Chapter 1: The End of “The Armstrong Incident”

When the door opened, I was met by an attractive female Captain who took my orders. I introduced myself and shook her hand.

“Good to meet you, Commander Jones,” she said. “I’m Captain Hawkins. I’m familiar with your service on the Armstrong, and I’ve heard a lot of good things about you from Captain Simmons. I’ve also spoken to Alice Brewster.” I looked at her, not saying anything for a while. “She told me what happened, and I’m sorry. That won’t be an issue here, I assure you. So, are you ready to take a look at your home for next few years?”

“Years?” I asked. She smiled and led me to an observation platform. When I joined her, she pressed a button and the glass in front of us cleared up. My eyes bugged out of my head when I saw the monstrous vessel in front of me.

“She’s the largest, fastest and most advanced ship in the fleet, Commander. And you’ll be my Operations Officer. That makes you my Number Two. Are you ready for an adventure?” I saw her eyes twinkle as she said that.

“Absolutely, Captain,” I said. “What’s our destination?”

“If all goes well, Commander, Alpha Centauri.” I looked at her, shocked. That was just over four light-years away. “The plan is to break the light barrier. If everything works as advertised, we’ll be there in less than two years.”

“Is that even possible?” I asked. She smiled and nodded her head.

“If the engineers are right, yes,” she said.

“Damn,” I said. She laughed.

“We launch in 15 days, Commander,” she said. “You have a lot of homework to do, so you’d better get to it. I like to hold staff briefings at 0800 every day.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. She held out her hand and I accepted it.

“I have to take care of a few things, but I’ll be in touch. Welcome aboard, Commander,” she said before she walked away. After she left, I looked at the vessel floating in the giant bay. I looked on the side of the ship and smiled as I took note of the name: USS Enterprise.

...

And now, the beginning of “Where No One Has Gone Before, Pt. 01”

I walked to the entrance of the long covered gangplank, my gear safely strapped to the two-wheeled carrier, and was met by a crewman in a small electric utility vehicle. He stood and greeted me when I arrived.

“Good evening, sir,” he said. “I’m here to ferry you and your gear to the ship. Let me take that for you.” He took my bags and placed them in the back of the small vehicle, treating my guitar case with special care. It was the one piece of civilian gear I was allowed to bring. Everything else was in storage at my parents house.

I got into the passenger seat as he sat behind the controls. Soon, we were quietly zipping toward the giant spacecraft. I looked at the ship as we drew closer and realized how big this thing is.

I had been on large cruise ships and seen some of the largest aircraft carriers in the Navy’s fleet, but none of those held a candle to this monster. This thing had to be at least three times the size of the Armstrong, maybe four.

“She’s something, isn’t she, sir?” the crewman asked as he drove.

“You got that right,” I said. I looked and saw a number of workers floating around the vessel, getting it ready for launch. We finally reached the main entrance to the ship and the crewman jumped out, put my bags on a wheeled cart and handed it to me.

“Welcome to the Enterprise, sir,” he said before turning back. Pulling my gear behind me, I walked to the entryway, stopped, faced the aft of the ship and saluted – a tradition brought over from the Navy, then saluted the Officer of the Deck.

“Lt. Commander Jones, requesting permission to come aboard, sir,” I said, handing him my orders. The officer, a Lieutenant, Junior Grade, returned the salute and looked at my orders. He nodded his head before speaking.

“Permission granted. Welcome aboard, sir,” he said. He handed my orders to a Commander standing next to him. After the Commander looked over my orders, he shook my hand.

“Commander Axel Hurbi, First Officer,” he said. “Welcome to the Enterprise, Commander. Captain Hawkins said you were here. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” I said.

“C’mon, let’s get you up to your quarters,” he said. I followed him, pulling my gear behind me.

“Is that a real guitar?” he asked me.

“Yes sir, it is,” I told him.

“You actually play that thing?”

“I do, sir,” I said. “Been playing for years. This is the first time I’ve been allowed to bring it with me on a mission.”

“Maybe you can entertain us in the Officer’s Club one of these days,” he said with a smile.

“Maybe so. This is quite a ship,” I said as we walked down the corridor.

“Sure is,” he said. “A far cry from those tin cans you’re probably used to, eh, Commander?”

“Yes sir, it is. By the way, is it just me, or is the gravity a bit high?”

“It’s a bit higher than you’re probably used to on board ship,” he said. “Captain likes to maintain it at .95 G when the ship’s not moving. Of course, you can adjust the level in your quarters to whatever you’re comfortable with.”

As we walked, I couldn’t help but notice the difference between this vessel and every other ship I had served on. Instead of the stark utilitarian white walls covered with pipes and instrumentation, the walls of this ship were a soft, smooth pastel, with pictures and an occasional touch-screen console.

It was more like a luxury cruise ship or a hotel than anything else. I suspected that all of the wiring and plumbing were behind these walls. We entered a small lift and Cmdr. Hurbi spoke when the doors closed.

“Deck Three,” he said. “That’s the command and staff quarters,” he added as the lift began to move. When the lift stopped, I heard a female voice announce our arrival over the lift’s speaker.

“Deck Three,” the automated voice said as the doors opened. We stepped out and I noticed the carpet on the deck. Carpet? On a Corps ship? This was unheard of. I also noticed the lush green shrubbery next to the bulkheads on each side of the corridor.

Whoever designed this certainly intended to make it feel like ‘home.’ And the presence of the plants made sense to me, as they would absorb the carbon dioxide the crew exhaled while providing oxygen. We reached the hatchway to my quarters and I took note of the name already engraved on the door: Lt. Cmdr. William Jones, Chief Operations Officer. Axel reached into a pocket and pulled out a card attached to a lanyard.

“Here’s your security key,” he said. “You’ll need that for all your access, so keep it with you. Breakfast is normally ready by 0530 in the Officer’s Galley on Deck Four. Your shift starts at 0700, and the Captain likes to have her briefing at 0800. One last thing, before I forget.” He pulled out a small card and handed it to me.

“The Captain has requested the privilege of your presence for dinner in her quarters at 1800 hours,” he said. “That’s down there at the end of the corridor. She prefers dress uniform with ribbons, medals and badges. Welcome aboard, Commander. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said. “I’ll see you then.” I looked at my watch. Damn. I only had a couple hours before dinner, so I had a lot to do. Using the security badge, I opened the hatch to my quarters and got the shock of my life.

The first thing I saw was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. Her long blonde hair framed a beautiful, flawless face. Her deep blue eyes bore right through me and for a moment, I felt ... speechless. I hadn’t felt like this since the day I first met Tabby over ten years ago. I took note of her ... uniform, if that’s what it could be called.

It wasn’t like any authorized uniform I had ever seen before. Black with red piping, it was short, revealing a lot of very well-toned bare leg. The top two buttons were undone, hinting at the cleavage underneath. It hugged her curves and for a moment, I thought I was going to embarrass myself with an erection. I saw the yeoman’s emblem on her collar, sitting above two chevrons.

“Good evening, Commander Jones,” she said with a wide smile. “I’m Kyra Williams, your personal yeoman,” she added, extending a hand. I took her hand and shook it. Personal yeoman? Since when does a lieutenant commander rate a yeoman, I wondered. “Please, sir, call me Kyra,” she said.

“Um, good evening, Kyra,” I said. I suddenly realized I was still in the corridor and came into the room, pulling my gear behind me. Kyra took my bags and set them next to the wardrobe. I looked around at what would be my new home.

These quarters were at least three times the size of what I had shared with Tabby on the Armstrong. There was a large double bed against the bulkhead and to my amazement, it sat under a large porthole that included a very thick polarizing glass-like material with controls that let me darken it as much as I wished.

The room also contained a nice desk that held a workstation, a couch, a recliner and a small table with two chairs. I had my own head that included a large shower and a vanity that looked as though it came right out of a luxury hotel. A large monitor was mounted on the bulkhead across from the bed, in case I wanted to watch something before going to sleep.

I could definitely live here for the next few years, I decided to myself. Kyra interrupted my thoughts.

“If it’s okay with you, Commander, I’ll go ahead and get your uniform ready for your dinner engagement while you set up your onboard profile. Then I’ll finish stowing your gear,” she said.

“Of course,” I said. “That would be perfect, Kyra. Thanks.” I removed my uniform jacket and fired up the computer. Using the information contained in my orders, I spent the next hour or so setting up my profile on the ship’s network. I noticed that my shared drive already had several large documents and videos designed to help me get familiar with my new assignment.

After I finished that, I checked the time and realized I needed to start getting ready. Kyra had already placed my dress uniform on a hanger for me. I inspected it and found that all the medals, ribbons and badges were mounted perfectly.

I did a quick check for “Irish pennants” – those annoying little strings that sometimes pop out along the seams. I found none and figured that Kyra had already taken care of them. Perhaps, I thought, having my own yeoman isn’t such a bad idea after all. Without thinking, I began removing the rest of my travel uniform. Then I realized she was still in the room and stopped.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m not used to having a yeoman. I’ll finish up in the head.”

“That’s alright, Commander,” she said with an impish smile. “You don’t have anything I haven’t already seen before. Go ahead and finish what you need to do. Just pretend I’m not here.” I nodded my head in understanding, but went into the head to finish my business anyway. The last thing I wanted was an accusation of sexual harassment.

I showered, shaved and started dressing before realizing I had left my trousers and uniform jacket in my room. I looked at myself in the mirror and thought for a moment before opening the door. To heck with it, I thought to myself. If Kyra can’t handle seeing me in my boxers, that’s her problem.

I opened the door and walked into the room. Kyra looked at me for a moment, smiled, and went back to her work. That went well, I thought. I pulled on a t-shirt, then my trousers, shoes and socks. I didn’t need a shirt as the dress uniform jacket had a stand-up collar and buttoned all the way up to my neck.

I put the jacket on and inspected myself in the mirror. After watching me fumble with the top button for a couple minutes, Kyra came over and gave an assist. She adjusted my medals, making sure they all laid perfect, adjusted the belt around the jacket to make sure my military alignment was perfect, then stepped back to give me the once over.

“You look marvelous, Commander,” she said with a smile. “I’m sure the Captain will be very impressed.”

“I certainly hope so,” I said. “First impressions mean an awful lot.”

“Yes, they do,” she said. I took one last look at my watch and realized it was time for me to head out.

“Showtime,” I said.

“You’ll do fine, Commander,” she said with a smile. “I’ll finish up here, then I’ll take the rest of the evening off if you don’t mind. Remember, I’m right next door and if you need anything – anything at all – let me know. I’m available to you 24 hours a day, seven days a week.”

“Next door,” I said, looking where she pointed. Then it hit me. There was a hatchway between my quarters and hers. We had adjoining quarters. Interesting, I thought. “I ... I’ll keep that in mind, Kyra. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. “Now, you go have a nice dinner. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay, Kyra, I’ll see you later,” I said. I grabbed my cover and made my way down the corridor to Captain Hawkins’ quarters. When I got there, I took a deep breath and activated the door chime. The hatch slid back and I was face-to-face with a tall, lanky man in a dark uniform jacket.

“Commander Jones. Please come in, sir. Captain Hawkins is expecting you,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said. He reached out and offered to take my cover, so I handed it to him. I looked around and saw her quarters were quite larger than mine – the privilege of rank, no doubt. Her suite was also quite well-appointed and reminded me of a luxury apartment I once saw on television. There was a table set for two at one end of the living area, complete with fake candles.

When Captain Hawkins came into the room, I was shocked. Instead of her uniform, she wore a very nice gown that fell just below her knees. One shoulder was bare and as she moved, I could see a slit in one side of the gown that appeared to go well above her waist. As far as I could tell, she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. I looked and saw that she wore sandals, showing off a set of well-cared for toenails. I began to wonder if this was just dinner, or if she had another agenda.

“Good evening, Commander,” she said. “Punctual and you clean up very nice. I’m impressed,” she added with a smile.

“Thank you, Captain,” I said. “And may I say you look very nice. I especially like your sandals.” She smiled as she walked toward me.

“Why thank you, Commander,” she said. “You seem to know how to make a woman feel good about herself.”

“Is anyone else joining us tonight?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “It will just be the two of us. I wanted to get to know you a bit better, both as an officer and as a man, and I thought a nice dinner would be the best way to do that. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, Captain,” I said.

“Please, when it’s just the two of us in my cabin, feel free to call me Leesa,” she said. “That is, if I can call you Bill.”

“Of course, Cap ... uh, Leesa,” I said.

“Good. Let’s sit down, shall we? I hear Jonathan has something special for us tonight,” she said. I helped her into her chair and took my place across from her as Jonathan brought two covered dishes from a cart. He set the plates down and removed the cover. The distinctive odor of freshly-grilled meat hit my nostrils.

“Filet mignon, with a side of garlic green beans and garlic mashed potatoes,” Jonathan said.

“Is this ... real meat?” I asked, shocked. Real meat was a rare commodity ever since the Great Global Warming Scare of the 2080s, and something as extravagant as filet mignon was even more rare. These days, most people consumed synthetic or vegetarian “meat.”

“Of course it is,” Leesa said, laughing. “And before you ask, yes, the rest of the crew eats this good as well. Personally, I can’t stand that fake crap they sell these days. We do carry the fake meat burgers if you’d rather have that, though.”

“No, real meat is perfect,” I said. “I’ve had my fill of fake burgers.”

“They taste like crap, but they fill you up, right?” she asked with a smile. Even Jonathon got a laugh out of that. He poured us each a glass of red wine and placed the bottle back on the table.

“If that will be all, ma’am, I’ll report back to the galley,” Jonathan said.

“That will be perfect, Jonathan,” she said. “I’ll let you know when we’re finished.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Have a good evening and enjoy your meal,” he said before leaving. I waited for her to take the first bite before digging in. I thought I had died and gone to heaven when I took the first bite of the meat.

“Nothing like real beef, is there?” she asked.

“No, there’s not,” I said.

“So, what do you think of the Enterprise so far?” she asked.

“I’m overwhelmed,” I said. “I never imagined anything like this was even possible.”

“It’s certainly a far cry from those tin cans called capsules we used to send people to space in 140 years ago, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Sure is.”

“Personally, I’m amazed anyone even survived those early flights,” she said.

“Me too,” I told her. “Can I ask a question, Leesa?”

“Sure,” she said.

“Why me? Surely there were officers more senior and experienced than me,” I said.

“Yes, there were,” she said. “And they were all considered. But none of them threw Bull Travers out of an airlock into open space.” Bull Travers was the First Officer of the Armstrong, and my immediate boss at the time. He was also the man who destroyed my marriage to Tabby.

“I’m not proud of what I did, you know,” I told her.

“I know,” she said. “Admiral Cartwright told me about you. Gave me a copy of the report by the board of inquiry. As I told you before, I’ve spoken with your superiors on that ship. When I read the report and watched the videos, though, I knew I had found my Number Two. You know, your ex-wife wasn’t the only one Travers seduced, or tried to seduce.”

“He tried it with you as well?” I asked.

“Yes, once. I kicked him square in the balls and filed a sexual harassment claim against him. That’s why he never made Captain,” she said.

“Maybe if my ex had done that when we were in the Academy, we’d still be married,” I said.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Leesa said. “You’ll never know for certain. But there’s nothing we can do about the past, is there? All we can do is deal with the here and now. I am curious about one thing, though.”

“What’s that?”

“When you hit that button to open the outer door of that airlock, did the thought of revenge ever cross your mind?” Ouch. I had a feeling Leesa’s BS meter was highly-tuned, and there would be no masking my true feelings.

“Honestly, it did,” I said.

“Any regrets?” she asked.

“At the time, the only regret I had was that Tabby wasn’t in that airlock with him,” I said. She smiled and nodded her head.

“Thank you for your honesty, Bill,” she said. “How are you handling everything, by the way?”

“Well, I’ve been told I still have some anger and trust issues,” I said.

“And the dreams? Yes, I’ve seen your last psyche eval,” she said. After the incident, I experienced a number of bad dreams. In one recurring dream, for example, it was me shot out of the airlock instead of Bull. As I looked back, I could see him and Tabby pointing at me, laughing as I went further into open space.

Before my lungs exploded, however, I would wake up, gasping for air. I hadn’t had that dream for a while, but the memory of it disturbed me a great deal and I sometimes had a very difficult time going to sleep because of it.

“They’re not as bad as they used to be,” I said. “But they still bother me from time to time.”

“I understand,” she said. “Maybe you should speak with Kyra about them.”

“Kyra? Kyra Williams? My yeoman?”

“That’s Dr. Kyra Williams. And yes, I think you should talk to her about them. I think she can help you overcome them. And your other issues.”

“She’s a doctor? What is she doing here serving as a yeoman?” I asked.

“Well, she’s not actually a yeoman, per se. She has the position, but that’s simply for purposes of the ship’s manifest. She holds a doctorate in psychology and she’s a certified counselor. She’s also working on her second doctorate. Perhaps this is a good time to explain a bit more about the Enterprise.”

“I’m all ears,” I said. Was all of this an elaborate set-up? I needed answers.

“As you have probably figured out by now, Bill, Enterprise is a highly experimental platform, in more ways than one. Naturally, our first mission is one of exploration and scientific discovery. And like every other ship in the Corps, we’re equipped to help deal with any threat to national security.

“But when this project started two years ago, Command realized that some things would have to be closely evaluated and perhaps changed, due to the nature of interstellar travel. One of those being the rules regarding fraternization. As I’m sure you’re aware, those rules are in place to maintain good order and discipline. And those rules generally work well on missions lasting a few weeks or even a few months.

“But once Enterprise launches, she won’t be anywhere near human civilization for at least five years, if everything works as planned. Under the old rules, that would mean five long years with absolutely no intimate contact whatsoever. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

“I think so,” I said.

“I’m no expert on the subject, but I understand that human beings are social creatures by nature. We need contact with others to help us remain grounded in reality. There’s 250 souls aboard this ship. Can you imagine what they would be like after five years cooped up inside this vessel with no intimate contact whatsoever with anyone?”

“There would be a lot of pent-up frustration, I’m sure,” I told her.

“Exactly,” she said. “So, Command has given me a great deal of leeway to adjust those rules to meet our particular needs. We’ve gone to great pains to make sure the crew is as balanced as possible. Every demographic has been carefully considered in the selection of this crew. I can tell you we have the most capable crew in the entire Corps. And I can also tell you there is absolutely no excuse for anyone to feel alone while we’re deployed. Unless, of course, they deliberately choose to be alone.”

“Why not just assign married crew members?” I asked.

“That was considered, but rejected after what happened to you on the Armstrong. The last thing any of us wanted was a bunch of pissed off spouses at each other’s throats in such close quarters with no escape. That would probably do more to damage morale than anything else,” she said.

“That makes sense,” I said.

“Yes, especially given the divorce rate in the Corps is almost twice that in the civilian world,” she said. “We did, however, decide to keep the rules in place for command and staff officers. I’m sure you’re aware of the ancient saw that says familiarity breeds contempt?”

“I am,” I told her.

“So, we developed the concept of a ‘companion’ for those officers. Someone who isn’t necessarily part of the chain of command, but someone who is as compatible with the officer as humanly possible,” she told me. “You remember the profiling you went through when you first went to Advanced Ops School?”

“I remember filling out a bunch of forms and questionnaires and giving a DNA sample. I remember speaking to a Corps psychologist, and I remember going through some sort of hynotherapy. I don’t recall anyone calling it profiling. I was told they were building up my psyche folder for later use. I was never told the results of that, though,” I said.

“That was the profiling. Dr. Williams – Kyra – helped put that all together. She also helped analyze the results. When she saw her name at the top of your compatibility list, she instantly volunteered to be your companion on this assignment.”

“Wait, you’re saying that her and I are ‘compatible?’ What, exactly, does that mean? And she put her career on hold to be here with me?” Leesa nodded her head.

“Yes, she put her career on hold for you. Like you, she’s been burned by a cheating spouse. As for compatibility, the test identified the two of you as being, for all practical purposes, soul mates. Don’t ask me to explain it. All I know is that it works.” So, I thought. Perhaps that explained my reaction to her earlier.

“Do you have one of these ... companions?” I asked Leesa.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” she said. “His name is George Herman. He has a degree in quantum mechanics and astrophysics. Like Kyra, he volunteered to join me on this mission. In fact, he’s in his quarters getting ready for our date.”

“Date?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “After dinner, we’re going to the club on Galileo Station for some drinks and some dancing. After that...”

“Well, that explains the dress,” I said with a smile. She smiled in return.

“Yes, it does,” she said. “I didn’t want to keep him waiting, so I decided to wear it for our dinner. I hope you didn’t get the wrong idea.”

“Well, I have to admit, I was ... surprised,” I said.

“Smart, and diplomatic, I see,” she said with a smile.

“I take it Commander Hurbi has a companion also,” I said.

“Yes, a sweet little thing named Myra,” she said. “She’s an artist who also dabbles in interior design. She painted quite a few of the pictures you may have seen on the ship, and she helped with the layout of the quarters.”

“So, what will Dr. Williams be doing when she’s not analyzing me?” I asked.

“She has volunteered to help provide counseling services to the crew when she’s not working on her doctoral thesis. But her number one task, quite frankly, is keeping you sane, and content. She’s not here to analyze you. Don’t forget that.”

“And how far can this relationship go?” I asked her.

“As far as the two of you want,” Leesa said. I considered that as I finished the last couple bites on my plate. Leesa pulled the cart toward her and took off two small plates.

“Ah, I see Jonathan has given us some cheesecake for dessert. He makes the best cheesecake.” She put a plate in front of me, then took the other for herself. I took a bite and was impressed. This was the best cheesecake I had ever eaten.

“I understand you have a seventh-degree black belt in Grav Tac,” she said as we ate. Grav Tac was a form of martial arts designed specifically for use in mid to low-gravity. I had just qualified for my latest belt before graduating from Advanced Operations School.

“Yes, I do,” I said.

“Wonderful. Maybe you can hold some classes for the crew. I’ve always been interested in learning something about it.” Technically, I was qualified to teach the form from the time I received my fifth-degree belt, but I was a bit nervous as I had never taught anyone before.

“Of course,” I said nervously.

“I take it you’ve never taught anyone before?” she asked.

“No, I haven’t,” I said.

“Well, then I guess this will be a perfect opportunity for you to grow as a leader,” she said with a smile.

“I suppose so,” I told her.

When we finished, she called for Jonathan to collect the tray and the dishes. A few minutes later, the door chime sounded off and she answered it, letting Jonathan in the cabin.

“I hope dinner was satisfactory,” he said as he put everything on the tray.

“It was perfect as always, Jonathan, thank you,” Leesa said.

“Good,” he said. “We have prime rib on the menu for tomorrow night. I hope you like prime rib, Commander.”

“Prime rib?” I asked, surprised. “I love prime rib! And that cheesecake was wonderful.”

“I’m glad to hear that, sir,” he said. “Nothing but the best for my officers. Well, good night, Captain, Commander,” he said as he wheeled the tray out of the room. I turned to Leesa.

“Thank you for dinner, Leesa, I enjoyed it,” I said.

“As did I, Bill. I also enjoyed our discussion. Now, I’d better go see to George. I’ll see you on the bridge at 0700 sharp,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, collecting my cover. She walked me to the hatch and closed it after I left. I had a lot going through my mind as I walked the few feet to my quarters. When I entered my cabin, I saw Kyra turning down the covers on my bed. I also noticed she had changed into something considerably shorter and more transparent than the “uniform” she had on earlier. I also noticed the only thing she wore under it was a tiny pair of panties that left nothing to the imagination. She turned to look at me as I entered.

“How was dinner, sir?” she asked quietly.

“It was excellent, Kyra, thanks for asking,” I said as I began to remove my uniform jacket. I hung it up in the wardrobe and removed my shoes and trousers, placing them in the wardrobe as well.

“I’m glad, sir,” she said as she handed me a robe. I put it on and looked at her. God, she was so beautiful, so graceful. I could see everything she had to offer and I was tempted to just take her in my arms and make love to her on the spot.

“You don’t need to call me ‘sir,’ Kyra,” I told her. “My friends call me Bill. I’d like it if you called me Bill as well.”

“Thank you, Bill,” she said. “I’d like that as well. I took the liberty of making some hot chocolate. I find it helps me relax. Would you care to share a cup with me?”