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Star Trek: Chimera
Season One - Episode: "Day One"

2401 - Stardate: 78312.5
The Beta Rigel star system. Home to fourteen planets that orbit Rigel-A, the primary star, and billions of life-forms of multiple species, including the indigenous Zami, Chelon and Jelna. In the centuries since they discovered their place in the wider galaxy as a whole, it has also welcomed those from other worlds to call it 'home', including humans and many other members of the United Federation of Planets.
For over two hundred years, the United Rigel Worlds and Colonies and Federation have been friends and allies, but now that relationship has fractured and broken down. Thanks to the meddling of the long-thought-dead species, the Iconians, the so-called 'Demons of Air and Darkness'.
In 2399, 197 years since the citizens of Rigel voted to join as a full-fledged member state, that alliance ended with the Rigel system seceeding from the Federation...
...except for one planet. Rigel IV.
Home to many Federation citizens spread across the four small continents the fourth planet has. This includes the native 'Hill People', a tribe of nomadic Zami who have rejected many of the trappings of modern society and embrace the ways of their ancestors. Thousands more have made lives for themselves in the small but grand cities doted across the planet, such as Vanir, Gorar, Thursvyl and Kodesh.
The people who call Rigel IV home still believe in the message and work of the Federation, leaving them to stand apart from the other members of the United Rigel Worlds. Instead, they remain as part of the Federation, hoping to act as a bridge for the time when the other planets of the Rigel system decide to rejoin.
Wedged closed to the Ranler Mountains, on the continent of Ahuma, stands Starbase 134. The final bastion of Starfleet's presence in the system in the two years since Rigel IV became the only planet in the system to remain as part of the Federation. Although the rest of the United Rigel Worlds may no longer be members of the Federation, there still exists many trade, commerce, ship-building and defence agreements between the powers.
And Darren Tel was about to call it home.
The twenty-seven-year-old newly promoted lieutenant commander stood in the forward observation gallery of the Sovereign-class Starship Yamato. Looking out at the planet below. He thinks back on the last four years of his career serving on the personal flagship of Admiral Edward Jellico. It's been an experience, to say the least.
But today is a new beginning. He grins with unabashed glee and excitement at the idea of his new post, that of Assistant Chief Security/Tactical Officer. Although he wouldn't be head of a department, his promotion and transfer orders had explained that he would be involved in all command level decisions and discussion. So, he knows this is no time to get complacent.
[Bridge to Commander Tel. The Starbase is ready for you, sir.]
The comm-call snapped Darren out of his quiet rumination. It was time to leave. He'd already said his goodbyes to the few friends he'd had on board. As an up-and-coming junior officer moving up on the command track, he'd had a pretty heavy work schedule. Besides, making friends had never really come easy to him.
But he was thankful for the all-round practical hands-on education, training and experience he'd received aboard the Yamato these past four years.
Now it was time for Darren Tel to start a new chapter in his life...

* * *

Outside the large Command Centre of Starbase 134, Commander Gabriel 'Gabe' Bush stands ready to welcome the newest member of their oddball family. He can't help but be taken aback a little by how young the new arrival looks to him. But Gabe, a man out of time, has been feeling the years a lot more of late, so he puts those initial impressions to the side. Better to let Lt. Commander Tel show him what he's capable of first, before making any conclusions.
With that in mind, Bush stepped forward and offered both his hand and his most charming smile, "Mr. Tel. Welcome to Starbase 134."
"Pleasure to be here, sir." Tel is surprisingly laid back, just about capable of concealing the butterflies fluttering around his stomach. It impresses Bush a little. Most new arrivals were overflowing with eagerness, but not this guy. His grip was also impressively firm as he took Bush's extended hand and pumped it with vigour.
As the young man adjusted his grip on his duffel and carryall, Bush stuck his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to the massive red-hued building behind him, "The Residential Block is right over there so let's get you settled first. Then we can get to the Chimera Nickel Tour afterwards."
As Bush leads the way, he can see the curiosity burning in Tel's eyes. He knows exactly what the young man is wondering. "You're wondering about the 'Chimera' bit, right?"
Bush then goes on to explain, enjoying playing the 'wise old man' role, "It comes from the early days of the base's dedication, back in the 2200s. See, some starbases don't just get numerical designations, they also a 'name', like Starbase Earhart or Yorktown. Although it's not in any official paperwork, Starbase 134 is also known by personnel stationed here as Starbase Chimera."
Tel's eyes were wide with wonder, as this is all new to him. Somewhat shyly, he admits to Bush, "But then I've only ever served on starships, so I guess it's not that much of a surprise."
Bush couldn't help but laugh a little, patting him on the shoulder in an almost avuncular manner. He points out that there are a few things about life on a planet-bound starbase he will have to get used to. But even only having met Tel mere minutes ago, Bush is confident he'll fit in easily enough. "Just make sure your sense of humour is functioning and you’re ready to roll up your sleeves when the going gets tough and you’ll do fine."

* * *

After the tour was done, having returned Tel to his apartment, an exhausted Gabe Bush was glad to call it quits. It wasn't so much playing tour-guide and babysitting that had tired him out, but rather the bombardment of follow-on questions. To say Darren Tel was inquisitive would be grossly underselling it. Not only that, but they'd been well thought out and built upon a general understanding of starbase operations and idiosyncracies.
Still, relieved to have been soothed by a sonic shower, happy he was out of uniform and into some much more looser-fitting clothes, Bush arrived to visit his son Jason, for their weekly father/son evening.
Stepping into his son Jason's abode, he smiled at some of the keepsakes dotted around. The older-model of combadge that had been in use during Jason's own brief tenure in Starfleet. Various sketches of starships, doodles and designs that had come to his brilliant mind. The degrees he'd earned both in college and postgrad. Bush is incredibly proud of his son, the genius, reminding him so much of his late mother.
As they sit down and eat, Jason only has one topic in mind - he wants to know all about the newest member of the Chimera family.
"You'll find out tomorrow for yourself," Bush teases, with a twinkle of delight in his eyes, "I mean, you'll be in the morning huddle, right?"
Jason shot him a mock-angry glare, but couldn't keep a smile off his face, "Come on, Dad. Give me something to go on with!"
With a soft chuckle, Bush tried to think how to summarise the intense young man he'd met earlier. "Well," he started, "He's driven, that's for sure. He survived serving under Admiral 'Get-It-Done' for four years, so bonus points for that." Thinking over the insightful questions that Tel had posed, it made Bush realize something, "You know, actually, in a lot of ways, you two are a lot alike."
"Really?" Jason couldn't help but be intrigued. It wasn't every day that they got anyone new transferring to Rigel IV.
"Oh, yeah," Bush confirmed, as he digs into his meal, his appetite getting the better of him. "I think you will like the guy."
Jason sat back, absently playing with his own meal. Guess we'll see tomorrow, he wondered.

* * *

Whoa... Even a day later, it's still takes my breath away.
His mouth agape in awe and respect, Darren Tel takes in the view of the Command Centre of Starbase 134. Or, as he was now trying to get used to, Starbase Chimera.
Darren knew of the rumours. That Starbase 134 was not exactly an ideal posting. That the base itself was a rundown, backwater outpost. He'd kept those kinds of thoughts to himself, though, as Bush had proudly given him the grand tour the day before. Any allusions and doubts he may have had were quickly dispelled by the Executive Officer's comprehensive walkabout.
But Darren was also aware that the building was an outdated design that had not received significant any real improvements since its commissioning. This was the second iteration, the first being built shortly after the collective Rigel worlds had joined the Federation. But this current assortment of buildings did not look like any Starfleet installation that Darren was familar with.
It had been commissioned and designed by a native Zami by the name of Dha'Za Diah, to replace the first base after it had been almost leveled during the Federation and Klingon war of the late 2250s. Several other parts had been added afterwards, like the dedicated Residential Block and the Advanced Starship Design Bureau Facility. Each maintaining the design principles and contours of the previous buildings, so they flowed and merged well together, instead of looking like some kind of patchwork assortment.
The sudden and abrupt noise from the engines of shuttlecraft passing near overhead broke Darren out of his momentary stupor. If I don't get a damn move on, I'm going to be late for my first day!
But as he made his way into the reception foyer, everything that Darren had spent the last few weeks studying up on, the schematics, floorplans and blueprints, all flew out of his head in an instant. As embarrassment threatened to overwhelm him, he realized he had no idea where to go!
As Darren tries to get his bearings, he is caught completely by surprise by Jason Tel who, seeing his lost look, tries to offer some help. Much to their mutual embarrassment, Darren let out a startled and high-pitched yelp, nearly jumping out of his skin. Jason, trying not to laugh, quickly offers an apology to the mortified Darren, who tries to act nonchalant. It was made even worse by the fact that he was immediately taken by how good-looking Jason is. He could have stared into those eyes for hours.
Jason offered a warm smile, completely oblivious to the fact that it made him appear even more attractive. Having already deduced who Darren is, he offers his hand and introduces himself, "I'm in charge of the Theoretical Propulsion division over at the ASDB Facility. I also act as a liaision with the command staff."
Darren is taken aback and more then a little impressed, since Jason looks only a little older then him, but he's running his own department with the Bureau. That's when the name hits him, "Wait a minute? Bush? As in...?"
Jason grinned cheekily, "Yeah, Commander Bush is my dad." His eyes twinkled with amusement, "Play your cards right, I can put in a good word for you."
Darren couldn't help but laugh, suprising himself a little. He wasn't normally this comfortable talking to a perfect stranger. But something about Jason just put him immediately at ease. Even his initial chagrin was a distant memory. In fact, both of them seem disappointed when their hand-shake finally ends.
Jason offers to lead Darren to where he needs to be, since it's the same place he himself is heading. As they walk off together, Jason's own curiosity gets the better of him, as he starts trying to get to know Darren. They discuss his service under Admiral Jellico, the learning experience it was and how different life on a starbase is compared to service on a starship.
Darren also has questions of his own, as he can't help but be a little curious about Bateson. The man is a legend, the idea of serving under him daunting, even after surviving Admiral Jellico. He had wanted to quiz Commander Bush, but it hadn't felt appropriate. Jason, though, as a civilian might be more willing, "Any pointers you can offer?"
"The captain’s a good man," Jason offered with utter sincerity. "Hell, in a way, he's been almost like a second father to me over the years." He points out that, technically, Bateson is one of the oldest serving captains in the fleet, "What Bateson doesn’t know isn’t worth knowing. He'd be an admiral if that was what he wanted." Jason lookedd back at Darren with an intensity that surprised them both. Rising to the defence of a man who'd been part of Jason's life for as long as he could remember, "If you've heard anything bad about him, my advice is to just ignore it. They're talking out their asses."
His gaze softened, his blue eyes almost like a mirror of Darren's own, "Can he be a hard-ass? Tough? Yeah, but it's only for the better of everyone around him."

* * *

Jason’s words bounced around Darren’s brain as he found himself under the close scrutiny and stern countenance of the esteemed Captain Morgan Bateson.
They stood in the somewhat cramped Station Commander’s office, just off the main floor of Central Ops. Through the double doors, there was a clear view of the main work area, split into various sections of consoles and responsibilities. In the centre of it all was a large conference table that acted as a holographic situation display for the senior officers when required.
But all Darren had eyes for at the moment was the intense gleam of Bateson’s foreboding glare as he sized up his newest officer. He felt a cold trickle of sweat make its way down his back, wondering just how long he was going to be before he withered under the captain’s gaze. Maybe he’s realizing he made a mistake in choosing me for the job..?
Darren’s growing doubts and concerns were quickly ended when Bateson broke into the biggest grin, his eyes glinting with amusement as he chuckled. "Sorry, Mr. Tel, I couldn’t keep up the ‘grouchy’ act any longer!"
He stepped around the desk and extended his hand, "Welcome to Starbase Chimera, son." He pumped Darren’s hand with vigour belaying his age, "Good to have you on our team."
"It’s an honour to be here, sir."
Bateson grinned with pride, "You bet it is, young man. We know the rumours and non-too-friendly comments that this old place gets. But it’s all bull. We’ve made something of this place and its mission." He clapped a supportive hand on the younger man’s shoulder, "Come on, I know you met a few of my senior officers, but let me introduce you to the rest."

* * *

As Darren spoke with the captain and Commander Bush, Jason studied the new arrival and latest member of the Chimera family intently. Paying close attention to just how snug his uniform fit him, especially the way that the pants fitted the younger man's posterior. He's got a nice ass...
"See something you like, Jason?"
The teasing yet snarky comment brought Jason up short. He quickly stood a little straighter and cleared his throat, more then a little self-conscious now, as the person who had spoken slinked up to him. "I don't know what you mean, Larreka."
The blonde haired Romulan, Chimera's chief science officer, shot him a dubious look, "Oh, please. You haven't taken your eyes off him you both walked in." She smiled coyly, her eyes twinkling just enough to make him realize how much she was enjoying tormenting him, "Has our newest recruit caught your fancy?"
Jason rolled his eyes at her playful comment. Larreka wasn’t your traditional Romulan. Although born and raised on Romulus, having served in the Imperial Star Navy, she had lived among humans since the destruction of her home-world. He'd once asked his father why it appeared she seemed so intent on being so unconventional for a Romulan. He had explained that while it may look that way, it was really just her way of coping with everything she'd lost. Of forgetting the horrors she'd witnessed when her home, family and children had been lost in the Supernova of 87.
He finally responded with equal humour, "It's not every day we get someone new joining our merry bunch of misfits and miscreants." He shrugged, trying to exude an air of nonchalance, "Just enjoying the novelty for as long as it lasts."
Her lips pursing, Larreka didn't seem to buy what he was selling. "Uh-huh," she replied, before looking back to where Jason's father was now introducing Darren to his immediate superior, Commander Chris Rivers, the starbase's chief tactical officer and head of security.
"Welcome to Chimera, Lt. Commander." As was his usual manner, Rivers was rather stony-faced and sombre. He didn't offer his hand, either. Instead just fixing a cold stare at his new deputy. Jason just about made out the brief flicker of doubt that crossed Darren's face. Poor guy. Chris isn't exactly the easiest person to talk to. "We're in for a full day of it and I want you taking lead on it."
"On what, sir?" Darren asked, leaving Jason impressed with how calm and collected he sounded, despite facing down his supervisor’s gloomy and dire expression.
Rivers replied with a sour look, "We have a contingent of high-ranking officers from Starfleet Command on their way for a meeting with representatives from the Rigellian Trade Commission. So, as you can expect, security will need stepping up."
Larreka abruptly scoffed, stepping forward with a determined stride, "Oh for Erebus's sake, you're doing it all wrong, Chris!"
Jason couldn't suppress a smirk, or the amused snort he made, as the Romulan continued, "At least let him meet everyone first. The last thing the poor lamb needs is for you to scare the living daylights out of him on his first day." She locked eyes with the irritated Rivers. Even before the tactical officer broke and looked away first, Jason had known who the victor would be. No-one could face down Larreka for long.
With a gleeful smile, Larreka turned to face Darren, offering her hand politely, introducing herself with a casual air. "It's a pleasure to met you, Mr. Tel."
Before Darren had a chance to reply, Larreka then swung an affectionate arm around Darren's shoulders. Jason couldn't help but grin at the wide-eyed surprise in the young man's features. "Now, since you've met our Exec, his dashing son and our sour-puss chief of security," she drawled, "let me introduce the rest of this motley bunch."
Jason watched as Larreka then began pointing out the remaining senior officers standing around them, giving them each a succinct and very-Larreka-like intro. "The one in the bulky suit and helmet is N'Cara. She's our Intelligence Officer. She may look scary but trust me, she's a sweetheart."
The Breen officer's vocal synthesiser squeaked out an electronic protest, then was followed by a modulated but pleasant voice that even to this day, Jason would swear sounded almost like an old Earth Australian accent, "Thanks, Larreka... I think?"
Carrying on, Larreka then indicated the next individual, "The brooding man in black is Maruul, our Chief Engineer. No sense of humour, just like the esteemed Mr. Rivers, but he keeps this old place running, somehow. The younger gentleman with the shaggy hairstyle and beard is Sojen, our Ops Officer, without whom the Command Centre would fall into ruin."
She smiled slyly, "You’ll notice both have the same pointy ears as I." A playful wink at Sojen, "But whereas Maruul and myself are Romulan, sadly, Sojen is only a Vulcan."
The aforementioned Vulcan gave Larreka the classic 'raised eyebrow' in response, before offering a traditional salute to Darren, "Welcome to Rigel IV. Mr. Tel. While some of the base personnel are, as you can see, somewhat irreverent, we have made do."
“Indeed," Maruul dryly commented, his arms crossed against his broad chest, not looking amused in the slightest, "Our Science Officer also seems to believe she is our resident comic relief."
Larreka let out an disgruntled moan, "Oh, lighten up, Maruul!" She shook her head, "It's people like you that give all Romulans a bad name! Honestly, you're more of a stick-in-the-mud then our security chief!"
Rivers grunted noncommittally in reply. Maruul’s glower hardened even further at his fellow Romulan, but it was evident Larreka didn’t care one jot to either of their reactions. Jason had to work hard to keep his own amusement off his face, not wanting to either encourage the science officer or insult the two more serious men by reacting. While he may be a simple civilian now, Jason worked closely enough with the people in the Command Centre that it just made his life inordinately easier if he kept neutral and uninvolved in situations like this.
Instead, he just offered the barest hint of a smile at Larreka, before she continued to make the rounds with a wide-eyed Darren…
…which enabled Jason another chance to enjoy the view of the new arrival’s posterior.

* * *

As benefiting the size of a planet-based station with room to spare, the Infirmary of Starbase 134 was a sight to behold. While the equipment and layout may not have been on par with a Sovereign-class ship of the line like the Yamato, it was still impressive.
But as Darren took his place on the bio-bed on which he was to undergo the routine medical exam of any new transfers, it wasn’t only the infirmary itself that caught his attention.
The starbase’s Chief Medical Officer, Dr Allissa Mendlor, was conducting his exam. As he lay down and remained still while she ran the tricorder over him, before comparing its readouts to the overhead scanner array, Darren tried his best to hid his curiosity as he tried to recognize the doctor’s race. Something about the subtle, elegant cranial ridges kept bugging him.
He felt his face flush with embarrassment when Dr Mendlor fixed him with a wary look, her lips pursing, "You can just ask me, Lieutenant Commander, if you really want to know."
Darren couldn’t help himself, and she had given permission. "You’re Elaysian?"
"That’s what they tell me." Her response was tired and resigned. Darren realized with shame that this was obviously either a touchy subject, or one she had often tread with other people.
But the way she responded peaked Darren’s curiosity further, despite himself. Although he had trained primarily as an engineer back at the Academy, before moving into the command division as his career progressed, he had grown up with an archaeologist for a father. He had been taken to a dozen planets before his 10th birthday and had been exposed to so many new and exciting life-forms that xeno-anthropology had become a kind of hobby. He knew enough about Elaysians in general to notice the distinct lack of the exoskeleton support harness that they had to don in order to function in the gravity of planets not their own.
Still, he had no desire to pry any further, so kept his questions to himself. It’s never a good idea to piss off the person in charge of the hyposprays, as his dad had once told him. "Sorry, Doctor." He meant it too and hoped his sincerity was coming across, "I hope I didn’t offend you?"
The gruff smile, combined with the wry twinkle in her eyes, lifted Darren’s spirit’s a little. "No, Mr Tel," she replied gently. "But thank you for the apology."
She tapped a final sequence into the tricorder, "Suffice to say, I have a long and involved history, but it’s not one I share easily."
Believe me, I get that. Darren mentally shook away the errant thought. Now was not the time to go down that particular dark memory lane. He focused back on the here and now as Allissa concluded, "Your physical is done with. Everything is just as it was with your last on the Yamato, but it’s always good to have a more present base-line."
He offered thanks before slipping off the bed. He was immensely glad to be out of range of any medical scanners as the doors opened to admit Jason Bush. If he hadn’t, they would have easily picked up the jump in his heart-rate at seeing the son of the station’s Executive Officer. Calm down, you moron! You cannot fall for the boss’s son on your -first day!
Still, when Jason smiled at him, Darren felt butterflies in his stomach, "You good to go?"
He nodded, desperately trying to act cool and nonchalant. "Sure. Why?"
Jason’s smile grew impish, "Because, as your unofficial guide to all things Starbase Chimera, I think it’s time I help you explore more the sights my dad showed you yesterday."
As much fun as that sounded, Darren knew it wouldn’t be happening, “I would like that, but I think Commander Rivers has other plans.” He indicated the PADD that he’d brought with him to the Infirmary, as given to him by Rivers earlier, before he’d been summoned by Dr Mendlor. “He’s given a list of jobs he wants me to get dealt with before we have to play host to Admiral Jellico.”
Jason’s smile dimmed just enough that Darren hated himself for ruining the moment. He shrugged casually, “Sure, I understand. But feel free to give me a comm when you’re off-duty.”
This time Darren grinned with delight, “Count on it.”

* * *

“What we’ve got here,” Morgan Bateson stated in as blunt a manner as he knew his officers were accustomed, “is the potential for a shit-show of a pissing contest.”
As always, Gabe’s grin matched Bateson’s own, while Chris Rivers remained as dour and implacable as always. In the sanctum of his office, Bateson knew he could talk and comment in a way rather unbefitting a man of his rank, age and station, behaviour that would not be acceptable in front of the crew.
His and Gabe’s friendship stretched back years, decades - hell, even centuries, really. While he hadn’t known Chris as long, though, he still felt comfortable enough with the man, whose career he’d been at the beginning of. Whose career he had worked to pull out of the gutter it had almost ended in a few years previous.
Less of that, Morgan, he chided himself. Focus on the nest of vipers coming your way.
“Admirals Jellico, Sitak and Graasch will be beaming down from the Yamato in a few hours,” he explained, “and they have still not deigned me to be briefed on just what the hell they’re here for.”
Bush grunted, “That sounds like Jellico, all right. Keeping us hanging as long as he can.”
Rivers didn’t seem convinced, “Maybe. Do you have any clues or ideas, Captain?”
Bateson pondered the question. It wasn’t every day that three of the most senior flag officers of the Federation Starfleet paid a house call. That the C-in-C insisted on attending the meeting via holo-comm. Had his actions sparked this outcome? “I’m not certain, Chris, but it could be the proposal I submitted to Starfleet Command a few weeks ago. One I’ve been working with Minister Hessik with to approach the Governing Board with when I get approval from the brass.” Or if, he admitted privately.
Seeing this curious looks of his two trusted officers, Bateson continued, “There are still so many displaced refugees from what we went through with the Iconians, then the damned Borg attacks. Refugees who need a place to call home.”
“The Rigel system has plenty of space to spare,” he reminded them. “Dozens of class-L or class-M moons around Rigel VIII alone. So why not put it to use? With a little work, a little love and support, people could make themselves a permanent home here.”
“You really think they’ll go for that?” Rivers made no effort to hide his doubt and disbelief. Bateson couldn’t blame him, either. It was a big plan, but it wasn’t he’d suggested lightly.
“The Rigel system may have left the Federation,” he pointed out, “but they’re still allies with us. They still have shipbuilding and reconstruction contracts with Starfleet. They didn’t argue about us staying on here, either. They’re not the enemy, Chris.”
Rivers scoffed, “No, not the Rigellians, Captain. I mean Starfleet and the Federation.” His face twisted with disgust, “Remember, it wasn’t that long ago they abandoned Picard’s ‘Grand Plan’ to save the Romulans. What makes this different?”
“Because we’re not Admiral Picard,” Bateson stated, pointedly emphasizing the retired and venerated officer’s former rank. “Neither are we the same organization. We’ve learned our lesson after everything that happened back then.”
Though, he conceded Rivers had a point. But the optimist in Bateson, the spark of hope that had allowed him to rebuild his life in a new century and help all of his displaced crew from the Starship Bozeman, won out. “But if they need reminding, that’s what we’re going to do.”
“Because if we don’t, then we’ll just make those same mistakes all over again.”

* * *

This is becoming the “Day One From Hell“…
After hours of jumping through the numerous and various hoops that had been provided by Commander Rivers, Darren was finally off-shift and taking a well deserved rest break to catch his breath and grab a needed meal.
Not having had the chance to eat at all during his hectic schedule, he’d been ravenous by the time he’d got to the replicator. Now, as he pulled his meal from the slot, his tray fully loaded, Darren abruptly realized that the Mess Area he’d found himself nearest to was actually rather busy. There were a few solo tables he could sequester himself, but he hated the idea of eating alone in a room full of people - talk about socially-awkward. But, balancing that, he loathed the idea of forcing himself into a random group of diners.
Thankfully, a playful whistle and a waving hand ended his deliberations. Darren smiled as he recognized Jason Bush, seated by himself at one of the smaller tables. He made his way over, not too quickly mind, but still hoping to come off as ’casual’ and not ’desperate for salvation’ as he felt.
“Hungry?” Jason eyed the plate of food Darren placed down on the table top with amusement. “I take it Commander Rivers is running you ragged?”
“Something like that, yeah.” Mindful of his company, Darren took his time eating, not wanting to look like a glutton any more then his sizeable meal already painted him as. “Is he always like that?”
Jason offered a pained smile, “Chris is a complicated guy. If you buckle down and keep at it, though, he does lighten up.” He grimaced, “A little, anyway.”
“Complicated how?”
It was like the floodgates had opened. It was all the invitation Jason had needed. Over the course of the next hour, Darren’s hunger was finally abated, while his curiosity about the people he was now working alongside was only partially sated. Jason was insightful, direct but also compassionate and honest in his guide to the “who’s who” of Starbase 134.
Eventually, much to Darren’s pleasure, the subject came around to Jason himself. “I grew up on starships,” he explained. “A Starfleet Brat, that was me. After my mom died, that was when I met Dad for the first time, properly. It wasn’t so different then my life with Mom, either.”
He then regaled Darren with the story of his all-too-brief Starfleet career. “It was a mistake from the beginning. Nothing against Starfleet, I mean, I did grow up surrounded by the service, but it wasn’t for me. I never went to the Academy, I graduated from Mars University with two phD’s.“
It charmed Darren immediately how it said it so matter-of-factly, without any hint of pride or arrogance. He was enraptured by the story as Jason continued, “But Starfleet approached me, offered me a commission straight to the rank of full lieutenant and asked me in to join a think-tank on starship design.”
His handsome face took on a sombre look, “But it wasn’t the career I wanted. Sure, I loved the work, even got promoted to lieutenant commander based on my input, but I couldn’t take all the regulations and bureaucracy that a Starfleet group had around it. I just felt so stifled.”
“So when the Advanced Starship Design Bureau offered me a civilian job, rather then loose me completely, that was when I resigned my commission.” He then smiled somewhat devilishly, “I even convinced them to let me set up shop here once the captain and Dad took the assignment here. They tried to call me back when Rigel left the Federation, but I straight up refused.”
“Well, that’s my story.” Darren’s heart plummeted when Jason looked at him quizzically, “What about yours?”
Come on, Darren, you knew this would come out eventually. He tried to act nonchalant as he played with the remains of his food. “I, uh, would have thought you already knew the basics.” He tried to soften the overall harshness of his words with a smile, “I mean, considering how well informed you are about everyone else.”
“I’m a Tel. That’s a pretty well-recognized name. My grandmother was Admiral Helena Tel. She died before I was even born, but I heard all about her growing up, as you can imagine.” He still felt pride at being related to a Starfleet hero. She may not have been a Kirk, Picard or one of the ‘legends’, but she was still iconic in her own way.
“But most people immediately think of the ‘Grave Robber’ Russell Tel when they hear the name now,” he admitted with regret and shame. “Aside from the name, we’re nothing really alike.” When was the last time he and Father had even spoken? Darren couldn’t remember. “We don’t exactly have the relationship you and Commander Bush have.”
Jason’s frown and curious eyes asked the question without speaking. After a moment to ready himself, Darren decided he’d already opened the door, so there was no point closing it now. “He was not very accepting when he found out that, when it comes to romantic relationships, I prefer to exclusively date other men.”
Jason’s face was a picture of shock and disdain, “Are you telling me that your father was homophobic?” He scoffed in disgust, “Does he realize it’s the 25th freaking century? How can a man who digs up alien cultures be so parochial?!”
Darren remained silent, although he was immensely gratified how Jason immediately seemed to condemn the elder Tel for his outdated attitudes. After being rejected by his father, and enough said about his mother, it had taken a long time for Darren to finally be comfortable again with his sexual identity.
But Jason’s next words took Darren’s breath away, “My Dad didn’t even bat an eye-lid when I came home with my first boyfriend.” Jason actually giggled, “Although, to be fair, I think I did it mostly to get a reaction out of him.”
Before Darren could articulate whatever reply his brain would have eventually come up with, his combadge chirped, interrupting the moment. [Rivers to Tel. Report to the Hanger Bay for away team assignment.]
He tapped the insignia on autopilot, “Tel here. Acknowledged.” It was only as he accepted Jason’s offer to show him the best way to get to the Hanger Bay that Darren realized he hadn’t even asked for any mission details.
I wonder what fun task the Chief is setting me up with now..?

* * *

It had been a while since Darren had been given the opportunity to take the helm of a vessel. His primary duties on the Yamato had been focused on more technical abilities, learning the ins and out of starship operations. But he’d kept his piloting skills up to date as often as he could.
When he’d reported to the Hanger Bay, situated underground and underneath the main concourse of the Chimera ‘campus’, his awe at the size of the facility had been extinguished rather quickly when Commander Rivers had explained his assignment.
I’m acting as a glorified chauffeur? After all the work I just put in over the last day making sure the base will pass an Admiral’s Inspection? He had not been impressed.
But then he’d laid eyes on the USS Shayaz, an Allegheny-class runabout he’d be using to conduct the mission. Then all disappointment had vanished. A growth of the older but still reliable Danube-class runabouts, the newer design took structural elements of the Defiant-class escorts. These newest batch had come directly from the Rigel VI Shuttle Integration Facility before it had closed its doors for the final time.
As he took the shuttle out of the atmosphere of Rigel IV, Darren snuck a quick look over his shoulder at his travel companions. Larreka stood over Sojen’s shoulder at an ancillary console on the portside of the cockpit. Both studying what looked like an assortment of planetary survey data, at least that’s what it appeared to be to Darren.
It made sense. The mission was put in motion because of some unusual readings picked up by a probe conducting scans of the moons of Rigel VIII. Or, as Commander Rivers had called it, ‘weird’. The moons were part of some plan that Captain Bateson was putting together, which Rivers had not explained further on.
Darren focused on his instrument readings as he laid in the course and set them off at full impulse. Larreka slipped into the co-pilot seat next to him, offering him a brief smile. It still took some getting used to - a smiling Romulan. Sure, they were not as stoic or unemotional as their Vulcan cousins, but the few Romulans Darren had served alongside, either as part of Starfleet proper, or exchange officers like Larreka and Maruul, had always been reserved and distant.
Not Larreka. According to Jason, she had a wicked sense of humour, which he had glimpsed at the morning briefing and her introductions. Whereas Maruul acted as Darren had come to expect of Romulans, Larreka seemed to delight in being contrary. That was part of the reason she wore a Starfleet uniform, but with her Romulan rank insignia, not the traditional uniform of the Imperial Fleet.
“In case you’re wondering,” Larreka suddenly announced, interrupting Darren’s train of through, “I requested you as our pilot.”
She tossed a quick look over her shoulder at Lieutenant Sojen, “My young friend and I are both more then capable of flying this tub, but we also have a lot of work to do with checking the probe’s readings. So, I wanted someone else along, who can watch the controls and keep us from flying into anything.”
With a twinkle in her eye, Larreka then winked at Darren, “Plus, I wanted you to know that we do also do some science and exploration out here. It’s not all bureaucracy and meetings. Visiting Admirals and whatnot.”
“Good to know, ma’am.”
The Romulan woman cringed, clutching at her chest dramatically, “Oh please! Never call me that again! I may be close to twice your age, Darren, but I’m not a ‘ma’am’, just yet.” She fixed him with a mock-serious look, “None of that ‘Lieutenant Colonel’ malarkey, either. Just call me Larreka.”
She then offered a sympathetic look, “By the way, don’t worry about all your hard work getting everything up to snuff going unrecognized. Chris Rivers may be uptight, cranky and in serious need of a sense of humour, but he would never take credit for someone else’s work.”
While he took some comfort in Larreka’s words, Darren was also a little mortified she was that easily able to read him. Am I that transparent? I really need to work on my poker face…

* * *

“Commander Bush?”
The conversation Gabe Bush was having with Chris Rivers was interrupted by the voice of Lieutenant Neiman, the Ops Centre supervisor. Looking over, Bush saw her standing and over the shoulder of Ensign Nagel, the current shift’s communications officer, “What is it, Lieutenant?”
The young woman, a native of Alpha Centauri, looked at him wide-eyed, “Sir, the transporter complex just signalled to let us know that Admiral Jellico and his entourage have just beamed down.”
“What the Hell?” Chris Rivers sentiment match Bush’s own. The security chief looked at Bush incredulously, “They’re not due to be here for another two hours.”
Leave it to Admiral Get-It-Done to jump the gun for some reason, Bush privately griped. He held his tongue, though. Whatever his personal feelings for Jellico, his rank and position deserved the appearance of respect. “Maybe there’s been a change in whatever plans they have that brought them here in the first place?”
Rivers scowled, but any response was curtailed as the doors to the Ops Centre opened. The tall form of Edward Jellico, decked out in full admiral’s uniform, complete with four boxed pips, strode in. Following closely behind was a female Vulcan, Admiral S’Tira, and a Tellarite man, Admiral Graasch, dressed up just as much as Jellico.
The trio strode forward as one, heading directly for stairs that led up to the captain’s ready room. Bush made his way to intercept them. He’d faced down Klingons, Borg and plenty of other threats. He could handle these three. “Admirals, welcome to Starbase 134.” He put on his most charming smile, “We weren’t expecting you until 1900 hours.”
Jellico glared at him with icy-blue eyes. “Circumstances changed, Commander. We need to see Bateson now.”
It didn’t slip Bush’s notice that Jellico oh-so-deliberately avoided using Bateson’s rank. Thanks to the quirks of time-travel, technically Bush and Bateson both had longer service history then either of the three admirals. To not even use the man’s rank was a clear sign of disrespect in Bush’s book.
It seemed Rivers had the same though, as he stepped up behind Bush, “Captain Bateson is currently in a meeting.”
The senior admiral’s glare slowly morphed into an open sneer of disgust at the officer addressing him. “I was addressing the station’s Executive Officer. Not the man they laughably call their chief of security.” Jellico glowered even more, “What Bateson was thinking when he recruited you, I’ll never understand. Hell, if I’d been running your court-martial, I’d have thrown you out of the service altogether.”
Before Rivers could respond in any way that would further provoke the Admiral, Bush interposed himself, physically and verbally, between the two. “Admiral, our recruitment practices aside, Commander Rivers is an officer under my command. I would ask you refrain from inflammatory comments, especially since my officer is correct. The station’s commander is indeed in a meeting.”
Jellico’s belligerent glare refocused on Bush. He saw the look in those eyes. This was not a man used to having anyone stand up to him. But Bush was not intimidated in the slightest. He’d faced many a playground bully in his years. Jellico was just one more.
The cool and calm voice of the Vulcan S’Tira interjected, “Our sudden arrival is not a slight, Commander Bush.” She stepped up next to Jellico, “Rather an indicator that the subject of our meeting can no longer wait, due to the need for the Yamato to leave earlier then expected.”
“Understood, Admiral,” Bush replied smoothly, appreciating the glimpse of clarity as well as her attempt to ease the tension. “I’ll let the captain know.”
“That won’t be necessary.” With having gotten the last word, Jellico moved past Bush, heading up the stairs with his companions following. There was no point even trying to warn Morgan - they’d be at his door in no time.
Instead, he looked to Rivers. He caught a brief flash of the hurt the younger man must have been nursing from Jellico’s harsh words. “You okay, Chris?”
River remained dour-faced, “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before, Gabe.” He crossed his arms, setting his shoulders a little higher with whatever pride he still carried. “Besides, I couldn’t care less what that asshole thinks.”
Then, he cracked a small, wry smile, “I already have enough guilt and self-loathing to deal with.”
With that, Rivers about-faced and headed off to check his array of security consoles, leaving Bush to watch him go sadly. Leaving it be for the moment, Bush looked back up at the captain’s office as the doors closed behind the three admirals.
Good luck, Morgan. You’re going to need it.

* * *

Morgan Bateson valued the skills and abilities of all his crew. He had brought this group together and made a ragtag family of sorts. It was an action he took pride in, keeping in with the spirit of the first commander of this very Starbase.
But he still couldn’t quite get used to the sight of his Intelligence Officer.
As he listened to Lieutenant N’Cara’s report, as she succinctly went over the details outlined in the PADD she’d already given him, it continuously struck Bateson how she was a shining example of what the Federation strove for.
A Breen, N’Cara wore an all-encompassing environmental suit, with her specially-designed Starfleet uniform worn over it. One of only a handful of Breen officers in the service. An idea many would have thought ridiculous, given how until very recently, the Breen had been an active threat against the Federation. N’Cara was of a group that had distanced themselves from the Confederacy, having grown up in Federation space.
It made the report she was finishing up all the more difficult for her to deliver, but with her vocoder’s amusingly-programmed Australian accent, she did it was grace. “It seems that whatever alliance there was between the Gorn Hegemony and the Breen Confederacy has fractured.”
Reminds me of the brief arrangement between the Klingons and the Romulans back in the 2360s, Bateson considered. He remained silent as N’Cara continued, “Breen ships have started to make aggressive moves into Tholian-held territory, which has resulted in ships under Starfleet and civilian control getting caught in the crossfire. Fighting has even spilled over into Talarian space.”
Bateson grimaced. As much as he knew his place was at Chimera, he sometimes missed commanding a ship of the line. He’d been without a ship for over six years now. These kind of reports, fleet updates about far distant areas of the Federation, really brought home the idea that he was stationary, that he couldn’t just fly off to the rescue as quickly as he once had.
As N’Cara continued, Bateson abruptly became aware of the approach of three figures towards his office entrance. He did a double-take when he realized just who they were as the door chime sounded. He slowly stood as the doors opened to allow Admiral Jellico and his entourage to enter. “Admiral Jellico, Admiral S’Tira, Admiral Graasch, I wasn’t expecting you for a few more hours.”
Instead of answering, Jellico looked to N’Cara, who was now clutching her PADD to her chest, “You’re dismissed, Lieutenant.”
Bateson clenched his jaw. He should have expected such a breach of protocol from a man like him. Nominally, it should be Bateson himself who dismissed the junior officer directly under his command. That was why N’Cara tilted her helmeted head towards him for permission. He gave a simple nod in reply.
As the Breen officer vacated the room, the intercom chirped, [Captain, we’ve an incoming holo-transmission from Starfleet Headquarters.]
The final player in whatever this damn meeting is about, Bateson realized as he answered his executive officer, “Pipe it through, Gabe.”
Thanks to the built-on holographic projectors, the lithe and silver-haired form of Fleet Admiral Kirsten Clancy shimmered into being. The sharpness of the transmission showed Bateson that the Commanding Officer of Starfleet had earned a few more worry-lines and wrinkles in the few years since he had last seen her.
With little preamble, Clancy began. “Captain, Admirals. Are we ready to get down to business?”
“I believe so, Admiral,” Bateson replied before Jellico to try to assert control once again. “If you’d like to each take a seat, we can begin by reminding ourselves about the details of my proposal.”
“Morgan.” Something in Clancy’s tone made Bateson pull back from offering the PADDs he thankfully had already prepared and had on hand. He then saw the conflicted expression on her handsome face. “I think you might have misunderstood what this meeting is about.”
Enough of these damn games! More then a little aggravated, Bateson forced himself to reply calmly, “With respect, ma’am, I have no clue what this meeting is about, since no one had chosen to inform me. I was assuming…” No, be honest, Morgan. “Actually, I was hoping it was about the proposal I submitted to HQ.”
Clancy speared Jellico with an angry glare. The man didn’t seem to pay it any heed. Instead, he looked to Bateson himself. A disturbingly wolfish grin took form as he spoke, “What this meeting is about is quite simple, Captain Bateson.”
“We’re here to decide if the time has come to finally shut down and decommission Starbase Chimera.”

To Be Continued…

“Day One”
Written By Alex Matthews

Star Trek: Chimera
Created by Jonathan Crosby-Bromley

Based on 'Star Trek'
created by Gene Roddenberry

"Star Trek and all related marks, logos and characters are solely owned by CBS Studios Inc. This fan fiction is not endorsed by, sponsored by, nor affiliated with CBS, Paramount Pictures, or any other Star Trek franchise, and is a non-commercial fan-made film intended for recreational use. No commercial exhibition or distribution is permitted. No alleged independent rights will be asserted against CBS or Paramount Pictures."

Copyright (c) 2021

Produced by Sojournerverse Productions

Description
Star Trek: Chimera
Season One - Episode: "Day One"

2401 - Stardate: 78312.5
The Beta Rigel star system. Home to fourteen planets that orbit Rigel-A, the primary star, and billions of life-forms of multiple species, including the indigenous Zami, Chelon and Jelna. In the centuries since they discovered their place in the wider galaxy as a whole, it has also welcomed those from other worlds to call it 'home', including humans and many other members of the United Federation of Planets.
For over two hundred years, the United Rigel Worlds and Colonies and Federation have been friends and allies, but now that relationship has fractured and broken down. Thanks to the meddling of the long-thought-dead species, the Iconians, the so-called 'Demons of Air and Darkness'.
In 2399, 197 years since the citizens of Rigel voted to join as a full-fledged member state, that alliance ended with the Rigel system seceeding from the Federation...
...except for one planet. Rigel IV.
Home to many Federation citizens spread across the four small continents the fourth planet has. This includes the native 'Hill People', a tribe of nomadic Zami who have rejected many of the trappings of modern society and embrace the ways of their ancestors. Thousands more have made lives for themselves in the small but grand cities doted across the planet, such as Vanir, Gorar, Thursvyl and Kodesh.
The people who call Rigel IV home still believe in the message and work of the Federation, leaving them to stand apart from the other members of the United Rigel Worlds. Instead, they remain as part of the Federation, hoping to act as a bridge for the time when the other planets of the Rigel system decide to rejoin.
Wedged closed to the Ranler Mountains, on the continent of Ahuma, stands Starbase 134. The final bastion of Starfleet's presence in the system in the two years since Rigel IV became the only planet in the system to remain as part of the Federation. Although the rest of the United Rigel Worlds may no longer be members of the Federation, there still exists many trade, commerce, ship-building and defence agreements between the powers.
And Darren Tel was about to call it home.
The twenty-seven-year-old newly promoted lieutenant commander stood in the forward observation gallery of the Sovereign-class Starship Yamato. Looking out at the planet below. He thinks back on the last four years of his career serving on the personal flagship of Admiral Edward Jellico. It's been an experience, to say the least.
But today is a new beginning. He grins with unabashed glee and excitement at the idea of his new post, that of Assistant Chief Security/Tactical Officer. Although he wouldn't be head of a department, his promotion and transfer orders had explained that he would be involved in all command level decisions and discussion. So, he knows this is no time to get complacent.
[Bridge to Commander Tel. The Starbase is ready for you, sir.]
The comm-call snapped Darren out of his quiet rumination. It was time to leave. He'd already said his goodbyes to the few friends he'd had on board. As an up-and-coming junior officer moving up on the command track, he'd had a pretty heavy work schedule. Besides, making friends had never really come easy to him.
But he was thankful for the all-round practical hands-on education, training and experience he'd received aboard the Yamato these past four years.
Now it was time for Darren Tel to start a new chapter in his life...

* * *

Outside the large Command Centre of Starbase 134, Commander Gabriel 'Gabe' Bush stands ready to welcome the newest member of their oddball family. He can't help but be taken aback a little by how young the new arrival looks to him. But Gabe, a man out of time, has been feeling the years a lot more of late, so he puts those initial impressions to the side. Better to let Lt. Commander Tel show him what he's capable of first, before making any conclusions.
With that in mind, Bush stepped forward and offered both his hand and his most charming smile, "Mr. Tel. Welcome to Starbase 134."
"Pleasure to be here, sir." Tel is surprisingly laid back, just about capable of concealing the butterflies fluttering around his stomach. It impresses Bush a little. Most new arrivals were overflowing with eagerness, but not this guy. His grip was also impressively firm as he took Bush's extended hand and pumped it with vigour.
As the young man adjusted his grip on his duffel and carryall, Bush stuck his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to the massive red-hued building behind him, "The Residential Block is right over there so let's get you settled first. Then we can get to the Chimera Nickel Tour afterwards."
As Bush leads the way, he can see the curiosity burning in Tel's eyes. He knows exactly what the young man is wondering. "You're wondering about the 'Chimera' bit, right?"
Bush then goes on to explain, enjoying playing the 'wise old man' role, "It comes from the early days of the base's dedication, back in the 2200s. See, some starbases don't just get numerical designations, they also a 'name', like Starbase Earhart or Yorktown. Although it's not in any official paperwork, Starbase 134 is also known by personnel stationed here as Starbase Chimera."
Tel's eyes were wide with wonder, as this is all new to him. Somewhat shyly, he admits to Bush, "But then I've only ever served on starships, so I guess it's not that much of a surprise."
Bush couldn't help but laugh a little, patting him on the shoulder in an almost avuncular manner. He points out that there are a few things about life on a planet-bound starbase he will have to get used to. But even only having met Tel mere minutes ago, Bush is confident he'll fit in easily enough. "Just make sure your sense of humour is functioning and you’re ready to roll up your sleeves when the going gets tough and you’ll do fine."

* * *

After the tour was done, having returned Tel to his apartment, an exhausted Gabe Bush was glad to call it quits. It wasn't so much playing tour-guide and babysitting that had tired him out, but rather the bombardment of follow-on questions. To say Darren Tel was inquisitive would be grossly underselling it. Not only that, but they'd been well thought out and built upon a general understanding of starbase operations and idiosyncracies.
Still, relieved to have been soothed by a sonic shower, happy he was out of uniform and into some much more looser-fitting clothes, Bush arrived to visit his son Jason, for their weekly father/son evening.
Stepping into his son Jason's abode, he smiled at some of the keepsakes dotted around. The older-model of combadge that had been in use during Jason's own brief tenure in Starfleet. Various sketches of starships, doodles and designs that had come to his brilliant mind. The degrees he'd earned both in college and postgrad. Bush is incredibly proud of his son, the genius, reminding him so much of his late mother.
As they sit down and eat, Jason only has one topic in mind - he wants to know all about the newest member of the Chimera family.
"You'll find out tomorrow for yourself," Bush teases, with a twinkle of delight in his eyes, "I mean, you'll be in the morning huddle, right?"
Jason shot him a mock-angry glare, but couldn't keep a smile off his face, "Come on, Dad. Give me something to go on with!"
With a soft chuckle, Bush tried to think how to summarise the intense young man he'd met earlier. "Well," he started, "He's driven, that's for sure. He survived serving under Admiral 'Get-It-Done' for four years, so bonus points for that." Thinking over the insightful questions that Tel had posed, it made Bush realize something, "You know, actually, in a lot of ways, you two are a lot alike."
"Really?" Jason couldn't help but be intrigued. It wasn't every day that they got anyone new transferring to Rigel IV.
"Oh, yeah," Bush confirmed, as he digs into his meal, his appetite getting the better of him. "I think you will like the guy."
Jason sat back, absently playing with his own meal. Guess we'll see tomorrow, he wondered.

* * *

Whoa... Even a day later, it's still takes my breath away.
His mouth agape in awe and respect, Darren Tel takes in the view of the Command Centre of Starbase 134. Or, as he was now trying to get used to, Starbase Chimera.
Darren knew of the rumours. That Starbase 134 was not exactly an ideal posting. That the base itself was a rundown, backwater outpost. He'd kept those kinds of thoughts to himself, though, as Bush had proudly given him the grand tour the day before. Any allusions and doubts he may have had were quickly dispelled by the Executive Officer's comprehensive walkabout.
But Darren was also aware that the building was an outdated design that had not received significant any real improvements since its commissioning. This was the second iteration, the first being built shortly after the collective Rigel worlds had joined the Federation. But this current assortment of buildings did not look like any Starfleet installation that Darren was familar with.
It had been commissioned and designed by a native Zami by the name of Dha'Za Diah, to replace the first base after it had been almost leveled during the Federation and Klingon war of the late 2250s. Several other parts had been added afterwards, like the dedicated Residential Block and the Advanced Starship Design Bureau Facility. Each maintaining the design principles and contours of the previous buildings, so they flowed and merged well together, instead of looking like some kind of patchwork assortment.
The sudden and abrupt noise from the engines of shuttlecraft passing near overhead broke Darren out of his momentary stupor. If I don't get a damn move on, I'm going to be late for my first day!
But as he made his way into the reception foyer, everything that Darren had spent the last few weeks studying up on, the schematics, floorplans and blueprints, all flew out of his head in an instant. As embarrassment threatened to overwhelm him, he realized he had no idea where to go!
As Darren tries to get his bearings, he is caught completely by surprise by Jason Tel who, seeing his lost look, tries to offer some help. Much to their mutual embarrassment, Darren let out a startled and high-pitched yelp, nearly jumping out of his skin. Jason, trying not to laugh, quickly offers an apology to the mortified Darren, who tries to act nonchalant. It was made even worse by the fact that he was immediately taken by how good-looking Jason is. He could have stared into those eyes for hours.
Jason offered a warm smile, completely oblivious to the fact that it made him appear even more attractive. Having already deduced who Darren is, he offers his hand and introduces himself, "I'm in charge of the Theoretical Propulsion division over at the ASDB Facility. I also act as a liaision with the command staff."
Darren is taken aback and more then a little impressed, since Jason looks only a little older then him, but he's running his own department with the Bureau. That's when the name hits him, "Wait a minute? Bush? As in...?"
Jason grinned cheekily, "Yeah, Commander Bush is my dad." His eyes twinkled with amusement, "Play your cards right, I can put in a good word for you."
Darren couldn't help but laugh, suprising himself a little. He wasn't normally this comfortable talking to a perfect stranger. But something about Jason just put him immediately at ease. Even his initial chagrin was a distant memory. In fact, both of them seem disappointed when their hand-shake finally ends.
Jason offers to lead Darren to where he needs to be, since it's the same place he himself is heading. As they walk off together, Jason's own curiosity gets the better of him, as he starts trying to get to know Darren. They discuss his service under Admiral Jellico, the learning experience it was and how different life on a starbase is compared to service on a starship.
Darren also has questions of his own, as he can't help but be a little curious about Bateson. The man is a legend, the idea of serving under him daunting, even after surviving Admiral Jellico. He had wanted to quiz Commander Bush, but it hadn't felt appropriate. Jason, though, as a civilian might be more willing, "Any pointers you can offer?"
"The captain’s a good man," Jason offered with utter sincerity. "Hell, in a way, he's been almost like a second father to me over the years." He points out that, technically, Bateson is one of the oldest serving captains in the fleet, "What Bateson doesn’t know isn’t worth knowing. He'd be an admiral if that was what he wanted." Jason lookedd back at Darren with an intensity that surprised them both. Rising to the defence of a man who'd been part of Jason's life for as long as he could remember, "If you've heard anything bad about him, my advice is to just ignore it. They're talking out their asses."
His gaze softened, his blue eyes almost like a mirror of Darren's own, "Can he be a hard-ass? Tough? Yeah, but it's only for the better of everyone around him."

* * *

Jason’s words bounced around Darren’s brain as he found himself under the close scrutiny and stern countenance of the esteemed Captain Morgan Bateson.
They stood in the somewhat cramped Station Commander’s office, just off the main floor of Central Ops. Through the double doors, there was a clear view of the main work area, split into various sections of consoles and responsibilities. In the centre of it all was a large conference table that acted as a holographic situation display for the senior officers when required.
But all Darren had eyes for at the moment was the intense gleam of Bateson’s foreboding glare as he sized up his newest officer. He felt a cold trickle of sweat make its way down his back, wondering just how long he was going to be before he withered under the captain’s gaze. Maybe he’s realizing he made a mistake in choosing me for the job..?
Darren’s growing doubts and concerns were quickly ended when Bateson broke into the biggest grin, his eyes glinting with amusement as he chuckled. "Sorry, Mr. Tel, I couldn’t keep up the ‘grouchy’ act any longer!"
He stepped around the desk and extended his hand, "Welcome to Starbase Chimera, son." He pumped Darren’s hand with vigour belaying his age, "Good to have you on our team."
"It’s an honour to be here, sir."
Bateson grinned with pride, "You bet it is, young man. We know the rumours and non-too-friendly comments that this old place gets. But it’s all bull. We’ve made something of this place and its mission." He clapped a supportive hand on the younger man’s shoulder, "Come on, I know you met a few of my senior officers, but let me introduce you to the rest."

* * *

As Darren spoke with the captain and Commander Bush, Jason studied the new arrival and latest member of the Chimera family intently. Paying close attention to just how snug his uniform fit him, especially the way that the pants fitted the younger man's posterior. He's got a nice ass...
"See something you like, Jason?"
The teasing yet snarky comment brought Jason up short. He quickly stood a little straighter and cleared his throat, more then a little self-conscious now, as the person who had spoken slinked up to him. "I don't know what you mean, Larreka."
The blonde haired Romulan, Chimera's chief science officer, shot him a dubious look, "Oh, please. You haven't taken your eyes off him you both walked in." She smiled coyly, her eyes twinkling just enough to make him realize how much she was enjoying tormenting him, "Has our newest recruit caught your fancy?"
Jason rolled his eyes at her playful comment. Larreka wasn’t your traditional Romulan. Although born and raised on Romulus, having served in the Imperial Star Navy, she had lived among humans since the destruction of her home-world. He'd once asked his father why it appeared she seemed so intent on being so unconventional for a Romulan. He had explained that while it may look that way, it was really just her way of coping with everything she'd lost. Of forgetting the horrors she'd witnessed when her home, family and children had been lost in the Supernova of 87.
He finally responded with equal humour, "It's not every day we get someone new joining our merry bunch of misfits and miscreants." He shrugged, trying to exude an air of nonchalance, "Just enjoying the novelty for as long as it lasts."
Her lips pursing, Larreka didn't seem to buy what he was selling. "Uh-huh," she replied, before looking back to where Jason's father was now introducing Darren to his immediate superior, Commander Chris Rivers, the starbase's chief tactical officer and head of security.
"Welcome to Chimera, Lt. Commander." As was his usual manner, Rivers was rather stony-faced and sombre. He didn't offer his hand, either. Instead just fixing a cold stare at his new deputy. Jason just about made out the brief flicker of doubt that crossed Darren's face. Poor guy. Chris isn't exactly the easiest person to talk to. "We're in for a full day of it and I want you taking lead on it."
"On what, sir?" Darren asked, leaving Jason impressed with how calm and collected he sounded, despite facing down his supervisor’s gloomy and dire expression.
Rivers replied with a sour look, "We have a contingent of high-ranking officers from Starfleet Command on their way for a meeting with representatives from the Rigellian Trade Commission. So, as you can expect, security will need stepping up."
Larreka abruptly scoffed, stepping forward with a determined stride, "Oh for Erebus's sake, you're doing it all wrong, Chris!"
Jason couldn't suppress a smirk, or the amused snort he made, as the Romulan continued, "At least let him meet everyone first. The last thing the poor lamb needs is for you to scare the living daylights out of him on his first day." She locked eyes with the irritated Rivers. Even before the tactical officer broke and looked away first, Jason had known who the victor would be. No-one could face down Larreka for long.
With a gleeful smile, Larreka turned to face Darren, offering her hand politely, introducing herself with a casual air. "It's a pleasure to met you, Mr. Tel."
Before Darren had a chance to reply, Larreka then swung an affectionate arm around Darren's shoulders. Jason couldn't help but grin at the wide-eyed surprise in the young man's features. "Now, since you've met our Exec, his dashing son and our sour-puss chief of security," she drawled, "let me introduce the rest of this motley bunch."
Jason watched as Larreka then began pointing out the remaining senior officers standing around them, giving them each a succinct and very-Larreka-like intro. "The one in the bulky suit and helmet is N'Cara. She's our Intelligence Officer. She may look scary but trust me, she's a sweetheart."
The Breen officer's vocal synthesiser squeaked out an electronic protest, then was followed by a modulated but pleasant voice that even to this day, Jason would swear sounded almost like an old Earth Australian accent, "Thanks, Larreka... I think?"
Carrying on, Larreka then indicated the next individual, "The brooding man in black is Maruul, our Chief Engineer. No sense of humour, just like the esteemed Mr. Rivers, but he keeps this old place running, somehow. The younger gentleman with the shaggy hairstyle and beard is Sojen, our Ops Officer, without whom the Command Centre would fall into ruin."
She smiled slyly, "You’ll notice both have the same pointy ears as I." A playful wink at Sojen, "But whereas Maruul and myself are Romulan, sadly, Sojen is only a Vulcan."
The aforementioned Vulcan gave Larreka the classic 'raised eyebrow' in response, before offering a traditional salute to Darren, "Welcome to Rigel IV. Mr. Tel. While some of the base personnel are, as you can see, somewhat irreverent, we have made do."
“Indeed," Maruul dryly commented, his arms crossed against his broad chest, not looking amused in the slightest, "Our Science Officer also seems to believe she is our resident comic relief."
Larreka let out an disgruntled moan, "Oh, lighten up, Maruul!" She shook her head, "It's people like you that give all Romulans a bad name! Honestly, you're more of a stick-in-the-mud then our security chief!"
Rivers grunted noncommittally in reply. Maruul’s glower hardened even further at his fellow Romulan, but it was evident Larreka didn’t care one jot to either of their reactions. Jason had to work hard to keep his own amusement off his face, not wanting to either encourage the science officer or insult the two more serious men by reacting. While he may be a simple civilian now, Jason worked closely enough with the people in the Command Centre that it just made his life inordinately easier if he kept neutral and uninvolved in situations like this.
Instead, he just offered the barest hint of a smile at Larreka, before she continued to make the rounds with a wide-eyed Darren…
…which enabled Jason another chance to enjoy the view of the new arrival’s posterior.

* * *

As benefiting the size of a planet-based station with room to spare, the Infirmary of Starbase 134 was a sight to behold. While the equipment and layout may not have been on par with a Sovereign-class ship of the line like the Yamato, it was still impressive.
But as Darren took his place on the bio-bed on which he was to undergo the routine medical exam of any new transfers, it wasn’t only the infirmary itself that caught his attention.
The starbase’s Chief Medical Officer, Dr Allissa Mendlor, was conducting his exam. As he lay down and remained still while she ran the tricorder over him, before comparing its readouts to the overhead scanner array, Darren tried his best to hid his curiosity as he tried to recognize the doctor’s race. Something about the subtle, elegant cranial ridges kept bugging him.
He felt his face flush with embarrassment when Dr Mendlor fixed him with a wary look, her lips pursing, "You can just ask me, Lieutenant Commander, if you really want to know."
Darren couldn’t help himself, and she had given permission. "You’re Elaysian?"
"That’s what they tell me." Her response was tired and resigned. Darren realized with shame that this was obviously either a touchy subject, or one she had often tread with other people.
But the way she responded peaked Darren’s curiosity further, despite himself. Although he had trained primarily as an engineer back at the Academy, before moving into the command division as his career progressed, he had grown up with an archaeologist for a father. He had been taken to a dozen planets before his 10th birthday and had been exposed to so many new and exciting life-forms that xeno-anthropology had become a kind of hobby. He knew enough about Elaysians in general to notice the distinct lack of the exoskeleton support harness that they had to don in order to function in the gravity of planets not their own.
Still, he had no desire to pry any further, so kept his questions to himself. It’s never a good idea to piss off the person in charge of the hyposprays, as his dad had once told him. "Sorry, Doctor." He meant it too and hoped his sincerity was coming across, "I hope I didn’t offend you?"
The gruff smile, combined with the wry twinkle in her eyes, lifted Darren’s spirit’s a little. "No, Mr Tel," she replied gently. "But thank you for the apology."
She tapped a final sequence into the tricorder, "Suffice to say, I have a long and involved history, but it’s not one I share easily."
Believe me, I get that. Darren mentally shook away the errant thought. Now was not the time to go down that particular dark memory lane. He focused back on the here and now as Allissa concluded, "Your physical is done with. Everything is just as it was with your last on the Yamato, but it’s always good to have a more present base-line."
He offered thanks before slipping off the bed. He was immensely glad to be out of range of any medical scanners as the doors opened to admit Jason Bush. If he hadn’t, they would have easily picked up the jump in his heart-rate at seeing the son of the station’s Executive Officer. Calm down, you moron! You cannot fall for the boss’s son on your -first day!
Still, when Jason smiled at him, Darren felt butterflies in his stomach, "You good to go?"
He nodded, desperately trying to act cool and nonchalant. "Sure. Why?"
Jason’s smile grew impish, "Because, as your unofficial guide to all things Starbase Chimera, I think it’s time I help you explore more the sights my dad showed you yesterday."
As much fun as that sounded, Darren knew it wouldn’t be happening, “I would like that, but I think Commander Rivers has other plans.” He indicated the PADD that he’d brought with him to the Infirmary, as given to him by Rivers earlier, before he’d been summoned by Dr Mendlor. “He’s given a list of jobs he wants me to get dealt with before we have to play host to Admiral Jellico.”
Jason’s smile dimmed just enough that Darren hated himself for ruining the moment. He shrugged casually, “Sure, I understand. But feel free to give me a comm when you’re off-duty.”
This time Darren grinned with delight, “Count on it.”

* * *

“What we’ve got here,” Morgan Bateson stated in as blunt a manner as he knew his officers were accustomed, “is the potential for a shit-show of a pissing contest.”
As always, Gabe’s grin matched Bateson’s own, while Chris Rivers remained as dour and implacable as always. In the sanctum of his office, Bateson knew he could talk and comment in a way rather unbefitting a man of his rank, age and station, behaviour that would not be acceptable in front of the crew.
His and Gabe’s friendship stretched back years, decades - hell, even centuries, really. While he hadn’t known Chris as long, though, he still felt comfortable enough with the man, whose career he’d been at the beginning of. Whose career he had worked to pull out of the gutter it had almost ended in a few years previous.
Less of that, Morgan, he chided himself. Focus on the nest of vipers coming your way.
“Admirals Jellico, Sitak and Graasch will be beaming down from the Yamato in a few hours,” he explained, “and they have still not deigned me to be briefed on just what the hell they’re here for.”
Bush grunted, “That sounds like Jellico, all right. Keeping us hanging as long as he can.”
Rivers didn’t seem convinced, “Maybe. Do you have any clues or ideas, Captain?”
Bateson pondered the question. It wasn’t every day that three of the most senior flag officers of the Federation Starfleet paid a house call. That the C-in-C insisted on attending the meeting via holo-comm. Had his actions sparked this outcome? “I’m not certain, Chris, but it could be the proposal I submitted to Starfleet Command a few weeks ago. One I’ve been working with Minister Hessik with to approach the Governing Board with when I get approval from the brass.” Or if, he admitted privately.
Seeing this curious looks of his two trusted officers, Bateson continued, “There are still so many displaced refugees from what we went through with the Iconians, then the damned Borg attacks. Refugees who need a place to call home.”
“The Rigel system has plenty of space to spare,” he reminded them. “Dozens of class-L or class-M moons around Rigel VIII alone. So why not put it to use? With a little work, a little love and support, people could make themselves a permanent home here.”
“You really think they’ll go for that?” Rivers made no effort to hide his doubt and disbelief. Bateson couldn’t blame him, either. It was a big plan, but it wasn’t he’d suggested lightly.
“The Rigel system may have left the Federation,” he pointed out, “but they’re still allies with us. They still have shipbuilding and reconstruction contracts with Starfleet. They didn’t argue about us staying on here, either. They’re not the enemy, Chris.”
Rivers scoffed, “No, not the Rigellians, Captain. I mean Starfleet and the Federation.” His face twisted with disgust, “Remember, it wasn’t that long ago they abandoned Picard’s ‘Grand Plan’ to save the Romulans. What makes this different?”
“Because we’re not Admiral Picard,” Bateson stated, pointedly emphasizing the retired and venerated officer’s former rank. “Neither are we the same organization. We’ve learned our lesson after everything that happened back then.”
Though, he conceded Rivers had a point. But the optimist in Bateson, the spark of hope that had allowed him to rebuild his life in a new century and help all of his displaced crew from the Starship Bozeman, won out. “But if they need reminding, that’s what we’re going to do.”
“Because if we don’t, then we’ll just make those same mistakes all over again.”

* * *

This is becoming the “Day One From Hell“…
After hours of jumping through the numerous and various hoops that had been provided by Commander Rivers, Darren was finally off-shift and taking a well deserved rest break to catch his breath and grab a needed meal.
Not having had the chance to eat at all during his hectic schedule, he’d been ravenous by the time he’d got to the replicator. Now, as he pulled his meal from the slot, his tray fully loaded, Darren abruptly realized that the Mess Area he’d found himself nearest to was actually rather busy. There were a few solo tables he could sequester himself, but he hated the idea of eating alone in a room full of people - talk about socially-awkward. But, balancing that, he loathed the idea of forcing himself into a random group of diners.
Thankfully, a playful whistle and a waving hand ended his deliberations. Darren smiled as he recognized Jason Bush, seated by himself at one of the smaller tables. He made his way over, not too quickly mind, but still hoping to come off as ’casual’ and not ’desperate for salvation’ as he felt.
“Hungry?” Jason eyed the plate of food Darren placed down on the table top with amusement. “I take it Commander Rivers is running you ragged?”
“Something like that, yeah.” Mindful of his company, Darren took his time eating, not wanting to look like a glutton any more then his sizeable meal already painted him as. “Is he always like that?”
Jason offered a pained smile, “Chris is a complicated guy. If you buckle down and keep at it, though, he does lighten up.” He grimaced, “A little, anyway.”
“Complicated how?”
It was like the floodgates had opened. It was all the invitation Jason had needed. Over the course of the next hour, Darren’s hunger was finally abated, while his curiosity about the people he was now working alongside was only partially sated. Jason was insightful, direct but also compassionate and honest in his guide to the “who’s who” of Starbase 134.
Eventually, much to Darren’s pleasure, the subject came around to Jason himself. “I grew up on starships,” he explained. “A Starfleet Brat, that was me. After my mom died, that was when I met Dad for the first time, properly. It wasn’t so different then my life with Mom, either.”
He then regaled Darren with the story of his all-too-brief Starfleet career. “It was a mistake from the beginning. Nothing against Starfleet, I mean, I did grow up surrounded by the service, but it wasn’t for me. I never went to the Academy, I graduated from Mars University with two phD’s.“
It charmed Darren immediately how it said it so matter-of-factly, without any hint of pride or arrogance. He was enraptured by the story as Jason continued, “But Starfleet approached me, offered me a commission straight to the rank of full lieutenant and asked me in to join a think-tank on starship design.”
His handsome face took on a sombre look, “But it wasn’t the career I wanted. Sure, I loved the work, even got promoted to lieutenant commander based on my input, but I couldn’t take all the regulations and bureaucracy that a Starfleet group had around it. I just felt so stifled.”
“So when the Advanced Starship Design Bureau offered me a civilian job, rather then loose me completely, that was when I resigned my commission.” He then smiled somewhat devilishly, “I even convinced them to let me set up shop here once the captain and Dad took the assignment here. They tried to call me back when Rigel left the Federation, but I straight up refused.”
“Well, that’s my story.” Darren’s heart plummeted when Jason looked at him quizzically, “What about yours?”
Come on, Darren, you knew this would come out eventually. He tried to act nonchalant as he played with the remains of his food. “I, uh, would have thought you already knew the basics.” He tried to soften the overall harshness of his words with a smile, “I mean, considering how well informed you are about everyone else.”
“I’m a Tel. That’s a pretty well-recognized name. My grandmother was Admiral Helena Tel. She died before I was even born, but I heard all about her growing up, as you can imagine.” He still felt pride at being related to a Starfleet hero. She may not have been a Kirk, Picard or one of the ‘legends’, but she was still iconic in her own way.
“But most people immediately think of the ‘Grave Robber’ Russell Tel when they hear the name now,” he admitted with regret and shame. “Aside from the name, we’re nothing really alike.” When was the last time he and Father had even spoken? Darren couldn’t remember. “We don’t exactly have the relationship you and Commander Bush have.”
Jason’s frown and curious eyes asked the question without speaking. After a moment to ready himself, Darren decided he’d already opened the door, so there was no point closing it now. “He was not very accepting when he found out that, when it comes to romantic relationships, I prefer to exclusively date other men.”
Jason’s face was a picture of shock and disdain, “Are you telling me that your father was homophobic?” He scoffed in disgust, “Does he realize it’s the 25th freaking century? How can a man who digs up alien cultures be so parochial?!”
Darren remained silent, although he was immensely gratified how Jason immediately seemed to condemn the elder Tel for his outdated attitudes. After being rejected by his father, and enough said about his mother, it had taken a long time for Darren to finally be comfortable again with his sexual identity.
But Jason’s next words took Darren’s breath away, “My Dad didn’t even bat an eye-lid when I came home with my first boyfriend.” Jason actually giggled, “Although, to be fair, I think I did it mostly to get a reaction out of him.”
Before Darren could articulate whatever reply his brain would have eventually come up with, his combadge chirped, interrupting the moment. [Rivers to Tel. Report to the Hanger Bay for away team assignment.]
He tapped the insignia on autopilot, “Tel here. Acknowledged.” It was only as he accepted Jason’s offer to show him the best way to get to the Hanger Bay that Darren realized he hadn’t even asked for any mission details.
I wonder what fun task the Chief is setting me up with now..?

* * *

It had been a while since Darren had been given the opportunity to take the helm of a vessel. His primary duties on the Yamato had been focused on more technical abilities, learning the ins and out of starship operations. But he’d kept his piloting skills up to date as often as he could.
When he’d reported to the Hanger Bay, situated underground and underneath the main concourse of the Chimera ‘campus’, his awe at the size of the facility had been extinguished rather quickly when Commander Rivers had explained his assignment.
I’m acting as a glorified chauffeur? After all the work I just put in over the last day making sure the base will pass an Admiral’s Inspection? He had not been impressed.
But then he’d laid eyes on the USS Shayaz, an Allegheny-class runabout he’d be using to conduct the mission. Then all disappointment had vanished. A growth of the older but still reliable Danube-class runabouts, the newer design took structural elements of the Defiant-class escorts. These newest batch had come directly from the Rigel VI Shuttle Integration Facility before it had closed its doors for the final time.
As he took the shuttle out of the atmosphere of Rigel IV, Darren snuck a quick look over his shoulder at his travel companions. Larreka stood over Sojen’s shoulder at an ancillary console on the portside of the cockpit. Both studying what looked like an assortment of planetary survey data, at least that’s what it appeared to be to Darren.
It made sense. The mission was put in motion because of some unusual readings picked up by a probe conducting scans of the moons of Rigel VIII. Or, as Commander Rivers had called it, ‘weird’. The moons were part of some plan that Captain Bateson was putting together, which Rivers had not explained further on.
Darren focused on his instrument readings as he laid in the course and set them off at full impulse. Larreka slipped into the co-pilot seat next to him, offering him a brief smile. It still took some getting used to - a smiling Romulan. Sure, they were not as stoic or unemotional as their Vulcan cousins, but the few Romulans Darren had served alongside, either as part of Starfleet proper, or exchange officers like Larreka and Maruul, had always been reserved and distant.
Not Larreka. According to Jason, she had a wicked sense of humour, which he had glimpsed at the morning briefing and her introductions. Whereas Maruul acted as Darren had come to expect of Romulans, Larreka seemed to delight in being contrary. That was part of the reason she wore a Starfleet uniform, but with her Romulan rank insignia, not the traditional uniform of the Imperial Fleet.
“In case you’re wondering,” Larreka suddenly announced, interrupting Darren’s train of through, “I requested you as our pilot.”
She tossed a quick look over her shoulder at Lieutenant Sojen, “My young friend and I are both more then capable of flying this tub, but we also have a lot of work to do with checking the probe’s readings. So, I wanted someone else along, who can watch the controls and keep us from flying into anything.”
With a twinkle in her eye, Larreka then winked at Darren, “Plus, I wanted you to know that we do also do some science and exploration out here. It’s not all bureaucracy and meetings. Visiting Admirals and whatnot.”
“Good to know, ma’am.”
The Romulan woman cringed, clutching at her chest dramatically, “Oh please! Never call me that again! I may be close to twice your age, Darren, but I’m not a ‘ma’am’, just yet.” She fixed him with a mock-serious look, “None of that ‘Lieutenant Colonel’ malarkey, either. Just call me Larreka.”
She then offered a sympathetic look, “By the way, don’t worry about all your hard work getting everything up to snuff going unrecognized. Chris Rivers may be uptight, cranky and in serious need of a sense of humour, but he would never take credit for someone else’s work.”
While he took some comfort in Larreka’s words, Darren was also a little mortified she was that easily able to read him. Am I that transparent? I really need to work on my poker face…

* * *

“Commander Bush?”
The conversation Gabe Bush was having with Chris Rivers was interrupted by the voice of Lieutenant Neiman, the Ops Centre supervisor. Looking over, Bush saw her standing and over the shoulder of Ensign Nagel, the current shift’s communications officer, “What is it, Lieutenant?”
The young woman, a native of Alpha Centauri, looked at him wide-eyed, “Sir, the transporter complex just signalled to let us know that Admiral Jellico and his entourage have just beamed down.”
“What the Hell?” Chris Rivers sentiment match Bush’s own. The security chief looked at Bush incredulously, “They’re not due to be here for another two hours.”
Leave it to Admiral Get-It-Done to jump the gun for some reason, Bush privately griped. He held his tongue, though. Whatever his personal feelings for Jellico, his rank and position deserved the appearance of respect. “Maybe there’s been a change in whatever plans they have that brought them here in the first place?”
Rivers scowled, but any response was curtailed as the doors to the Ops Centre opened. The tall form of Edward Jellico, decked out in full admiral’s uniform, complete with four boxed pips, strode in. Following closely behind was a female Vulcan, Admiral S’Tira, and a Tellarite man, Admiral Graasch, dressed up just as much as Jellico.
The trio strode forward as one, heading directly for stairs that led up to the captain’s ready room. Bush made his way to intercept them. He’d faced down Klingons, Borg and plenty of other threats. He could handle these three. “Admirals, welcome to Starbase 134.” He put on his most charming smile, “We weren’t expecting you until 1900 hours.”
Jellico glared at him with icy-blue eyes. “Circumstances changed, Commander. We need to see Bateson now.”
It didn’t slip Bush’s notice that Jellico oh-so-deliberately avoided using Bateson’s rank. Thanks to the quirks of time-travel, technically Bush and Bateson both had longer service history then either of the three admirals. To not even use the man’s rank was a clear sign of disrespect in Bush’s book.
It seemed Rivers had the same though, as he stepped up behind Bush, “Captain Bateson is currently in a meeting.”
The senior admiral’s glare slowly morphed into an open sneer of disgust at the officer addressing him. “I was addressing the station’s Executive Officer. Not the man they laughably call their chief of security.” Jellico glowered even more, “What Bateson was thinking when he recruited you, I’ll never understand. Hell, if I’d been running your court-martial, I’d have thrown you out of the service altogether.”
Before Rivers could respond in any way that would further provoke the Admiral, Bush interposed himself, physically and verbally, between the two. “Admiral, our recruitment practices aside, Commander Rivers is an officer under my command. I would ask you refrain from inflammatory comments, especially since my officer is correct. The station’s commander is indeed in a meeting.”
Jellico’s belligerent glare refocused on Bush. He saw the look in those eyes. This was not a man used to having anyone stand up to him. But Bush was not intimidated in the slightest. He’d faced many a playground bully in his years. Jellico was just one more.
The cool and calm voice of the Vulcan S’Tira interjected, “Our sudden arrival is not a slight, Commander Bush.” She stepped up next to Jellico, “Rather an indicator that the subject of our meeting can no longer wait, due to the need for the Yamato to leave earlier then expected.”
“Understood, Admiral,” Bush replied smoothly, appreciating the glimpse of clarity as well as her attempt to ease the tension. “I’ll let the captain know.”
“That won’t be necessary.” With having gotten the last word, Jellico moved past Bush, heading up the stairs with his companions following. There was no point even trying to warn Morgan - they’d be at his door in no time.
Instead, he looked to Rivers. He caught a brief flash of the hurt the younger man must have been nursing from Jellico’s harsh words. “You okay, Chris?”
River remained dour-faced, “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before, Gabe.” He crossed his arms, setting his shoulders a little higher with whatever pride he still carried. “Besides, I couldn’t care less what that asshole thinks.”
Then, he cracked a small, wry smile, “I already have enough guilt and self-loathing to deal with.”
With that, Rivers about-faced and headed off to check his array of security consoles, leaving Bush to watch him go sadly. Leaving it be for the moment, Bush looked back up at the captain’s office as the doors closed behind the three admirals.
Good luck, Morgan. You’re going to need it.

* * *

Morgan Bateson valued the skills and abilities of all his crew. He had brought this group together and made a ragtag family of sorts. It was an action he took pride in, keeping in with the spirit of the first commander of this very Starbase.
But he still couldn’t quite get used to the sight of his Intelligence Officer.
As he listened to Lieutenant N’Cara’s report, as she succinctly went over the details outlined in the PADD she’d already given him, it continuously struck Bateson how she was a shining example of what the Federation strove for.
A Breen, N’Cara wore an all-encompassing environmental suit, with her specially-designed Starfleet uniform worn over it. One of only a handful of Breen officers in the service. An idea many would have thought ridiculous, given how until very recently, the Breen had been an active threat against the Federation. N’Cara was of a group that had distanced themselves from the Confederacy, having grown up in Federation space.
It made the report she was finishing up all the more difficult for her to deliver, but with her vocoder’s amusingly-programmed Australian accent, she did it was grace. “It seems that whatever alliance there was between the Gorn Hegemony and the Breen Confederacy has fractured.”
Reminds me of the brief arrangement between the Klingons and the Romulans back in the 2360s, Bateson considered. He remained silent as N’Cara continued, “Breen ships have started to make aggressive moves into Tholian-held territory, which has resulted in ships under Starfleet and civilian control getting caught in the crossfire. Fighting has even spilled over into Talarian space.”
Bateson grimaced. As much as he knew his place was at Chimera, he sometimes missed commanding a ship of the line. He’d been without a ship for over six years now. These kind of reports, fleet updates about far distant areas of the Federation, really brought home the idea that he was stationary, that he couldn’t just fly off to the rescue as quickly as he once had.
As N’Cara continued, Bateson abruptly became aware of the approach of three figures towards his office entrance. He did a double-take when he realized just who they were as the door chime sounded. He slowly stood as the doors opened to allow Admiral Jellico and his entourage to enter. “Admiral Jellico, Admiral S’Tira, Admiral Graasch, I wasn’t expecting you for a few more hours.”
Instead of answering, Jellico looked to N’Cara, who was now clutching her PADD to her chest, “You’re dismissed, Lieutenant.”
Bateson clenched his jaw. He should have expected such a breach of protocol from a man like him. Nominally, it should be Bateson himself who dismissed the junior officer directly under his command. That was why N’Cara tilted her helmeted head towards him for permission. He gave a simple nod in reply.
As the Breen officer vacated the room, the intercom chirped, [Captain, we’ve an incoming holo-transmission from Starfleet Headquarters.]
The final player in whatever this damn meeting is about, Bateson realized as he answered his executive officer, “Pipe it through, Gabe.”
Thanks to the built-on holographic projectors, the lithe and silver-haired form of Fleet Admiral Kirsten Clancy shimmered into being. The sharpness of the transmission showed Bateson that the Commanding Officer of Starfleet had earned a few more worry-lines and wrinkles in the few years since he had last seen her.
With little preamble, Clancy began. “Captain, Admirals. Are we ready to get down to business?”
“I believe so, Admiral,” Bateson replied before Jellico to try to assert control once again. “If you’d like to each take a seat, we can begin by reminding ourselves about the details of my proposal.”
“Morgan.” Something in Clancy’s tone made Bateson pull back from offering the PADDs he thankfully had already prepared and had on hand. He then saw the conflicted expression on her handsome face. “I think you might have misunderstood what this meeting is about.”
Enough of these damn games! More then a little aggravated, Bateson forced himself to reply calmly, “With respect, ma’am, I have no clue what this meeting is about, since no one had chosen to inform me. I was assuming…” No, be honest, Morgan. “Actually, I was hoping it was about the proposal I submitted to HQ.”
Clancy speared Jellico with an angry glare. The man didn’t seem to pay it any heed. Instead, he looked to Bateson himself. A disturbingly wolfish grin took form as he spoke, “What this meeting is about is quite simple, Captain Bateson.”
“We’re here to decide if the time has come to finally shut down and decommission Starbase Chimera.”

To Be Continued…

“Day One”
Written By Alex Matthews

Star Trek: Chimera
Created by Jonathan Crosby-Bromley

Based on 'Star Trek'
created by Gene Roddenberry

"Star Trek and all related marks, logos and characters are solely owned by CBS Studios Inc. This fan fiction is not endorsed by, sponsored by, nor affiliated with CBS, Paramount Pictures, or any other Star Trek franchise, and is a non-commercial fan-made film intended for recreational use. No commercial exhibition or distribution is permitted. No alleged independent rights will be asserted against CBS or Paramount Pictures."

Copyright (c) 2021

Produced by Sojournerverse Productions