Captain Fabien Oteng, USS Amazon

Captain Oteng awoke with a start, looking at his darkened surroundings with bleary, sleep-worn eyes. He could not see much in the darkened cabin, so after getting his bearings for a moment, he called out “Computer, lights on, dim setting, about 45% of full.” There was a trilling of the computer, and slowly, the lights turned on. They weren’t too bright, but bright enough that he could see that he was still in the guest quarters of the USS Amazon, the runabout he had borrowed from Starbase Bravo. Before then, he had sought transport on the USS Brisbane from Starbase 1 to Starbase 23, then on the USS Uhura from Starbase 23 to Starbase Bravo.

His mind turned to the beginning of his deployment, after his 6 month leave of absence, when he reported to Starfleet Command’s Operation Division to find out what ship was to be his first command. There, he was met by Commodore Matthew Delaney, who informed Fabien that his first command would be a newly refitted USS Los Angeles (New Orleans class), a ship that was then, undergoing extensive renovations at Starbase 86. Commodore Delaney informed him that his ship was assigned to Task Force 86, Group 25 of Bravo Fleet; once he made it out to Starbase 86, he would be briefed further on his mission and what the fleet needed. Captain Oteng accepted the command, surprised that he was being sent to the frontier of Federation space.

Shaking the thoughts from his sleep-addled mind, Fabien got out of bed and headed to the washroom to freshen up and prepare for the day. The runabout that had been given to him at Starbase Bravo was a VIP transport, with two private modular quarters taking up the space of the modular mission pods; he was grateful for that small blessing, as he had used runabouts before, and the bunks (aside from being uncomfortable) had no privacy. Granted, on this trip, he wasn’t really sharing his runabout with anyone; he was informed upon the Uhura’s arrival to Starbase Bravo that the rest of his senior staff was en route to Starbase 86 through their different means; they would all receive guest quarters on the starbase for a few days before they transferred onto the Los Angeles. Fabien smiled as he looked in the mirror, excited internally at seeing the Los Angeles for the first time once he got there. Turning away from the washroom station, he grabbed his “seabag,” or Starfleet issue duffle bag and pulled out his uniform. He knew that he didn’t “need” to wear his uniform, but it felt weird to NOT wear it. After pressing it, he put it on, and after polishing his shoes (a habit he had carried with him since he was an Ensign), he headed out to the conference room in the aft section of the Amazon for breakfast.

Dr. Kadin Rehman, USS Hopkins

Dr. Rehman attended to his patients during his morning rounds onboard the Starfleet Hospital Ship USS Hopkins, though he was not assigned to the Hopkins permanently. About a week after he was relieved of duty on the Orville, he was summoned to the office of the director of Starfleet Medical. Worried that he was about to get his career handed to him, he had attended with a lot of trepidation. During the meeting, Dr. Rehman was told that he was being reassigned to the USS Los Angeles, currently undergoing a major refit at Starbase 86. The director informed Dr. Rehman that he could take 6 months leave to visit family on Earth, then he would have to report to the USS Hopkins, a hospital ship heading to Starbase 86, as a senior attending physician. Dr. Rehman accepted the assignment, and waltzed out the door, thrilled that he would be serving on a frigate as CMO.

Six months later, Kadin was on a shuttle from his family home in Dubai to Starbase 1, where the Hopkins was preparing to depart for Starbase 86, with the USS Omaha as its escort. He was given one of the larger wards within the Hopkins, excellent practice for running his own sickbay. Because the trip was routine, there wasn’t much to do for the medical staff, so his days were actually spent socializing and having fun with his colleagues. It had been a while since he had served onboard a hospital ship, and because Starfleet wasn’t transporting casualties, the patients he was in charge of were mostly civilians that sought Starfleet treatment due to the lack of treatment on their homeworlds. Even so, the ship was still under capacity, and so once his rounds were completed, he was free.

Surprisingly, the Olympic-class starship managed a relatively brief cruise time to Starbase 86, and soon, Dr. Rehman bid farewell to his colleagues onboard the Hopkins. When he reported to the personnel office onboard Starbase 86, he was pleasantly surprised to find out that he was one of the first (and only) Los Angeles crewmembers that had arrived. The Captain had sent his ETA earlier, and it would be a few days before he arrived by runabout, and most other members were still days out as well, as most were coming from the other side of the quadrant. Kadin was assigned guest quarters to await the arrival of the Captain and other officers.

Commander Brooke Abramov, Starbase 86

Brooke jogged along the habitat ring of the Aurora-class starbase, keeping up their exercise regimen that they had closely cultivated since the academy. Their long hair tied back in a ponytail, she slowed to a walk as they looked at their watch to see what their time was. ‘Damn, nearly beat my personal best for the 3 mile run’ Brooke thought as they stretched and approached the communal replicator, seeking a bottle of cold water. Standing in front of the replicator, they spoke their order: “Computer, one medium-sized hydration bottle filled with cold water.” The computer trilled and did its thing, and soon, a water bottle with the Starfleet logo was in the receptacle. Grabbing and drinking it, she set off toward her guest quarters at a slow walk, enjoying a part of the arboretum as she returned to her section of the habitat ring.

After hopping in the shower and changing into their uniform, Brooke sat down and looked out into space, seeing the constant ballet of ships and transports that went in and out of the station and they started to reminisce about the journey that had led them to await the arrival of Captain Oteng and the rest of the senior staff. While onboard the Midway, Brooke was summoned to Captain Liebenberg’s ready room for what Brooke thought would be a routine command meeting. Once there, however, Captain Liebenberg rather tearfully informed his first officer that they would be transferring to a new ship, one that was currently undergoing a refit at Starbase 86. The Midway, Brooke’s ship, would drop her off at Starbase 86 during a scheduled stop about three days from the day of the meeting, and Brooke would most likely have some time to themselves during the transition.

Captain Fabien Oteng, USS Amazon

Captain Oteng sat at the right seat of the Amazon, inputting commands into the interface, when the comms channel dinged; signaling that he was being hailed. Opening a channel, he heard the standard Starfleet greeting when approaching any Starfleet base.
”Unidentified vessel, you are approaching Starbase 86 controlled space, please identify and respond. Squawk 2277 on the transponder if unable to communicate.”
“Starbase 86 control, this is USS Amazon, Captain Fabien Oteng at the helm. Request permission to dock at Starbase 86.”
“Roger, Captain, transponder received and acknowledged. USS Amazon registry verified. Clear to approach, contact Starbase 86 docking control for further instructions. For the record sir, what is the purpose of your visit here at Starbase 86?”
“I’m here to take command of the USS Los Angeles, the New Orleans class starship that is undergoing a refit.”
“Copy that, sir. Congratulations on your command. Clear to proceed, sir.”
“Thank you…who am I speaking with?”
“This is Lieutenant Lucy Hutcheson, Starbase 86 perimeter control. Have a good day sir, and welcome to Starbase 86.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant Hutcheson. Have a good day.”
Captain Oteng closes the channel and gently rubs his eyes while taking a deep breath. It had been a long trip from Starbase Bravo, but he was anxiously looking forward to having his new command and meeting his staff. He was unaccustomed to having his staff arrive piecemeal, but the wide deployment of his new command staff necessitated certain…flexibilities.

Soon, Starbase 86 started coming into view, and he took a moment to admire the Aurora-class starbase before tapping more commands into the interface, opening a channel to approach control.
“Starbase 86 control, this is USS Amazon, on approach.”
“USS Amazon, Starbase 86 approach control, follow heading and prepare for Pad seven approach, confirm craft is Danube-class runabout.”
“Starbase 86 approach control, USS Amazon, I copy instructions; preparing for Pad seven approach.”
“Confirmed, Amazon, we have you on sensors. Free to proceed, Captain.”“Copy that, control. Good day.”

Onboard the station…

The senior staff officers of the Los Angeles all gathered around one of the conference rooms of the Starbase, with the window overlooking the main spacedock facility and above all, looking over the USS Los Angeles, which was still being worked on, even at this late hour. The Senior Staff had been very talkative, getting to know each other, though when the doors opened and Captain Oteng walked into the room, everyone fell silent and stood at attention. Years of Starfleet experience taught all the officers to give the proper respect to the commanding officer when he walked in.
“Keep your seats, everyone. Thank you for being here…” Fabien said as he walked toward the head of the table. Everyone else sat down right as he arrived at the head of the table and sat down himself. “My name is Captain Fabien Oteng” he began in his rich Rwandan accent. “I’m very happy to be here today. Starting from the right, please say your name and position. You may say your rank if you so desire.”
“Brooklyn Abramov, First Officer.”
“Leo Spencer, Tactical Officer and your Chief of Security.”
“Siobhan Pearse, your Chief of Operations.”
“Eloísa Aranda, Chief Engineer.”
“Dr. Kadin Rehman; though you may call me Dr. Rehman or Kadin…I’m the Chief Medical Officer.”
“Thank you everyone. Normally, introductions and staff meetings would be done onboard ship, but Starbase Ops has said that the Los Angeles will not be ready until later this evening. Commander Abramov, I would like to get underway tomorrow by 1000 hours, please ensure that we’re ready then.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Additionally, I would like to conduct the formal command possession ceremony tomorrow at 0800 on the bridge of the Los Angeles.”
“I’ll speak with Starbase Operations. We’ve spent quite a time here at Starbase 86, and we’re ready and raring to go.”
Murmurs of assent and agreement ripple out.
“Alright everyone. I’m pleased that we’re all here, and I’m excited to work with you. Commander, I’d like you to stay; I’d like to brief you on the mission. Everyone else, thank you for coming. Dismissed.”
The senior officers stood up and began filing out, though Brooke stayed seated, looking out toward the ships in spacedock.
“Well, Brooklyn, thank you for staying.” Fabien turned toward his First Officer, and smiled kindly. “Looks like we’re stuck with each other. I wanted to brief you about our mission this patrol.”
Brooke’s attention turned back to her commanding officer. “We have a mission this patrol?” Their expression commanded surprise, as they had understood that this first cruise was just a shakeout.
“Yes, I’m afraid we do. The situation in the Triangle is getting more untenable by the month, and Starfleet wants as many ships of the line to be on patrol.” He handed them a PADD, with the relevant intelligence reports. Then, he continued. “Granted, Starfleet is giving us discretion on how we proceed during this first mission. The Los Angeles is untested and her crew is realtively new; I don’t want to run the gauntlet if we don’t have to.”
Brooke nodded in agreement. “I agree sir. Caution is heavily warranted.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Well, Captain, I believe we should limit our patrol to the areas outside the Triangle. We can run interdiction and ensure that smugglers don’t bring in weapons and other contraband.”
“I agree wholeheartedly, Commander. Let’s meet on the bridge of the Los Angeles at 0730 hours tomorrow. That way we can get ready to get the blazes out of spacedock.”
“Aye sir. I’ll inform the crew.”
“Thank you Brooke.” He extended his hand to them. “It will be a pleasure to serve with you.”
They took his hand and shook it. “Aye sir, the pleasure is all mine.”
Brooke stood at attention and then left the room, leaving Captain Oteng to contemplate his new command through the window.

0800 Hours: Bridge, USS Los Angeles

Captain Oteng sat in the center chair, with Commander Abramov next to him to his right; both were facing the viewscreen. The other officers were at their posts, all of them engaged in preparing to have the ship depart spacedock. Captain Oteng then stood up, and sounded the boatswain whistle, signifying a shipwide announcement. Everyone on the bridge looked up from their posts and they saw that both Captain Oteng and Commander Abramov were in the center, with Lt. Commander Pearse and Lt. Muthoni sat in front, at Ops and Helm. These two officers stood up, and turned to face the two senior officers. Everyone stood at attention, and the Chief of Operations, Siobhan, walked up to Captain Oteng and started the command possession ceremony.
“Captain Oteng, what is your business on the USS Los Angeles?”
“On orders of Starfleet Command, I have arrived to take command of the USS Los Angeles, with orders signed by Admiral T’elani, Deputy Chief of Starfleet Operations.” He hands her the PADD, containing the official orders.
“Orders are legitimate and verified with Admiral’s verification code. Captain, place your hand on the biometric access panel.”
He does so, and the computer trills and beeps.
“Captain Oteng, you and your command have been verified. The USS Los Angeles is yours, sir, by order of Starfleet Command. on stardate 77602.0. It is so noted in the Ship’s log, sir.”
“Thank you Ms. Pearse. I wish to introduce my first officer as a command officer.”
“By all means, sir. Commander Abramov, if you would place your hand on the biometric panel?”
Brooke walks up to the panel and places her hand on it.
“Commander Brooklyn Abramov has been verified as the Los Angeles’ first officer on stardate 77602.0.”
“Thank you, Lt. Commander.” Brooke steps away from the panel.
“Ms. Pearse, I wish to introduce you as the Los Angeles’ second officer.”
“Aye sir.” She places her hand on the biometric panel.
“Lieutenant Commander Siobhan Pearse has been verified as the Los Angeles’ second officer on stardate 77602.0. Captain, all command officers of the Los Angeles have been registered and approved. Congratulations, sir.”
“Thank you, Ms. Pearse. All hands, please prepare for departure and resume stations. I would like to get out of here in a timely fashion.”
A chorus of “Aye, sir!” and “Yes, sir!” rings out. Fabien turns back to his center chair and begins customizing the layout of the consoles to fit his needs.

0955 Hours: Bridge, USS Los Angeles

The ship is abuzz with activity. The bridge is fully staffed, everyone on station, and the Captain and First Officer are at their places in the center. Fabien looks at Brooke, and with a nod, they indicate the ship is ready to leave spacedock for the first time.
“Brooklyn, it’s been a lovely morning. Are we ready to go?”
“Well Captain, our food stores and replicators are fully charged and ready, our supplies are all checked out, Eloísa reported to me that all systems are nominal and ready for departure. In short sir, we’re ship-shape and Bristol fashion.”
“Very good. Leo, contact Starbase departure, inform them that the USS Los Angeles is ready for departure. Eloísa, please do us the honors of turning on the ship.”
“Aye sir, initializing dilithium reaction into the warp core. Systems coming online…the Los Angeles is awake, sir!”
“Aye sir, contacting Starbase departure control.” He taps and speaks with control, while the other stations prepare for departure.
“Attention, bridge officers! Sound off, go/no-go for departure. Starting with ops.”
“Ops is go, sir.”
“Helms is go, sir.”
“Tactical and security is go, sir.”
“Engineering is go.”
“All departments report go, we are good to go.”
“Thank you Brooklyn. Leo, what’s the word from control?”
“Sir, they’re reporting that there’s a small fleet coming back from the triangle. There may be delays in departing spacedock.”
“Just make sure you keep me in the loop. Hopefully, delay is not too significant. In the meantime, let’s prepare to get underway. Brooke?”
“I agree.” She presses a few buttons on her armchair, sounding the boatswain’s whistle that usually preceded a ship-wide announcement.
“Attention all hands. This is Captain Fabien Oteng. Prepare for spacedock departure.”
“Channel closed, sir.”
“Thank you. Go to blue alert, secure all airlocks, and cast off mooring beams.”
The bridge lights are dimmed and everyone is bathed in the blue glow of the alert.
“Captain, airlocks read sealed and mooring beams are secured. We’re ready for departure, soon as we’re given clearance.”
“Great, thank you.”
“Captain, we have clearance from departure control.”
“Great! Miss Muthoni, please take us out, maneuvering thrusters only. Slow and steady, Lieutenant.”
“Aye sir, pulling ahead, thrusters only.”
The ship slowly began moving out of its docking bay under its own power for the first time in years. She looked brand new, inside and out, and more than a few people in the Starbase turned to look at the Los Angeles depart. She looked graceful, fully illuminated, with her nacelles all lit up in preparation for her first warp test.

Soon after the Los Angeles cleared the doors, she turned slightly, toward the area known as the triangle. She hadn’t left the area completely yet, but she was in space, and her systems were all operational. Finally, the news Fabien had been waiting for arrived.
“Captain, we’re clear of the Starbase area; we are clear to go to warp at your command.”
“Very good, Lieutenant. Set course for the Triangle, warp 4.”
“Warp 4, aye sir.

The Los Angeles turned, then glowed, and jumped to warp, disappearing into the stars on her first mission for Starfleet.

The Los Angeles hummed gently as she moved through the system at sub-light speeds. On the bridge, Commander Abramov is sitting at the captain’s chair, looking at the PAAD they are working on for the new duty roster. They occasionally tap on the PAAD, making adequate changes. For a moment, though, Brooke looks up from her PAAD and scans the bridge. Every officer assigned to the bridge on Charlie Shift is focused on their work, carrying forward a straightforward patrol of the area. Starfleet Command orders were that the Los Angeles carry forward an interdiction patrol, stopping and searching vessels in the area to ensure that Federation law was upheld. Though the ship had stopped a few ships, there was nothing to report and the stops were more than routine. That pattern, however, was about to end; the Los Angeles was about to step into something that would eventually untangle a twisted web of criminal activity and illegality.

A small alert began to blip on the OPS console. The Ensign in charge of the OPS chair began to tap away, presumably seeking additional information before moving on. The proximity alert had gone off, but the ship classification and registry were not available. This usually indicated a problem with the sensors and computer tie-ins, but sometimes, it was because the ship transponder was switched off. Ensign Thorne sent a message to Engineering, requesting a check on the Los Angeles’ sensors and computer tie-ons. After a few minutes, the message came back: We tried looking, but everything checks out. Maybe their transponder is off-line? The message confirmed his suspicions – it was a suspicious ship, possibly running something they weren’t supposed to, in an area that Starfleet already had many issues in. One of the duties of the Los Angeles was enforcement interdiction, and it was time to alert his superior officer. The Ensign spoke up.
“Commander, we have an unidentified vessel, moving on a parallel course to us. Its transponder appears to be off.”
“Show me Ensign” Brooke says as they stand up to see the console for themselves.
“See here, Commander? This ship outline here, isn’t giving us the normal returns that it does.”
“Yes, I can see that, Ensign.” Brooke turned back toward the rest of the bridge officers on watch.“Lieutenant, summon the senior officers and the Captain to the bridge. We may have to conduct a stop.”
“Aye, Commander.” The Lt. taps a few buttons on her console. “Senior Bridge Staff to the Bridge. All Senior Bridge Staff to the Bridge.” She takes a breath. “Commander, ship-wide announcement made.”

Brooke took a breath before they responded. They just looked around the bridge and sighed, then looked out at the view screen. In that moment, the sliding doors opened, and the entire Command staff (save for the Chief Medical Officer and Chief Engineer) walked onto the bridge. The relief crew stood up and started to make for the turbolifts to head down to the other decks.
“Commander, what’s going on?” Captain Oteng asks as he makes for his chair, tea cup in hand.
“Well, Captain, we have a ship that’s running dark on a direct intercept course, no information to be had about this ship.”
“That is interesting, indeed. Miss Pearse, do we have sufficient cause to stop the vessel?”
“Well, Captain, it depends. So far, we haven’t tried to communicate with it, or make our presence well known. The vessel could have a malfunction; so I recommend that we try communicating to it, and seeing if they respond.”
“I concur, Miss Pearse. I think we should send a hail, then use the second best communication method…a torpedo to signal our intent.”
“Aye sir, hailing now.” Lt. Spencer verbally acknowledges without being given an order by the Captain, indicative of his proactive methods that endeared him to most of the senior officers he had been under.
“No response sir. On any standard Federation frequency. Let me try a few others.”
He taps the console, and shakes his head. “Captain, they have not responded. Also, Asi, you noticing this? They’re changing course.”
“Way ahead of you Leo; changing course to intercept.”
“Captain, I would go ahead and fire. It’s time.”
“Right you are, Miss Pearse. Mr. Spencer, would you do us the honors?”
“Aye sir. Firing now.”
The torpedo leaves the pod and streaks toward the fleeing ship, exploding in a brilliant flash of light in front of the vessel.
“Attention unidentified vessel. This is the Federation Starship Los Angeles. Heave to, and prepare to be boarded. Signal compliance by slowing to one-third impulse or respond to our hail.”
Captain Oteng looks around the bridge as the crew continues tapping on consoles.
“Sir, we’re getting a response on our hail.”
“Excellent. On screen, please.”

The viewscreen changes from an exterior shot of the vessel to the interior, what presumably was the bridge. Visible was what Captain Oteng thought was a Vulcan male, about 45 years old in human terms, wearing a blue jumpsuit with what presumably was his name written in faded white letter script.
“Starfleet vessel, I’m T’Jonn, master of this craft. We were conducting repairs and so we missed your communiques. My apologies.”“Captain T’Jonn, thank you for your response. I’m Captain Fabien Oteng, of the USS Los Angeles. We noticed your vessel running in blackout conditions…and I, for one, would love to know why.”
“Well, Captain, my transponder has not really been functional as of late. Seeing as we’re a civilian vessel, it shouldn’t matter.”
“Well…T’Jonn; it very much does matter. This corridor is known for smuggling and contraband trade. Starfleet has spent the last few years cracking down on the illicit trade in this area. Do you have your manifest declaration, by chance?”
Captain Oteng stands up and heads to the tactical station. “If you do have it, please transmit now.”
T’Jonn looks around, presumably at the other crew members before responding.
“Ummm…well, yes, we do have it…Uhhh…I’ll have my first officer send it to you, when we find it.”
“Captain, do you have the manifest?”
“Yeah, of course we do.”
“Then please send it over now.”
“We would like to cooperate, it’s just that our manifest is on a PAAD and we need to find it.”
“Your manifest is on a PAAD…” Captain Oteng repeats it incredulously. “Captain, I’m not sure whether your ship is disorganized or whether you’re trying to mislead me, but either way, I do not like what is happening. I’m sending over a few of my officers for an inspection.”
“Captain Oteng…Oteng, right? Captain, that’s not necessary. We just need a little more time!” The panic in his voice was starting to bleed through, and at that point, there was an exchange of looks amongst the bridge crew. Something was amiss.
“No, Captain T’Jonn. We’re conducting an official inspection of your vessel. There are too many unknowns here. Prepare for our arrival. Los Angeles out.” The Captain then turns to his first officer.
“Commander, why don’t you take Miss Pearse, Mr. Spencer, and a contingent of security officers…use the Catalina (Type-11 Shuttle) and go see what the hell is going on.”
“Aye sir.” They stand up and and begin walking towards the turbolift. “Siobhan, Thomas, with me.” The selected officers then get into the turbolift, and are awfully silent as the turbolift descends to the appropriate deck. No one relishes this kind of boarding action, but sometimes it has to be done. Finally, after what seems an eternity, Brooke pipes up.
“We’re going to get our equipment then we’re going to the shuttle.”
“What equipment are we getting? An interrogator kit?” Tom asks dryly as the turbolift slows.
Brooke laughs. “Cute, Lieutenant. Very funny. No, we’re getting our phasers. And maybe tricorders.”
“Awww, no fun.”
Brooke rolls her eyes as she leads the three bridge officers down the corridor to the weapons locker. After grabbing the kit that they need, the three officers chat as they walk, the tension having been broken.

The three security officers are milling about by the shuttle, their phaser rifles on their shoulder. As soon as they see the three officers, they stand at attention.
“At ease. Have you all been briefed on the mission?”
“Yes, Commander. It’s a standard inspection and search.”
“That’s right. We’re going to be inspecting the vessel. So make sure the crew is gathered in one central location, and wait for instructions.”
“Aye, ma’am.”
“Alright. Let’s mount up.”
Everyone piles into the shuttle and it smoothly departs the shuttlebay, looping around the the Los Angeles before the target ship came into view. As the shuttle prepares to dock, everyone checks their weapons. They don’t know what they’re stepping in to, but everyone knows that these types of boardings are unpredictable.