Daughter of Frankenstein

[Jennifer Braggins]

==Two Weeks After Operation Ursa Major==
==Antares Shipyards, Bajor Sector==

Jenny rubbed her eyes and glared at the cold coffee mug on the desk as though it had betrayed her by not staying hot; the thermal mug had kept it at a drinkable temperature for hours, she knew that deep down, but it seemed as though she'd been working on her paperwork for hours. M'Rell, her Caitian Yeoman, had followed her from the Philadelphia to her new command and had been the one to deposit the fresh mug, but she'd long since retired for the night. Or was it morning? Jenny had turned off the chronometer built into her terminal, so she wasn't entirely sure any more. Raiju's soft snores from the basket next to her desk indicated that whatever time it was, it was either too late or too early.

I'm not sure what Command felt the more severe punishment would be; assigning me to convoy duty or the paperwork that comes with new construction.

Leaning back in her chair, Jenny looked out of the window where Workbees swarmed over the frame of the new Yeager as it neared completion. Jenny had been both bemused and infatuated with the ship when she had taken a Workbee on a tour of the construction slip herself; while the previous Yeager had been cobbled together out of available parts to guard Deep Space Nine from the Dominion, the current ship had followed the same design ethos deliberately. A Pathfinder-class primary hull and nacelles had been mated to a winged secondary hull in the same style as the old Yeager and Jenny had fallen in love almost instantly; it was a ship that Jenna Bartlett had suited her to a tee, defying convention with its very existence.

Except that defying convention often had its own issues; like fighting tooth and nail for the proper equipment, personnel, and getting the ship launched on time.

If we can get the glitch in the thruster control fixed, we can fix the rest after we leave. Assuming we get the people we need to fix it, of course...

With a groan, Jenny closed the terminal and rose from the desk. She figured she had enough time for a shower and a nap before her first meetings, where she would be interviewing potentials for her new senior staff. Once the interviews were over, there was a tour of the ship followed by a meeting with the designer and the shipyard engineer responsible for overseeing the construction; the meetings were almost as eternal as the paperwork, and Jenny once again cursed the recklessness that had cost her command of the Philadelphia.

Then again, she pondered as she moved from the office area into the bedroom, it wasn't every day you were handed a ship fresh from the shipyard. Even if it was punishment and another sign her career would likely progress no further, it was her chance to have a meaningful impact on a ship and its crew, and it was a unique enough design that wherever she went and whatever she and her crew accomplished, it would get noticed.

[Theresa Black]

It had been two weeks since the crew of the Philadelphia had returned in disgrace from their last assignment. The vessel smashed and under tow. Her commanding officer under house arrest, and the crew under investigation for possible dissent and mutiny?

Many of the crew were reassigned immediately on their landing on DS9. The senior staff in particular were ordered to remain where they were while the resultant inquiry took place.

Maz had honestly thought that was the end of her. To say that she was on borrowed time this last decade was putting it mildly. When she'd testified to her role in the events that had occurred. Her standing with Captain Braggins against Commander Jensen, and her later taking part in the theft of the Yeager. She'd deep down known the gig was up. When she, as a previously convicted murderer, was then asked to take a psychometric examination she could hardly refuse.

Then nothing for the last fortnight.

She'd been allowed to go about whatever business she wanted to both on the station and down on Bajor itself if she so chose to do so. Just so long as she didn't leave the system.

Waiting is hell...

Then this morning, when she woke up. The communications terminal was flashing a pending message. Orders had been issued.

She checked the senders address and ID to confirm it wasn't Papaver playing a joke, but it was official.

[To: Lieutenant Mazikeen T. Black

As of Stardate 2405.02. You are here by ordered and required to proceed to the Antares Shipyards, Bajoran Sector at your earliest convenience.

Once there you will report to your commanding officer for further orders.

LCdr David Badiel
Starfleet Personnel & Logistics Office
Sol Sector]

So she'd been reassigned. Not cached. Not this time at least.

After breakfast, she'd packed what she had, which wasn't much. The few belongings she did have were somewhere in the aether that was Starfleets routing service, that always seemed to deliver anything two months after you were reassigned elsewhere. And she couldn't find Papaver either to let her know she was being reassinged. So she left a message and headed for the docking ring for a ship she had been informed by station Ops was heading in the Antares' direction that morning on it's way out of the sector.

The trip took the good part of the day to reach the destination. Antares were the yards that had spawned ships like the Defiant, and Sabre classes. Good dependable workhorses. Being assigned here would probably mean she was now going to be shunting the ships from one site to another. A glorified haulage pilot.

And as they came into view, she looked out from the viewport at the massive articulation frame that held something akin to... Is that a Pathfinder mated to a Perry? WTH?

Someone from the bridge contacted her informing her that they had been given transport coordinates for her.

She looked at the Kludge hanging in the frame one last time as she headed to the transporter room and inwardly shuddered as she recalled the last set foot on something like it. Two weeks ago.

“Energise.” she said to the operator as the view changed to the interior of her next assignment...

[Peter Jensen]

Peter had quite honestly been surprised at the developments.
He'd been expected to be assigned to a garbage scow as revenge for Khumalo not being able to kick him out.

Guess that Nyberite appointment will have to wait, he thought to himself with a chuckle as his shuttle docked at the Antares shipyard and he prepared to disembark.
Yes, he could have used the transporter on the ship he'd arrived from Earth with. But sometimes he liked taking in the view of a trip. And this way he also had some time to think.

"Commander Peter Jensen.

You are requested and required to take up the position of First Officer of the USS Yeager NCC-60097, as of the following stardate.

Signed

Admiral Soandso", he read his orders again and put the padd back as he stood up to actually disembark. Once he had, he headed straight for the office. It was going to be a bit of an awkward reunion, to say the least.
He'd gone from being ready  to actually shoot Braggins if it came down to it, to trying to arrest her, to boarding a Cardassian controlled vessel on her orders - an action for which he was still proud, not least of his team - to saluting her as the cavalry had shown up to take them in because he'd thought this would be the last time he'd ever see her....to now coming back as her XO.

One wild ride indeed

There was the door. Peter stood outside the door to the office he'd been told to find Braggins in, and chimed the door.

It took a bit before he was allowed to enter, and there he saw her. A lot of emotions came back from the tense sequence of events they'd been through recently.

"So....this is slightly awkward" he said with what he meant to be a disarming smile, then sighed and showed her the PADD with his orders.

"As Captain, you can refuse these,", he pointed out with respect to the orders on the PADD, "and request a replacement XO if you should so desire. I would not take that personally. However, I do think we make a good command team... when we're open and upfront with eachother", he said, unable to resist one last barb vis a vis the incident where they'd wasted a collosal amount of time on what turned out to be a nothingburger because there were actual orders in place.

== Tag ==

[Jennifer Braggins]

A shower, power nap, and large breakfast had gone a long way to improving Jenny's mood and overall outlook on life. The video call to her husband and daughter, both still residing on Earth, had been bittersweet but had also served as a reminder of why she did the work she did, and why she refused to compromise on her morals in the name of Starfleet and the Federation; job security was one thing, but being able to look her daughter in the eye was far more important. Being able to discuss her day's itinerary and creatively manage some of the meetings with assistance from Jenna and M'Rell had been helpful for her sanity, but some of the names on the list weren't exactly inspiring the best of feelings; some of her new crew had been assigned to her direct from the Philadelphia to get them out of the way, and while there were candidates she'd requested personally, that didn't necessarily mean she was going to enjoy the meetings.

I guess I'm lucky they gave me a choice at all; tradition aside, they could have stuck to their guns and let me walk. That they didn't means they need me for something.

The door chimed and Jenny noticed Jenna and M'Rell give each other what Jenny had begun to refer to as "the glance", the one where something awkward had just happened or was about to happen, and they were debating whether to stick around to prevent further awkwardness, or get out of the way so that they couldn't be called as witnesses. A quick glance at the day's itinerary told Jenny exactly why; the person at the door was her new First Officer and the man who had, temporarily, been trying to hunt her down like a common criminal.

"I know that look; it's going to be fine. You're both welcome to stay, but I know you've also both got work to do."

The two women nodded and excused themselves out of the office's other door. When they were gone, Jenny took a moment to compose herself and ensure there were no plates or crumbs still littering her desk, set the viewport behind her to opaque for privacy, then commanded the door to open. Jensen stood, as always, erect and proper as he should be while addressing a senior officer, but there was no disguising the flash of emotions running behind his eyes. 

"So....this is slightly awkward. As Captain, you can refuse these and request a replacement XO if you should so desire. I would not take that personally. However, I do think we make a good command team... when we're open and upfront with each other."

Jenny resisted the urge to sigh, barely. While she didn't blame him for feeling the way he did about how their last outing had transpired, he hadn't trusted her judgement. He'd put words on a PADD before his moral obligation to his fellow officers, and he was still put out that Jenny's orders had been classified. The fact those orders hadn't come into play until after he'd mutinied against her and she'd stolen the Yeager likely wouldn't have made him any happier, which is why that fact had been conveniently left out of the official record. It was also the sole reason he was still in uniform.

"Refusing your assignment would defeat the object of bringing you out here in the first place. One of the perks of taking a ship from the Shipyards is that the Captain gets a little more leeway in picking their senior staff. You're right, we do work well together, but that wasn't the only reason I asked for you."

With a small sigh, Jenny leaned back in her chair and continued.

"The entire Philadelphia crew was painted with the same brush as a result of what happened, and some of us weren't on Command's Christmas List already. Those who joined me on the Yeager were going to be sent to Starbase Eighty until their commissions were up, and I wasn't going to allow that. You, on the other hand, were headed for permanent desk assignment somewhere in the ass-end of nowhere. We both know that no commander is going to want a mutineer -cleared of all charges or not- on their crew; this way you're at least getting a fair shot, even if all we get are the shit jobs."

Jenny leaned forward again, folding her arms on the desk.

"You're too good at your job to be left to rot in a cubicle somewhere, but you need to understand this; sometimes my job means I can't share everything with you. Sometimes doing the right thing will mean we have cross a line or go against what we have been taught as Starfleet Officers. I'm not asking for blind faith, but I need to know you're willing to trust me to make the moral choice even if the information you have says it's the wrong choice. So it's your choice; you can accept your orders, or I can have them rescinded and you can enjoy an exciting career as Quartermaster of some supply depot."

Jenny shrugged.

"This is probably going to be my last posting, the bureaucrats in San Francisco are going to make sure of that. I'm going to make the most of it, it's up to you whether you do the same."

[Arwen Qi]

Qi took the last transport out of Deep Space 9. He preferred to travel late at night, away from the crowds. During normal hours, the transports were routine. The conversations were a flavorless hum of bored dockworkers’ complaints. The people who traveled on the last transport of the night were fascinating, all riddles and rumors.

Qi didn’t have much in the way of luggage. He had a few clothes made from materials that couldn’t be replicated, some odd scientific equipment, and a bottle of Tenebran wine from his province on the Trill home world. The wine was extremely low quality, the kind that was only really enjoyed by students. Lumis had gifted it to him partly as a joke, and partly as a reminder of the many long nights that they’d spent imbibing the stuff.

He slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and pulled his jacket closed so that the collar of his uniform wouldn’t show. People tended to clam up when they saw it.

He was rewarded with a couple of stories to keep him entertained during the trip. The Andorian across from him was having an affair. She spent most of the trip assuring her paramour, a pale-faced Bajoran, that her three partners suspected nothing, and even if they did, they were all home on Starbase 1.

The Frerengi was pitching his new business venture to anybody who would listen. Apparently, a planet in the Gamma quadrant was rich in a type of algae that gave its spring water a mildly psychoactive quality. All perfectly legal and legitimate under Federation law, he asserted. Qi smirked as he discreetly reviewed the padd with his new assignment.

I never did find out exactly happened aboard the Philadelphia, he thought. Whatever it was, they kept most of the senior staff together. I’m sure lips will loosen eventually.

The transport jolted and began its slow approach toward the Antares Shipyards. Qi picked himself up and watched as his new ship, the USS Yeager steadily came into view. At first glance, the ship was odd looking, a mishmash of disparate parts and systems It seemed to Qi like a particularly Trill design. Of course, the Trill had millions of years to co-evolve alongside their symbionts, while this ship barely had its hull plating attached this morning.

Qi disembarked from the transport, still largely unnoticed by the other passengers. They were all wrapped up in their own stories. As for his own, Qi couldn’t wait to see what would happen next.

== Tag anyone who happens to be wandering the corridors on their way to the ship ==

[Theresa Black]

In the last few hours since her arrival at Antares, Black had been greeted by a Bolian yard worker who'd read her in on what he knew and showed her her new quarters aboard the Yeager so she could stow her bag at least. Since then, she'd been busy.

Unfortunately when she'd arrived, Captain Braggins was indisposed, so she'd done what any good tactical officer would do. She got coffee. Then she started work.

Propulsion and weapons were the mainstay of her world in the field. And this new ship was going to need a lot of TLC to get the systems from the two mated classes to talk to one another with minimal problems. After the first three hours, she concluded that the words 'Nadion Feedback Pulse Regulator Array' were going to haunt her dreams for the foreseeable future.

Deciding that more coffee was going to be the obvious solution without doubt, and maybe something to eat, she took a moment to step away from the Nadion Nightmare and almost collided with new batch of arrivals looking up in time to avoid bumping into an Andorian. One other person however, she did recognise.

“Commander Qi.” She said with a tired and slightly forced smile. “Have you been sent here to play too?”


== Tag ==

[Jennifer Braggins]

==Going to break this into a multi-timeline thread so we can all get engaged as soon as we can!==
==PO1 M'Rell, Yeoman==

M'Rell moved through the bustle of the Antares Yards' orbital complex, scowling to herself as she was nearly run down by at least three rather rotund businesspeople going about whatever business civilians had on a military installation. The PADD in her hand told her the location of the two officers she was due to meet, but getting there was proving to be a challenge for the petite Caitian. It was at times like this that she wished she'd been blessed with a foul mouth and bad attitude like that of the legendary Doctor T'Ana, but she'd instead been born a "people person" - able to get what she wanted through persuasion. 

On Cait I'd be able to use my claws, here I might 'hurt someone's feelings'.

Finally breaking through the crush of people, M'Rell allowed herself a moment to take a breather and check that her tail hadn't been stepped on. After smoothing out the tuft of darker fur at the end, she returned to her hunt until she saw the blonde Human and darkly handsome Trill she'd been sent to collect. Though she'd long grown out of feeling cowed by officers, Black's reputation went everywhere like her like a bad smell, and M'Rell remained more than a little uneasy at being in such close proximity to a woman who had killed a man in cold blood and gotten away with it.

"Excuse me, Commander Qi? Lieutenant Black? Captain Braggins would like to see you in her office, if you'd follow me?"

[Arwen Qi]

About half of the transport’s passengers disembarked into the shipyard’s corridors alongside Qi. The airlock door rolled closed behind them and the transport proceeded on to its next destination. Tired people stretched into the corridor, most of whom seemed to be in no particular hurry to find a destination. Qi started making his way toward the docking bay where he’d seen the Yeager when he nearly bumped into someone coming from the opposite direction.

“Commander Qi. Have you been sent here to play too?”

Qi recognized Black from her accent first. He returned her tired smile with a genuine grin of his own. He liked Black.

“Looks like it!” He said, adjusting his bag over his shoulder. “I’m guessing our new toy isn’t quite ready yet. Should we grab a coffee?”

Before the two could proceed toward the replimat, a Caitian broke through the crowd. Her purposeful walk, in contrast to the shambling crowd, caught Qi’s attention.

"Excuse me, Commander Qi? Lieutenant Black? Captain Braggins would like to see you in her office, if you'd follow me?”

Qi exchanged a glance with Black. One that said: Raincheck on that coffee, then?

“Lead the way,” Qi said, keeping his gaze low. He’d heard that excessive eye contact was considered rude in some Caitian cultures.

== Tag Black/M’Rell ==

[Theresa Black]

“Looks like it!” Replied Qi shifting the weight of his bag a little “I’m guessing our new toy isn’t quite ready yet.” Gesturing out of a nearby viewport. “Should we grab a coffee?”

“That was my original plan.” Replied Black just as a Caitian petty officer approached them both.

"Excuse me, Commander Qi? Lieutenant Black? Captain Braggins would like to see you in her office, if you'd follow me?"

Having seen the Caitian aboard the Philadelphia before. Maz knew this was the Captain's Yeoman, and despite her outwardly cute and fluffy appearance, the young woman was frankly as hard as nails.

Qi gave her a quick glance. No Coffee. She in turn looked briefly to the nearby arrivals lounge and its oh so tempting replicator before returning the same down cast look No Coffee.

“Lead the way,” Said Qi as the threesome headed to the Captain's office.

Black took one more glance at the replicators and raised her hand to try to stifle a yawn he felt coming. She didn't. “Oh, Pardon me!” She exclaimed trying to keep some decorum in front of a senior and junior officer.

== Tag ==

[Artemis d'Tor'an]

The last to arrive, Art was quick to put forward her excuse: “I had no idea where I was supposed to report, sorry!” In fact, she had no idea that they were even allowed on the shipyard in question, since their orders had been strict on them staying on Bajor or Deep Space Nine. There was a door to an office she had been told Braggins was in, and a few people she knew were milling around the station. Art was glad she hadn’t shown up in one of her brightly-colored lightweight dresses.

The orders received had been from an Admiral she had never heard of, for a ship she thought had been a mish-mash, and there had been no listing on who the Captain would be. At least I know who the other Department Heads are. She thought, smiling at faces she recognized. She wondered who was behind the door, if it was Captain Jen Braggins or someone new.

Then the door opened, which surprised Art a bit as she was actively “not pacing”, and she had to make a conscious effort to not walk into the person who was now walking out.

==Tags!==

[Peter Jensen]

Peter felt himself getting increasingly annoyed. Every time he tried to pay the Captain a compliment, he got spat in the face as if it had been an insult. He had been fairly relaxed and optimistic when he entered this room. Now, not so much. Though he wasn't stupid, and wasn't about to tell her where to shove her "charity" and how far into that place she was not to shove it.

"Look at the situation from my perspective for one moment, Captain", he said calmly, but there was a fierceness there.

"We'd just sent the shuttle into hostile territory. And then gotten orders to leave them there, to turn around. Every single person on that bridge - myself included - felt that those orders were equine excrement. But they were orders. 
Your close relationship with Capt. Crawford is well known. And by following these orders you'd be leaving one of your closest friends holding not just the baby, but the entire nursery. The "hospitality" of the Cardassian Union is infamous. What, pray tell, was the conclusion I was supposed to come to under those circumstances when you stood on that bridge and basically said "To hell with our orders"?", he asked, then paused for a moment, taking a deep breath and looking at her: 

"Had our positions been reversed....seemingly legitimate orders in one hand, and me having just sent one of my close personal friends into the lion's den because of the previous orders that had just been rescinded and me completely refusing your pleading for a private meeting on the matter while announcing my intention to disobey clear orders in the other...I ask you, Captain... What conclusion would you draw?" , he asked, leaving the question hanging in the room for a moment while he looked pointedly at her, before continuing:

"The conclusion I drew was that you were so angry - rightly I might add - that you'd lead the crew to its death or worse, and start an interstellar war to save your friend. I invite you to look me in the eyes and tell me that you would have thought anything else had our roles been reversed because I don't believe you would. This was not just a Picard'esque skirting the line of the Prime Directive, or even a Kirkian one. Both of which I would have gone along with because I do trust your judgement. But you are not a god. You are not infallible.  And you can't blame me for acting on the information I had. I can act on nothing else, especially when you don't give me anything else and refuse to tell me. Had you just told me in private that you had gotten secret orders and it wasn't just your own anger taking over, but that you couldn't elaborate, this entire unpleasantness could have been avoided", he said, pointing out once again what he had pointed out in the Ready Room.

This was a far cry from the Peter who had come aboard his first ship post-graduation as something of a yes-man who had been so afraid to stand up to superiors that he had made a mistake that had cost a crewman their life. He still thought of that incident from time to time. And he had come a long way since then and sworn never to repeat it. He had lost people again, of course, but never because he had been too afraid to stand up to a superior. That was a mistake he'd only made once. 
He finally sighed.

"I would be honored to serve as your XO again. As I said on the bridge of the Philadelphia when we were taken into house arrest, so to speak: It has been an honor to serve with you. And we make a good team. You are an exceptionally competent soldier, and an equally competent Captain. But I did what I had to do based on the information available to me, and I will make you a promise, a pledge, that any Captain should accept:
I will obey any legal order you give. I will offer my opinion, my advice, but when you make a call, I will carry out any legal order you give. I have no problem skirting the lines because I have also been out here long enough to know that those lines occasionally do get quite blurry. But there are lines I will not let you cross. And if I did, I would not be a good First Officer", he said, then looked at her:

"Or would you say that the First Officer and crew of the USS Pegasus were in error acting against then Captain Pressman and should have just trusted him?", he finished calmly but with a certain degree of steel in his eyes and voice as he pushed her words back in her face.

[Jennifer Braggins]

==DH Timeline (Qi, Black, D'Tor'an)==

Jenny had been finishing her report on the Yeager's progress when the door to her office opened and M'Rell walked in, leading three of her Department Heads. Two she knew; D'Tor'an and Black, but the third she had only head of by reputation; Arwen Qi, half-Trill scientist who had received his symbiont in emergency circumstances. His personnel jacket didn't say much about his career, but given his association with Adaran 225, that was hardly a surprise - Jenny doubted there was anyone with more redacted cells in their service record than the Hermat, and that was coming from someone whose own history was a complete fabrication.

In truth, Jenny hadn't expected D'Tor'an to attend, as she'd been due to arrive on a later transport, but that didn't really matter. She'd been declared persona-non-grata by Starfleet Command among with the rest of the senior staff, so it stood to reason that she would be assigned to the Yeager and want to get away from civilization as fast as she could.

Can't say I blame her. Mutinous or not, there aren't many others I'd trust with the safety of the ship.

"Welcome to the Antares Fleet Yards; some of you might have seen our new home on the way in. Unfortunately she's not finished so we'll be twiddling our thumbs here for a while. I'm told that despite the...irregularities regarding her construction, she's got state-of-the-art systems. Shame we're going to be stuck with second-line duties, but that goes part-and-parcel with being on Command's shit-list."

Leaning back in her chair, Jenny smiled warmly and turned her gaze intently upon Qi.

"Lieutenants Black and D'Tor'an I already know, but you're new to our merry bunch of renegades, Commander. Tell us about yourself."

[Jennifer Braggins]

==Jensen timeline==

Of course, Jensen was still on his high horse. Jenny supposed she shouldn't have been surprised; Jensen's morals made him who he was, a protector of the innocent and a valuable right-hand. Unfortunately it also made him rather inflexible when it came to certain circumstances, and it made Jenny truly wonder whether his moving to the Command Track had been the best thing she had done for his career - he could easily have thrived as a Security Instructor at Starfleet Academy or commanding a VIP protection detail somewhere; jobs that required his kind of black-and-white analysis of the universe.

The longer he's in that uniform, the more grey he's going to see, and he won't like it.

Jenny leaned back in her chair again and fished a cigarette from her pocket. Lighting it, she stared at the ceiling for a few moments before exhaling a cloud of smoke through her nostrils.

"The Federation is so afraid of 'starting a war' that it lets people walk all over it. In the twenty-two sixties it was the Klingons. The twenty-three sixties the Romulans and the Cardassians. They violate our space, and we send them packing with a stern finger-wag and a reminder not to do it again. How many people have died because Federation foreign policy is to be the galaxy's doormat? If you ask me, we were at war with Cardassia the moment they took the Callisto, a war we lost the moment the bigwigs decided the Callisto wasn't worth recovering after all."

Jenny rubbed her eyes, not from physical but emotional exhaustion and sighed. She closed them, still tilted up in her chair facing the ceiling, and let her shoulders slump into something relaxed. It was an easily-recognisable sign of someone who had seen too much, done too much, in far too short a space of time.

"I'm never going to order you to follow an illegal order, it was stupid of me to try the first time and I'm genuinely sorry I put that on you. I need you to understand something, though; you're still a Security Officer first and foremost. Your training tells you that the world exists in two shades: legal and illegal, black and white. I came into Tactical from Special Operations; everything was a shade of grey, legal and illegal weren't our concern. I see the universe a lot differently to you because of the things I have seen, and the things I have done. We can put on the fancy red uniforms and call each other 'Captain' and 'Commander' all day long, but deep down you're still a cop, and I'm still a soldier; we are going to disagree on a great many things because of that."

Opening her eyes again, Jenny sat straight upright.

"Starfleet has treated its people poorly over the last century or so, there are still Callisto survivors out there somewhere along with God-knows how many other crews Command gave up as 'lost'; that's why the people will always be my first priority. That's where my loyalty lies; not to the uniform, but to the people wearing the uniform. You're right, I'm not Kirk. Or Picard. Or Pike, Sisko, Janeway, Mariner, Boimler, any of the other legends we all read about. I am just a woman with a very strong idea of right and wrong, the moral courage to do something about it regardless of the risk, and the ability to pull it off."

Extinguishing the now-stubby cigarette in the ash-tray on her desk, Jenny gave her First Officer a wry smile. She genuinely hoped that Jensen would take what she was saying to heart, and not write if off as arrogance or self-importance. 

"Fortunately I don't think our next few assignments are going to need us to use those particular skills."

[Arwen Qi]

== DM Timeline ==

Qi recognized Captain Braggins. She had an impressive dart throw. He wished he would have talked to her when he’d seen her at Quarks, in a less formal setting. She welcomed himself and his two fellow department heads to the shipyard and gave a basic rundown of the Yeager and her mission. Qi’s eyebrows went up when she mentioned being on Command’s shit-list. Surely that part didn’t apply to him. He liked to imagine that scientists were immune from Starfleet politics, though he was wise enough not to vocalize the thought.

"Lieutenants Black and D'Tor'an I already know, but you're new to our merry bunch of renegades, Commander. Tell us about yourself,” The captain said, leaning back in her chair.

It had been a long time since Qi had interviewed for a job. He had to think carefully.

“Nice to meet you, Captain. This will be my second posting. Well, third if you count the Yoritomo, but I was only on board for a week before it blew up.”

Qi recoiled. Why did he mention that?

“I’m a linguist by training, with a particular focus on Romulan and Dominion languages. I’m also interested in computer systems and cryptography. Outside of work, I’ve recently taken up pottery.”

Qi looked around the room, hoping that somebody would save him from rambling.

== Tag Black/D’Tor’an/Braggins ==

[Theresa Black]

== DH Timeline ==

Listening as Qi gave the Captain a gist of his career, and hobbies. Maz couldn't help but smile, but tried her best not to, instead glancing aside toward d'Tor'an hoping she too had a similar look on her face.

The information about the Yorimoto did make her wonder though if wrecking or serving on a wrecked vessel was part of the selection process for ending up on this particular crew now days.

Noting that Qi had paused, and looked a little more nervous now stood in front of the Captain, who it suddenly occurred to Black wasn't dragging on her, almost becoming a trademark item, cigarette. She probably unwisely tried to make the poor guy relax a little by saying; “I need a new coffee mug. My old one got broken last mission. Are you accepting commissions?”

== Tag ==

[Jennifer Braggins]

Jenny didn't know a lot about Qi, but from what she saw so far, 'skittish' would be the word she would use to describe him. He seemed to ramble on in a way that would have made Reg Barclay proud, and yet immediately realise what he had done and have a sudden and adverse reaction to it. Whatever Adaran had been feeding her crews, it had obviously gone to the half-Trill's head. The way he looked around the room, almost pleading for someone to save him was a touch amusing, but Jenny failed to hide her amused snort when Black piped up with a request for a new coffee mug.

"Captain Adaran has always been tough on her crews, and her ships; that combined with the fact that the Yoritomo wasn't a spring chicken when she took command meant that it wasn't a shock when it went down in flames. Sad, yes; surprising, no. You can rest assured that we won't hold that against you; we might need you to make a small blood sacrifice to the gods of fate, but then what crew doesn't make those kinds of requests?"

The amused smirk on her face made it clear, Jenny hoped, that she was kidding. Though she was still very much the tired and jaded Officer that Black and D'Tor'an knew, this was no mask; she was genuinely pleased to meet her new Science Officer. Decent ones were becoming few and far between in Starfleet, with most of them either going on long-range missions or retiring into academia or the private sector at the first opportunity.

"It will be good to have a linguist aboard; there may be times when we need to avoid using the Universal Translator, and having a selection of voices to choose from will do a lot for our ability to communicate even in adverse conditions."

Wriggling back into her chair to make herself more comfortable, Jenny continued.

"As I said, the Yeager isn't finished yet so we can't go aboard until they put the finishing touches on her. I'd like to get all the Department Heads together for dinner tonight, say Nineteen-Thirty Hours, so we can introduce any new faces and go over what I expect our assignment will be. Are there any questions?"

[Peter Jensen]

Peter listened, his defences definitely still active, but he made an effort to actually listen to her. She did have a point, he knew that much, about the way he was thinking and how it was different from hers.
But she wasn't 100% correct either. While of course legality had been the issue he'd made the final decision over, it wasn't what was at the root of the decision. What had been at the root, was the consequences for the crew - and the Federation at large - of the proposed course of action.

"I hear you", he said, and it was clear that he had calmed down someone. "I also agree that we tend to think differently. And your point about our different backgrounds coloring that thinking does have merit. I will say, however, that I think you have misunderstood me, partly. The reason I opposed you to the point of doing what I did on that bridge was primarily because of concern for our crew, and secondly the Federation at large. If we hadn't had those orders that we did end up having, every single crewmember who followed those orders would have lost their carreers if they were lucky, their freedom if they weren't. And by taking the ship into Cardassian space and attack and board a Cardassian ship, we would have single-handedly launched an invasion and started a war that we had no business starting. It was never about reluctance to be in harm's way that drove me. It was my concern primarily for our own crew. Secondly for the crews of the rest of Starfleet"

His voice was calm and collected now, explaining his rationale to her, and then looked at her and smiled

"But yes...let's move on. I hear your point. I hope your hear mine too", he said calmly, then sighed "And yes. We're not likely to get the best assignments from here on out.", he shrugged. "But we're alive. And the hostages from the Callisto are alive...mostly.", he went on, and there was definitely some badly-concealed guilt - rational or not - in that word "mostly". He was still beating himself up over arriving too late to save all of the hostages.

"I'd call that a partial win, at least", he finished.

[T'Lari]

== Wymore Station, Office of Personnel, one week ago ==

T'Lari entered the office calmly. She'd spent two hours meditating, focusing herself and attempting to keep any emotions under control for what she knew was going to be a rough meeting. Today she'd find out her new assignment, and whether she had any sort of future in Starfleet.

The half-Vulcan half-Romulan Tactical officer already knew she'd avoided any kind of jail time or a dishonorable discharge for her assistance in the theft of the Yeager and the incident aboard the Philadelphia. Starfleet wasn't going to be discharging or jailing Captain Braggins, and T'Lari was a small fish, not even worth making an example of. The whole incident was causing a stir in the general Federation, and command had to deal with that. But her escape didn't exactly mean she would be assigned to the new Enterprise or the Artemis. It was likely her career was still just as stalled as it was before.

The door slid open. A brown-haired and stern middle-aged woman, Lt. Commander by rank, sat behind her rather plain oak desk. "Lieutenant T'Lari? Enter." she asked, pronouncing it 'lef-tenant.' She had the accent of upper-class British nobility despite such things not being significant on Earth anymore. "I am Lt. Commander Maxwell, office of Personnel." She did not offer the Vulcan a seat, so T'Lari stood.

"Your record is... colorful. To say the least." She made a motion of looking over a PADD that she'd obviously already read. "By all rights you should be out of the service. However, Starfleet disagrees, and given the personnel shortages we're facing due to recent events even a warm body like yourself may still be useful."

T'Lari felt a bit of cold anger. Pride was an emotion, but one even 'normal' Vulcans were not immune to. She wasn't egotistical, but she was aware that she was an extremely skilled Tactical officer.

"We do have a posting for you. Since you so ably... assisted Captain Braggins on her last mission it's been decided that you should remain under her command." The human put the PADD on the desk and slid it over to the Vulcan. "Understand, this is your last chance. As far as I'm concerned Braggins is an eyepatch and a bottle of rum away from being a pirate, but Starfleet has decided to retain her talents. She's welcome to you. It's either that or Starbase Eighty." The officer said it with the same tone that O'Brien had referred to 'Room 101' in Orwell's novel '1984.'

T'Lari felt like she should say something but remained quiet. She merely nodded. Let the human have her little outburst. It didn't matter. She picked up the PADD, which ordered her to report to the Antares Shipyards, Bajor Sector.

"Dismissed." The Tactical officer left, giving the Lt. Commander no further thought. A bit of happiness slipped through her control. Braggins had mentioned a new ship when they'd met on Deep Space Nine. Even if it turned out to be nothing more than a shakedown cruise it was still better than being sent back to the parts depot.

== Current timeline, several hours ago ==

What... is that?

The ship outside the starboard viewport of the shuttle was a definite surprise. No, surprise didn't even cover it.

Did they intentionally make a new Yeager?

Humans baffled T'Lari sometimes, and this decision had their fingerprints all over it. Only a species as crazy as humanity would look at the cobbled-together spaceframe of the old veteran Dominion War ship and think 'Let's do that again.' The original Yeager was a desperate attempt to weld together a functional starship to fight a war; it was pure luck that the ship had worked so well, and had even distinguished itself in that conflict. It had been a desperate time when the Federation was hauling every ship out of mothballs it could to throw at the Dominion. They'd been dusting off old Miranda-class vessels and drone-piloting them, arming Galaxy-class explorers with enough guns to melt a planet's surface, and even sending out old fighter wings to get blown up by the Dominion.

This? This wasn't an old ship. Serious thought had been put into this, and T'Lari couldn't understand it. Granted, Starfleet had suffered its share of recent losses... the Megasphere battle, the takeover of Starfleet's young officers by the Borg... things couldn't possibly be that bad. Could they? That was a Pathfinder frame, a new top of the line explorer based on the tried and true Intrepid class, mated to a... Perry?

The name and registry came into view. USS Yeager. NCC-60097.

I will never understand humans.

It didn't matter, ultimately. It was a new ship, not a mothballed relic slowly falling apart in a supply depot yard. She would deal with whatever problems arose. Perhaps her career wasn't over after all.

== Now ==

The turbolift door slid open and T'Lari entered the Bridge. From here there was no sign of the ship being a Frankenstein monster, as the humans put it. The bridge looked new. It smelled new. The controls, far from being the cobbled-together panels that were outdated even when the original Yeager was new, were sleek and advanced, with full holographics.

Crew were moving around, ignoring her while making final preparations for launch. She went over to the Tactical station.

I can work with this.

== Tags ==

[Jade West]

Graduation had come and gone, and it wasn’t long before Jade had received her first official assignment. That being said, she wasn’t entirely sure what to make of said orders as they currently stood. It did necessitate her travelling all the way to the Bajoran Sector, where she’d be reporting to the Antares Shipyard. From what the young woman had managed to gather, the ship she was to actually be assigned to, the Yeager, actually hadn’t been fully completed in regards to its construction.
 
Odds are it’s going to be keeping unauthorized individuals out of certain areas, at least until the ship is actually launched, I guess. Not much can go wrong security wise, unless someone seriously drops the ball. A little vacation before the fan gets hit, I shouldn’t complain too much.
 
Having only arrived on the Shipyard not long ago, Jade still had her duffel around her right shoulder. Honestly, she wasn’t sure if she be bunking somewhere on the Shipyard itself or whether she’d actually be allowed to settle into whatever joined room she’d be assigned on the Yeager. However, there was one bit of curiosity that Jade wished to fulfill first. While it would be rare that she’d ever need to see the outside of her future home, the brunette couldn’t help but wonder what the Yeager actually looked like. Reaching a viewing port, Jade had emotions she couldn’t really describe when she got her first look.
 
What in the actual hell is that? It’s like somebody decided to kitbash something, rather than building a proper design. It doesn’t say new ship, it screams lab experiment gone wrong. I…..
 
Jade hadn’t expected the most glamorous assignment straight out of the Academy, but she didn’t expect to be posted to a ship that look like, well that. A security officer by training, it wasn’t like she knew the slightest inkling of starship design, so for all she knew some poor engineer had poured their heart and soul into the design of this abomination. She could only imagine what Madison would’ve said if she were listening to her own inner monologue.
 
“You’re really going to let how the ship looks predetermine whether or not you think it’s good? It’s a new ship, and everything you do will etch into the history of said ship. Your mark. Can you ask for anything better?”
 
Jade couldn’t help but smile a little, and honestly wished Madison had managed to receive the same assignment, or vice versa. It was a tad bit selfish, but the two of them knew the odds of such an occurrence were infinitesimally small. All Jade had to do was to manage her best, just like she wanted to emulate from her estranged father. And maybe not go missing in the process.
 
== Hiya. ==

[Artemis d'Tor'an]

Walking into the office, albeit temporary, still felt a bit like walking into the Vice Principal’s office at school. This time, it was because she was an almost-muniteer-turned-rescuer, and because Captain Braggins had held back critical information on the mission as a whole, half the crew’s careers were in the shitter. She had a feeling she was either going to be stuck with Braggins as punishment, or shipped back to Earth with a black mark on her record.

Working private security won’t be too hard… She had thought with a sigh. In Art’s mind, it was only a matter of days until she got the boot, and so she had been surprised and intrigued when she had been called here instead.

Two other Department Heads joined her, Black, and someone wearing science colors that was quickly introduced as Arwen Qi. “Lieutenants Black and D'Tor'an I already know, but you're new to our merry bunch of renegades, Commander. Tell us about yourself.” And he was off running - or at least, his mouth was.

“Nice to meet you, Captain. This will be my second posting. Well, third if you count the Yoritomo, but I was only on board for a week before it blew up.”

Art bit the tip of her tongue to keep from snorting. She tried to keep a straight face, but to someone that knew her, it looked like she may have just held back a sneeze.

“I’m a linguist by training,” the Trill continued, “with a particular focus on Romulan and Dominion languages. I’m also interested in computer systems and cryptography. Outside of work, I’ve recently taken up pottery.”

Art took an extended blink. At the very least, she thought to herself, she was no longer nervous about why she was here. Qi might be feeling nervous, but at least he broke the tension. Black, who also apparently found Qi’s ramblings amusing, asked the man, “I need a new coffee mug. My old one got broken last mission. Are you accepting commissions?”

Now Art really had to make an effort to not burst out laughing. Still, she knew Black was… odd, at best, and didn’t know the woman well enough to discern between sarcasm and sincerity. The acting Chief of Security with the uncertain future decided it was best to stay stoic and silent. Braggins and the new guy talked, and she told all of them that there was to be a CO dinner that night at 7pm.

There were questions that Art had, but she wasn’t quite sure how to phrase them. She formed the words carefully in her mind, and tried to make them tonally sound not as confused as she felt. “When will we receive our official assignment orders from Starfleet Command?” This was Art’s way of asking if she was officially Chief of Security. Any other questions would be answered with official documents.



==This thread is starting to get messy. Just an observation. Will there be a separate thread for the Department Head dinner?==

[Kal-Geal Beinn]

==One week prior==

Beinn sat in his bunk on DS9, as his equipment had just gotten back to him from the Yeager he was assigned to. Said ship was scheduled to be salvaged, and he had a meeting with General B'Emir. Grudgingly, he dressed himself in his battle uniform, and loped out of the quarters. Within DS9, he headed for the meeting room. Once he was there, he found General B'Emir standing at a table, flanked by his officers. 

"Cadet Beinn. For desertion of your post, any other Klingon would be shot by his superior officer for such cowardice. However, as you are still a Cadet, and subject to Academy discretion, Command has decided that you will be discharged and returned to San-Tarah with the honors you have already acquired."

Kal-Geal attempted to get a reply in edgewise, but the General held up his hand, 

"I'm not interested in any excuses. You either went willingly with Captain Braggins, or you were taken against your will and did nothing to stop her."

Kal-Geal snarled back, 

"Sir...I did nothing of the sort. Captain Braggins was, and still is, my commanding officer. Thus, any order by her that is honorable, is by Klingon definition, worthy of following. Star Fleet would abandon its hostages to the mercy of their enemies. That, is not the Klingon way. It is the way of a coward, and Captain Braggins is not a coward."

The general glared at Kal-Geal and replied, 

"I told you I'm not interested in your excuses. As of right now, a ship is on its way to retrieve you. I suggest you pack for your home planet and say your farewells to any friends you might have made, Cadet." 

Then, a Klingon Diplomatic Corps adjunct entered the room, and wordlessly, handed a PADD to the general. B'Emir's face began to contort with anger, 

"How dare she! This is my officer who must be punished for desertion! No, I will not permit it."

The adjunct from the KDC replied, 

"The offer of a commission is valid, as she is still his commanding officer until he requests permission to leave her command. Forcing High Command's decision will look poorly at best, and at worst, seen as an act of aggression if he does not willingly turn it down."

B'Emir looked at Kal-Geal and said, 

"Captain Braggins, has seen fit to offer you a commission in the ranks of Star Fleet as her Chief Medical Officer. I disagree with her, but, as I am also your superior officer until you return home, I can still order you to not take her offer. So, I order you, Cadet Beinn, to refuse her offer and to return home." 

Kal-Geal's canine lips formed some kind of a toothy smile, 

"Then I challenge your decision, as a matter of my personal honor. Kahless would be honored by a race such as mine, for accepting the offer of allies for another chance at glorious battle among the stars. I challenge on the basis that you let your personal beliefs get in the way of your duty to accept the will of another officer's superior. An Admiral can order a midshipman in Star Fleet, to not accept a commission, but I learned that will get the Admiral shuffled away into obscurity."

The General glared at Kal-Geal and said, 

"Very well, Cadet. Then on the honor of the Klingon Defense Force, I receive your challenge, and it must be met. If you succeed, you are free of the Klingon Defense Force, as you will have struck a superior officer, and will be subject to harsh penalties on your return. Fail, and your life is mine, and you will remember that when you do fail."

B'Emir nodded to the guards, who pushed the table away. B'Emir took out their d'k tagh and added, 

"As you are but a Cadet, this does not met the usage of a bat'leth. That would assume you have honor, but in this case, you are but an unruly dog who must be put down."

Kal-Geal drew his own weapon, and replied, 

"I will not sully my own honor with a reply that fits you General. But I will win, for my ancestors will guide me to victory."

The general and Kal-Geal began to circle, their knives pointed at each other. B'Emir used a traditional combat style, as they swept in for a flanking slice and tried to get in under Kal-Geal's reach. However, what wasn't expected was for Kal-Geal to drop their weapon, and grab B'Emir by their weapon hand. A crunch heralded the breaking of B'Emir's hand in Beinn's grasp, as a balled fist came in and struck the general's chest, winding him. 

"I could have used my claws General, and torn off your head with ease. But I am not a savage from a Prime Directive violation planet. I am a warrior of the Klingon Empire, and I hold your life in my hands. But I give it to you General, so that you may fight more battles in the future."

The General, as a seasoned warrior, held onto their weapon, and replied, 

"You have honor, Kal-Geal Beinn. Naivety, but honor nonetheless. You will be unwelcome in the Klingon Empire should you return, but I will see that Command is made aware of your status in Star Fleet. Complaints will likely be lodged, but I consider this matter of honor satisfied."

Kal-Geal released the general's hand, and picked up his own weapon from the floor. Then, he looked at the KDC officer and said, 

"I accept the judgement of High Command, and Captain Braggins's commission as her Chief Medical Officer."

Beinn then put his Klingon insignia on the table, and left the room. Combat had given Kal-Geal an adrenaline rush, but he went back to his room and pulled out his PADD. On it, was his commission offer, which he accepted, and the room's replicator beeped, as a new uniform was made for Kal-Geal. So, he removed his battle uniform, and placed the teal uniform of a medical officer on himself, along with the pair of rank pips on his uniform collar. 

==Current Timeline==

As Kal-Geal rode the transport to the shipyard, he looked at the ship with awe, as he didn't have the cultured taste of Star Fleet's finest when looking at a new ship. For Beinn, all starships were to be marveled at, regardless of aesthetics, since what might look like an ugly hybrid to one race, might be a tasteful combination to another. And Kal-Geal, didn't have any preference, for the closest San-Tarah got to a starship before the arrival of the Klingon Empire, was a canoe and perhaps a trireme.

Once the transport docked however, Kal-Geal began to assist in the removal of medical supplies and transferring them with other crewmen, since that was what he had to do on the original Yeager he had been assigned to. He was used to assisting in the work, though he eventually got redirected to Captain Braggins's office, since he was the CMO. So Kal-Geal made his way up through the ship on foot, looking at all the new tech being installed, but also mapping the ship in the event their turbolifts failed and he had to find the quickest way up to the bridge, or wherever else he was needed.

==up to you Captain, what timeline you want Kal-Geal showing up at your office in==

[Arwen Qi]

Qi relaxed his shoulders. It was clear that Braggins wasn’t expecting him to be a perfectly buttoned-up Starfleet officer. Actually, she seemed to be having fun. Still, there was still a tension in the room that he couldn’t quite place. He’d felt it in Quark’s as well.

“I need a new coffee mug. My old one got broken last mission. Are you accepting commissions?” Black asked, throwing him a bit of a life raft.

“As soon as I make one that won’t leak hot raktajino into your lap, it’s yours,” Qi replied with a grin.

"It will be good to have a linguist aboard; there may be times when we need to avoid using the Universal Translator, and having a selection of voices to choose from will do a lot for our ability to communicate even in adverse conditions,” Braggins added.

Qi nodded. Language was much more than a medium for conveying information. Technology had allowed the galaxy’s many races to communicate, but it was a superficial understanding.

"As I said, the Yeager isn't finished yet so we can't go aboard until they put the finishing touches on her. I'd like to get all the Department Heads together for dinner tonight, say Nineteen-Thirty Hours, so we can introduce any new faces and go over what I expect our assignment will be. Are there any questions?”

“Sounds great. If we’re dismissed, I’ll unload my bag,” Qi said, shifting the heavy bag to his other shoulder. He was happy to get this formality out of the way and pick up the conversation in a more social setting.

== Next post in the dinner thread? ==