Chapter 1: The Brave and the Bold (part 3)

Quietly, Doctor Jayvin Cyl also took his pin, grabbed his bag and went to get a drink, looking clearly distracted by something as he did.

Something deep down in Jayvin gave him a foreboding about this mission and its captain. He knew it had to do with Cyl, but Cyl didn't seem willing to tell him why, only that he had bad feeling about this.

Jayvin quietly went out to The Neutral Zone and sat in the back of the bar, sipping his berry ale as he closely watched the new captain talk to his first officer. Cyl was clearly hiding something from his host about his new ship and captain; all he was willing to give up was that the Captain was almost a dead ringer for his forefather.

A short while later, Jayvin walked down the boarding hallway with a large smile and a female Orion around his arm. He had been contacted to board earlier but, during his walk to the ship, he had met up with this beauty and one thing led to another.

While Cyl did not like the distraction or being late, Jayvin needed the reprieve from whatever had Cyl worked up and, luckily for him, as the Chief Medical Officer, he didn't have many things to check before departure.

As they got close to the ship's airlock access, Jayvin pulled his arm away from her and pulled out a PADD to show the security officer around the corner.

"Lieutenant Commander Doctor Cyl, requesting permission to come aboard," he said with a smile to the security officer.

"You check out, Sir." The officer said after a quick glance over the PADD.

Jayvin nodded to the man before he moved through the airlock.

"And you, Ma'am?" Security officer asked with authority.

She just smiled and quietly walked up to him as she swayed her hips.

"Here you go, Sir," she replied with a coy tone while offering him her own orders.

The officer cleared his throat as he glanced down at her PADD.

"Your clearly to board Miss D'Nessia Keros"

"Oh you can just call me D'Nessia." She said as she picked up her bag and took a few steps towards the airlock to follow the ship's doctor.

* * *

After the meeting ended, engineering Lieutenant Hanson wordlessly grabbed the offered combadge then decided to take the time left before departure to go back and finish the work on the isolinear circuits he had been working on earlier, hoping that the place hadn't burnt down during his absence.

After doing some work on his isolinear circuits, and satisfied enough that they were the most efficient they could be, he decided that he would go down to the local bar for a drink. But he would not walk out the door until finishing his newest completed project, until he could be satisfied having perfected a new objective, adding a new improvement under his belt.

Only then Hanson would enter the bar, quietly, as usual, walk over to an empty seat, and order a Saurian Brandy to the Ferengi barkeep.

But for now, he had work to do.

For his part, Brian Archer grabbed the communicator off the table and fastened it to his uniform. Then, without so much as a word to any of the other officers, he exited the meeting room.

He passed through the outer office and onto the promenade area where he tapped the new combadge.

"Archer to Strider,"

"I'm here," Cassie's voice responded

"Where is here?"

"I'm nursing a cup of coffee at a small cafe just down from the main club."

"I'll see you in a few, Archer out."

Brian walked across the promenade noting that there was indeed a beehive of activity on Starbase 39 much of which he attributed to the Icarus and of course the Hobus supernova. Brian found the main club, and then proceeded down two storefronts until he caught sight of Cassie sitting at a table in the less crowded cafe, a cup of coffee in front of her, and her personal PADD in her hand. Brian walked in and sat down across from her.

"So what can you tell me," she asked

"Not much here, most of it is classified"

"Typical Starfleet; can you at least tell me what we're working with?"

"Excelsior Class, rebuilt from the frame up, latest weapons and tech."

Brian pulled out his personal PADD and slid it toward Cassie so she could see the notes he'd taken on the Icarus tactical specifications. Cassie read them over and whistled

"They didn't pull any punches."

"Not one. You think we can handle it?"

"I'll let you know when I find out what we're doing."

"Fair enough," Brian said with small smirk.

At that moment Brian's communicator chirped.

"Icarus to Commander Archer."

"That was fast," Cassie remarked
Brian tapped the device.

"Archer here."

"Commander Rice here, I'm one of the project managers. The ship is ready to receive you, the Admiral has ordered it be swept by security prior to allowing any other crew aboard."

"Understood, have any security officers aboard meet me in the main cargo bay in thirty minutes."

"Aye Sir, Icarus out."

Brian looked across at Cassie.

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

They left the table together and made their way through the promenade area to a lift which they took down to the docking area. From there they proceeded to the secure dock where the Icarus was berthed. Two security guards met them as they approached.

"Please identify yourself, Commander; this is a restricted area," one of them said.

"Commander Archer, the Icarus Chief of Security, and this is Lieutenant Strider."

The officer pulled out his PADD and looked at it for a moment.

"Confirmed, you can both proceed, sorry for the delay, Sir."

Brian started to pass then stopped, and looked sternly at the young ensign.

"No, you keep doing your job Ensign, and never say you're sorry, it’s a sign of weakness."

Brian and Cassie boarded the Icarus through the airlock and as they stepped inside they were met by a commander wearing the gold tunic of a security/engineering officer.

"Commander Archer?" he asked

"Yes Sir."

"Commander Rice," he said offering his hand which Brian accepted and shook. "I'm one of the Icarus Project managers. About a quarter of the security complement is waiting for you in the cargo bay."

"And the other three quarters?"

"Not reported yet."

"Well, then we'll make do with what we have. Can you show us to our quarters, Commander, so we can at least drop our bags?"

"No problem; just follow me."

Brian and Cassie followed Rice to the nearest turbolift and they made small talk as they travelled to the officers' quarters. They stopped at Brian's first and he deposited his bag and then they let Cassie drop her things in her room as well before proceeding to the main cargo bay.

"I'll leave you here," Commander Rice said; "Just contact the Admiral when you're satisfied everything is safe."

Brian nodded and turned to Cassie "Okay, here we go."

They entered the cargo bay where several security officers were gathered and were talking amongst themselves. Brian walked over until he was standing in front of the group and then he let out a shrill whistle. Every eye in the cargo bay turned on him.

"Thank you," he said. "Ladies and gentlemen, I am Lieutenant Commander Archer, and you will be working for me. Next to me is Lieutenant Strider who will be my assistant so you will be working for her as well. Our first mission is to sweep this ship for security threats from top to bottom. There are seventeen decks and what looks like about twenty of us. We will split into five four man teams. We are looking for explosives, any chemicals left behind, any tools left behind, and anything else that might pose a hazard to the crew once they are aboard. Officers meet with Strider and I up here and we will divide up people and responsibilities."

Dividing up the people and the work and took only a few minutes and soon the security teams were spread out throughout the Icarus with tricorders searching each compartment on each deck. The bridge, main engineering, the torpedo rooms, and computer core areas received special attention as did the crew quarters areas. It took them nearly five hours to complete the entire search and they met back in the cargo bay where all of the things they found were piled up on a cargo loader.

"Five plasma torches, two plasma welders, three containers of paint, two hand lights." Cassie said taking stock of the items "What do we do with them?"

"Destroy them," Brian replied. "That will teach them to leave their tools behind."

"You're the boss," Cassie replied

Brian tapped his combadge "Commander Archer to Admiral Kelek."

"Yes Commander,"

"Sir, the Icarus is secure."

"Very good Commander; Kelek out."

Brian turned to another of the officers, a sandy haired human who was only a couple of inches shorter than Brian.

"Mister..."

"Callen, Sir."

"Callen, assign extra security teams to main engineering until the engineering crew is aboard and reinforce the guard at the boarding area. The crew will be arriving soon."

"Aye Sir, will do."

"And Callen,"

"Sir?"

"Arm them. We're not taking chances."

"Yes Sir."

Satisfied that things were in hand Brian headed for his quarters to work on unpacking his things.

* * *

M'elena had left the meeting and made her way back to the large replimat on Starbase 39. There, she had replicated a large raw steak and had walked to an empty table. The Caitian suddenly could have sworn she had spotted an old family friend.

She shook her head.

It couldn't had been uncle Yana. The older human had seen much of Earth and Cait, it was after all one of the old man's favorite routes for trading.

Yana she knew was a few steps ahead of the legendary or infamous, depending on your view, Harcourt Fenton Mudd, although Yana would never stoop to selling women for crystals.

M'elena laughed softly; alright the tribble he'd brought her home had been a sweet pet, although she'd had to have it check out first. She heard about what tribbles could do with the smallest amount of food.

She tore into the large steak, mewing softly. The flavour was great in her mouth.

It soon tasted like ash however as she thought of the Romulans.

She'd been on a trip with Uncle Yana a few years back, where she'd personally seen the handiwork of the Romulans. Cynus XI... She shivered, remembering the smashed domes of the colony.

She swallowed, trying to keep the bile down where it belonged. She'd only seen one body before Yana had scooped her up and back into the ship. The burnt black body was something she would never forget, especially not the face; the person had been screaming when the disruptor blast had caught him, freezing all its horror and pain in death.

M'elena swallowed and gave up on the steak. She quickly recycled it and slowly made her way towards the Icarus.

Part of her extended family had died at Cynus XI.

"Romulans....Let them die..." she commented softly to herself.

She continued her walk and spotted two large Human security officers watching over the hatch to the Icarus. She continued to walk towards them, swayed a bit and put her hand out to steady herself a little.

"I wish she'd stop pussy footing around" commented one of the security officers.

"Very drool. I've heard it all before Lieutenant. I do not pussyfoot around and neither do I have nine lives; I only have one. I do not always land on my feet, the cat has never got my tongue... I have heard all the feline jokes before and now they are very boring," M'elena commented back.

The Caitian padded closer and handed over her chit. The small black card with the Starfleet delta went into a reader.

"Lieutenant Commander Richards, Chief Science Officer; permission to board?" M'elena asked.

The other security guard nodded and gave M'elenea her chit back. She made her way onto the ship and started for the bridge.

* * *

Falcar was the last one to stand up and to make his way to the front table to reach for his badge. He placed his on his left chest and then nodded to the Admiral and Captain who had led the meeting. As everyone had been dismissed, Falcar walked out of the conference room and past the receptionist. He entered the main corridor of the starbase, and went straight to the promenade, his two bags he had kept with him, even through the meeting that he had attended.

Think it’s time I got to know the new ship, he thought.

He walked down the promenade until he reached a data center that had consoles used for information retrieval. Falcar walked in and sat at an open station. He tapped at the console, and began to bring up info on the Icarus.

''Access Denied,'' voiced the computer.

Hmmm, ok let’s try something broader.

He began to access information on any Excelsior class.

''Access Denied,'' repeated the disembodied feminine voice.

Falcar sighed, and began to remember the Galaxy. He had had the same problem there, until he went to talk with the captain. Captain Flemings was a good captain. Although at first he had him only as an observer, Falcar soon gained the trust of the Galaxy’s crew and normal access to systems... until he even served as her chief flight control officer.

Guess I’ll have to talk with Captain Sterling as well, once I board the Icarus.

He then rose, left the data center and came back onto the promenade. He began walking, looking at all the different shops. He then came across the Starbase’s club and stopped. Inside he could see people dancing, talking, and laughing. There was also music playing, but it was muffled by the glass separating the club from the promenade. He walked up to the door, and entered.

The music became louder, and a few Starfleet officers and Federation citizens noticed him walk in. They began to stare at him, but he ignored them. He looked over the room and noticed the bar. He began walking towards the bar, and more and more people noticed him.

Suddenly, the music stopped and everyone in the club stared at Falcar.

He looked to his left for a split second, and then to the right.

Please, I’m not here for trouble, just ignore me.

He stepped up to the bar and sat down on a bar stool. The Bartender noticed him sit down and came up to him.

“What ah, can I get you.” Asked the Bartender.

“Romulan Ale,” said Falcar.

The Bartender looked at the crowd then back to Falcar.

“Sir, we don’t have that here. Romulan Ale is illegal in the Federation.”

Falcar gave a sigh.

“Andorian Ale, then.”

The Bartender nodded,

“Ah, coming up.”

The Barkeep turned and walked up to the back wall. He removed a blue bottle from the wall shelf, turned back around and placed the bottle on the counter. He then disappeared under the counter and came back up with a glass. He took the cap off of the bottle and poured the drink into the glass. The Bartender slid the glass to Falcar and took away the bottle to place it back on the shelf.

Falcar stared at the glass of Andorian Ale.

“Wait; leave the bottle” the Romulan said, his eyes never leaving the glass in his hand.

The Bartender turned to look at him for a moment and, wearily, placed the bottle back on the counter before the officer.

“Ah, Alright.”

Falcar continued to stare at the glass and, after a moment, the Bartender left the Romulan and walked to the far end of the bar. He motioned to the DJ to start the music back up.

“Ok everyone, nothing to see here,” he shouted.

The music started back up and most of the patrons returned to what they were doing before Falcar entered the bar. The Sub-Lieutenant reached for the glass, picked it up, and drank the ale in one gulp. He placed the now empty glass on the counter and refilled it with the bottle that was left on the bar. He began to stare at the glass again.

But he was not seeing it anymore; his eyes were far back into his memories: the memories of a young Falcar walking down the streets of Krocton on Romulus, with several files under his arm. He could see it as if it was happening right now...

Young Janus Falcar finally came to a café, where a man just finished up tending to some customers. He turned and addressed young Falcar.

“Janus, you are 8 years old, you should be playing with your friends, not schlepping for your uncle.”

“But I like helping uncle, Father. You know I want to be just like him.”

The man laughed.

“Ok, Janus. Just be home in time for dinner, or your mother will kill us both.”

He smiled.

“Ok, Father.”

Falcar turned and entered the office building across from the café. Inside was an older man. He smiled as young Falcar entered.

“Uncle, I brought you these files that you wanted.” Falcar said, smiling.

“Good work, my boy. I’m sure your father is proud of you. Just put them on my desk.”

Falcar walked up to his uncle’s desk and placed the files on top.

“What else should I do?”

“Nothing, I’m just finishing up here. So you can go home.”

“Ok, uncle, see you tomorrow.”

Falcar waved to his uncle just before he left the office. He then ran over to help his father with whatever he needed to do.

But, as he turned, he saw his uncle coming out of his office and locking the door. Afterwards he looked around to see if anyone would follow him and quickly walked down the road.

Falcar was curious at what his uncle was up to, as he was acting very unusual. He decided to follow his uncle to see where he was going.

At first it was like a game, hiding and following. But then he was lead into a cavern and soon his uncle was greeted by others. One of the unknown people spoke.

“Live long and prosper, Pardek.”

“Jolan true Spock, his uncle responded. ''How is the movement going?”

Just then, Falcar ran out from his hiding place and came up behind him.

“Uncle, what’s going on here?”

Pardek was stunned. Spock stepped forward and spoke once more.

“Pardek, is this your nephew you told me about?”

Pardek glances behind him, as Falcar was hiding behind him.

“Yes, this is Janus Falcar... who shouldn’t be here.”

He glared at the boy.

Falcar looked down ashamed.

“Sorry uncle, I just wanted to see what you were doing.”

Spock moved a little closer and then came down on one knee.

“He is a rather curious one.”

Pardek turned to Spock.

“Yes he is. He even wants to become a senator like me. He is a good kid.”

From that day on, Falcar had helped his uncle with more than just his senator duties; he helped with the Romulan Unification movement. There, he met many other Romulans and even Spock again.

Falcar would have many conversations with Spock, and he enjoyed each one. The two became very good friends during their time together. There were many more Romulans that Falcar became friends with, one being the movement,s leader himself, D’tan. D’tan wasn’t just a friend; Falcar considered him his best friend.

It was him that helped Falcar become a pilot.

However during those days, with his uncle, Spock, D’tan and the rest of the movement, it was all happy times. He knew his place in the galaxy.

Then, Commander Sela, she who would make herself Empress decades later, destroyed that dream. She... and his uncle.

Falcar took another drink of the Andorian ale.

After his uncle had betrayed the movement, he’d hated him for it throughout the rest of his shortened childhood.

He didn’t like war or violent things. When he had found the movement, he had discovered that he wanted to help bring peace. But his Uncle had destroyed that, or at least tried to. Thankfully the movement had survived the betrayal... and Falcar had stayed with them. After the betrayal, it had become harder and harder to stay hidden, as the Romulan government tried to crack down and stop the movement. But you may kill a man, you can never kill an idea.

Unification between Romulans and their distant Vulcan brothers would come.

When Janus reached sixteen, Spock and D’tan asked him to come and meet with them. They spoke of plans of returning Spock back to Vulcan, offering him a chance to accompany them on this grand journey. He was elated.

They boarded a Ferengi Cargo ship and the ship set a course for Federation space. They were on the cargo ship for merely two days when Falcar already began to get bored.

“Agh, so how long will this trip be.” Falcar asked finally.

D’Tan each time smiled.

“It will take four more days.”

Falcar sighed and his mind began to wonder,

“Wonder what it would be like to fly this thing.”

Spock turned his head.

“It is illogical to wonder about such things. Might I suggest you pay a visit to the bridge and see how it’s done, in person.”

Falcar smiled hugely. But then his face darkened.

“I doubt the Ferengi would let that happen.”

But the next day, D’tan entered Falcar's cabin, smiling.

“Falcar, I have a surprise for you.”

“What’s going on?”

D’tan waved his hand to the young man.

“Follow me and you’ll find out.”

The pair walked down the dimly lit corridor, and they entered the bridge of the cargo ship. To Falcar’s surprise, the crew was not Ferangi at all, but a mix of different races. They walked up to the front and D’tan’s arms went up to a man seating at the forward-most station.

“This is the pilot of this freighter. I told him that you were interested in flying, and he’d like to show you what he does.”

Janus had a chance to learn something exciting, or at the very least it would keep his mind busy during the trip. The remaining days of travel, he learned the controls and watched the pilot do his job, taking notes on what had to be done to steer a ship at warp. Once they arrived at Vulcan, he had understood much if not all of what it took to become a pilot.

Falcar, Spock, and D’tan, beamed down to Vulcan and as Spock went to report about his exploits during his time on Romulus, D’tan and Falcar took the opportunity to explore Vulcan, the place of origin of their people. They spent two days seeing the sites on Vulcan and met many Vulcans in the process. Then, they met up again with Spock, where he informed them that he’d be staying on Vulcan.

After saying their goodbyes, Falcar and D’tan beamed back onto the cargo ship and started their trip back to Romulus.

During the trip back, Falcar learned more about becoming a pilot, and even was given the chance to fly the cargo ship. And upon their return, Falcar had found his calling; to be a pilot.

But to do so, he had to enroll in the Military Academy.

Contrary to what he believed in, he would have to become a soldier if he hoped to become a starship pilot.

Falcar took another drink of Andorian Ale.

At the age of twenty-five, he’d been lucky. Although he should be a soldier, he wasn’t. From the start, he served as helm officer of a science ship because of his exceptional marks and managed to do so for his entire career. Then, after barely five years, an opportunity came, thanks to Spock, which allowed him to be where he was now: an exchange officer.

However, a part of him now wished he’d never taken this opportunity.

The Hobus supernova. The star that died killing his entire civilization.

He should have been on Romulus when it was destroyed. But no, he was on the Galaxy then. While he was safe and sound, he lost everything. His entire family, all his friends, gone... because of the supernova.

He was now alone, stuck in the Federation, homeless.

These days, Falcar had become rather erratic, drinking far more then usually, taking on dangerous simulations, and anything else that might destroy or kill him. He wasn’t suicidal, he still wanted to live; he just didn’t know what to live for.

He was certainly going through a real rough patch.

“Attention Sub-Lieutenant, the USS Icarus is now taking on crew.”

Falcar snapped out of his daydream. He looked over at the bottle, now empty, the last little bit of Andorian Ale in his glass. He picked it up and drank it, then placed the glass upside down. He motioned to the Bartender for him to come over.

“Yeah, what can I do for you?”

“I’d like a bottle of Andorian Ale, and a bottle of Aldebaran whiskey.”

The Bartender looked at the empty bottle on the counter before the Romulan.

“Hey man, I think I should cut you off.”

“I’m not going to drink it now. I’m leaving soon, they’ll be for later.”

The Bartender took a moment before finally shrugging.

“Ok, here.”

He turned and grabbed two bottles, one blue and another green. He turned back around and placed them on the bar counter.

“Just make sure you don’t drink all of this in one day.”

Falcar nodded and stood. His bags remained by his side, and he placed them on the counter. He proceeded to place the bottles into his bags and closed them tight. At this point, no one at the club could care less that a Romulan was there; he had become part of the setting.

With the bottles in the bags, Falcar then made his way out of the club. He walked for some time until he reached an airlock and through its porthole seeing the Excelsior class ship. In the window, he could also see his reflection, his hair, in them some small white/gray streaks.

Suppose I need to dye my hair again.

A few minutes later, he had reached the nearest airlock to the Icarus and was unceremoniously stopped by the security officer there, looking at him with eyes wide with surprise and hard with suspicion as he took in the Romulan features and the Romulan uniform.

Janus had expected the reaction; fact was, he had gone through it almost every day since his exile began. His current inebriating state did not help his already deep-rooted annoyance at it but he managed to sigh heavily and, wordlessly, offer his ID and orders to the burly, unfriendly guard.

"Alright, you check out." The security officer said after looking a long moment at the PADD. "You can go through; however, wait outside the ship's airlock."

"Fine." Falcar stood up straight, after leaning on the wall all the time it took for the unfriendly officer to verify the authenticity of his orders and identity. The Romulan was a definitely more than a little annoyed at this point.

Taking back his PADD with deliberate slowness, he walked through the airlock and then stopped inside the passage between the starbase itself and the ship.

If they really want me on this mission, then they shouldn't be putting me through this.

* * *

Last to do so, Pasqual took his assigned combadge and kept it in his hand, turning it between his fingers like a curious thing. He stepped back in a corner while he waited for all the others to exit the room, observing each one of them with a detached expression.

He did not say a word, which, to anyone knowing him, and they were only a few, none on this starbase, was a sure sign of the unease he felt.

The seriousness of the admiral had matched his secretiveness; a definite sign that this mission was expected to be much more than a simple diplomatic meeting. Of, course, not surprising when any dealing with the Rihansuu was concerned... but still...

The disapproval of the starbase commander was as plain to see. The man was more than just annoyed; he was genuinely pissed off. Was it because he knew too little or too much? That was difficult to say.

And now, there was his new crew...

The captain was obviously emotionally involved in many things already regarding this mission, even as it had been made obvious that he was no more in the know than Ray himself. This lack of self control was not a good sign in a starship commander; it had been already noted in a few of the younger high-ranking officers like the reknowned Benjamin Sisko of Deep Space 9 and even now was studied as one of the possible causes of the Dominion war having gone so badly... especially regarding the Romulan involvement in the second part of the conflict.

Pasqual understood the importance of the reason as to the sending of this captain with this ship at this meeting... but not the wisdom of it, at least as far as the captain was concerned.

Unless they expected Pasqual himself, as ship counselor, to be the balancing factor?

He almost laughed out loud at that thought.

Sure... like I am the one to calm things down...

The rest of the crew was the most mismatched group of officers he had ever seen or heard of yet, even taking in the legendary mixed Maquis-Starfleet crew of the famed USS Voyager: a culturally quaint novice first officer? An overzealous, all-work-no-fun security chief? An incurious Caitan science officer? An unconcerned, last-minute chief engineer? A chief medical officer more interested in the ship than the crew? And... a Romulan?

Not to mention ship counselor Raymond Quinn Pasqual himself; the most fast-promoted and most often demoted officer in the History of Starfleet... freshly out of the brig for solving a diplomatic impass with kicks in the lower back of Klingons...

And all of them under the command of a personally involved captain on a symbolic, refitted museum piece to tackle the most delicate situation since the Praxis catastrophe.

This is going to be so much fun...

''Ah, back so soon, Sir?''

He had quickly reached his destination; the brig of Starbase 39 he had just exited before the meeting with the Admiral and his new captain and crew. The officer that had escorted him was still there; and so was his superior officer Pasqual knew pretty well now; Security Chief Muller.

He quickly caught on the man's peculiar tone and replied in kind:

''Just here to get my things, if you don't mind, jailer. You may rent the accommodations now.''

''Certainly, Sir. It will be nice to see new faces from now on. Although with you, our best subscriber, now gone, this post will certainly get rather empty and boring.''

''Should suit you just fine then.''

Lieutenant Commander Pasqual and the security chief at the brig of Starbase 39 exchanged barbs with enough decorum to make it as light as it needed to be. After all, they had had quite a good run together since the Half-Orion had been discharged from his diplomatic duties a while back.

Grabbing his duffel bag with all the personal possessions he cared to bring with him on his next assignment, Ray ostentatiously saluted Klingon-style with a resounding ''Qapla!'' the brig chief, who snorted back at him in response and he went on his way, whistling.

He had gone by the promenade and ignored the crowded Neutral Zone establishment, even as the Ferengi owner glanced nervously at the counselor as he waved at him. The Ferengi brushed with his sleeve his immense brow in relief when he disappeared from view; he still didn't know what had been worse: losing all those wagers of complete meals and drinks to the man or dreading him ruining again his place with a bar fight against Nausicaans as he did on his first day on the starbase.

But Raymond Quinn Pasqual had had more than enough of Starbase 39.

And so, he did not waste any time going to the main transporter room, showing his identity and assignment orders and getting beamed up directly to the USS Icarus.

Once transported aboard, he went straight to his quarters on deck 3 to dump his things, then gave himself a personal tour of the ship.

As ship counselor, he did not have a department like all other bridge officers did; he was in fact part of both the command department and the medical department, being both in charge of the mental health and performance of the crew and the diplomatic mission profile of the ship, from first contact protocols to visiting dignitaries, from tactical assessment of an enemy's mindset to keeping the captain straight on course with Starfleet regs and orders.

Now that part was going to be a real challenge... and not because of the captain.

And so, once he had toured the physical environment they were going to live in, especially the recreational and social facilities on board but also with an eye to the workstations dispositions in relation to one another, Ray went to his office near sickbay and occupied the remaining hours before departure with studying in detail the entire crew's psychological profiles, starting with the commanding officer of course.

It didn't take him long to figure out that his instinctive evaluation about the command crew had been correct.

This is going to be a hell of a ride...

And that made him smile