Mutual Support
Posted on Sun Apr 12th, 2026 @ 7:02pm by Ensign Julia Vonner
1,074 words; about a 5 minute read
Mission:
EPISODE 1: SHAKEDOWN
Location: USS Santorini — Argelius Sector
Timeline: Two weeks prior to MD001
“Ensign Vonner, get us vectored onto the first waypoint. Standby for one-quarter impulse power,” instructed Commander Michael Prisk. Santorini’s chief flight controller and executive officer sat just over half a meter to her immediate left in the command chair, a layout peculiarity that unsettled her during her inceptive months aboard.
“Aye, sir,” Julia evenly acknowledged as she deftly input RCS thruster bursts to pirouette the ship onto its new course, monitoring the progress of the maneuver on her readouts. A faint inertia shift lent physical corroboration that instigated another telltale.
“Wheeee. . .” intoned Lieutenant j.g. Mariah Ta from the Engineering station at the port rear side, bracing exaggeratedly against its standing console.
“Stop that,” Julia grumbled like an aggravated mother might to a child needling at her concentration, save for a faint smile.
“You first,” retorted Mariah, mien mimicking the young helmswoman.
“Can’t. Orders.” Julia levelled out Santorini with timely thruster bursts. “Your excuse?”
“Making sure we don’t give Chief Zhaetis a reason to come up here,” Mariah murmured during her own string of console inputs, a weightier answer than Julia expected.
“Impulse engines ready, Commander,” the junior engineer added in response to an earlier direction to prime them for propulsive operation.
“Light ‘em, Ensign,” he ordered.
“Applying one-quarter impulse power,” Julia acknowledged despite her lingering intrigue, ambient din rising concurrently with her advance of both thrust slides. Santorini’s subsequent acceleration to tens of thousands of kilometers per second rapidly rendered Relay Station 16 another indistinguishable dot within the vast starfield depicted on the viewer.
Someone put a hand on her shoulder, unexpected given her recollection of her bridgemates’ positions though ultimately not perturbing.
“Morning, Julia,” lilted Lieutenant Aiden Murtagh, assistant chief flight controller. “Mind if I take over?”
“Should I, Lieutenant?” Julia asked with mock pointedness, a glance at the red-scripted chronometer on the starboard wall helping her figure that his inquiry was three hours premature.
“No,” Murtagh answered. “Commander Prisk said you refused liberty, so I figured I’d let you burn off some of that pesky sense of duty before running it at you again. And before you bleat about it being a bother, it’s not.” He then knelt into her periphery. “You’re relieved. Go. Get squared away with my thanks.”
“Thank you, sir,” Julia said from behind a beam she couldn’t suppress, conscious of the implication behind investing his off time in her. Mariah had joked that Commander Prisk’s liberty offer was to quell her mitigating influence on his severity, but Julia had learned over the last three years that he nor Lieutenant Murtagh conceded to people they didn’t value.
Prisk reaffirmed that wisdom with an approving nod when her gaze found him as she relinquished the helm. He then ribbed his deputy about his sobriety to fly. The subsequent banter would’ve had Julia’s attention any other time. However, the realization of this possibly being her last time here as a duty officer hijacked her focus, leaving her to linger reflectively. A PADD laid reverently in her personal locker decreed why: Santorini's scheduled berthing at the Luna Shipyards next week would denote the first transfer of her career, the destination for which her CO described as one half the fleet was unofficially waitlisted for.
“Vonner!” beckoned a familiar whisper. Sure enough, Mariah validated Julia's turn her way with a wave into her cove.
“Didn't you say Chief Zhaetis began her sleep cycle yesterday?” Julia rekindled her concern for Mariah’s fretful aura with a similarly hushed volume despite closing to within an arm’s length, not wanting to impose undue disruption.
“Not as much a guarantee of her staying below as you might think,” Mariah replied. “Kaferians are highly susceptible to vibration, even during their sleep cycles. Evolutionary response to danger and such. Learned that from her, in fact,” she reiterated of her familiarity with Zhaetis, which she dated to her midshipman cruise five years ago.
“Are you minding that out of consideration or subversion?” Julia knew the insectoid engineer’s assignment to Santorini had irked some of the other engineering officers since they expected the vacancy left by her predecessor to be filled internally. Mariah on the other hand had been unusually mum on the matter.
“Both.” Mariah looked up from her work to Julia, whose glared askance prompted a conciliatory raising of her hands in recognition of having piqued her friend's loathing of discord among shipmates. Occasionally, the combination of the younger woman's above-average stature and her bluish eyes' inherent intensity aligned to belie her lowly rank and modest nature.
“Fine. I’ll be nice. Promise. The captain met with the rest of engineering last night and asked us to support her. Plus, you won’t be here to bat those pretty eyes if I make their naughty list.”
While several factors incited Julia shaking her head, her response was focused. “I’d think you’d have other incentives to avoid trouble. Don’t you have to solve problems rather than create them to make chief engineer?”
“Cute.” Mariah simpered. “Give an Ensign an Excelsior named for a Greek deity, and she waxes wise and witty.”
“All your fault,” Julia cooed, cupping Mariah’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
A blush broke through Mariah’s tawny complexion. "Not all. Pretty sure you substantiated the hype around you, kid." She clearly grasped the tonal shift, reticent posture notwithstanding.
“You encouraged me toward it. I’d still be excited just to make EVA detail otherwise.”
Mariah put a hand atop Julia’s. “And you’d still have been the best transport and retrieval pilot in aftward space. Some other malcontent would've rode recommending you for the bridge rotation to their own promotion, and this scene would be playing out with them instead."
"I see taking compliments is still a work in progress," Julia laughed.
"They still feel icky. But if your conscience insists on giving me flowers, there’s a specific one I'd like.”
“What?”
“You making Lieutenant by the time Santorini returns to active service."
Julia tilted her head, baffled given Mariah's checkered perception of rank. She also didn't think it something she could influence ethically or without the sort of emphasis both women found distasteful.
Mariah chuckled at the rumination flickering across Julia's face. "Keep doing what you have been and it'll all come together."
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