New Beginnings, Part I

[Cptn_Seiben 0]

“New Beginnings, Part I”

Log entry 01 (45): SD 9401.09

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

USS Cherokee, NCC-1602, Star date 9401.06

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Cherokee slowed from warp and dropped to impulse power. “Sir, we are approaching Spacedock” Rolf Seiben looked out at the view screen. “Thank you Lieutenant” he replied. The stars around the Polaris class frigate changed to streaks to solid forms as the Cherokee decelerated. Soon, the imposing sights of the massive Earth Spacedock and the round blue sphere of Earth filled the main viewer.

 

 

 

 

“Mr. Gomez” he said to the Lieutenant at Communications, “please get permission to dock” Gomez put on his ear piece and nodded. “Aye, aye sir” he said as he contacted the station. “Cherokee, you are cleared to dock at port 16B. Personnel are on hand to off-load your cargo. So, sit back and enjoy the ride” replied the voice of the space traffic controller.

 

 

 

 

Ensign Anderson at Navigation tapped her fingers and aligned the ship to Spacedock's doors, which suddenly opened, ready to engulf the little frigate into its big belly. “We've got you, Cherokee. And Captain Seiben? The Admiral wishes to see you” replied the controller. Rolf nodded and acknowledged the controller.

 

 

 

 

“Tell him I'll be there in a few, thanks” he said. He adjusted the tunic of his bright red uniform as he sat up in his seat. He felt a slight shudder as the Spacedock's tractor beam gets a hold of the Cherokee, reeling it inside like a salmon on a fisherman's line. By now, it was a routine experience for the seasoned captain, but he never really cared for that sudden jerk at the start.

 

 

 

 

The Cherokee slowly crept its way inside, and patrons in the restaurant barely gave it a second glance as it passed by out of the window. It slid slowly into its spot, next to a Miranda class. It again stopped with a light thud. “Docking sequence complete, sir” replied Anderson. “Extending ramps and opening airlocks”

 

 

 

 

“Thank you” Rolf said simply. As CO of the Cherokee for more than two years now, delivery runs like these was just another day at the office. This time, they're carrying some engineering and medical equipment for the station. “Cargo crews are on board to off-load our cargo, sir” replied the Operations officer. Rolf nodded. “Great. They should know where it is by now”

 

 

 

 

“Since we're all docked, you're all free to go” he said. Rolf got up from his seat and headed to the lift. He sighed to himself as the doors closed. In the face of it, yes, this was just another cargo run for the crew of the frigate Cherokee. One of many they've done, mostly to colonies and planets to deliver supplies, equipment or food and the like.

 

 

 

 

But, this time was different. He entered his quarters, and looked around. It was now empty, save for a few boxes. Yes, this cargo run in particular was his last as captain of the Cherokee. His crew held a huge goodbye party for him last night, where they broke open their stock of Romulan Ale. It was a fun time had by all, but inwardly, he was going to miss the crew.

 

 

 

 

For the past two years, he and his crew has been through a lot, often having to deal with Klingon or Orion pirates looking to raid his ship of its sometimes valuable cargo. Rolf recalled their run six months ago when the Cherokee moved the gold from Fort Knox to another location as the Fort turned museum was undergoing maintenance and renovations.

 

 

 

 

A group of a half dozen Orion pirates almost got their green hands on the gold the Cherokee was carrying, but with a few smart moves from Anderson and Leone at Tactical, they managed to hold their own and make their escape, while dealing the pirates a severe blow. Rolf picked up one of his boxes, filled with some of his possessions.

 

 

 

 

“Knock, knock” replied a voice standing by his door. Rolf turned around to face Commander Patrick Sullivan, the Cherokee's XO. “Oh, Pat. It's you. Came to send me along my merry way?” asked Rolf with a smile. Sullivan chuckled. “Something like that” Sullivan helped load some boxes onto a hover cart, being pushed by a yeoman who had also followed Sullivan in.

 

 

 

 

“You know, it won't be the same without you, Rolf” said Sullivan. “But, damn, you are one lucky bastard. You know that?” It was Rolf's turn to chuckle. “Don't I know it” they were of course referring to Rolf's new command. Not just anyone gets to command one of Starfleet's newest ships. And the surprise of getting it, still hasn't worn off yet.

 

 

 

 

“An Excelsior Refit” mused Sullivan. “It must be nice” “Sure is. And you gotta look forward to that. Though with just two years of experience, I was surprised that they selected me” Sullivan scoffed. “Oh, with a family like yours, it sure as hell doesn't surprise me”

 

 

 

 

“Oh come now. My family history – or my brother – had nothing to do with my getting command of the Challenger” Sullivan nodded. “Uh-huh. You keep thinking yourself that. Meanwhile, I'm stuck with this old tub” Rolf shrugged. “Take it as you see fit. Some people just have more luck than others” joked Rolf.

 

 

 

 

“But truth be told, I'm sure going to miss this old crate. We've been through a lot and you never forget your first command” said Rolf. The last of the boxes was placed on the cart, revealing a completely empty quarters. “Though captaining a frigate is hardly glamourous, it was a great experience and I almost don't want to leave”

 

 

 

 

“Phh! Trading in a Polaris for an Excelsior is hardly a reason not to want to leave. I know you'll miss the crew and we'll miss you, but you'll make a same relationship with your new crew on the Challenger” again Rolf nodded. “Of that, I've no doubt” he said as he followed the yeoman out towards the airlock.

 

 

 

 

“But yeah, I know what you mean, and I'm glad Starfleet is letting me take your place on the captain's seat. The Cherokee's no Excelsior, but she can still hold her own” The two men rounded the corner leading to the airlock. To Rolf's surprise, the crew lined up alongside the corridors. At the end of the corridor, standing inside the airlock was a rather familiar looking Admiral.

 

 

 

 

They bade their final farewells to the captain as he past by. Rolf smiled and bade his in response. “So, crew, one final time, I'd like to wish you all farewell. It's been an absolute pleasure serving with each and every one of you. Don't be a stranger and keep in touch sometime” he said. The crew applauded his final words.

 

 

 

 

The Admiral stepped up from out of the airlock. “Captain Seiben, by order of Starfleet, I officially relieve you of command of the USS Cherokee. Command of the vessel will be given to Commander Sullivan, effective immediately. Commander, your Executive Officer is on his way here from Earth. Congratulations” Sullivan saluted. “Thank you”

 

 

 

 

“Congrats, take tare of the old girl, eh?” asked Rolf. “Will do, boss” Sullivan and Seiben shook hands and gave each other a final salute. A boson's whistle sounded and the Cherokee crew faced the captain. In precise unison, they gave their old captain one final salute, which he returned, and stepped off the Cherokee one final time.

 

END OF PART I.