A Tall Ship and a Star to Steer Her By

Posted on Sat Aug 28th, 2021 @ 11:03am by Lieutenant Aiko Kato

Mission: Breen in Paradise
Location: Bridge
Timeline: After Departure From DS9

The Bridge of the Washington was quiet. Aiko was unsure if this was normally how the crew functioned, but she could not help but notice how eerily quiet it was. On the Scylax there would have been idle chatter by now, if not started by the Captain himself, then inevitably by one of the other Bridge officers.

If nothing else, there was always one of Ensign Bentley’s interpretive dances, Lieutenant Brightright’s most recent take on Klingon opera, or even one of Commander Pegg’s poker tournament from the night before to talk about…

Aiko paused smiling to herself. She reminded herself for the umpteenth time that this was the USS Washington and not the Scylax.

Although still new, having only been on the ship for several hours, she had heard that some crewmembers had been injured in the last mission, and an officer was significantly injured that they required significant medical intervention that even the brilliant Doctor Bashir could not address on DS9.

Aiko knew the feeling of loss and helplessness that was unfortunately part of the job description. So, in that respect, she certainly understood the quiet and somber mood on the Bridge.

In times like this, the best she could do was continue to do her job diligently and so she rededicated her focus to the helm station.

Her fingers flew elegantly across the console which was displaying a sophisticated suite of information related to the navigation of the ship. She had customized the display to her preference and knew where to find every minutia detail about the ship’s position, course, speed and navigational environment.

In the somberness of the moment, she almost forgot that this was her first time at the helm of a Sovereign class starship, making this the twentieth Federation starship she had flown in her lifetime.

The Washington was a very fine ship. It was bigger than the Intrepid class starship that she was used to, but she was getting better acquainted with the size and sophisticated design of the ship with each passing hour it seemed.

The Washington also had some impressive engines. Although Aiko was yet to make her customary trip to engineering to get a closer look at the engines of the ship she was piloting, she had read up on the specifications of the vessel. She knew for instance that the Washington like all her sisters in the Sovereign class had a newer warp engine design that gave it a very high warp cruising speed and a maximum cruising speed that effectively made it one of the fastest ships in Starfleet.

The impulse engines as well were top-notch, which along with the reaction control system, gave the ship a manevuerability rating higher than a ship of its size. She was in essence a big ship with the agility of a much smaller ship, which was a crucial advantage in close combat.

All of this and more were what Aiko was quickly and deftly familiarizing herself with. She was yet to meet with most of her colleagues in the flight control department she was now part of, but she suspected that would come in due time. There had not been much time to schedule that in before the ship departed DS9 – now several hours ago on the way to Casperia Prime.

Aiko could have opted to have another pilot fly the ship while she got slowly familiar with the Washington, but in true fashion, she had selfishly claimed the piloting gig. Besides, the best way to learn about the ship – and crew for that matter – was to be at the helm of the ship, steering it on course towards its destination.

This was precisely where she would want to be any time. Strange as it was, this was her happy place – her Neverland...her fortress of solitude. No amount of latinum could ever dissuade her from being here.

Aiko was reminded of one of her favourite poems – Sea-Fever by John Masefield and she began reciting it in her mind from memory:


I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.