Am I? Should I? Will I?

Posted on Tue Sep 12th, 2023 @ 10:15pm by Commander Mark Bawden

539 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Ethics, Morals & The Prime Directive.
Location: Bridge, Defiant Escort U.S.S. Agincourt
Timeline: Post Launch

Mark sat in the command chair on the Bridge watching the Dreadnought pull away before he ordered a change of course for the patrol sectors. It felt....strange. Such a small vessel, tiny in retrospect being launched from such a colossal ship. It gave a different perspective on things as while on the Bridge at his post everything else seemed small, miniscule by comparison and now, he was the small and miniscule one. The viewscreen showed the fighter wing being deployed as the Dreadnought cast its search net. It was impressive to watch, rows upon rows of fighters leaving the ship like bees from a hive. It was a clean deployment, even the two Defiants.

"Helm, set a course for the first patrol sector, engineering, reduce energy emissions as low as possible," Mark ordered hoping that the signature wake of the larger ship was enough to mask the launches and get underway unnoticed. He knew though that the Defiants were overpowered and overgunned for a vessel of its size, given the unknowns of the region he didn't want to be caught unprepared.

"Sir, the fighter squadrons are splitting up." A report came in. Mark had to respect the efficiency of the fighter pilots, they were good and it was showing.

Mark's orders were simple, to act as a hub of secure communications and backup should it be required and delay action until the Dreadnought could arrive. Even as he sat on the Bridge it made him realize that it took a certain person to command starships, a certain mindset, there was training and experience involved but that was why he wore yellow instead of red. His was not as finely tuned as Starfleet would like it to be. He knew that had the Captain been assigned a First Officer then perhaps he'd still be on the Bridge at his post while the First Officer commanded the Agincourt but that simply wasn't to be right now.

"Sir, we have a secure transmission from Flagship. Message reads. Good Luck."

"No reply Ensign." Mark ordered figuring there was little need to and the need to remain as covert as possible for the mission that he'd been assigned. It would also give him the opportunity to put his tactical mind to use, see the pieces of a puzzle, and try to make sense of it while the fighters patrolled and searched the area. While Mark hoped for the best the marine in him knew that he'd have to also prepare for the worst, plans seldom survived contact with the enemy and he'd have to be quick to adapt to it.

While nothing was happening he took a moment to think about his family and how things might have been different had be opted to resign from Starfleet. He wondered what kind of life they would have lead otherwise, what planet would they go to, what professions would they take up?

"Captain, secure computer link ups established with assigned fighters, clear telemetry across the board."

"Alright people, we are the centre of early warning and the fighters are our screen. Report anything but also forward onto Flagship." Mark spoke wanting to be informed but also informative.

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