressions

Posted on Mon Dec 5th, 2022 @ 7:22pm by Lieutenant JG Evelyn Stewart & Captain Maxwell Culver

1,810 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Mission One: Goodwill Tour [Part One]
Location: Triton Seabase; Triton Tower
Timeline: MD 14: 0900 hours

Stewart was beginning her final approach towards Amphitrite. “Triton Seabase, this is Shuttlecraft Apollo enroute from Psi Upsilon III, requesting permission to land.”

“Standby for identification and clearance confirmation.”, said a cold voice that could only have been Romulan.

After several long minutes of orbiting the atmosphere, the voice finally came back on the channel. “Confirmation confirmed. Permission granted. Lieutenant Stewart you are ordered to land on auxiliary landing dock beta. Once landed, proceed to main dock at Triton Tower immediately.” The transmission was quickly cut off.

Evelyn took a deep breath and muttered about Romulans before proceeding to land. She found it curious she would be ordered to an auxiliary dock, she suspected there wouldn’t much traffic, given she saw no ships leaving orbit.

Passing the upper atmosphere, the planet came into view. The natural beauty of the planet temporary left her awestruck. She could see why Amphitrite was considered a paradise. She took a slightly longer route to the base to take in the view.

Upon approaching the sea base, she could see why she was redirected as there was a large gathering on the main docks. It no doubt was meant to celebrate this new found partnership. The two bases, the old one donned in the Romulan Empires colors and flags, and the new Starfleet base were in stark contrast, only confirming to Stewart her suspicions. Regardless, Evelyn made for the dock she was assigned and quickly landed. Heeding the instructions given to her, the lieutenant left her belongings on the shuttle and ventured out to find her way to Triton Tower.

With the show over, Max was wandering the Tower. He had seen it before, but in pictures, without the Romulan flags and colors. It seemed more sad now, clinging to something that essentially was no more. Mindlessly, he wandered. Thoughts of the launch the next day, the strange feeling when he was around Jack that he had felt. The Romulan indifference to them except his hateful XO. So much blaring in his head.

He almost didn’t realize where he was until the shuttle fired thrusters and landed. He remembered a new arrival, but the name escaped his overwhelmed and racing mind.

One more thing to add to the list.

Evelyn walked past the smattering of Romulans that leered at her coldly on the dock. She eyed them just as guarded. Like many in Starfleet, she didn’t trust them. That mean she didn’t understand them on some level. Years spent on Vulcan exposed her to certain nuances to their culture and philosophies that was lost on many humans. Unlike their cousins, these people felt emotions, loved. They did so fiercely. That kind of passion left one vulnerable and needed to be guarded just as fiercely. It was a pity so many sought to learn the ways of the Vulcans.

Walking around the tower, the engineering marvel that it clearly once was, Stewart saw a young Starfleet officer seemingly doing the same and approached, hoping to be directed towards the of the Starfleet officer in charge.

“Excuse me, my name is Lieutenant Stewart. I’m the chief helmsman who has been assigned to the sea base. Can you tell me where I can find the commanding officer?” She asked, the sun putting the man in silhouette.

“Welcome to Triton Seabase Lieutenant Stewart. You’ve just met your commanding officer. I’m Captain Maxwell Culver. Until we hit the boat, you can call me Max. Not much for rank…” he admitted.

Stewart wouldn’t be able to hide the surprise on her face at such a young looking and casual man being captain of an entire base. Once she collected herself, she offered her hand. “Evelyn,” she said with a friendly smile and nodded in a subtle agreement. “Forgive me, but you seem quite young to be a captain. Are you an admiral’s grandson or something?”

Max actually smiled. “Or something. El Aurian and I’m fifty. I earned the pips, Lieutenant. I promise,” he responded to her query. “As a ‘young’ El Aurian, I’ll look this way for quite some time, does that bother you?”

Evelyn gave her own genuine smile in return as they walked, subtly shaking her head. “On the contrary, it’s refreshing. I’ve grown tired of seeing captains past their prime whose only concern is bucking for Admiral,” she admitted honestly, but with clear playfulness in her tone.

“Admiralty, where bad captains go to die. I’m told there was once a state on Earth called Florida, it was idiomatic that this was the destination to die place. That’s the admiralty,” he responded. “Bureaucratic, pencil pushing death awaiters. I’ll walk away long before then, I’m not spending several hundred years sitting on my ass while I wait to go gray.”

Evelyn couldn't help but laugh as she nodded her agreement with man's sentiment. She liked Max, even if she felt compelled to keep her guard up around him. In her experience, El-Aurians in Starfleet tended to be therapists. She had no intention of speaking to one, formally or otherwise.

As they walked towards the main group, her eyes surveyed the Romulans who looked bored to tears. “It’s clever of Starfleet Command to send an El-Aurian as a commanding officer. Skilled listeners with empathic abilities that can pass for human. Smart,” she commented quietly as much to herself as to him.

He matched her quietude. “Then they picked the wrong El Aurian. My people are known throughout the galaxy as a race of listeners. To be honest, I don’t have the time or give a fuck for all that. I think they didn’t want me on a ship where I could blow some shit up and cause diplomatic nightmares.”

Evelyn was surprised by his candor, but didn’t show it. “But I still don’t know why I was transferred. I don’t doubt you read my service record. It’s surprising you’d have them drag a flight instructor halfway across the quadrant,” she said bluntly, subtly glancing at him to see if she could get into insight.

Max pulled out a handheld PaDD and looked at her record to refresh his memory. Usually, he had almost perfect recall. The base had dozens of people arriving and only two he had chosen. “Hmmm.” It wasn’t a statement on her competency; she clearly had an affinity toward Intel. Presumably, being a pilot meant more than joining Intel.

“You’ve got quite a few demerits, Lieutenant,” he answered honestly. “Based on your record, you seemed more suited for Intel but ended up a pilot. I’d guess you’re unhappy in your current position. I’m also guessing they’re doing to you what they’ve done with me, put me in a place where I can’t cause admiralty headaches or just shoot from the hip?” he suggested.

Any questions as to why the captain was being put out of the way by the admiralty quickly vanished. Stewart’s face and tone dropped as she eyed the PaDD. "It was a difficult time." She said quickly with a defensive tone, a tad rude even. Catching herself, she quickly relied on a calming exercise drilled into her as a child. She take a deep breath and adjusted her posture, hands moving behind her back, as she took a moment to regain her emotional control and center herself.

Finding herself again, she realized that Culver made no mention of the K-7 incident or of Desmond. He also didn’t request her transfer. The captain didn't do any research beyond a cursory glance at her personnel file. She was dumped on him. "My name came up during an investigation between Starfleet Intelligence and Security.” She said honestly, but in the vaguest of terms, “Though nothing came of it, it was decided that my career as an Intel officer was no longer....appropriate." She said bitterly.

"I have no family, so I think the Brass felt they were doing me a favor in throwing me a bone and transferring to the piloting program since I had experience, but the damage was done." Stewart speculated. "I may be better suited as an Intel officer, but I'm still one of the best damn pilots in this fleet. Command just refuses to admit it. So yes, frankly, I am not happy to reassigned to Amphitrite, but if the Brass wants to put their little problem children in the corner, that's fine by me.

“The Romulans call it Ihhuein ei'krih. Don’t let them hear you call it Amphitrite anymore,” Max warned. “We lost the planet after the evacuation, and by all rights they annexed it as their own home. Anyway,” he paused. “I wouldn’t call us the problem children. We maybe a little more eccentric, but we’re still a fine crew.”

Max meant it. So far, everyone he’d met would be a fine addition. Once Stewart was introduced to the Somersby her attitude would change. She would be flying the most advanced starship into the least known places in the Beta Quadrant. For now, the ship had to remain classified.

Evelyn let out a sigh in an attempt to mask her frustration at the political games. “Yes, sir. Whatever you need of me,” she said more formally than needed. “At least there are worse things than Romulan ale on a paradise planet. Too bad both are wasted on the Romulans,” she joked.

“They do seem to be quite a dour people,” Max agreed. Lowering his voice, his eyes scrolling across the crowd, he added, “There are a few smiles, but not a genuine smile among the group. Dour faces hidden behind political niceties and pretend smiles. If I’ve ever met a people that needed an enema, the Romulans are them.”

Evelyn surveyed the crowd as well. “Not much of a party is it?” she asked rhetorically, in agreement with his assessment. “Romulans are not known for being expressive outside of their own families.”

“In response to this sorry excuse for a party, I’ll be hosting an actual party at my house tonight. An evening of debauchery and alcohol enough for ten crews. I expect I’ll see you there then?” he wondered.

Evelyn smiled at the thought. “An evening of alcohol and debauchery on a paradise planet? Sounds like Risa my senior year at the Academy. I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Max.” She grinned in agreement.

Max smirked. “Consider this your official invite,” he told her. Motioning to the political party, he said, “Drop by around 20 hundred hours. This will be a night to remember,” he said with exuberance. “Or not…”

Evelyn nodded in agreement, “Yes, Sir.” She said, her smirk matching his.

 

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