SEASON 2: EPISODE 01

NO REST FOR THE WICKED: Prologue

  Captain’s log, Stardate 51480.8.  It has been six months since the Dominion War started and over eight months since I took command of the Swiftfire.  I regretfully report that I haven’t had a clean slate through that time.  I’ve lost crew, good officers, NCOs and enlisted beings have shed their blood on these decks and I am saddened by these losses.  I’m also filled with pride in their service and sacrifice for the Federation and we continue to fight on in their names.

  The Swiftfire in currently around six hours from Earth where we are headed for major repairs.  Our last engagement heavily damaged the ship, we lost a warp core, several weapons systems, damaged the main deflector, knocked out tractor beams…well you get the point.  It has taken us nearly two weeks to make the journey to the Sol system.  Not because we were particularly far away but the fact we were operation with only one warp core, we had to travel at reduced speeds for most of the journey.

  With that Starfleet Command is granting the crew leave for a period of three weeks.  This crew deserves the break.  They have fought well through some difficult times, though I doubt all the engineers will take it.  I suspect that Lieutenant Commander Celcho will want to personally oversee the installation of the new warp core; apparently we destroyed his favourite core in our battle with the Jem’Hadar super carrier.

  Once we dock I have some paper work and reports to complete and briefings to attend so that will take a few hours, but once that is done I’m looking forward to getting planetside.  I’ve missed the sun burnt country…it will be good to be in the fresh air under the warm sun again.

  Captain Jonathan Masters held up the small model and tilted it at various angles.

  “Not a bad job,” he muttered to himself.

  Masters had spent the last two weeks working on the model of the Excelsior class ship putting together the various parts, painting and adding decals to the surface.  He knew that the replicator could have fashioned him a complete and probably superior model in a second but there was something special about putting it together himself.  Part of it was it reminded him of his childhood.  He had put together dozens of models of airplanes and starships back then.  These models were often gifts from his father when he came home to visit him or for his birthday.  It was also due to the very personal relationship he had with his subject, the USS Swiftfire.

  His previous assignment held a special place in his heart even though he only spent three years serving on the vessel.  Its tragic loss was something that would probably always remain with him.  This was just a little way for him to honour that ship and those who were lost serving on her.

  While he had finished the model he still had no last problem, how to display it.  The Excelsior design was not designed to sit on a flat surface.  The obvious solution was some sort of stand.  That would be easy enough to replicate once he knew the dimensions he needed.  He walked over to the replicator.

  “Stand, measuring…” he gave the measurements and the material requirements and the replicator produced the stand.  He picked it up and looked at it, it was fairly simple flat based stand made out of transparent material.  It was fine but it just seemed to be missing something.  Masters stared at the stand for some time trying to think what he could add or remove from it.  Then it struck him and he placed the stand back in the replicator and ordered for it to be disassembled before inputting his new requirements.

  He picked up his new stand.  Now instead of the flat transparent base it was an opaque slanted desk, which the top was a perfect replication of the USS Swiftfire’s dedication plaque.  He ran his fingers over the raised lettering of the ship’s name and quote, ‘Once freedom lights its beacon in a man’s heart, the gods are powerless against him.’  It was larger then the original base but not the size of an actual ship’s dedication plaque.  It was the good way to honour the ship.

  He took it back to the coffee table in his room.  He cleared it off the mess of the building of the model and placed the stand in the centre of the table.  With a bit of effort he attached the model to the transparent neck that rose out of the centre of the base.  He slowly and carefully let go of the model, his fingers hovering millimetres from the ship as she waited to see if it would hold.  It did.

  He sat back and looked at the model.  A smile of satisfaction came to his face.  “Perfect.”

  He barely had time to admire his work when the internal communication system sounded.

  “Bridge to Captain Masters.”

  “Masters here,” he replied.

  “Sir, we are about to reach the Sol system.”

  A new sense of excitement filled Masters with that news.  Finally their overly long journey was about to come to an end.

  “Thank you.  I’ll be there promptly.  Masters out.”