Hit the deck running...

Posted on Wed Feb 11th, 2026 @ 9:37pm by Commander Scarlet Blake & Petty Officer 1st Class Kaelen Jax

2,398 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Prologue: To Boldly Go
Location: USS Fenrir - Captain's Ready Room
Timeline: Day 13

ON:

Blake scrolled down the record on the PADD, more than just a little relieved to have another crew member make it before launch. She'd been promised the roster she'd signed off on, and so far, there were still a few en route. Not enough to be *concerning*, but enough to make her arch an eyebrow.

PO1 Kaelen Jax. She glanced to the time; he was due any minute. He seemed like a skilled engineer with a cool head to match, but she'd met every crew member who was new to her so far, and she didn't intend to stop now. Besides, she'd learnt that she could find out so much more about a person when she let them talk, rather than just reading their file.

Kaelen arrived exactly on time, not because he was anxious, but because he possessed a Risan’s natural sense of rhythm and a Betazoid’s awareness of other people’s schedules.

He stood outside the Ready Room for a moment, centering himself. Meeting a Commanding Officer was always a different "frequency" than meeting an XO or a Counselor. A Captain’s mind usually carried the weight of the entire ship; on a Norway-class like the Fenrir, that weight was often focused, sharp, and intensely protective.

The doors parted, and Kaelen stepped into the sunlight-filtered room.
"Petty Officer 1st Class Kaelen Jax, reporting as ordered, Captain," he said. He didn't offer the stiff, nervous energy of a new recruit. Instead, he carried the grounded, quiet confidence of a man who had spent a decade in the guts of starships.

His solid black eyes met Captain Blake’s. He could feel the "arch" in her thoughts—the slight, lingering tension of a commander still waiting for her full roster. He offered a small, respectful tilt of his head.

"I understand I’m one of the last puzzle pieces to click into place before we're fully underway, Ma'am," Kaelen said, his voice soft and melodic. "I apologize for the late arrival. The transport from the Mjolnir had a minor issue with their inertial dampers. I ended up spending most of the flight in their crawlspace helping their Chief get them back online. It seemed a better use of the time than sitting in the lounge."

He moved to the chair she indicated, sitting with a relaxed but attentive posture. He didn't wait for her to ask the first question; he knew she was looking for the person behind the PADD.

"The Fenrir is a fine ship, Captain. I’ve already been through the LSS arrays on Decks 3 and 4. She’s got some character, a few stubborn valves and a slightly temperamental atmospheric mix, but nothing a bit of attention won't fix. I suspect you’ve got a crew that matches her: high-performance, even if they're a bit tightly wound right now."

He smiled, a gentle expression that carried a hint of his empathic warmth. "I’m here to make sure the ship stays breathing, so you can focus on where we’re going."

"Always good to know, for any Captain, but even more so in my case," Blake decided to be honest and open, as she had been with the other crew members who had his expertise and the lives of the entire crew in their hands. "I don't come from an Engineering or Ops background. My First Officer, however, does. So it's important to me that I have the strongest team in place, and one that's not afraid to say how it is. I want a ship that works, not one that runs on hopes and dreams. I can see you're familiar with the Norway Class already though."

Kaelen shifted his weight slightly, a subtle gesture of relaxation. He could feel the Captain’s honesty. It had a clear, direct resonance that he found refreshing. On a ship as compact as the Fenrir, pretension was a luxury no one could afford, and he appreciated that the CO wasn’t trying to feign technical expertise she didn't possess.

"The Norway's a 'loud' ship, Ma'am," Kaelen replied, his voice maintaining that calm, Risan-tinted lilt. "In every sense of the word. The hull is thin, the power-to-weight ratio is aggressive, and you can feel every pulse of the warp core in your teeth if the dampeners aren't tuned just right. But that’s why I like them. They don't hide their problems from you. They tell you exactly where it hurts."

He met her gaze with his solid black eyes, his expression open.

"I can promise you this, Captain: I’m not much for hopes and dreams when it comes to life support. I prefer high-pressure seals and well-maintained bio-filters. You’ll get the truth from me, even if it’s not particularly convenient. If the air starts tasting like stale replicator rations, I’ll be the first to tell you why, and the first one in the tubes to fix it."

He paused, a flicker of a smile returning.

"And since the Commander has an Ops background, he’ll likely appreciate that I’ve already 'tuned' the atmospheric mix on Deck 4. The sensors might show a slight humidity climb, but the crew’s cognitive function usually improves by about four percent when they aren't breathing desert air. I figured a strong team works better when they aren't reaching for water every ten minutes."

The corner of Blake's lips tugged in a silent chuckle at him having gotten his hands dirty already, and she tilted her head in acknowledgment. She would never be one to underappreciate even 1% more efficiency in the crew. "Tell me about yourself, Mister Jax," she replied instead. It was an intentionally open question. She always learnt a lot about a person from what they chose to lead with when asked to talk about themselves. It could be interpreted in so many ways. There was no right or wrong answer, of course, but the ex-counsellor was always curious.

Kaelen didn't answer immediately. He let the question hang for a moment, not out of hesitation, but because he was actually listening. As an empath, he didn't just hear her words; he felt the inquisitive, open nature of the request. The fact that she was an ex-counselor wasn't lost on him, her mental presence was disciplined, yet inviting.

"Usually, Captain, people lead with my eyes," Kaelen said, his voice quiet and steady. "Or they lead with the fact that I’m twenty-five and I’ve been wearing this uniform for nearly a decade. They see the Betazoid heritage and expect a diplomat, or they see the Risan birthmark and expect a hedonist."

He stepped a little closer to the desk, his hands clasped loosely behind his back.

"But if you’re asking me who I am... I’m a man who likes to make sure the foundation is solid. My grandfather was a Chief Petty Officer, and he taught me that a starship is just a very expensive tin can if the people inside can't breathe or keep their heads clear. I don't care much for the spotlight or the center chair. I like the 'hum' of a ship that’s running perfectly. I like the fact that when I do my job right, nobody even notices I’m there."

He met her gaze, his solid black eyes reflecting the soft light of the ready room.

"I’m also someone who values silence, Ma'am. Betazed was too loud for me, too many voices, too many expectations. Risa was... well, Risa is home, but Starfleet is where I found a way to use the 'noise' to be useful. I can feel when this ship is hurting before the sensors do. I lead with my hands and my senses. Everything else is just DNA and service years."

He paused, a flicker of that dry Risan humor returning to his expression.

"And, for what it’s worth, I make a decent cup of Tarkalean tea. Though I suspect you'll find my 'unauthorized' humidity adjustments a more valuable contribution to the morning watch."

"Oh I don't know, a day just doesn't feel right if it doesn't start with a cup of tea," Blake replied in a moment of glibness. But it gave her a chance to just watch him for a long moment, take him in. A man with a foot in two different cultures. That was proud of his position and hard work. She had met plenty of marines in her time who made their jokes about never being an officer because they wanted to work for a living. While she felt his tune on leadership may well change one day, he certainly had that energy about him. Only, it didn't come across as a jibe at the officers, as it sometimes did with the marines, no, it was with an honesty about who he was and where he had come from. "So what *are* your ambitions?" she finally asked.

Kaelen leaned back slightly, his grandfather’s heavy wrench shifting against his leg with a metallic clink. He recognized that look in the Captain’s eyes, the way she was "reading" him, layering her experience as a counselor over the conversation. Most enlisted men would have felt scrutinized, but Kaelen just found it familiar.

"My ambitions?" Kaelen repeated, the word sounding strange even to him. He looked toward the viewport, where the stars were nothing more than streaks of light against the void.

"In the short term, Captain, my ambition is to make sure the Fenrir never has a sensor-ghost in the life support grid. I want this ship to be the gold standard for atmospheric stability in the fleet. I want to be the Chief Petty Officer that every Engineer in this sector calls when they can’t figure out why their O2-scrubbers are vibrating at 400 hertz."

He brought his gaze back to her, his solid black eyes steady.

"But if you’re asking about the 'big picture'... I want to build a legacy that doesn't involve a rank pip. I want to refine the botanical-integration systems I’ve been working on, like the moss project I mentioned to the Commander, until every ship in Starfleet can sustain its own atmosphere without needing a drydock every six months. I want to prove that you don't need a commission to change how the fleet operates."

A small, humble smile touched his lips. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, the "Risan dreamer" peaking through the "Starfleet technician."

"I know the Academy is the standard path to 'making a difference,' Ma'am. But I’ve spent nine years in the conduits, and I’ve learned that sometimes the best way to change the ship is from the inside out, one filter at a time. I don't want a chair on the Bridge. I want a ship that breathes because I made it better."

He paused, his empathy catching a flicker of the Captain’s own thoughts on leadership.
"Maybe one day I'll find myself leading a division of a hundred technicians, and I'll have to worry about their career paths instead of their power couplings. But for now? I’m content being the man who knows exactly how this ship is feeling. That’s enough for me."

Blake nodded gently, accepting it easily. It rang true to the file she'd read and the man standing in front of her. He wasn't avoiding the question, he was answering it truthfully. "I've seen plenty of people who make a difference regardless of what pips or uniform they wear...or don't wear," she agreed, setting the PADD with his file aside before motioning to the chair opposite her, for Jax to get more comfortable.

"While you work on this ship, I will always ask for your best, in whatever form that comes," she added, shaking her head lightly at how that sounded. "And that's not a consolation, I mean it literally. I expect the absolute best from all my crew. In return, I will always do my best to train you and get you ready for the next step, whatever you want it to be. You're right, that doesn't have to be leadership, but the offer is there, should you want it."

Kael appreciated the Captain’s lack of pretense; it made the "static" in the room much easier to manage. Her promise of training and support had a clear, resonant sincerity that his empathy picked up immediately. it wasn't just a command-scripted speech; she genuinely invested in the people under her command.

"I appreciate that, Captain. Truly," Kaelen said, his voice soft but firm. "It’s been my experience that the best ships aren't the ones with the most decorated officers, but the ones where the communication between the bridge and the bilges is a two-way street. Knowing the door is open for... whatever the next step might be... it helps. Even if I’m currently more interested in the life cycle of moss than the nuances of command hierarchy."

He leaned back slightly, his jet-black eyes reflecting the soft glow of the office's lighting. The tension that usually lived in his shoulders when speaking to senior officers had almost entirely evaporated.

"I’ll give you my best, Ma'am. That's the only way I know how to work. And I'll keep an open mind about the 'next step.' Who knows? In a year or two, I might find that the 'hum' of a department is just as interesting as the hum of an engine."

He offered a subtle, respectful nod, signaling his readiness to get back to the ship's actual systems.

"If there’s nothing else for the moment, I’d like to get back to Deck 4. I have a feeling the Chef is going to have some words for me if I don't help him stabilize the refrigeration units in the Mess Hall before lunch. Apparently, they're running three degrees too warm, and it’s 'ruining the soufflé.'"

"Well we can't have that," Blake motioned to the door with a small, half smile at his eagerness to get back to work. She hadn't expected any less, but she also trusted him to know his limits, so she didn't mention it. "Dismissed. Let's not have a mutiny over a souffle before we've even left dock..."

OFF:

Commander Scarlet Blake
Commanding Officer
USS Fenrir

PO1 Kaelen Jax
Engineer
USS Fenrir

 

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