Accolades, Part 1 - Entrances

Posted on Wed 19th Aug, 2026 @ 12:00pm by Captain Gordon Francis (Ret.) & Captain Mindo & Commander Entaaro Nasz & Commander Heriah Rex & Lieutenant Commander Gabriel Barron & Lieutenant Victor Delling MD & Magnus Temple & Khellian s'Siedhri MD & Commander Geraldine "Geri" Severide & Chief Petty Officer Larry Kersenboom (Ret.) & Daeren Iril & Verelan i'Mhiessan t'Saeihr

2,601 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: [MAIN] Learning to Fly
Location: Second Star- Starfleet Command Center
Timeline: Three Days after explosion- 0900

-Start-

{Second Star- Ambassadors Lounge}

Judah alerted his captain the microsecond he became aware the Starfleet officer beaming over was bringing holographic hardware. His body was comatose in the morgue of their sickbay, but his mind was merged with the ship's computers. He analyzed the device, determining why it was brought here. Holographic communication was ultra secure, and it usually meant trouble. An intelligence officer on the Second Star had once tried to take over the ship using legal trickery and her orders had come in through a holo comm.

When the Lieutenant materialized, he gave his name, "Adjutant Threff Luten, representing Admiral T'Jonn..."

Captain Beck said it was ok, all of it. so Judah made no further mention.

The Excelsior class starship had been repurposed into a merchant operation, operating missions, hauling freight, and in this case, offering their ship as a temporary command center while Starbase 109 was rebuilt. This also kept the Thunderchild free to respond to threats and maintain order in the Triangle. A large portion of decks seven through eleven belonged to Starfleet currently, and the civilians on board found work repairing the station or assisting in the relocation of so many people to better homes.

The last three days had asked for everyone to "make it work." To call it a mess would cruelly understate the matter. But it worked somehow. Alidade of the Thunderchild had the capacity to handle all comm traffic with ease, Judah was her right hand. The Ticonderoga had been completely dismantled and the parts used to repair the worst of the damage to 109. Though the station had been grievously wounded, the prognosis was good, all thanks to the people who fought the good fight and kept the station's core systems alive. All it had taken was the beating heart of the Mobile Star Cradle lashed to the outside of the hull to keep it in the redzone just above certain calamity.

So as the adjutant set up the holocomm array, Admiral T'jonn appeared. His uniform was dress black, a tunic of ebony over charcoal highlights. His Sallow skin, a gift of blended Vulcan-Romulan heritage seemed to merge into the tunic without a seam. There was no rank on his collar, but the pips were represented in the stitches themselves marking five solid buttons encased in a frame. He was one of the Triumvirate, a compartmentalized three-way command structure to ensure their Intelligence capabilities were never totally exposed and could survive the loss of any two others. For years Andrus Grax had been their contact for sector Intelligence, but now they had earned a visit from one of the men in black.

The Ambassadors Lounge was well appointed, a slice of nostalgia from the old eras. The Bridge Conference room wasnt part of their lease on the ship, and apparently was used by the Ferengi as an oversized opulent office. However this ship was once a state vessel and had an Ambassadors Lounge, meant for dinners, or negotiations. T'jonn found the aesthetic satisfying in an odd way. He turned to his adjutant, the one actually on board, asking "Please signal them to come to the Ambassadors Lounge if we are ready, Lt. Luften."

=/\= Attention, this is an all call for Starbase Senior Staff and Senior Thunderchild personnel to convene at the Second Star Ambassadors Lounge for Staff meeting at 1300 hours. This is on behalf of Admiral T'jonn R. In addition, we ask for the following delegations to send representatives: Garden District Municipality, Commanders of the Ehtevau, and Commanders of the Second Star.

T'jonn nodded with satisfaction, "Thank you. Have the Stewards on board prepare foods native to the species represented. Make it a grand reception, I have seen the state dinners they have here, something like that."

"Balloons and party favors, sir?"

"It isn't a birthday party for a child, we are giving them their due for an impossible situation managed with great success."

"Streamers and table bunting, then?"

"That'll do it. In Pacific Blue and Ivory standards."

The adjutant snapped to attention and left the room, calling for the Master Steward, Othor Jaxz.

T'jonn simply fizzled away, leaving only the holo array behind.

{Time: -1325-}

Captain Francis entered the room and immediately looked for the food. The room was a broom closet compared to the command center on Starbase 109. Another big difference between the two was that this one still existed.

The streamers and tables were pointlessly decorated, but the aged Captain appreciated the effort, and remarked so to one of the attending staff. Frank stepped up to see the catering table and was very pleased with the cuisine. The table was still only half full, but so far he saw pizza, fried chicken, Risan meatballs (mmm!), and grilled ponibur. It was then that Frank saw Qaraq's familiar logo, which explained the ponibur, a sea-faring creature native to Delavi. While it tasted like an Earth shrimp, the food was prepared like steak. Very tender, juicy, and--with a touch of Bagosian lemon--to die for.

Frank decided to wait politely for the rest of the guests to arrive before he... oh hell, he thought, and went for the ponibur.

Heriah was in the turbolift, only moments from the lounge. She was alone so she straightened her hair...again.

'Making yourself look good for those who only want to pat themselves on the back?'

Heriah adjusted her uniform some, cupped her hand under her breasts and lifted them, getting her bra straight.

'Oh. I see. Hoping an admiral will notice you. Want to add to that body count I see.'

"Shut up, Rex," she said as the turbolift stopped and the door slid open. She stepped out and ventured to the lounge. Heriah was but a few minutes early and noticed Frank had already arrived...

'...and helping himself to the noms.'

Heriah stepped up to him and met her old friend with a smile. "Captain," she said.

Geri knew how to be demure and stay out of sight. Following Entaaro made her invisible, as he made a direct line to the table with piles of meat. The tall Klingon was visually distracting on his own, but the sight of him grabbing four skewers of meat and vegetables then chewing them stick and all was utter perfection for her purposes.

He said he wasn't a good spy, but there are uses... Geri smirked to herself remaining unseen until she had already made it inside and past the extroverted vanguard of small talkers who poached the door.

"KABOBS! KAAA-BUH-BOBS! Delightful!" Entaaro crowed to a steward unfortunate enough to catch his eye.

Geri was however stunned to realize she had also been followed in, by a fellow master of being unseen. Captain'Lo was short enough to hunch and be below chest height. Feeling used and bemused Geri smiled at the diminutive kindred soul.

Larry Kersenboom had heard the thundering Klingon voice from outside in the corridor. Actually seeing the Klingon in question upon entering the room was an eye-widening experience. Reminds me of a Wookie, Larry thought but very diplomatically did not say aloud. He had donned his Starfleet uniform for the occasion because the summons had sounded awfully official, and he had been invited by inference. He looked around for Kya Adtanis but didn't see her yet.

It was time to save at least some of the hors d'oeuvres from being devoured by the Wookie--er, Klingon--so Larry took a plate from the stack on a table draped in white cloth and decorated with blue streamers. Why the party, he had no idea. Maybe just to celebrate being alive? Larry shrugged to himself. Far be it from him to pass up a free feed. He hoped it wouldn't last too long, though, as he had work to get back to.

Larry looked over the offerings and stifled a low whistle. Besides shish kebabs, the spread was impressive. Samosas and tamarind sauce, crispy and steaming hot! Tamales. Hasperat. Numerous other nibbles he had no names for.

Probably replicated, but who cares? Larry thought as he served himself two samosas and drizzled them with the sauce. He then helped himself to cheese--no crackers--and a roll of hasperat that he added a dash of hot sauce to. Armed with that and a glass of iced tea, he found a seat at the table below where he imagined the salt would have been placed in medieval times and began cutting into the samosas. He didn't know anyone there, and they were all the starbase's top brass. Never seen so many commanders in one place in my life, he mused as he nibbled on a bite of spicy samosa. Oh! I would swear this is real. Excellent! He could mingle in a few minutes; a man had to have his priorities on straight.

Commander Mindo, much like Entaaro, had also found the kabobs. It was near comical seeing him carry one. Compared to him it looked like it could be a wizard's staff.

Larry finished his samosas and other snacks in short order--you never had to tell an enlisted man twice to eat while the getting was good! People were still entering and mingling, and he supposed he ought to work the room some. He dropped his plate and utensils into a recycler, refilled his tea glass, and walked about, nodding greetings at people.

"Hello," he said to the little kid eating a shish-kebab. Then Larry paused and blinked. Little kids did not wear commander's pips. He saluted. Starfleet was not precisely military, but showing respect never hurt. "I'm CPO Larry Kersenboom, sir. Good to meet you."

Mindo's propulsion boots activated and he hovered up to the Chief's height. He extended his free hand. "I'm Commander Mindo," he said. "No need to salute, Chief. It's good to meet you too. What exactly do you do around here?"

Larry shook Cmdr. Mindo's hand. "I'm retired from Starfleet and came here to live with some friends of mine. I'm at this shindig because I'm part of the Garden District delegation." He gestured toward Mindo's boots. "I'm really glad you have those things; my knees aren't what they used to be. I could kneel down to talk to you, but getting up again wouldn't be pretty."

Mindo regarded his boots. "These are just toys. Designed them my first year at the Academy. You said you're living in Garden District? What brought you there?"

Larry sipped from his tea glass. "My friends and I are all retired Starfleet enlisted crew. We used to form a cargo handling battalion and also did the odd bit of maintenance work. Back when the Garden District was still called Brown Sector and was something of a slum, me and my team cleaned out a clogged A/C duct that hadn't been tended to since the Dominion War. Long story short, Starfleet left the base under civilian authorities who didn't do their job, and when Starfleet took the base back over a few years ago, Brown Sector folks didn't want anything to do with 'em. I was getting bored with retirement and roped my friends into helping clear the A/C clog. We wound up forming a business. So, when Garden District was formed, Kya Adtanis asked me to be part of the city council of the Garden District, and I said yes."

"Kya," Mindo said. "I've heard the name, but I'm afraid I haven't met her yet. I'd like to know more about her if I'm going to be the new..." Mindo paused for a second, then finished with, "...the new guy around here."

"She's well worth knowing," Larry said. "I don't know her whole story, but I know she went through a rough spot--either a divorce or parted ways from a guy she's better off without--and wound up here. She's a born leader, though. Realistically, there was no one else the Garden District folks even considered to be their first mayor. I'll be glad to introduce you once she gets here. You should also get to know a guy named Renato Solis, who is kind of Kya's right-hand man. If you need to find something or find out something, he can do it."

Mindo nodded. "I know him," he said. "Well, not exactly 'know.' I met him briefly, when I was handling something in Garden District during my short tenure as Chief of Security. He's an intriguing person."

"He's the one who told me about the air conditioning duct," Larry said. He glanced around and noticed that a lot more people were coming into the room. "Looks like the party's getting lively."

Victor entered late as sometimes the medical bay did not release its hold on him easily. He wore a lab coat over his uniform with the caduceus stitched on the breast. The food smell hit him immediately and summoned his appetite just as the comm call had summoned him. He walked slowly in that direction, so as not to appear like that was his only goal.

Gabriel entered the stateroom and looked about. He nodded as he saw many captain's ranked individuals and then his eyes locked onto the food table and his stomach grumbled. He had been working for seventeen hours and had missed his meals. He made his way to the table and began picking up several different foods and what appeared to be a tea of some type.

Not far behind was Ambassador Temple and his legal aid Genevieve Gillard, hoping they weren't the last to arrive. They had just docked with the Second Star after a brief mission to meet with the Trill Ambassadors in the White Diamond Nebula. Temple was still wearing his Diplomatic uniform; a light grey tunic with purple accents, such was the haste of their arrival. As they moved into the lounge, Magnus and Gen took in the scene, looking for familiar faces while reviewing the set up.

Gen tilted her head slightly, sending a wicked side-eye glance to Magnus. "Streamers." She murmured to him, eyebrows pointedly raised.

"It's a celebration." Magnus replied, his smile tight but his tone a mixture of lecture and mirth. "Why not?"

Gen stifled a laugh as they moved to greet the present guests. Magnus gave a general, boisterous "hello" to the assembled crowd.

Khellian and Ambassador Verelan entered together having encountered each other in the short hall leading to the entrance. Their quiet conversation halted as the noise of the room rolled out of the open doors like a physical thing. Discomfort showed on the Ambassadors face for the space between breaths, before she touched the doorframe and entered. Khellian watched the Ambassador for a moment, pondering the ancient gesture and once more allowing his thoughts to drift to the Romulus hed left.

Daeren Iril, the Trill consul, caught sight of Ambassador i'Miessan and her companion as they entered. The fellow accompanying her was older, not her nephew, who Daeren had met occasionally. He walked over to the pair. "Good afternoon, Ambassador," he said and also glanced at Khellian to acknowledge the man's presence. "I'm glad to hear that you and your people survived the attack."

Pampo Gnu had been haunting the Romulans, and took his chance to score some points, "Not only survived, but saved the day. We need as many hands as we could get putting out fires and literally keeping the air inside. These fine folks were there despite the danger!"

The lights dimmed, and the holo grid activated in an audible snap...


-TBC-

 

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