Pre-Launch Meeting

Posted on Sun Nov 2nd, 2025 @ 3:31pm by Captain Samantha Curry & Lieutenant Nathan Cole & Lieutenant T'Po & Lieutenant JG Jaya Patel & Lieutenant JG Tarek Sousa & 2nd Lieutenant Jekebb ch’Bari & Doctor Diwata Saensuk MD

4,347 words; about a 22 minute read

Mission: Long Night
Location: Situation Room, Deck 1
Timeline: Mission Day 1 at 0000

[Starship Challenger]
[Deck One, Situation Room]
[January 2nd, 1500 Hours LT]

The first official meeting of the command staff of the Challenger was less than five minutes away. Samantha Curry sat in the Captain's chair, legs crossed at the knees. She sipped Chef's special chai- with just a touch of chocolate. Not bad. Unusual. The chicory and pinon blends Curry had requested hadn't come on time and were tied up in channels. Oh well. Next flight out of Earth maybe. But Samantha knew she would miss them.

She was studying her notes on a large datapad laid against her thigh. She'd been studying her crew profiles and achievements, their strengths. Deciding on whom would be a good permanent Executive Officer was... in colloquial and ancient terms... a real bitch. Very qualified candidates were thinly spread and the vast majority of them were on ships or installations that seemed to be monitoring the nascent front of the war. Starfleet Command was promising a candidate "soon" but had given the blessing for Cole to stand in for on.

Samantha sympathized. She'd been frogmarched into such a role herself.

"The time is 1500 Hours." The words from the computer broke the humming silence of the bridge. Samantha set her drink aside, and then the datapad. She stood up, straightened her uniform, and then tucked her pad under her arm. It was time to meet the staff more formally- and to issue orders. It was time.

Jaya had shared a room for almost all his life; siblings, a roommate during his cadet years a significant other once for a few months, then roommates once his career, as brief as it currently was. Now for the first time in as long as he could remember he had a cabin to himself. It wasn't overly large, but it was his.

He'd arranged and rearranged it half a dozen times, no small feat given the limited choices he had available. He was till undecided if the arrangement he'd settled on would be the final way it looked, but he'd left it five minutes clean and neat with military precision.

He was drinking a cup of masala chai tea as he stepped on to the Bridge. "Good afternoon, Captain," he greeted.

"Afternoon Mr. Patel," Curry greeted. She'd rounded the Captain's chair and was about to step down into the Situation Room herself, hand resting atop the cool nickel-colored railing behind her chair. She smelled the afternoon Chai in his cup as well, though it seemed to lack the hint of chocolate Singh added to her "special recipe." "Settled in?" She asked, taking the lead down the short steps to the Situation Room. "Lights." She stated and the dark room flickered to life from forward to aft.

"I'm getting there," he replied. "I don't I've had a room to myself since I was four or five. But I'm adjusting. How about you ma'am? I think we're drinking something similar."

"Chef's special chai," Curry confirmed with a raise of her drink.

Second Lieutenant ch’Bari exited the lift onto the bridge and pivoted with crisp economy, his boots sounding a measured cadence as he descended into the situation room. His eyes swept the space, cataloguing personnel, posture, and the arrangement of displays.

In his left hand, the utilitarian shape of an Andorian datapad rested like a weapon at ease. His right arm swung with military precision. Every line of his uniform was sharp, immaculate, a reflection of the Guard’s discipline rather than vanity. To arrive any other way was to dishonor the officer who had trained him, the unit he still represented, and the General who had reminded him, time and again since birth, that impressions were a soldier’s first weapon.

He paused just inside the threshold, antennae angling upward in unconscious readiness. Starfleet’s formality was different. It was softer, more conversational, almost casual in its rituals, but formality nonetheless. He would adapt, even if the cadence felt strange beneath his boots.

With practiced precision, he waited for acknowledgment before moving closer, datapad at the ready, prepared to listen and record every word with soldier’s clarity.

"Good afternoon, Mr. ch'Bari," Curry greeted. He felt... stiff. Soldiery. It reminded Samantha a great deal of her father's polished formality, his military precision. It... uneased her. But she swallowed it. Andorian Guard culture was very different from the culture in Starfleet. She kept her face in the neutral, as unneeded smiles tended to suspect ulterior motives in the Andorian psychology.

There was another presence and her gaze slid over to acknowledge them. "Take a space," she offered to her engineering chief.

T'Po arrived just behind the Andorian officer. Like him, she moved with a certain precision and kept her uniform immaculate and her boots polished. Also like him, she looked upon her human crewmates and Starfleet protocols through alien eyes.That was where the resemblance ceased. Ch'Bari was among the tallest members of the crew and T'Po among the shortest. If his precision spoke of the controlled power of a warrior, hers was the placid reserve of the scientist. Only those who knew her people very well might guess that more powerful feelings lay deep below that serene surface, suppressed with a lifetime of effort and discipline. There peoples had, of course, been enemies until fairly recently. They were allies now in the Coalition of Planets, but that state of affairs was still quite new. She had met him before, but this might be the closest she had ever been to an Andorian. Her datapad, carried in her left hand, was of Starfleet issue. She wished to immerse herself as completely as possible.

She gave a polite nod to ch'Bari as she entered the bridge, but she spoke to the captain. The informal greeting sounded somewhat stilted with the lack of customary human cheerfulness. "Good afternoon, captain."

"Good afternoon." Curry greeted T'Po. "Go ahead and take up a space around the situation table. We'll begin in a few minutes. I'm waiting for a data uplink from Starfleet to finish."

"Yes, captain," T'Po answered and moved to do just that.

Jekebb watched the Vulcan with a quiet intrigue. There people had been at odds for generations before the Coalition was even a thought. He’d never actually seen one in person before stepping foot on Earth, which had a surprising amount of them considering it wasn’t their homeworld.

Nathan slipped in behind the others, his slate tucked under one arm. No cup in hand, he had already downed the standard-issue iced coffee at breakfast. His step was light as he crossed into the Situation Room. His gaze swept the gathering with quick warmth: Patel easy and affable, the Andorian officer sharp as a drawn blade, the Vulcan composed and precise. Different backgrounds, different worlds, but all of them here on the Challenger. Nathan loved that. It did not occur to him that Curry would assemble a team that might not work, not after the few weeks he had spent serving under her. If she said this crew could do it, he believed her.

A grin spread across his face as he offered, “Afternoon, Cap. Afternoon, Lieutenants.” The words landed with friendly ease, more like a greeting at a table than an entry into a briefing. He gave them each a nod before settling near the rail, ready to hear what came next.

"Lieutenant Cole," Samantha greeted.

"Lieutenant Cole," T'Po answered him.

Jaya had been examining his slate when the door had slid open and the new officer arrived. He looked up from it lifting his tea to his lips as the man offered a greeting. He was slightly surprised by Cole's informal tone, but it didn't bother him.

"Good morning Lieutenant Cole," the Helmsman said, "you want something to drink? I can smell chef's coffee, but I don't know if you want to be a guinea pig."

"I would prefer that we not be running experiments on anyone's digestive system, thank-you-very-much," Saensuk said, somewhat jokingly, having caught the tail-end of Patel's statement as she entered the situation room, "...because as much as I am looking forward to getting to know everyone, I am not ready to have you folks staying overnight at my place." She paused a beat before adding, "At least wait until I've finished unpacking."

Curry smiled at Saensuk's jest. "You might want to have a word with Chef. Last I..." She paused, tilted her head and narrowed her eyes with discernment, "Smelled? She was making up some kind of Goa fish curry?" Her nose wrinkled, "Sweet fish," she said with a chuckled strain of discomfort at the very idea.

"Goa fish curry sounds delightful." This from Tarek who had slipped in right on the doctor's heels, doing a half sideways slide so he didn't accidentally bump into the older woman in his haste to get into the room. "Afternoon Captain, Lieutenants," he offered, nodding to each as he made his way toward one of the only empty seats. Like the others he, too, clutched a standard issue Starfleet datapad. Unlike the others he had a stylus tucked behind his ear. It wasn't expressly necessary, but he had a lingering appreciation for hand written language as much as he did for learning new ones and so he'd been pleased to find the stylus he'd packed with his things worked well enough on his datapad.

The helmsman glanced Tarek's way as he entered and gave the man a brief nod and smile. "I thought I smelled something familiar. I'm looking forward to tasting it. I hope it's authentic."

Nathan shook his head lightly at Patel’s offer. “No thanks. I just finished an iced coffee before coming up,” he said with an easy smile. Then, catching the mention of the Goa curry, his expression flickered, a polite effort not to wince. Sweet fish wasn’t exactly on his list of favorite things. He was more of a savory and spicy kind of guy. Looked like it’d be peanut butter and crackers for dinner again.

"Good afternoon, Lieutenant Sousa," T'Po greeted Tarek. She was polite to the communications officer, whom she found interesting, though she had a reaction to the discussion of Goa curry, almost imperceptible to one who did no know Vulcans well. A very faint tensing.

From the spot he'd slid into the Brazilian grinned at the Vulcan woman. "Lieutenant T'Po," he answered with an inclination of his head. It had been interesting to have both the T'Po and ch'Bari along for a night of karaoke and dancing just the other night. It had been an interesting choice and one that he had enjoyed--though he'd been careful not to over indulge. First impressions mattered and he didn't want to lose the good will of any of his crew mates. He wondered, briefly, if the Vulcan had formed any fresh impressions of the experience since they'd returned. Perhaps he'd get the chance to ask her later.

T'Po looked to Sousa. She, too, thought it might be interesting to exchange impressions, but she showed little on her face. Her expression was as serenely stoic as always.

"Lets get started." Curry restarted finally. She took up her position at the head of the table near the ship status display and the stairs that returned them to the Bridge.

He shot Patel a friendly grin, a silent thanks for the offer, before turning his attention back to the Captain. When Curry spoke, Nathan straightened from where he’d been leaning near the rail and stepped up to the table, slate in hand, ready to follow her lead.

"First," the Captain began, leaning in to the head of the table with her fingers splayed, "Lieutenants T'Po and ch'Bari. We appreciate your governments' trust on this mission. I need you to straight away get to a little issue we're having. Stellar Cartography was calibrating the lateral sensor array and we seem to be having a ghosting effect. An imaging double. Please coordinate those diagnostics."

Jekebb nodded firmly. “Aye, sir,” he replied, his deep voice carrying the unmistakable cadence of his Andorian accent; sharp, deliberate, and precise. His words seemed to hang in the air for a moment before he turned his gaze toward T’Po. The flick of his antennae betrayed a spark of silent acknowledgment.

He understood the Vulcan’s efficiency, and she no doubt recognized the Andorian’s resolve. Whatever the task, it would be completed (and completed properly). His posture straightened a touch more, his hands clasped neatly behind his back as if already preparing to move.

"Aye, captain," T'Po said promptly. She glanced back to the Andorian. She did, indeed, recognize the resolve in his voice, but she hoped this would not be an issue to sorely test it. She hoped to resolve the matter quickly and efficiently, if possible, but she would not know until she and Jekebb had a chance to look into it.

"As you can see, we don't have a First Officer yet." Samantha straightened and folded her arms, "I've been on Admiral Brand's back about this for the better part of a month. But the truth is," her brows rose in emphasis, "There simply are no ready candidates available right now. Thank the war front. So I'm stepping back from being a Howler Monkey and I will be designating the tasks of an XO to a number of you, until we can fill the position. Now the lion's share of those duties will fall to," and she gestured at Nathan, "Lieutenant Cole."

Nathan’s eyes went wide before he could stop himself. For half a heartbeat, he forgot to breathe. Even though there had been hints, little things in tone or phrasing from the captain in earlier conversations, he had convinced himself it was temporary, an informal stand-in until Starfleet sent someone with more gray at the temples. Hearing it said out loud in front of everyone, so matter-of-factly, hit harder than he expected.

He opened his mouth as if to answer, but nothing came out. The best he could manage was a quick nod, an effort at confident acknowledgment that fell just shy of convincing. Heat crept into his cheeks anyway, the kind that came from both pride and panic in equal measure. He swallowed, squared his shoulders, and gave Curry a look that said he understood, or at least that he would try like hell to live up to it.

Jaya let out a slow breath. For a fraction of a second, when the Captain had made her announcement he'd be the one tasked with the role. A role he didn't feel ready for at that moment in time. He was glad that Lieutenant Cole would be the one. He managed to keep his face impassive.

Jekebb kept his expression neutral, but his thoughts wandered as he stood among his new colleagues. He silently wondered if Starfleet would ever allow someone like him, an alien, to hold a command position within their ranks. The Coalition might have been built on the ideals of unity and shared purpose, but in practice, Starfleet was human.

Its ships, its command structures, even its unspoken traditions, they all bore the fingerprints of Earth. That wasn’t necessarily a criticism, but it reminded him that he was an outsider here, no matter how welcome the smiles or polite the greetings.

T'Po did not wonder, for at least one Vulcan had held the position before. In the present case, however, she had neither expected nor particularly desired it. Lieutenant Cole seemed the most logical choice. She gave a simple nod of acknowledgment.

Curry shifted attention. "However. Lieutenant Sousa." She picked up a datapad, turned it and handed it to the man. "You and Dr. Saensuk will be handling the bulk of communicating any needs from the crew and the ship, to their Captain." She grinned a bit cheekily, blinking, "That'd be myself."

"Of course, captain," Saensuk replied, "I think we can manage." It was a simple enough request, and provided that it remained temporary, there likely weren't going to be many problems. She would simply have to navigate things carefully in order to preserve the crew's faith and trust.

Though the doctor seemed unconcerned enough, Tarek's eyebrows shot up with something like surprise. Languages... communication... making himself understood and understanding... He was suddenly painfully aware of how the description given to an officer covering the Communications of a ship like this might also be expected to help translate the crew's needs to the Captain. Not that he felt entirely confident in his ability to discharge this new duty without accidentally creating a misunderstanding or two. Still, tamping back his surprise, he nodded and echoed the doctor's confirmation. "Happy to help."

"Lieutenant T'Po, Lieutenant ch'Bari. I'm going to ask that you both serve as our Coalition Liaison Officer." She glanced at her datapad, and then first to Jekkeb. "ch'Bari, I realize how heavy your load is right now, getting this ship through its shakedown and integrating non-Starfleet systems with ours. I'd like you to coordinate intelligence and communications with the Imperial Guard," she was ticking items off her datapad as each time she spoke, it chimed, "The Rigellian Confederacy and the Coridan Union."

Curry's dark gaze looked upon T'Po, "Lieutenant, you'll coordinate the V'Ket, the Tellarite Defense Forces and the Denobulan Peacekeepers." She settled the datapad with a dull clatter, "I'm having our teams set up the briefing room on D-Deck to serve as your office to coordinate." She nodded at Cole, "Please make sure we don't leave without making sure they have their security clearances to access those reports, please, Number One."

Jekebb listened intently to the Captain’s orders, his posture straightening instinctively as each word landed with purpose. The Andorian’s expression was unreadable, carved in the same stoic discipline drilled into him since his childhood. When the Captain finished, he gave a single, firm nod. It was crisp, deliberate, perfectly measured.

“Aye, Captain,” he replied, his deep voice steady and sure. The syllables carried that unmistakable Andorian precision, every consonant struck cleanly, like the edge of a blade. His antennae angled slightly forward betraying the spark of readiness beneath his composed exterior.

"Aye, captain," T'Po said. She knew she was the logical choice to liaise with her own people and the captain doubtless knew she spoke Denobulan from her file. While the Tellarites were not well known to her and had not exactly been friendly to Vulcans before the Coalition, her people had never had quite as adversarial a relationship with them as the Andorians had. All very logical, in her opinion.

Curry stayed her eyes on T'Po, "Getting to the meat of this. Lieutenant." She addressed her Vulcan officer, "What do you know about the Orions? Do the Vulcan Science Academy have any archives they'd be willing to let us access"

"I will certainly inquire," T'Po answered the captain, "but most of what we know is what you already know. The Orions engage in slavery and piracy. They also resent the way many other species respond to this. I believe Captain Archer discovered information about their social structure which had not previously been known to us."

Curry nodded once, "Appreciated." Her fingers splayed again against the console, "Because, ladies, chans, and gentlemen, our destination is the Orion Borderlands." She tapped a button and pointed at the screen on the wall separating them from the Bridge. A woman's face appeared alongside another woman's face, in split-screen. One was a regal-looking Orion woman with characteristics Humans might attribute to their eastern hemisphere. She was dressed in complex regalia, her hair up in an elaborate headdress with satinized metal that resembled electrum- almost certainly this material being called, "Latinum."

The other woman was more plain faced and severe- a Coridanite with the scaly nuances to her forehead. Her skin was beginning to sag and jowl with her age, her hair already gray. "The Coridanite ambassador has asked us to pick up this woman." and the Orion image blinked and took up the full screen, "Her name is Szyraa. She is someone important in the Kolar Caju." Samantha flexed the bridge of her nose in a wrinkle, "I hope I'm saying that right. We are onboarding this ambassadorial figure and transporting her to Coridan V for negotiations."

Nathan felt the meeting pick up speed and forced his brain to match pace. He flicked his slate awake and started a neat list as if the act itself could steady his pulse. Coalition liaison clearances. D-Deck office access. Routing Guard, Rigellian, and Coridan feeds for ch’Bari. V’Ket, Tellarite, and Denobulan lines for T’Po. He underlined Crew comms to CO and added Sousa and Saensuk beside it, a quiet nod to the captain’s trust and to the two people he would be leaning on often. When Curry called him Number One, his mouth twitched toward a smile he did not let fully land. He answered it with another small nod, this one firmer, and kept writing.

At the Orion Borderlands his hand stilled for a second. Slavers. Pirates. His jaw set, barely noticeable, as the Orion and Coridanite faces filled the screen. He was not a cynic by nature and he was not about to start now, but the protective instinct flared hot and uncomplicated. Get Szyraa aboard. Keep the crew safe. Deliver her to Coridan V. He added a final note in the margin, all caps for himself: PROTECT THE SHIP. Then he looked to Curry, ready for the next assignment, cheeks cooler now and focus clear.

An Orion! Sousa leaned forward, studying the woman on the screen. His Orion was middling, at best, but he could get through a conversation is needs be. If nothing else this would offer an excellent opportunity to practice and maybe he could make the woman's time on the ship feel a bit less lonely. There really was nothing quite like talking with someone else in your own original tongue to make you feel seen and heard. He quietly tapped a short note to himself for later to review what they had in the language data banks and brush up on his pronunciation and intonation during shake down. Maybe he'd see if anyone else had some basic Orion in their back pocket who might want to practice.

"In between the space from here and Orion, we'll shake down. Mr. Cole schedule a series of drills to test our weapons and our new shields," she nodded to Jekkeb. "In the meantime, Mr. Patel. Lieutenant T'Po. Be on the lookout for anything out there that could test our sensors."

"Will do, Cap, I’ll have a drill slate ready and loop in Engineering and Helm," Nathan responded, taking some additional notes.

"Aye," Captain," the helmsman spoke up, "Where I'm from we depend on sensors a lot. So, I took additional courses at the Academy, and I have the experience I'll do my part to keep us safe."

"Aye, captain," T'Po said. Her mind was already racing through possibilities. It would have to be something about which they could establish an independent base of knowledge. Otherwise, it was comparing sensor readings to sensor readings.

Saensuk listened as the others received their assignments. Though none of it, save for the captain's earlier request, seemed to directly impact her own duties, there was always a chance that there might be an opportunity for her to help out. The additional medical databases she'd received included information about both the Orions and the Coridanites. It was possible that some of that information might prove useful to the captain or Lieutenant Cole. She would have to read through them more closely to find out.

Curry straightened, "We launch in half an hour folks. Mr. Patel? Start getting our clearings from Starfleet Command. Coordinate with the Steward and Quartermaster and lets start locking down the umbilicals and offload anybody who doesn't want a trip to Orion." She nodded. "Thank you all. To your stations."

ch’Bari straightened up, offering a curt nod before departing the situation room, off to the Engineering.

The first part of the Captain's orders were easy for Jaya. he didn't know communications like he knew the helm, or even sensors, but he had the basics down.

He reached out to Starfleet Command to get the requite clearances.

"I'll be back in 10," he announced. He wanted to make sure the other part of her command, getting everyone one off the ship was done, even if he had to do it himself.

Tarek watched as the group shifted from the comfortable, if somewhat formal, arrangement for the briefing to motion--each making their way toward the bridge and stations beyond. He joined the shuffle, eager to settle into his own station even if they still had 30 minutes to go. Breaking to the left from the conference room he rounded the back of the bridge and made for his station, sliding into the chair and looking over each bit of his console with the same joy you might see on the face of a kid at Christmas.

T'Po took her station and began calming going through her opening checklist. If she had any time left over, she began composing an inquiry to Vulcan, asking for any additional information on the Orions.

Nathan moved from the situation table to the Tactical console, sliding into place with practiced ease. His hands began their rhythm across the controls, checking phase cannon alignments, torpedo launcher readiness, and hull polarization levels. Each system came back green, the steady hum beneath his feet rising as if the ship itself was waking up.

He began sketching out a set of drills on his slate, rough outlines for weapons and shield tests to run once they cleared Earth orbit. The list grew quickly: target acquisition calibrations, shield harmonics checks, crew response timing. Satisfied the armory was ready for departure, Nathan leaned back slightly, watching the readouts settle into their launch configuration. The Challenger was ready.

 

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