Pre-flight Briefing
Posted on Sun Oct 12th, 2025 @ 5:10am by Captain Rovak & Lieutenant Commander S'Lace
Edited on on Sun Oct 12th, 2025 @ 5:23am
800 words; about a 4 minute read
Mission:
UnderMind [4]
Location: Upper Dock Concourse
Timeline: After [✱3], Pre-launch - MD02
Rovak had learned Dr S'Lace's trajectory once the boarding call for the Hercules was given to signal its readiness. He managed to intercept her via turbolift, and matched her walking speed. "Doctor. Thank you for accepting this assignment. I hope it is a task you do not find disagreeable."
"Aiding sentients in distress is never 'disagreeable'," S'Lace replied. She paused, then added, "Unless you are referring to the fact that I am mission head?" she shrugged, "The Captain deemed me a logical choice for this assignment. Who am I to question his wisdom?"
Was there the barest hint of humor in her tone? The faintest ghost of a smile on her lips as she stared ahead...?
Rovak had come to appreciate the Doctor's manner, it was a rare enough thing for a Vulcan to attempt levity, however subtly. Though he spared his emotional impressions for his interactions with his granddaughter, his expression seemed at least neutrally buoyant at her comment, rather than allowing gravity to drag it into sternness. They entered the concourse, and began to cross the room to the pier where the Hercules waited.
"I appreciate your confidence, though as Chief Medical Officer, I would hope that you would be the first to question any faulty logic I may express. I also appreciate that command rank is new to you, despite your extensive proficiency. It is a phenomenon I have known personally. I spent 15 years as an Ensign, and 41 years as a junior Lieutenant. I do not wish to make assumptions about your experience, but I believe you will be well suited to command of this mission, and your familiarity with Klingon culture will be advantageous.” Rovak shared.
S'Lace nodded. Humans seemed to rush to achieve command because of their comparatively shorter life spans compared to other races, such as Vulcans, Romulans and Klingons. It was fortunate that despite their "tender years" so many humans happened to be quite good at handling the responsibility; what they lacked in raw intelligence they made up for in flexible thinking, primitive instinct and possessing that trait which should not exist but some quantum physicists believe did: luck.*
As a non-commissioned officer I held some measure of authority," S'Lace replied, "And while it might not be entirely applicable, as an archeologist I have managed 'digs'," she glanced at the Captain, "It may be difficult for you to imagine attempting to manage a hoard of over enthusiastic non-Vulcan students, each one believing they were just a thin layer of dirt away from discovering a lost civilization."
She allowed herself the tiniest of sighs, "It is fortunate that we Vulcans were born with an inordinate amount of patience compared to the rest of the universe..."
"Indeed." Rovak nodded knowingly. "I have chaperoned numerous academy orientation-week and holiday events off-campus. 'Spring Break', 'Oktoberfest', and a number of other bacchanalian human rituals. I know of few greater challenges to one's patience than enthusiasm untempered by logic. Particularly by those unaccustomed to self-government, who believe that their goals may be within a few thin layers of.. ahem. Social convention." Rovak agreed, retooling his initial train of thought for the sake of professionalism mid-sentence.
S'Lace gave a solemn nod, "And, of course, there are the Klingon rituals," she paused, then amended, "Not rituals per se; just Klingons being...Klingons..."
How did she wind up marrying one? Certainly a mystery of the universe, one she had no urge to solve.
"Have you had much experience with slipstream travel?" Rovak asked, realising he should at least confirm as much before departure, and they were not far from the departure gate now.
"None," S'Lace confessed, "But I am quite certain few, if any, Starfleet engineers had to crack open a patient's chest and perform heart surgery. I shall defer to their expertise and trust my executive officer shall aid me through any difficulties I may encounter."
"Indeed. Major Kalath may be a marine, but her command experience is extensive, even if it relates mostly to combat. I am confident you are each in capable hands." Rovak realised they would soon reach his intended destination, while her path lay ahead. "Unless there is anything further you may wish to ask Doctor, I must be off this way."
"My list of questions is quite long," S'Lace noted, "However, I believe a wise man once said that 'we learn by doing'. I am certain any deficiencies in my command style will be compensated by by my most competent executive officer," S'Lace offered a polite nod, "Captain."
As she made her way alone to the walkway to the ship S'Lace had another question that came to mind: did she have a ready room...
And if so, should she bother decorating it...
*The FASA Star Trek game had a Luck stat which humans excelled at. :)
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