Diverging Destinies

Captain’s Log, Stardate 50456.2. Bugger. Bluidy buggerin’ bugger! Starfleet’s shafted us, just like I knew they would! It has been several months since our last bit o’ excitement, and I’d just about thought we’d got away wi’ it. But no. We’d only just got over t’ humiliation of Starfleet’s announcement of how t’ Enterprise crew heroically saved t’ day by makin’ sure history stayed on course. T’Enterprise! Bluidy cheek! Starfleet’s just too embarrassed to admit it was t’ Psycho crew that did t’ job.

“Anyway, back to my original point. I have just received a transmission, informin’ me that, due to the serious losses sustained in t’ last battle against t’ Borg, Starfleet regretfully has to inform me that various members o’ my senior crew are to be posted elsewhere, to fill the gaps. I suppose we’ve been lucky, really. I’m only losin’ two of my senior officers. Commander Hill is bein’ sent to t’ Memory Alpha central library planetoid, as Chief Computer Officer, and Lieutenant-Commander Wall, no, sorry, he’s Commander Wall now, God help us all, is to be transferred to t’ new Lobotomy as first officer. Scary. I can’t help but feel there might be more shifts in t’ pipeline. End log entry.”

Captain Olding sat back in his chair in the ready room, and looked at the portrait of the senior crew of the Psycho they had had taken on Throid IX when they got there after the battle with the Borg. It was pretty embarrassing, Olding had to admit. He had been forced to hold a model of the Psycho-A, while the rest of them clustered round him and gurned at the camera. But, now, it looked as if it would be the only memento he had of the original crew. Starfleet had won, at last. They’d been dying for years to break up the senior crew, and now they’d done it. Wall and Hill would, Olding realised, be missed. Even he would miss them.

The Psycho was on her way to meet the Lobotomy-A at Starbase 411 to drop off Wall and Hill. The Lobotomy, newly commissioned to replace the ship lost in the battle against the Borg, was one of the new Intrepid-class. Olding didn’t know a thing about her crew, and neither, he knew, did Wall. Which wasn’t the greatest start to a new job as first officer. Olding felt genuine pity for the Lobotomy‘s captain.

And as for the poor innocent researchers on Memory Alpha… Olding wondered whether the planetoid’s computers would stand up to the heavy duty fiddling Commander Hill was about to bring down on them. He was tempted to place a private call to Memory Alpha’s commander to warn her to get back-ups done of both the files and the operating system, just in case. Then, uncharacteristically, he thought, bugger it. Let ’em find out for themselves just what sort of men come from t’ Psycho. It’ll serve ’em right for nickin’ my men.

My men. Olding was still slightly shocked by the depth of affection he felt for the crew of the Psycho. It had crept up on him while he wasn’t looking, and now was an integral part of his life. The buggers can’t half grow on you, he thought. Still, he still had Damerell, Stark, Jackson, Bleep, Counsellor Hill, and all the nutters that crewed this ship to look after. But it wouldn’t be the same. Olding realised that he would have to find a replacement helmsman and first officer. Helmsman would be easy, just take a trip down to the shuttlebay and find the best pilot down there.

But the post of first officer would be more difficult to fill. Olding didn’t like the idea of bringing in someone from outside to fill the role. But he couldn’t quite see Damerell, the other (sort of) logical choice, doing too well in the role. Damerell’s tendency to pass out when overwhelmed by events/too much information/yesterday’s curry repeating on him wouldn’t fit too well with being first officer.

Counsellor Hill? A possibility, but she was already doing a lot, as looking after the crew’s mental health as well as being Security Officer was really two full-time jobs. She had just started wearing a striped undershirt in an attempt to reconcile her job clashes. Her uniform now had Mustard and Teal stripes, and, to Olding’s eyes, looked quite horrible. Perhaps that was the answer. If he promoted her to first officer, then promoted a junior security officer to fill the job of Security chief, and then he could find a counsellor elsewhere. Olding nodded to himself. That sounded better and better the more he thought about it. It would also force her to wear a slightly less hideous outfit.

His thoughts were interrupted by the call “Captain Olding to the bridge!” Olding hurried out onto the bridge to find the crew at alert. He could tell this because, although no sirens were sounding (Hill had inadvertently scrambled the alert program three days ago), the crew were at their classic alert poses. Wall was trying to hide by his console, anxiously protecting the new pip on his collar from enemy attack, while Damerell was unconscious on the floor, and Hill was standing legs apart and arms akimbo in the centre of the bridge.

“What’s happenin’?” Olding asked, as he made his way to the command chair.

“We’ve arrived at Starbase 411, Captain,” Hill said tensely.

“Oh.”

That explained it. Starbase 411 was where Hill would get a transport to Memory Alpha, and Wall would transfer to the Lobotomy. Olding crossed his legs and uncrossed them. If they were going to do this, they’d do it in style.

“Let’s get this over wi’. Mr Wall, take us ou’ o’ warp.”

The Psycho performed her standard massive deceleration, and Olding hung on to the handles he’d had specially welded to the sides of his chair to prevent him from being catapulted out of it.

“Right,” he said shakily, “Bring us around in an elliptical orbit o’ t’ station, gradually decreasin’ t’ diameter o’ t’ ellipse until we’re alongside.”

“What?”

“I want an egg-shaped course around t’ station that gets smaller and smaller until we are in close orbit.”

“Oh, right.” Wall glanced across at Damerell, who had just resumed his seat, and shrugged his shoulders.

“I saw that, Mr Wall!”

“Erm, sorry, sir.”

With no little difficulty, Wall set up the required course, and the Psycho glided along it at half-impulse, mustering as much majesty as she could manage. The bridge crew sat silently, watching the starbase slowly grow larger as they got closer, each one alone with his thoughts (with the exception of Wall, with whom the lack of cognitive ability meant he was just alone).

The silence was broken by the arrival of the counsellor and Stark on the bridge.

As they bustled out, Counsellor Hill said, “Why is everybody quiet? You haven’t been fighting again, have you? I warned you last time…”

She trailed off as she saw the Intrepid class starship in the viewer. She could clearly read the registry, USS Lobotomy, NCC-74666-A. She, too understood.

As the Psycho coasted to a halt, followed by the inevitable jerk as Wall stalled it, Bleep reported, “Bleep… wzrtfgl… Mind the gap… The commander of Starbase 411 is hailing us.”

“Put him on screen.”

Admiral Spencer appeared on screen. “Ah, Olding. So good of you to come. You are prepared to give up your crewmembers this time. We wouldn’t want there to be any unpleasantness.”

“Aye, Admiral. They’re just abou’ ready to disembark.”

“Good. Please disembark them as soon as you can. Command has a mission for the Psycho, and it can’t wait.”

“Right. They’re on their way.”

The viewscreen switched back to a view of the station.

“Well, this is it,” Olding said. “Mr Hill, Mr Wall, go and get your kit. We’ll meet you in t’ transporter room.”

Wall and Hill left the bridge, and Olding spoke to the rest of the bridge crew. “Come on. Let’s give ’em a good sendoff.”

The crew of the Psycho assembled in Transporter Room 3. As Wall and Hill deposited their kit on the pads, Olding shook their hands. Then he called, “Company, attention!” The Psycho crew came smartly to attention. Olding realised it was time for his speech.

“Over t’ past few years, you two have been valued members of this crew. We couldn’t have done t’ things we did wi’ ou’ you. It has been a pleasure to serve wi’ you.”

He found he couldn’t go on, as his voice was beginning to choke up.

Luckily, Hill knew what came next. “Permission to disembark?”

“Permission granted.”

Hill and Wall took their positions on the transporter pad, and Hill nodded to Stark, who nodded back. There was a loud sniffle from Damerell, and Counsellor Hill handed him a tissue. There then followed a few seconds of snorting noises as Damerell blew his nose, then a sharp crack, and an “Ow!” as the counsellor hit him to stop him from inspecting the contents of the hanky. Finally, the two commanders disappeared in the matter stream from the transporter, and were gone from the Psycho.

Olding hit the comms switch on the transporter console. “Starbase 411, do you have them?”

“We do indeed, Captain Olding. Now please proceed to the Betazed system. We have an important task for you, transporting a Betazoid ambassador and her staff.”

“Acknowledged. We’ll be on our way immediately.”

Slowly, the Psycho crew trooped back up to the bridge.

When they got there, it was to find Ensign Ingram sat at the helm console.

“What are you doin’ ‘ere?!!” Olding spluttered.

“I was told that you needed a helmsman, so I volunteered.”

“I see.” Olding spoke to the bridge at large, “Departure stations.”

The crew moved reluctantly back to their stations. “Bleep… wzrtfgl… Mind the gap… Starbase 411 confirms we are free to depart.”

“Thank you, Mr Bleep. Mr Wall, full impulse power.”

“It’s Ingram, actually, Captain.”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, it is, isn’t it. Well, get on wi’ it!!!!!”

The Psycho slipped smoothly away from Starbase 411, and entered warp.