Fellowship & Fairydust

By Ariel Klay and the Members of the Starship Asimov Fan Club

Word Count: Story in Progress, to be determined.

Rating: PG-13 (minor blood and sensual content)

Summary: The Adventures of the Crew of Starfleet Science vessel USS Asimov. 

Ship’s counselor’s log: Stardate 8890871.4, Commander James Troi, reporting: I have just accepted the position of chief science officer and ship’s counselor aboard the U.S.S. Asimov, a science vessel commanded by Captain Amanda McCoy. Having met her and a few members of her crew, I can see my new assignment should prove to be most interesting. First of all, the captain herself is a hybrid that would drive most genetics wild: human, Klingon, Vulcan and Romulan. She is a woman of keen intelligence, curiosity and directness. She seems to prefer to surround herself with people who are not afraid to offer differing opinions. Her first officer, Commander Stevens is a solid bloke whose quiet disposition provides the captain the necessary ballast when she needs to hear the voice of calm and reason. Her chief medical officer, Dr. Aquina Altara, is an old friend of mine from Starfleet Medical, whose knowledge of the crew will be invaluable to me. Lieutenant Kahra, the ship’s chief tactical officer is a female Klingon who respects her captain as a fellow warrior. The most unusual officer I have met is Lieutenant Junior Grade Clyde Twig. He works in engineering and appears to be what some humans would call a “hillbilly.” A most colorful person, he is valued for his unconventional thinking, but his loud mind is troubling to his half human and half Betazoid commanding officer, who happens to by my cousin, Lieutenant Commander N’ka Gallagar, the ship’s chief engineer. I very much looking forward to serving with him, if only to help his assistant Twig “quiet” his mind. If the lunch I had with the captain, her first officer, Dr. Altara, my cousin, and the Lieutenants Kahra and Twig is any indication, this assignment should prove to be my most “fascinating” yet. I recall that when Twig announced that he and Captain McCoy are cousins, she replied,

“Distant cousins,” smiled the captain, “and no Mr. Troi, I didn’t know he was family when he joined my crew.”

“Wait, I didn’t hear Mr. Troi say anythin’,” Twig eyed the captain suspiciously, “Y’all talkin’ ’bout me?”

“Lieutenant,” sighed Amanda, “It doesn’t take a mind reader to know that Mr. Troi would have questioned how two relatives could serve on the same ship. However, I suppose with his cousin serving on the same ship that would be a case of the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Oh, okay,” said Twig, “Jes don’ make a habit of it, please?”

At that moment, the waitress brought out their food. Twig looked at his gagh and told the waiter, “Miss, I didn’t ask for fish bait.”

“Hmph, I knew he couldn’t stomach gagh,” said Kahra.

At this, Twig steeled himself as he watched the captain and Kahra pick up their chopsticks. Kahra waited for the captain to begin, who held her chopsticks over the wriggling creatures and in flash caught a few with a loud and throaty, “Gotcha!,” and slurped them into her mouth like so many live ramen noodles.

“She likes her gagh,” said Trevor to James.

“Evidently,” agreed James.

As Kahra dug into her gagh, Twig asked, “Do I have to use them sticks?”

“No, your hands are fine,” said N’ka, who then waived over for the waitress, “I’ll take an order of gagh, please.”

“You still have an appetite for Klingon food, eh, N’ka?” smiled James.

“Cut my teeth on it,” smiled Gallagar, “What else would a Klingon eat?”

“Goodness,” smiled Amanda, “That must be a family story, a child of a human father and Betazoid mother who perish at a Starfleet outpost, only to be adopted by a Klingon friend of the family? Only I must say it makes life easier for me knowing he can handle me when my Klingon temper starts to give way.”

“Oh that’s easy,” said N’ka, “Crack a joke, especially a good, bad pun.”

“With all due respect, Captain,” said Kahra, “I am sure Commander Gallagar would agree that by Klingon standards, you are very even tempered.”

“Oh, yes I quite agree,” said N’ka, “but at times the captain can be odd tempered.”

Amanda rolled her eyes, “What I don’t understand is why you tempt fate by trying to rile me, Commander?”

“Because I can,” N’ka smiled, “and it’s so much fun!”

The captain sighed, looked around and noticed Twig was picking at his gagh.

“Please, don’t play with your food, Lieutenant,” she snapped, “I hate to see good gagh go to waste.

“Yes, Mom, I mean ma’am, I mean Cap’n,” he mumbled.

“I am not your mother,” she sighed, “thank Heavens.”

N’ka was served his gagh, which he quickly dug into, “Go on, it’s actually quite good, if it’s fresh.”

“Nothing is worse than stale gagh,” Kahra shook her head.

“Just try it,” smiled the captain, “and I’ll let you fill in Mr. Troi on the specs of the Asimov.”

“It’s a deal!” Twig nearly shouted and grabbed a handful and almost choked on it, but swallowed it with determination, “Say, that ain’t half bad, kinda like live noodles. Now hold on, Cap’n, let me finish this, y’all promised I could spill the beans on the Asimov.“

“It is so nice of you to join us for a meal, N’ka,” said Aquina, gently patting him on the shoulder, “We see so little of you.”

“Engineering keeps me so busy, Doctor,” smiled N’ka, “I rarely have time to eat, let alone to chat.”

“Still,” smiled Aquina, “it is so important to be sociable.”

Sooner than it would have been thought possible, Twig swallowed the last of the gagh and said, “Heer’s the skinny on the Asimov, Mr. Troi. She is that Deefiant class ship you saw parked out yonder.”

“Ah, that explains the limited living space,” nodded James.

“Yessir, Mr. Troi,” smiled Twig, “It’s an old ship leftover from the Dominion War, but me an’ Commander Gallagar keep ‘er in tip-top shape!”

“But surely it doesn’t have cloaking technology?” asked James, “I understand the Romulans only provided that for the Defiant with the understanding Starfleet would not duplicate it.”

“Yessir, that is so,” said Twig, “But the Feds made other ships of the same deesign and later on, Cap’n McCoy’s half-Klingon mama hep’d us git a Klingon cloak for this here ship, and now Lewtenant Kahra’s daddy, who’s the Klingon ambassador te earth, keeps us up in eyeballs with parts. An’ what he can’t get us, me an’ Commander Gallagar can scrounge up.”

“Perfect,” James nodded enthusiastically, “especially for clandestine observation of a planet.”

“Clanwhat?” asked Twig.

“Secret observation,” said N’ka.

“Oh, yeah,” said Twig, “We done plenty a those, especially pre-warp planets. An it’s handy when we got to scoot out quiet like. An when we cain’t, that girl is armed to the teeth ef we have to shoot our way out. An that girl is fitted out with so much mem’ry an’ all, we hardly have to come out to a starbase to dump it. Our cupboards is bare food-wise mos’ of the time ‘fore our mem’ry core is full. We also can get anywhar in a hurry if we is needed for a fight.”

“In other words,” smiled N’ka proudly, “the Asimov is the Federation’s ace in the hole.”

“Yeah, if you’re lookin’ for borin’,” said Twig, “keepa goin’, cause they ain’t nothin’ borin’ ’bout serving on the Asimov!”

“Well, with someone like Captain McCoy at the helm,” smiled James at N’ka, “I don’t see how that would even be possible.”

The captain looked at N’ka and James, “Oh, no, don’t tell me I’m going to be teased in stereo!”

“Hey!” yelled Twig, “Y’all leave the cap’n alone, ye hear!?”

Amanda, James, N’ka and Aquina rubbed their ears in discomfort and the captain said, “We all heard you quite clearly, Lieutenant. There is no need to shout.”

“I’m sorry,” said Twig softly, “Mr. Troi, I’ll start them quiet mind lessuns soon as ya’ll settle in.”

“When will we be departing, Captain?” asked James.

“Commander Stevens and I will be meeting with other prospective personnel and expect to leave in the next twelve hours,” said Amanda, “Meanwhile, I am sure your cousin would be happy to show you around the ship and to your quarters, at least the ones you’ll be staying in until we reconfigure the ship’s sleeping arrangements to allow for crew changes.”

“Yep,” said Twig, “It happens ever’ time we take on new folks. The Asimov only has room for fifty an’ that’s with two to three people sleepin’ per room. So everbody plays musical chairs when we stop off at a starbase. Shoot, they’s might put you, your couzin an’ me in one room!”

James and N’ka stared at each other, but said nothing.

“Hey,” said Twig, “Ya’ll better not be talkin’ ’bout me again!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” murmured Mr. Troi.

A few hours later aboard the Asimov, N’ka walked the hallways with James and Lieutenant Twig, who carried James’ luggage.

“So, N’ka, how long have you been serving aboard the Asimov?” asked James.

“A few months,” said N’ka.

“Eenough time te shake thangs up,” said Twig, “An I thought the cap’n liked thangs ship-shape!”

“Really,” said James, his eyebrow rose, “My cousin is a perfectionist?”

“Mr. Troi,” Twig leaned in confidentially, “Cap’n McCoy may be in command, but yo’ couzin treats the Asimov like his baby doll. Nothin’ is too good for her!”

“So you found your true love, assignment wise, N’ka,” James nodded approvingly.

“She is a fine vessel,” smiled N’ka, “strong and fast!”

“Yep,” smiled Twig, “the commander and the Asimov, they’s a match made in Heaven!”

The three came into Mr. Troi’s quarters, a rather small room that had one set of bunk beds that were built into the bulkhead, built-in drawers, a closet, a replicator, a small desk and two chairs. Twig set James’ luggage on the lower bed.

“These are family quarters?” asked James.

“Snug, ain’t they,” said Twig, “Course if the happy couple wants a little breathin’ room, they can always get some holodeck time, keeps us all from goin’ plum loco some times.”

“Lieutenant,” said N’ka, “how are the ship’s supplies? We wouldn’t want to run short of coffee, again.”

“We’s fine, Sir,” said Twig, “I looked over the manifests ‘for I went over to the starbase.”

“All right then,” said N’ka, “since we have a few hours, run a level four diagnostic on the ship’s warp core.”

“Did that yesterday,” smiled Twig, “when you was a’sleepin.'”

“In that case, check our weapons storage.”

“Did that when the diagnostic was runnin.”

“Tell me, Lieutenant,” grinned James, “have you gone over every inch of this ship with a fine-tooth comb in the last few days?”

“Like I said,” explained Twig, “the Asimov may be Cap’n McCoy’s ship, but she’s the commander’s baby doll. The last thang I want is to be caught asleep on th’ job.”

N’ka brightened and said, “I understand we took on a new style of photon torpedoes, and Lieutenant Kahra will be overseeing their installation-“

“Can I hep’ her!?” interrupted Twig, “Glad to!” and he shot out of the room.

“He doesn’t take a hint well, does he, Cousin?” thought James.

“No, but he is a good officer,” thought N’ka, “rough as he is around the edges.”

“It is good to see you happy, N’ka, I know it has been painful for you since J’ashih’s death. How long has it been?”

“Two and a half years.”

“The loss of a wife is never easy, I should know. It is good to see you surrounded by friends, even if you do avoid them.”

“PLEASE don’t play counselor, Cousin,” growled N’ka, “J’ashih died with honor. I have no doubt I will see her in Stovokor.”

“And here you are, back on a Starfleet vessel, surrounded by Klingons,” chuckled James.

“Yes, of all the vessels and all the assignments,” smiled N’ka ruefully, “I find myself on a Starfleet ship with a Klingon in command!”

“And what a commander!” thought James, his eyes twinkling, “I imagine she is what humans call, ‘a live wire.'”

N’ka laughed aloud at this and said, “You’ve got that right, Cousin!”

“And you take particular delight in torturing her!” smiled James, wagging his finger.

“Oh, she knows it’s all in good fun. Besides, she rather enjoys it deep down, nothing like a little verbal sparring, one warrior to another.”

“I don’t know, from what I have read of her, you better be careful. Otherwise, she may forget this is a Starfleet vessel and let her fists do the talking.”

Gallagar waved his hand dismissively, “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“N’ka, she may be smaller than you. But she is part Vulcan and Klingon, so she is more than your equal in strength.”

“Strength only means so much and I am far better trained in combat. Besides, I have already spared with her.”

“Who won, dare I ask?”

“Cousin,” N’ka sighed with exasperation, “sparing is practice. There was no killing involved.”

“That is not what I meant.”

At that moment, the door chimed.

“Commander Stevens,” thought James and N’ka, and James said aloud, “Enter.”

“Knock, knock,” said Trevor, rapping his knuckles on the bulkhead, “How do you like your digs?”

“They are sufficient,” said James with a slight grin.

“Spoken like a true Vulcan,” chuckled Trevor, “I hope you don’t mind living out of your suitcase until we reconfigure sleeping arrangements.”

“You and the captain found the crew replacements, already?” said N’ka, sounding impressed, “That was fast!”

“This is your first crew rotation, N’ka,” smiled Trevor, “You’ll find the captain doesn’t mess around.”

“Is she going to take some down time?” asked James, “Or do I or Doctor Altara have to issue her a medical order?”

N’ka snorted in his mind, “The captain is a warrior, not an orchid!”

“I can see having an empathic ship’s counselor will come in handy,” Trevor chuckled, “I did remind her that the doctor would notice if she were pushing herself too hard. I took the liberty to reserve some holodeck time for her before we docked. She is probably in the middle of her Klingon calisthenics program while we speak.”

“So when does she relax?” asked James.

“When she’s asleep as far as I can tell,” said Trevor.

N’ka grunted in his thoughts, “Calisthenics is relaxing!”

James looked at Trevor and N’ka and said, “I can tell I have my work cut out for me.”

“All I can say is good luck,” said Trevor, “I have served with her for years and other counselors and doctors have not succeeded in getting her to slow down.”

“Ah, a challenge,” smiled James.

“If there is anything my cousin likes,” N’ka frowned, “it’s a challenge!”

“Meanwhile,” smiled Trevor, “We all have some down time. How about I get us some coffee in the galley?”

“You guys go on ahead,” said N’ka, “I want to enjoy some rack time while Twig is at work.”

“You don’t want to catch up with your cousin?” asked Trevor.

“Nah, I need some alone time,” said N’ka, “If he’s going to work with the captain, he’s going to need all the inside information from you he can get!”

With that, N’ka vigorously struck the wall, opened a hatch above them and climbed out of the room, leaving James and Trevor gazing at each other.

“Wow, he is private, Mr. Troi,” said Trevor, shaking his head, “I thought for sure he would want to hang out with you!”

“There is a lot more to my cousin than meets the eye,” said James, “The loss of his parents at such a young age was very traumatic, plus by being raised by a non-telepath/empath, he did not learn early on how to shield himself from the emotions he picks up from others. He has chosen the way of the warrior and the clown to cope, so he finds the need to be by himself to rest.”

“I guess it would really help if we could find a way to get him quarters with someone other than Twig,” said Trevor softly, “I had no idea being around all those feelings could be so difficult. It was only today I found out he sleeps in the access passages. Why didn’t he just say something?”

“He is a warrior,” said James simply, “Does your captain complain easily?”

“No, sometimes I think she is a glutton for punishment.”

“There you have it, two warriors who sometimes need others to look out for them.”

“Would you be willing to bunk with your cousin?”

“I believe that would be agreeable,” nodded James.

“Now all I have to do is figure out is who gets stuck with Lieutenant Twig,” smiled Trevor.

Both laughed heartily.

Later that day, Trevor entered the holodeck where Amanda was getting a manicure and pedicure.

“This is a change, Amanda!” smiled Trevor, “What happened to the workout?”

“Over and done, Trevor! I thought my claws needed some work. So was I right about N’ka, is he really unhappy bunking with Twig?”

“Miserable, but Mr. Troi agreed to share his quarters with his cousin. I gotta ask you, how did you know?”

“Call it woman’s intuition,” she smiled, “It comes in handy in my job! The Vulcan and Romulan blood doesn’t hurt, either. Sit down, get a facial, you’ll feel like a whole new man!”

Trevor smiled, sat down and an attendant wrapped a drape around him, “You’re just like a mother with eyes in the back of her head.”

“Yeah,” giggled Amanda, “but the pay is much better! So, my friend, are you ready to see what’s out there?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Trevor, “Ready for a new adventure!”

End of Chapter 1 “The Journey Begins,” be on the lookout for Chapter Two “Settling In.”

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