From: rneces@mastnet.net (Lynnaea AelCaymarth)
Date: Mon, 14 Apr 1997 17:24:23 -0500 (CDT)
Subject: USS CHESAPEAKE:  Aftermath, Part I

SD 90414.2250 GMT
MD 05.1110
Scene:  SECCEN, during final Diagnostics runs before launch
____________________________________________________________

        Aelyria walked silently into the room with shoulders bent as if in
shame.  She was, in fact, very ashamed.  She had let her department down.
She had let Torr down.  He did not look at her, did not acknowledge her
presence.
        *And it may have cost me an aCSO.  It may have cost me far more than
even that.*
        Her staffers shot her covert looks from their workstations.  The
furtive glances were filled with a mixture of confusion and distrust.
        Padding on catfeet, her normally loud boots making no sound, Aelyria
made her way to her station.  
        *I've lost them.*  
        She perused the data flashing before her eyes.  The diagnostics, or
Gnostics, as the staff had playfully termed them, were actually running
smoothly, all systems checking out without a hitch.  Despite the hectic pace
of the last five days and the external distractions for the crew, they had
managed to do their jobs well.  The CSO still, it seemed, had a few remnants
to be proud of.  
        *I've failed.  I'm not fit to be an officer aboard this ship.*  
        What had happened to those easy SFA days, when she had known so
clearly what she wanted, and how to get it?  What happened to those
ambitions of captaincy, of power, money, prestige, status?  Where had they
gone?  How had she gotten so lost? 
        She sat for a long while, observing the systems checks as the quiet
clacking of keyboards surrounded her.  The thoughts intruded with clockwork
regularity, surfacing with each new green light on her console.
        *These men and women deserve better.*  
[One hour later.  (1215)]
        The last green light was on, all systems were go.  Gnostics had
uncovered no problems.  
        "Ensign Keyrin to Commander Brennan."  
        <> 
        "Diagnostics as promised in status report are complete.  No problems
detected.  Security ready for launch."  
        <> 
        "Keyrin out." 
        Aelyria massaged her cramped neck and stretched out.  The room had
emptied, the enlisteds leaving for other tasks; she was the only one who
remained.         
        Launch was less than two hours away.  She was Ensign Aelyria Keyrin,
Chief Security Officer, of a ship about to embark on its first mission.  As
such, she was responsible for the safety of the ship and her crew.  
        The responsibility was like a weight that crushed her, mind, body,
and spirit, and she sagged against a chair for support that was not
forthcoming.  It rolled out from under her hands and she barely managed to
catch her hands on a nearby console.  
The computer bleeped irritatedly at her inadvertent keyboard entries.  
        As a heartbreaking sense of emptiness cocooned her, she realized
that she could not continue like this.  
        She began to make her way to the bridge. 
[1400, Bridge]
        As she made her preparations at her station for the launch, her
stomach twisted and rolled in knots.  She was sure she'd forgotten
something.  She double-checked *everything.*   And double-checked it again.
She mentally reviewed her task list, but could not find it wanting.  
        When it all came down, Aelyria hated waiting with a vehement passion.
        And then, it was time.  The waiting had come to an end, and
everything proceeded with alarming rapidity as the FO gave the final orders.  
        "Flight Control, clear all moorings.  Thrusters at station-keeping."
        "Aye, sir," O'Graeach complied.  "Clearing all moorings.  
Thrusters at station-keeping."
        "Back us away from the station."
        Aelyria's grip tightened on the edge of her console, the knuckles
white with strain.
        "Flight Control, starboard thrusters, heading 198 Mark 32."
        A few moments later, Brennan looked to the Captain.
        "All clear, sir."
        She nodded.
        "Mr. O'Graeach," she said, "set a course for the primary Delta 
Corellis star system, heading 108 Mark 32."
        "Heading laid in, sir..."
        "Engage, warp 6."
        The stars fell behind as reality and time blurred to permit the USS
Chesapeake passage.  Lyrics from her childhood passed through Aelyria's mind... 
        "The stars, they dance upon our dreams
         While inside I come apart at the seams
         Never reaching through the distance
         So lost, I never took the chance..."

Respectfully submitted, 
Lynnaea AelCaymarth, aka
Ensign Aelyria Keyrin
CSO, USS CHESAPEAKE

      

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