En route to Starbase Bravo…

The cruise back to Starbase Bravo had been a routine affair. They’d said their goodbyes to Alpha, who’d taken off deeper into the nursery to discover itself. The Rubidoux meanwhile had ventured out. It was time to come back and part ways. Once Tib had been cleared of any potential contagion and given the okay to return to duty, he let everyone know of his decision to turn in command of the ship over to Commander Kael, and take a new posting. The command staff were gathered in the small observation room of the ship to congratulate the commander and thank the captain for his time with the ship.

“That’s when I knew, I think. You guys have learned everything from me you can learn. You’ve all heard my Tib’s laws. Hopefully, some of you have taken notes even.”

“They’re more like rules than laws.” Lt. Vossk said.

Tib chuckled. He figured if anyone would quibble with his choice of words, it would be the data driven Vossk. The reptilian’s eyes blinked, unsure why Tib was amused.

“Have I offended you, Captain?”

“Not at all Lieutenant. Enough about me, though, Commander Kael?”

Tiberius gestured to her. Even in the crowded conference room, there was enough space to take the floor.

“Your first comm-”

He was interrupted by the ship rocking violently. The Warp field destabilized, and the ship fell back into normal space time. Everyone glanced back and forth from Kael to himself. Sensing the confusion of a split command, Kael pointed to Tiberius.

“He’s the captain still.” All heads then swiveled to him.

“The bridge.” Tiberius ordered, and everyone filed out as one. Settling into their seats and logging into consoles.

“Status report!” Tiberius ordered.

“We’ve lost warp field stability and we’re currently back in normal space. Our position is roughly a quarter of the way into the trip back. We cleared the nursery but hit something kind of anomaly that’s thrown us out of warp transit.”

“An interstellar speed bump?” Tiberius mused aloud.

The ship rocked again, and several surge breakers burst as power back fed from violent explosions and collapses in the power grid.

“Sir, that was weapons fire!” Thorne shouted at the helm.

“Red Alert, Evasive maneuvers. Who’s attacking us?”

The wounded Rubidoux was once again on its own, and this time with no support. The port nacelle was venting plasma and several of the warp coils were fused from weapons fire. As the damage reports spooled in, Tiberius got the sinking impression this was a premeditated interdiction. When his science officer reported the attack signature matched many of the vessels they had tracked in the Nursery running black market weapons, everything checked out.

“Looks like we’ve pissed off the hornet’s nest. Return fire. Send a distress call to Command. Let them know what’s happening.”

“Beacon deployed.” Vossk said, deploying the emergency beacon while Lt. Jel’kan took to defending the ship. The ship rocked again from another pass of the raiding Klingon vessel, eliciting a flurry of micro explosions that rippled out throughout the Cali. For as good as the ship took a beating, though, she was sorely under-gunned. Able to land a few return hits with her own weapons, the raider clearly had the advantage.

The debris wake that trailed the Rubi was so thick, though, that her helmsman began using it to create an orbital barrier, forcing a standoff with it. Jel’kan continued to press the attack, doing his best to convince the raiders to drop the attack. Unfortunately, the Rubidoux was just too outgunned, and every trick the crew tried to fend off the attack proved partially successful. It only proved to prolong the engagement.

“Hit that ship with everything we’ve got. Jel’kan, don’t spare the torpedos. We’re not worried about pinching resources.”

Jel’kan grinned. “Yes, sir.”

The aft tube hurled a full volley of crimson stars that crashed into the raiding vessel. The resultant explosion crippled the enemy ship’s engines, leaving the two wounded ships traversing in gentle glides away from each other. Drifting away at an angle, the badly damaged Rubidoux left a debris trail of glittering metal and vented gasses.

Inside the ship, the situation wasn’t any better. Life support and power were failing.

“Get to the escape pods and shuttles! Go!” Tiberius ordered.

Commander Kael organized the chaos into something more manageable. Getting the lower ranked officers and enlisted clear and below decks, navigating the maze of still usable corridors and access ladders. Tiberius stood, leaning over the now vacant helm console. He was watching the warp core readouts. Controls were failing, and the ship was going to go critical, eventually. He glared at the console, willing the core to stabilize, but it was beyond reigning back into control at this point. A hand on his shoulder gently pried him free.

“Sir. We have to go. There isn’t much time left before the ship loses anti-matter containment,” his XO said. She made her way to the bridge access ladder and waited at the top. The lift was dead now.

Tiberius lingered. This wasn’t exactly how he wanted to end his last mission on the ship. But then, no one ever got things the way they wanted. He paused at the command chair, touching the headrest with a long expression. The ship deserved a better end than this. He glanced up at the cracked main screen. Much of it just static and snow.

In the center of a spiderweb of broken shards of screen, the Klingon raider drifted away. He was going to find out who these weapons dealers were. Eventually. Crew first, though. Always crew first.

Shimmying down the ladder, Lorena broke into a slow run as they darted through the now empty ship, checking rooms and passageways to make sure there were no stragglers or anyone left behind. They got all clear reports from the rest of the ship as the remaining senior staff piled into the last of the escape pods. In the hangar bay, a shuttle had been kept behind, waiting for him. He tasted bile at the sight, but bit back his distaste and climbed in.

Organizing the escape pods and other shuttles would be easier if he were in the shuttle rather than an escape pod. Tib sighed, unable to counter the fact and strapped in as the shuttle lifted off the deck, not wasting a moment. It cleared the wounded ship and wove through the debris field left in the ship’s wake before falling in with the shuttles and pods.

“The Hopkins reports its on its way back. Anticipated ETA is roughly 15 mikes.” Lorena said, working the console.

Tiberius nodded, wiping sweat and grim from his brow. “Casualties?”

Lorena shook her head. “No confirmed reports yet, but we’re still in the thick of it.”

“Get head counts as soon as you can. Have everyone formed up and proceed clear immediately.”

“Order’s acknowledged.” Lorena said. After a pause, she glanced at him. “Sir… what are we going to do?”

“About what Commander?”

She gestured to the wounded Rubidoux, which was pulling further and further away.

“There’s nothing more we can do. Now we wait for rescue.”

Frustration welled up within him. He should have expected something like this. A reprisal attack or something. Anything. Instead, he just bumbled right into it like a clown. He smashed his fist down into the console several times before Lorena put another calming hand on his arm.

“It’s okay, sir.”

“I know.” Tib said after a long breath to regain his composure. “This is just wasn’t how I wanted to hand the ship off to you.”

She shrugged. “It’s fine. Excited as I am for my own command, I don’t quite think I’ve learned everything I can from you. Besides, we’ve gotta make this right now.”

“We?”

She nodded. “I don’t see you letting this go easily. If you’re going to go after them? I want in. The whole crew does.”

Tib nodded. “Somehow I have a feeling command won’t be inclined to allow many transfers out.”

The assemblage of escape pods and shuttles continued along until the USS Hopkins arrived to pick them up. It took several hours to get the crew checked through sickbay for injuries. Tiberius couldn’t be more proud. Fatalities had been kept to a minimum, with only a handful dead, most from unavoidable fates like a detonating plasma coupling, or blown relay.

The ride back to Starbase Bravo was more solemn for both the crew of the Hopkins and the Rubi’s crew. Arrival back saw the command staff inundated by debriefings and reports. Eventually, once they were all okayed for a return to duty, the decision was made to reassign a New Orleans class that had just finished its 10 year refit cycle. From Starbase Bravo’s Conference room B, the command staff watched the powered down ship being towed out of dock.

The mood in the room was optimistic. In Tib’s case, he was eager. He’d spent so long in the California class that a change of scenery was novel. He wasn’t sure but he was positive his old man had spent time serving on a New Orleans class.

“It’s a kind of irony that the Rubidoux would transition to a New Orleans class.” Tiberius said during a lull in conversations.

“Oh?” Commander Venrith said, striding over to listen.

“Louis Rubidoux was from St. Louis, which was part of the original territory the French claimed that made La Louisiane. Eventually, there were wars and territorial handovers that separated St. Louis from the rest of the French territory of Louisiana, but you could argue that Louis Rubidoux has come home to his roots.”

“To home.” Commander Kael said, toasting him. The others chimed in and held their glasses up.

“As fine a statement to toast as any.”

“Captain Rain?” his combadge chirped. Tapping it, he addressed the page. “Rain here, go ahead.”

“Sir, the Rubidoux is ready for you. Shall I beam you aboard?”

Tiberius glanced across the faces of his command staff. What had started as a transient training wheels crew had grown into something of a mainstay crew. No more venturing off to real postings. This was it now. A genuine sense of change had settled over them, and everyone nodded affirmatively. They were ready.

“Bring us home, chief.”

Tib and Lorena strode shoulder to shoulder through the corridors of the ship, taking in their new posting. Tib was unable to mask his excitement any longer, beaming eagerly as they strode. He caught Lorena giving him an amused look. He sighed, biting back a smile.

“Go on. Say it.”

“Nothing, you just looked like you were uncharacteristically eager.”

“Hey, I can be very eager when the mood strikes.”

“I’m sure.”

“Favorite thing about the ship so far. Go.”

Lorena looked around uncertainly. “I’m not sure I could say? I’ve only seen the transporter room and some of the corridors?”

“Come on. Pick something. Anything.”

She sighed and glanced around, looking for the anything. “The flooring.” She said.

Tib’s brow arched curiously. “I give you a wide open question like that, and you come back with, the flooring?”

“What?! Its nice and soft. The California was a little harder on the feet. By the end of the day my ankles were sore. This floor feels nice and soft. And I’ll bet the deck plating on Deck 2 doesn’t give that weird near earth g feel when your walking on it. I can’t tell you how many times I almost tripped on that deck.”

Tib laughed. “Okay. Fair points all around. Deck 2 took some adjusting your gait to. I’ll miss that. Poor Dex never got to look into that before the ship was destroyed.”

“From what I understand, he probably would have just saluted the explosion if he could have. He enjoyed fixing things, but he hated what he liked to refer to as gremlins.”

They entered a turbo lift and rode for a short period. When the doors whisked open they found themselves on a small bridge modeled in the same design style as that of the Galaxy class. Lorena gestured for him to go first.

“Go on. It’s still your command, after all.”

Tib nodded, striding onto the bridge for the first time and inhaling deeply. He could smell the carpet cleaning solution. The polish on the furniture and paneling. The cleaning agents on the console surfaces. It had that new bridge smell. Something few captains got to experience in their careers.

He found the copper dedication plaque on the wall and traced his fingers over it.

UNITED FEDERATION OF PLANETS
STARSHIP U.S.S. RUBIDOUX
NCC-65334

New Orleans-Class Starship

Utopia Planitia Fleet Yards, Mars

Dedication: “With strength and spirit, we sail beyond the stars.”

“Oh, this one’s going to be fiesty, isn’t she?” Tiberius mused to himself softly as he traced his fingers of strength and spirit.

“Sir?”

Tib turned, “Nothing. Just remarking on the ships build is all.”

“Not bad for a New Orleans class.”

Tiberius strode to the captain’s chair and took a seat. The leather creaked and smiled a little. It always pleased him to hear that sound. Like the ship was shaking his hand and welcoming him back. He traced a hand along the side console built into the chair.

“It’s been too long.”

Lorena was walking the perimeter of the bridge. No doubt counting how many strides she could take in case she was blinded or something tactically crazy.

“It’s only been a few weeks.” She said over the tactical console.

“That’s plenty long enough.”

“Shall I give the word to recall the crew for duty?”

“Send it.” Tib said with a smirk.