The Right Path

Posted on 20 Aug 2023 @ 7:54pm by Commander Morgan Tarin & Lieutenant JG Fynn Taymor

2,333 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Episode 18 - Cold Station 31
Location: Regula I - Level 7, Engineering Alcove
Timeline: MD 17, 0916 hrs

[ON]

The search for Galileo's new chief engineer was now underway. There weren't many options, of course, this far away from the core Federation sectors. Regula I was a remote science station with a limited crew compliment consisting mostly of civilian scientists who couldn't operate a warp core reactor if their lives depended on it. Not that they weren't smart enough to learn, but rather that they lacked the years-long training and knowledge of starship engineering principles to be effective; especially under duress and time constraints.

Commander Morgan Tarin exited the lift on Regula I's seventh level where the cargo bays, conference room, security office, and engineering bay were located. There weren't many gold-collared personnel on board the facility but her research of the station's manifest revealed a small compliment of Starfleet engineers working on this deck. Perhaps this was where she could obtain what she was looking for. As she quickly walked with long strides through the corridor, she soon found the entrance to the station's engineering facility. She stepped inside with a hiss of the door opening then closing behind her, then looked around the expansive chamber.

"Lieutenant Taymor?" she loudly requested, projecting her voice across the room as best she could while hoping the man was present.

"Um, I think you mean Lieutenant Fynn," came a soft voice from her left. It belonged to a slim Bajoran officer. His uniform jacket was missing, and he was wiping some type of residue from his hands. "What I mean to say is, I'm Lieutenant Fynn Taymor, but Taymor is my given name, not my family name. That would be Fynn, so my formal title would be Lieutenant Fynn. It' a common misunderstanding, especially if one hasn't served with many Bajorans, and, um, some Bajorans - especially the first to serve in Starfleet, they, um, sort of assimilated and such in order to fit in, so if you served with any of them, they may have given the wrong impression. But, um, yes, I'm me. How can I be of service?"

Tarin observed the man in his entirety for the first time. He was of medium height yet very slim with long brown hair and similarly-colored eyes. His distinctive nose-bridge ridges and robust ear decoration revealed him to be as he said, a Bajoran. "I apologize, Lieutenant Fynn. I didn't realize you were a Bajoran..." She mentally kicked herself for not reviewing his personnel file more in-depth. During her haste to procure new potential recruits, she'd become focused on the service records of her candidates with little regard for their species. "Do you have a moment? In private."

"Of course," Fynn answered, then he remembered he was a bit of a mess. "Um, just a second, please." He made his way over to a utility sink and washed and dried his hands. He adjusted the vest over his gold division shirt in an attempt to be more presentable for the senior officer, his jacket having been a causality of the morning's first repair. He had no idea why she wanted to see him, but he supposed he was about to find out.

"Apologies for the delay, Commander," he smiled as he returned to Tarin's side. "You mentioned needing someplace private? There's a conference room just down this corridor, and I think it's free at the moment."

"It won't take that long. Walk with me," she replied to the junior lieutenant with a wave of her hand as she started back out through the door to engineering from which she'd entered. "I understand you served aboard the Merrimack and the Edison before your sabbatical. And that you haven't been stationed aboard Regula I for very long," she prefaced. "What are your thoughts of your new assignment here?"

"There's always work to do, and I like staying busy," he replied, his tone happy and sincere. "This isn't exactly a region of space I think I ever would have visited without being ordered out here, so I like having the chance to chat with so many different folks. Sure, I'm not where I'd planned to be, before my, um, sabbatical. But as they say: Zal vo feya. Everything must change."

Tarin continued to walk down the corridor while slowing her pace as she exchanged words with the engineer. "And where did you plan to be, Mister Fynn? Aboard a starship? Exploring space with the other fleet-deployed engineers?" It was an honest question; one designed to reveal a deeper understanding of the man's desires.

Fynn brushed his hair out of his face. "On the Edison, as Chief Engineer. Commander Gyrda was planning to retire and had been preparing me to take her place. Had I not been injured, well, I imagine that's where I'd be now." He unconsciously caressed his left arm when he mentioned his injury. "But when I was burned... Ma'am, if I may, are you in any way spiritual or religious?"

"Call me 'captain', lieutenant. I'm Commander Tarin, commanding officer of the Galileo. Nova-class." The formal introduction was curt while she considered his question with its due forethought and her own brief personal reflection. It was hard for her to describe her faith...or what was left of it. "I am," was her simple answer.

At the mention of Galileo, Fynn's eyes widened, and he momentarily forgot his place in their conversation. Edison had been a Nova class and he knew that class like the back of his hand. Maybe Tarin would allow him to visit her ship after whatever pressing concern had been addressed.

"Me too, Captain," he continued, back on topic. "Before my injury, I had been wondering if I'd taken the right path... if, despite my interest and talent, I should have pursued a religious vocation instead. Well, there were complications with my treatment that required additional time off to heal, so I took an extended leave to, um, do some thinking." His thoughts now flashed back to the serenity of the monastery. "Upon rest and reflection, I understood my path included both. I could have my time with Starfleet, and afterwards, I will have time to serve the Prophets."

He blushed; aware he may have said too much in answer to such a simple question. "When I returned from my time away, Gyrda had retired and her position filled. I thought it best to start fresh anyway, so I asked to be assigned wherever I might be needed."

Tarin listened to the man's story about his injury and subsequent complications -- both spiritual and physical. She didn't pity or judge him, for she'd encountered hundreds of Starfleet officers during the aftermath of the Dominion War who had similarly lost their own respective ways in life. Some managed to recover and become a strong semblance of their former selves while others remained permanently disabled. Often psychologically. "I've read your medical file. Tell me what happened to you and about your recovery. You appear...healed, now."

"Third degree plasma burn, my whole left arm," Fynn reported. "Weirdest thing too, there was no pain when it happened. I know now that's because it instantly destroyed my nerve endings, but it was... surreal." He lifted the arm in question and wiggled his fingers. "There were complications with the initial treatment, and my body resisted the first found of skin grafts, but my doctors were fantastic. Full recovery, with only faint dermal scarring."

She watched him raise the scarred arm he'd indicated then reached out and firmly clasped it just below the elbow. Her long fingertips pressed into the flesh below the man's uniform while she held his brown eyes and looked for any visual indication of pain across his features or trembling within her physical grasp. "Does this hurt?" she asked.

The sudden move startled the Bajoran, but his expression was one of confusion, not agony. "No... I mean it's not comfortable, but it doesn't hurt. It is a little weird." He glanced up and down the corridor to see if anyone was watching, then whispered, "Is this some kind of surprise, top secret medical exam?"

Releasing his arm, she smirked at the suggestion with a rare sideways smile. "Consider it a practical test. Trust but verify. I'm sure you understand, being an engineer?" Uneducated diagnoses of the physical form were hopefully nowhere near as meticulous as his own systems diagnostics were. "I needed to see for myself that you aren't hiding anything from Starfleet Medical for my new assignment."

"Hiding? Assignment?" Then the picture snapped into place. Galileo had just returned, a bit rougher than when she'd left. He'd heard some of the station crew mention the ship was a bit short staffed, and the questions about his record? Four years serving on a Nova class probably stood out. "Captain, um, are you asking me to join your engineering team?"

She turned away from him somewhat stoically, now clasping her hands behind her back as she stared off toward the far and uninteresting end of the science facility's long corridor. Then she looked back over her shoulder, her loosely-curled dark hair cascading across her cheek. "I am. Galileo needs a new chief engineer and we've been without one for some time." Too long. "Unless you'd rather stay here aboard Regula I and tend to more menial tasks?"

Fynn couldn't help but wince at the disdain shown for work that was every bit as essential as warp core maintenance. But her offer? The chance to become Chief Engineer of a starship? It sounded too good to be true. "Respectfully, Captain, I do not believe there are any menial tasks in engineering. Even the most mundane aspect can be what separates us all from the void of space if not properly installed and maintained. That being said, if you need a Chief, you've got one!"

Tarin raised her eyebrows for a moment at the junior lieutenant's soft chiding. She studied his brown eyes, decorative earring and very slim physique once more. "Of course an engineer's work is important. That wasn't my intent to dismiss it. I was referring to the environment in which you work..." she curtly clarified before gesturing with one hand to the surrounding bulkheads, "...here, aboard a small static science facility designed for long-term planetary research. Don't misunderstand me, lieutenant: Regula I is an important starbase to the Federation and every position here is valuable. Starship deployments aren't for everyone and if you want to stay because your work here is too important, I'll withdraw my offer."

"Forgive me if I, in any way, offended you, Captain," Fynn apologized, clasping his hands and bowing slightly. "I only wish to be where I can be of most use, and from what you have said, that would appear to be on board your ship." He kept his posture humble while awaiting Tarin's verdict, but in truth he would be content wherever the Prophets intended for him to serve.

Seeing the man's humility was somewhat of a surprise to Tarin. She hadn't served with many Bajorans throughout her career, especially the more devout of their species. "You haven't offended me, lieutenant. I believe you're needed on Galileo," she plainly replied. "Whether that calling is ordained by the Prophets is not for me to conclude. Starfleet affords all of us many unique opportunities and paths through life, and perhaps this is your newest one. What do you say?"

Fynn offered up a silent prayer and lifted his gaze "I would be honored to serve as Galileo's Chief Engineer. I accept."

Tarin held his eyes to judge his sincerity and his passion. It wasn't an easy assignment he was now volunteering for and it would test the limits of his personal fortitude. But without trial and adversity, no one could ever achieve greatness. Or so she'd been told by one of the last Bajorans she'd served with aboard USS Lexington eight years ago. "It's my pleasure to have you with us. Report to my office tomorrow at 0830 and I'll arrange a formal transfer."

"Aye, Captain." In his mind's eye, Fynn saw himself walking into main engineering. He could almost hear the soft pulse of the warp core. He knew how it would feel five degrees warmer in deuterium fuel storage then it would in the corridor, even though the temperature difference was negligible. He could recall the antiseptic smell in the Jeffries tube that ran behind the biobeds in sickbay. In some ways, this would feel like a homecoming. He knew he'd need to allow for refits, for modifications. Still, this assignment felt like wrapping himself in a blanket beside the fire back on Valo II, snuggled close to his mother while his father recounted the myth of the asara beast. It felt good.

Snapping from his reverie, he found he'd snapped to attention. "What next?"

"For now, you're dismissed. I already approached Administrator Frost about your potential change of environment yesterday." She brought her hands in front of her waist where she casually clasped them together. "Tonight, take care of any final personnel issues here on Regula I then get a good night's sleep. We'll meet again tomorrow to formalize your transfer. And I expect you to attend Galileo's change of command ceremony tomorrow at 1200 in the main cargo bay."

"Ok," Fynn nodded. "Um, bye!" Then he turned on his heels and hustled back to the alcove she'd found him in. There was a lot get done, and he couldn't wait to get started.

She watched the young engineer jog back to his current duties. He appeared to be an eccentric yet reverent individual upon first impression. And maybe, most importantly, one with a malleable personality who she could shape into a great Starfleet engineer.

[OFF]

--

CMDR Morgan Tarin
Commanding Officer
USS Galileo-A

LTJG Fynn Taymor
Chief Engineer
USS Galileo-A

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