Siren's Call

"Chief of Operations Officer's Log, Stardate 87694.1.

Once again, I am reminded by my captain that these logs must be verbally recorded and submitted in a timely fashion. On a Klingon vessel, this mundane task is reserved only for 'Logs of Battle' and not everyday occurrences.

Regardless of my personal tastes, I am still the Chief Operations Officer and must uphold the captain's rules, regardless of my personal feelings or how much time they waste to complete."

Eroga, Daughter of Drex, stood before the mirror in her personal quarters, adjusting her Klingon Officer's uniform. As the chief representative of the Klingon Empire aboard the diverse crew on the vessel, she wore her uniform proudly. Metallic silver lined vertically over the black leather armor. Her chocolate skin glistened across her Klingon forehead ridges, the telltale sign of her lineage, as she admired her long black, flowing, and curling hair.

"Continuing with the log," Eroga narrated, "The USS Nexus is headed to Cardassia Prime to engage in open talks with the Cardassian Union, with the goal of inducting Cardassia into the Khitomer Alliance. With a bloodied history with the Federation, Klingon Empire, and the Dominion, Cardassia has been reluctant to join the Khitomer Alliance until the Iconian Wars showed the galaxy what a united front against a common foe could accomplish. After said war was finally concluded, Cardassia agreed to begin talks of joining the Khitomer Alliance with the other factions at play in the galaxy."

Eroga paused to gaze at her Starfleet insignia communications badge. Typically, these small gold and silver badges were reserved only for Starfleet personnel on official Starfleet vessels. However, aboard the Nexus, with its curious and diverse crew, the tradition extended to all crew members. As the Chief Operations Officer, it fell to her to ensure that each newcomer received their "Comm Badge" upon arrival, integrating them into the ship's communications network and systems.

"Chief Operations Officer..." She chuckled at her reflection in the mirror. "What would Grandmother Sirella think of me now?" Adjusting her boots and gloves, she continued, "'Unfit to govern the operations of the House of Martok,' but now the Chief Operations Officer of the Flagship of the Khitomer Alliance." She muttered to herself while tightening her belts and chest sash. "'UNFIT to govern the House of Martok,' but currently in charge of the everyday happenings of a crew of over 5,000."

Her self-musings were interrupted by a small chiming alarm on her bedside table. "And 07:58 hours, time to go," she mused as she left her personal quarters, heading to her post on the bridge to start the day.

—

A flash of white and Eroga materialized on the bridge of the USS Nexus, her eyes scanning the empty Operations station. It wasn't uncommon for this post to remain unmanned during the night shift; after all, most day-to-day operations were typically handled during the day. Any urgent matters arising during weekends or night shifts were usually delegated to Engineering or deferred until the next day.

As the Chief Operations Officer,, she was often tasked with approving or denying requisition forms that couldn't be handled by individual department heads. With a crew of over 5,000, it was no surprise that each morning greeted her with a substantial stack of paperwork awaiting my attention.

"Good morning, everyone!" Captain Anzyl's cheerful voice echoed through the bridge as he materialized for the day.

"Captain on the Bridge!" she announced, a customary gesture that signaled the start of their daily routine.

Captain Anzyl acknowledged the morning greeting with a nod as he strode purposefully to the bridge replicator. "What shall it be today, everyone?" he pondered aloud.

Eroga couldn't help but roll her eyes at the captain's daily ritual. Unlike most Starfleet captains she had encountered, who stuck to a familiar routine—"Coffee. Black." or "Tea, Earl Grey, Hot."—Captain Praxas, with his ever-present sweet tooth and penchant for culinary experimentation, sought novelty each day. He relished in asking the crew for suggestions on what unusual concoction from around the galaxy he should sample next.

"Tell me, Eroga," Anzyl inquired, his curiosity piqued by her musings, "What is the customary morning brew among the residents of House Martok?"

She chuckled, her fingers flying across the console. "Like all noble houses, my mother and grandmother perfected their own blend of Raktajino," she explained. "However, I doubt your Trill palate would appreciate the Frothy Targ Blood and Q'onos Pepper syrup. It tends to incinerate most humanoid tongues," she added with a laugh.

"Indeed, I'll pass on that," Anzyl replied with a shudder of disgust.

"Back in my hometown of Portugal on Earth, sir," a human Yeoman chimed in, eager to contribute, "They crafted the finest Mazagran—a sweet iced coffee infused with citrus fruits. It paired perfectly with a fresh Nata, a delectable egg custard tart."

"Ah, splendid suggestion, Ensign Souza!" Anzyl exclaimed, snapping his fingers in approval. "I'll give that a try." Turning to the replicator, he issued his command. "Computer, one serving of Portuguese Mazagran and Nata." With a gentle hum and a shimmering flash, a small cup of iced coffee adorned with a lemon wedge and mint sprig materialized alongside a delicate egg tart on the replicator's tray.

"Carrying his morning coffee and a sweet indulgence, he strolled toward his Captain's chair, his voice echoing across the bridge. "What's our agenda for today, crew?"

"Ship remains on course to Cardassia Prime, sir," Lusaalli reported, her fingers dancing over the console as stars streaked past on the viewscreen.

"ETA?" he inquired, taking a leisurely sip of his ice cold beverage.

"We're scheduled to reach the Cardassian border at 10:00 hours, sir," she responded, her gaze fixed on the display.

"Sir," Heluna interjected, her hand adjusting her earpiece, "We have an incoming hail from a... Risian Pleasure Cruise vessel, sir. It's the Liberia's Grace."

"The Liberia's Grace?" Neil's interest piqued. "Isn't that the Orion vessel we assisted in liberating from Damon Gopum a few months ago?" he recalled.

"I don't recall aiding in the liberation of an Orion vessel," Anzyl admitted, a tinge of confusion in his tone.

"You were still under the influence T's 'suspended transporter' while we were extracting the Praxas symbiote," Neil clarified, "They departed while you were still recovering from surgery."

"Ah, yes, that," Anzyl muttered, attempting to bury memories beneath the comforting chill of his coffee.

"We aided in their escape from DaiMon Gopum's clutches, and they departed on amicable terms," Neil assured the captain.

"Very well, then. I'll defer to your judgment on this, Number 1," Anzyl conceded, nodding his approval. "Heluna, open a channel."

"Yes, Sir," she acknowledged, adjusting the viewscreen to reveal the familiar interior of the Liberia's Grace. The luxurious Risian cruise liner was adorned with opulent silks, glistening jewels, and lavish decorations, a stark contrast to the utilitarian decor of the Nexus bridge.

"Good morning, Nexus," a green Orion woman with raven-black flowing hair and regal attire appeared on the viewscreen.

"Jaidaa!" Neil exclaimed, rising from his seat and adjusting his uniform with a quick gesture of formality. "What a pleasant surprise! How can we assist you today?"

"Ah, Commander," she greeted with a sophisticated smile, acknowledging Neil before turning to the captain. "And Captain, it's delightful to see you. You appear to be in much better spirits. We couldn't resist dropping by when we detected your familiar warp signature. We simply had to say hello."

Anzyl nodded appreciatively. "We're grateful for your concern and your visit, Jaidaa. I am indeed feeling much better."

"Oh, Captain!" Jaidaa's expression brightened with realization. "I just realized that the women of Liberia's Grace never properly thanked the Nexus for liberating us from that wretched DaiMon! We simply must come aboard to express our gratitude properly." Her tone carried a hint of urgency and sincerity.

"I'm ok with that Captain!" Neil interjected eagerly, his eyes alight with enthusiasm.

Anzyl considered for a moment, then nodded decisively. "We're approximately three hours from our destination, and I haven't had a proper breakfast yet," he remarked. "How about a breakfast social in the Melting Pot, the Nexus's premier lounge?"

Jaidaa's mischievous grin widened. "That sounds absolutely divine, Captain," she replied, her hand resting confidently on her hip. "The women of Liberia's Grace are eager to explore more of your magnificent vessel."