RUBICON CROSSING

by robspace54

Author's notes:

This story, my first fanfic, I wrote in 2006 for the 10th "Strange New Worlds" anthology competition.

While it was not selected for publication, I was recently encouraged to dust it off and tidy it a bit. So warts and all, here it is. :)

Yet it made me get semi-serious about writing!

Thanks for reading,

Rob

Chapter 1 – Shipping Out

The young dark haired cadet stood on the scarred deck of Olympus Station, orbiting the blue orb of Earth visible five thousand kilometers below. He was reading a computer screen to find the dock where the USS Grizzly was berthed, his new assignment. After two years of hard work at Starfleet Academy in San Francisco, he'd gotten his first shipboard posting at last. As he inspected the screen, a tall woman looked over the youngster.

She sighed to herself. They looked younger and younger. She approached the dark-haired youngster. "Excuse me. Are you looking for the Grizzly?"

The boy turned. As his eyes fell upon her single collar pip, he came to attention. "Sorry ma'am. I dinna see you…" He was looking at a woman in her late forties with piercing green eyes and red hair. Her uniform shirt was rumpled and spotted - not exactly regulation.

She cut him off, noting the heavy accent to his voice. "It's OK, son. This isn't a parade ground. At ease. You must be our new trainee. I'm Lieutenant Andra Clarke. We're a loose bunch aboard the Grizzly, so relax." It seemed a crime the torture these young people had been told to expect. She'd gone through hell in her training, but that didn't mean she'd pass it on. She held out her right hand and the cadet shook it. "Wasn't that easy? Now grab your gear and follow me. Excuse the mess," she waved at her untidy uniform. "We just swapped out a dilithium chamber. Let's grab this turbolift and get down to the ship." In a few moments the pair had traveled to the station hub and the lift came to halt outside a massive security door.

Lt. Clarke grunted. "I've put your records into the security system so you'll have to login for boarding."

The cadet typed his ident, SE-197-57T, alongwith hispassword, into the wall terminal. Clarke followed with her own codes. A vision system scanned them, matching biometrics to security data before the thick door slid open. An odor of ozone and warm plastic wafted out, tickling nose and brain. He grinned.

Clarke saw a happy look on his face. "Familiar?

"It smells just like the simulator at the Academy!"

"Well, son, where we're off to, they haven't programmed that scenario – yet!"

"Uh, Lieutenant? What is your post?" He feared the answer.

She gave him a wicked grin. "Why, son, I'm both the Exec and Chief Engineer, and your boss. But lighten up, I don't bite, much." She tapped the controls and the door closed, making a solid clunk as it sealed. "Welcome aboard, cadet. From this point on, there is no return. You have just crossed the river like old Julius Caesar himself! Let's drop off your gear and get down to the engine room. The skipper wants to undock at 0930 sharp, and he'll be cranky if we're late. We'd better move it."

"Uh, Lieutenant? I thought I'd only be observing ship's operations." He hoped he wasn't starting off on the wrong foot.

"Son, you will be observing, but you'll be doing too. We're not such a big ship that we can have any spectators. You'll get more experience here than on a big ship."

Briefly they hurried along the main deck, dodging junction boxes and overhead pipes. The ship was very compact, almost with crew spaces as afterthoughts. Clarke pushed open a hatch revealing a dingy bunkroom. "This is where our commandos used to berth, but they're not with us anymore. So stow your duffle in that locker and let's get a move on."

He did as he was told then followed her down a cross corridor to a ladder-equipped shaft. If there were turbolifts aboard, they were reserved for more worthy species than engineers. The pair descended and emerged into the engine spaces. At the center of the engine room stood the massive housing of the matter/antimatter reactor, looking like an ancient steam engine. Twin fusion reactors bulged the walls on either side, further compressing the space. The cadet knew that the ship was forty years old, but seeing this ancient layout it struck him that she was really old.

Clarke smiled as the kid looked over the relics he'd be working with, herself not included. "Don't worry. The old girl's still good for many a parsec. Now let's get you checked out on the power board." Just like that she threw him into the deep end. Over the next hour, she could tell that the cadet was very good, and quick besides. She found herself wondering how they'd gotten so lucky. The last one had washed out after a three-week trial. But this one was first-class. She was sure that they'd be finding the edges of his skills soon enough.

After an hour, she was pleased enough to let him take the first watch, at least until they went to warp. "Now remember, no matter what, if this readout," she tapped the panel, "goes to orange, damp it quick! Forget the red. If it goes into the red, we'll be plasma before you can react. These old birds have some iffy damping at that power level. But if she goes to orange, hit these buttons, and she'll damp right down. If not, I'll be ahead of you heading to an escape pod!" She grinned at her joke. The kid smiled back. Good for him

So far, the cadet felt at ease in the crowded compartment. The machines felt like old friends although he'd just laid hands on them. Every simulation and class had prepared him for this moment. Soon to be underway; his fondest wish granted! At 0925, the intercom whistled. Seeing Clarke expectantly looking at him, he punched the response button. "Engine room, aye!"

A voice came from the speaker. "Engine room, Bridge. Prepare to make way. I'll be wanting one-quarter impulse at undock, which will be at 0930 precisely. Stand by!"

"Aye, aye." The trainee felt ready, although his uniform shirt was getting damp from nervous excitement.

A few minutes later, the command came down. "Engine room, lines are slipped, and we are station keeping. Give me one-quarter impulse."

The trainee reached out and smoothly engaged the fusion reactors, channeling their power to the impulse engines. "Aye, Bridge. Power building for one-quarter impulse. You'll have it in five seconds. Mark!" His telltales showed the Grizzly slowly moving out and accelerating. And under his control, too! He felt like he was on top of the world. But before his head could get too big, Clarke spoke up.

She grew animated. "Watch your flows! See how the old girl spikes a bit? She's been doing that for two years. A bit cranky when cold."

He swiftly adjusted the reactors, reducing the spiky waveform to a smooth flow. He was rewarded by a throbbing hum from the deck plates and a smile from his superior.

"Good! You're doing well. Hang with it." She continued to coach him along for the next four hours, right up to the call for warp drive, and then she shouldered him aside. No need to stress the youngster too much on his first day.

As he stepped away from the console he felt other eyes on him. Three crewmen were watching him as he stood there, watching Clarke ply her trade. But the oldest of the three gave him the thumbs up, the ancient symbol of approval. "Good job, kid," said the second. The third yelled "Some don't last five minutes!"

That's when he knew that he belonged! He had slipped into place so smoothly, it felt like coming home. An odd feeling in a strange place.