Well since it's omake time...
The Next Generation, Pt 1
CDF Ardok
2313.Q3.M1
"
Shipmaster's Documentation File, Mission Day Oh-Oh-One-Two, Fraction Twelve. The Ardok is performing beyond expectations with the latest crew rotation. In my mind's eye I can already see the fine soldiers of the Union working diligently, even in the most cramped and confined sections of the ship. Forging the bonds of brother- and sisterhood that have allowed our species to cross the cold dark between stars. I cherish every one of their bright minds, every one of them that has chosen to leave family behind and fight so far from home. I hope I can return them all safely, but we are all aware my first duty is to the state. The fact they trust me to use their lives well in service to the greater whole only makes me honor them more.
Of some note to me is my new Weapons Officer, Dal Kivaas. He graduated in the top percentile of the Academy, and went through Legate Dukat's grueling special tactics course. He is, by all accounts, an obsessive on Federation ship designs."
"Red Leaf Tea, Kivaas?"
Kivaas blinked, looking away from the terrarium in one corner of Gul Piten's office. Inside it a furred, slender thing with many legs scuttled over scattered wood and rocks, iridescent in the dim light.
"Of course, sir." He said. Piten smiled and poured into a metallic mug from a carafe. Kivaas took it gratefully, sipping the spicy-warm mixture. "Thank you."
"I've been looking over your file," Piten said, "There are warm regards from Legate Dukat there. I'm not surprised to see why. Top marks in your academic courses, a desire to go through the grueling 'will-fail' scenarios. Many other neophytes gave up, I am to understand."
Kivaas nodded, giving the Gul a practiced, cocksure smile, "I had an excellent teacher. I knew it must be winnable -- no one would be so sadistic as to design a test with no solution."
Piten chuckled, "A man of your academic background must know the Federation does." He fixed Kivaas with a warm, but penetrating gaze.
Kivaas tilted his head up, regarding the paunchy, slightly balding man in front of him in a different light, "You'll forgive me, Gul. Very few shipmasters care to study the Federation. Fewer still would have caught that subtle joke."
"Too few, I think." Piten said, "But that is the glorious design of our state. They provide a foundation of truth that motivates everyone to one singular goal. And if you wish to dig deeper to broaden your studies, you may, if it makes you more canny. And the Obsidian Order is always waiting for if it does not."
Kivaas nodded politely. He remembered things Tragess had whispered to him in the quiet dark of the night, rumors of rogue captains and embarrassing breaches. Of hollow-eyed orphans recruited to do dark deeds. Was this the shipmaster's own joke? Even if it was, it was not Kivaas' place to call it. Instead he smiled at Piten. "They do a difficult job." He said, sipping at his tea.
"Hm. Very measured words, Kivaas. I see now how you climbed so quickly to Dal." Piten sipped his own, "Although I'd like to return again to your studies. I am to understand you know the inside workings of every known Starfleet vessel?" He quirked an eyebrow, "Engineering details are usually left to women, are they not?"
Kivaas kept his smile tight as he shifted slightly in his seat, "Legate Dukat always said when she teaches soldiers, she teaches them anatomy. It's more efficient to kill someone if you know exactly where the heart is. The same goes for ships, really."
The door buzzed before Piten could respond. "Come in!" He said.
The door opened to reveal a Cardassian woman, hair perfectly coiffed and the rank of Glinn on the script running down her armor. "Shipmaster." She said. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"No, Rurlam. Come in." She crossed the floor briskly, grabbing a chair and turning the back towards Piten, then sliding into it. "Kivaas was just telling me," Piten said, apparently accustomed to this quirk, "That Dukat helped develop his female side."
Rurlam looked over at Kivaas, the mirth in her eyes seeming to cool. "Is that so."
"Piten is making a joke about the Engineering training I've undergone. They want to keep the next generation of officers well-rounded."
"I was thinking you two should get to know each other better," Piten said, "I am sure Kivaas' learned technical knowledge could be a boost to your operations planning. He wouldn't require the catching up of some of the other boys."
"How very useful you could be, indeed, Mr. Kivaas." Rurlam said, giving him a lopsided smile. "I will have to make sure you are invited to the weekly gaming nights."
Unstated in the room was that Rurlam had some of the lowest technical skill scores of her cohort. In fact, her own sister was an engineer working on the next generation of Cardassian weapons systems.
"But that's not why I'm here, sir." Rurlam said, tearing an increasingly baleful gaze off Kivaas, "We've detected a Federation resupply ship. We've moved to intercept them as part of our interdiction protocols and have attracted the interest of one of the
Constituent Flight Twos."
Kivaas coughed, "
Constitution Model B's, Glinn."
Rurlam gave him a friendly glare, "Yes. Whatever the particular name, it will intercept us before we can intercept the cargo ship."
Piten took the information in with a calm regard, downing the rest of his tea in a single gulp, "Doubtful they'll want to let us inspect the cargo ship." A wry gleam came to his eye, one that radiated a sort of mischievous warmth, "Of course, we don't want them to. That would be an excellent asset to remove. And Central Command has been looking for a chance to bloody them since they've assaulted our Sydraxian allies so heavily." He stood, tugging his uniform down, "Set Ready Condition throughout the ship, and preposition teams for combat. Work closely with Kivaas, Rurlam. He knows that vessel out there better than anyone onboard, myself included."
"Yes, sir." Rurlam said through clenched teeth.
