Marching Through the Vineyard

Arcadia had just sailed out of dock as it did so many times before, sleek and silver, sliding past the blue-white gleam of Earth.

She leaped beyond the edge of Pluto, chugging at full impulse into the starry expanse of the galaxy, and into the blue funnel which appeared before it, opened wide.

Slipstream.

Not many hours later, she decelerated into proximity of Deep Space Nine.  But schedules – namely those of the numerous guests on board, civilian scientists who had appointments to keep with a blue giant called Nonallix B and a singularity right next to it... and the schedules of very particular subspace particles emanating from it, as well – didn't permit stopping this time.  The Quantum-class starship flowed past, and another blue phenomenon flowered into being; what the Bajorans called the Celestial Temple, the gateway to the Prophets... the Bajoran wormhole.  It flared briefly as the ship flew in, then vanished.

"Three... two... one..."  Joycelyn Havercroft called out the numbers as she watched her readings on the helm console.  "We've cleared slipstream."

"Good job, Lieutenant," Captain April said behind her.  It was her first time actually piloting a starship at slipstream velocities, not in simulation.  "I hope you do as well on the next jump."

"Aye, sir," she said with meaning, and glanced at the screen, though she couldn't see it yet – the singularity, Nonallix B1.  She was going to have to fly through it.  Though the scientists and engineers and other experts who planned the mission assured the crew of the Arcadia that it should go like clockwork, it didn't necessarily mean it would.  Any of a thousand different things could go wrong, and there would be a thousand different variables Havercroft would have to measure and account for, when she took them on that big ride across the universe.  Despite all the careful planning, there was one thing the civilian scientists could not do: say anyone had made such a trip before.  It was going to be the first of its kind... and Joycelyn Havercroft got to take them there, God willing.

April turned toward the rear of the bridge, noting the empty first officer's chair.  "Tactical, what do sensors say?"

They were five light-years away from Nonallix B at this point... at the scheduled, predetermined rendezvous point for picking up a new passenger.

Iyika read her panel, then looked up, eyes conveying a subtle concern.

In the dim black and gray of Dakel-2's bridge, a leather-faced Jem'Hadar raised his head from an aft console, eyes shining dully in the light.

"We are receiving a hail from the Arcadia."

The First of the Jem'Hadar vessel looked to the Vorta, a typically haughty representative of his race.  The Vorta in turn eyed the woman in their midst, a Starfleet exchange officer, through the eyepiece on his headset, and smiled that chilling, ingratiating Vorta smile.

"Lieutenant Commander Maguire," he said in a well-mannered tone.  "Perhaps you'd care to respond?  They are, after all, your people."

Patricia nodded.  "Of coarse."  She activated the comm.  "Ahcadia... this is Lieutenant Commandah Patricia Mahguire, representing the Jem'Hadah vessel Dakel-2."

A moment later a male voice, somewhat light in tone, chipper, with a Midwestern accent, came through.  Definite Yank.

"Ah'm ready when y'all are. Sending the coordinates now." She turned to the Vorta. "Request permission to depaht."

The Vorta nodded. "Granted."

In transporter room one, April stood, an arm draped over the corner of the transporter console, while Tala worked nearby.  The familiar hum and glow faded to reveal his new first officer.

He cocked a slight grin and stepped forward, holding out a hand – the typical April greeting.  "Miss Maguire.  Welcome aboard the Arcadia."

Patricia took his hand and shook it firmly.  "Captahn.  A pleasure ta make your acquaintance.  Ah look forwahd ta serving as your first officer."

"Likewise."  He gave a nod, turned and indicated the Cardassian-Bajoran Tala.  "This is our transporter chief, Tala...."

Tala tilted her head and said in a soft voice, "Commander."

Patricia nodded to Tala.  "Chief."

April gestured Maguire to the door, motioning her into the hall.  "Well, Commander, I'm not quite sure where to start," he said, noting the slight limp in her gait.  "So let's start at the top.  The Dominion ship which brought you... What can you tell me about them?"

She walked into the corridor, pausing for the captain to follow.  "The Jem'Hadah ahr very efficient.  The Federation could leahrn a lot from them.  Ah was honored to have served aboahd their ship.  Ah also think that their reputation has been overly exaggerated."

April blinked at that.  "Forgive me, but... are we talking about the same Jem'Hadar?"

Patricia looked back.  "We most cahrtainly are.  Granted, I don't think everyone in Stahfleet would be suited foh serving on a Jem'Hadah vessel.  But...I thought it was a good experience."

A little grunt of surprise escaped April's throat.  "Hmm.  Well... I must say, I think you're the first Starfleet officer I've ever met who's had something nice to say about them.  Regardless... To the point: I'm understandably concerned about having them watch our backs."

"Some tahm ago, we'd have been saying the same thing about the Klingons.  And last Ah heard, there have been negotiations with the Romulans.  Trust always needs a first step."

April nodded.  "Agreed."  He was beginning to like this Maguire already... and her file spoke for itself.  "What have you been told about our mission?"

She shook her head.  "Very little.  Ah know we ahr doing some scientific reseahch in this galaxy. Ah'm not positive past that."

"In this galaxy?"  April drew a blank look at her and made a face.  "Oh no... sorry.  Not this galaxy."  He stopped at a wall terminal in the corridor and punched up a display.  A spherical yellowish galaxy appeared against the blackness of space.  "That galaxy."  The data readout below it said 'Galaxy M87'.  "Why else did you think we were scheduled to rendezvous here, five light years from Nonallix B?"

She shook her head. "There you go.  Should have wondered about that.  Ah've gotten too used to the Jem'Hadah way of doing things.  No offense, Captain... Your crew needs to get their facts straight before they inform someone of their assignment."

April's eyes narrowed instinctively.  "My crew wasn't responsible for informing you of your assignment, Miss Maguire.  It was left to diplomatic channels... and your 'efficient' Jem'Hadar."  He deactivated the display.  "Walk with me, please."

Patricia followed the captain.  With some dismay, she noticed she was pulling left.  Damn... she hated when that happened... but it was inevitable.  "Yes, Captain?"

"I have a bad habit, Lieutenant Commander, of reading someone's file before they're assigned to my ship.  It engenders certain... preconceptions.  Frankly, it seems you come from a family of over-achievers.  Starfleet, all the way back to... I don't know when.  I'm not exempt from that myself, but your... shall we say, 'style' differs from mine.  I was like you once – forgive my bluntness... I couldn't see past my uniform.  In the past two years as captain of this ship, I've learned a few things.  Had my eyes opened, and now I see in a whole new way."  He looked at her.  "This crew is, at times, going to test your patience.  I'm going to test your patience.  But when it comes down to the crunch... who has the last word?"

"You do, Captain.  Without question."

"Thank you.  Then you should also know... when it comes to certain situations... I like to take risks, personally, that most Starfleet captains aren't supposed to.  It's that old classic scenario that I know we've all heard before, but... I have to ask: How do you feel about that?"

"Ah don't think that is appropriate.  Your place is heah on the ship.  The captain isn't supposed to intentionally place himself in hahm's way."

"But... I do.  Sometimes.  Call it another bad habit I have."  April remained focused straight ahead, but held that certain air implying he was well aware of everything around him.

"Ah will respect your decision to do so.  But don't expect me ta like it." Her leg was throbbing by now...she had been standing most of the day...and it was really getting to her.

"Commander," April said calmly, digesting her last words, not looking directly at her, "what is wrong with your leg..."  Not exactly a question... more of a statement.  And he didn't break stride.

"Ah took a disruptor blast ta mah knee on mah first assignment. Leg nevah healed quaht raht." She wondered what he was going to think of this...a first officer with a bum knee.

"I see."  He stopped suddenly, eyes riveted on the end of the corridor.  "There's a crewman injured in that turbolift.  He has five seconds to live.  You're closest.  What do you do?"

"If it kills me, Ah would get there. No matter what. And if you don't believe me...then count to five."

"Commander..."  April's head turned slowly, gaze leveling on her.  "I just did."  He tsked, made a face, and tapped his com-badge.  "Mr. Ringo."

"Come down to deck five, please.  There's someone here who needs to get to their quarters."  April regarded her studiously as he spoke.

Patricia was fuming on the inside.  Shit... She should have seen that one coming.  But, you never would have known it to look at her.  Her face was the picture of calm.  She didn't say anything else... just stood there... thinking about how good a heat pack on her leg would feel.

"Take a break, Miss Maguire," April said casually.  "The counselor's office is just down that way; I believe it's empty.  Have a seat.  Get comfortable."  He turned and strode towards the lift.  "Let's see if you can make it to the bridge in one hour."