Getting to know the Language Specialist

Posted on Friday August 9th, 2019 @ 3:20am by Captain Franklin Johnson & Lieutenant Commander Freya Mannerheim

1,098 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Getting to know the XO
Location: USS Poseidon; Rec Lounge, Deck 5
Timeline: Pre-Poseidon Launch; Drydock
Tags: Drydock, Pre-Launch

Freya nursed her whisky glass as she sat in the Poseidon's lounge. So this was to be her new home. After the destruction of the Cromwell in the Badlands, Starfleet Command found it appropriate to assign her to another training ship to complete her first tour of duty. She sighed as she took a sip. So many things had happened in the five weeks since. After the debriefing on the Edinburgh and the detailed report on the incident, she had undergone extended medical examinations and fitness checks before the admiralty had assigned her to the Poseidon. A quick shuttle ride to Starbase 99 later, she had finally arrived. After finding her quarters, she had quickly dropped off what little personal effects she had. Her bunkmate, one Ensign Allen, had not been there - and honestly, Freya wasn't sure if she actually minded that. Getting used to her new surroundings and processing the events of the past few weeks had been difficult enough without being forced to do smalltalk. And yet, here she was, waiting for her new Commanding Officer to meet her and introduce her to the ship.

Commander Franklin Johnson strode through the corridors of his new ship. The Poseidon had recently been opened up by the starbase drydock engineers for crew arrival, and Franklin had been among the first on board. He admired the freshness of the interior, and the nostalgic quality from a bygone era. He had been informed that his new Language Specialist had arrived, and that this specific Junior Officer would also operate their helm. He made his way towards the crew rec lounge on deck 5 to greet her.

Once the doors slid open, Franklin entered, greeting one of the few junior officers he recognized from file images.

"Lieutenant Freya! Good to see you! Welcome abroad, I'm Commander Johnson, mind if I take a seat?"

Freya stood instinctively. "I am honoured to meet you, sir. Of course, sir."

"At ease, Lieutenant. Freya, if I may call you that? You can call me Frank. This is an informal meeting, no need for pleasantries."

He smiled, taking his seat, waiting for her before he continued.

"Thanks for coming on board, we needed a conn officer bad! So why did you choose the Poseidon of all places?"

She took a sip of her whisky before responding. "I was assigned to the Poseidon, sir, after what happened on my training cruise. Are you aware of the fate of the U.S.S. Cromwell, sir?"

"I am not. I can understand if it's something you don't want to talk about."

"We were assigned to hunt down a group of pirates in the Badlands, sir. After successfully rooting out a nest of pirates, we were hit by an ion storm. The ship was lost with all hands. Except for me." She gulped down her whisky. "After debriefing and making sure I was fit to continue, command assigned me to the Poseidon, sir." Suddenly, a sharp sting shot through her leg stump, and her face briefly contorted with pain. She cursed under her breath before continuing. "You will probably also be confused by why a language specialist has also been assigned to the conn, while still wearing blue. Well, my parents were traders, so I know how to fly a ship - but my training and specialisation is in communications."

Franklin was silent during her explanation. His attention was direct and focused, a sympathetic expression when the pain was evident on her face. He watched, noting her prosthetic leg. Gazing back at her, he had a new appreciation for her condition.

"Honestly, I'm just happy to have one," Franklin said truthfully. "Concerning your ship, you have my deepest condolences. The Poseidon is assigned as an anti-piracy convoy escort, but she is also Starfleet Academy's training ship, one of many. We won't be typically sent into dangerous situations like the one you encountered, but I can't make promises."

Freya played with her glass for a moment. "Sir, if you look at my record and my personal history, you will see that I have been through plenty of dangerous situations already." She looked the commander directly in the eyes. "I do not fear danger, sir. You will always be able to rely on me. No matter the situation."

The Commander stared back, then slowly nodded. "I believe you, Lieutenant. That's very rare on a first meeting, but I honestly believe you."

Freya smiled. "Thank you, sir. Now, is there anything I need to know regarding my duties?"

"As a Language Specialist or Helm Officer?" He gave a short chuckle, giving a shrugging motion. "Language Specialist is what you arrived here on as primary, so you're the person we go to when the computers can't decipher a communication or if we have trouble communicating, period. As Flight Control Officer, you're essentially the Chief Helmsman, but you're not. Not unless we can't find a Chief, in which case you're first pick."

He smiled, "I assume you know how to fly a starship?"

"Well, sir, I am more experienced with light freighters, but I had a look at the manual. Doesn't look all that different to be honest. I'll manage."

"Very good," Franklin said, then gazed around. There was two crew mess halls on Deck 5, one on port and one starboard. Both were fashioned exactly the same, reminiscent of the original form it was constructed in. Dotted with four-seat circular tables, it welcomed crew with replicators on various areas of the wall. It was, in essence, functional and comfortable. He gazed back at Freya.

"What do you think of her so far? The Poseidon, I mean?"

Freya looked around. "She seems a good little ship, sir. The Cromwell was a Nova-Class, so a bit different. Still, I am sure I will learn my way around her soon enough." Looking at her empty glass, she couldn't help but smile. "I approve of the whisky at least. Mind if I go get a refill, sir?" The Commander nodded, so she rose to go to the bar. She was starting to feel at ease already, she thought to herself as she refilled the glass and returned to the table. "Thank you for welcoming me on board, Commander."

"My pleasure," he said, then smiled as he stood to grab his own replicated whiskey. He sat back down with her, raised the shot glass he had, offering a toast. "To new beginnings."

Freya looked at the Commander's drink. "Replicated? Sir, with all due respect, nothing beats a genuine, real Scottish single malt." She laughed and raised her glass. "To new beginnings!"

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