Happy to Assist
Posted on Wed Sep 17th, 2025 @ 8:35am by Captain Jelane Shiqwue & Lieutenant Junior Grade Galen Trellis
Edited on on Tue Sep 30th, 2025 @ 9:25am
1,442 words; about a 7 minute read
Mission:
Episode 16 - Silent Cries
Location: The Hive - Deck 14 - Docking Ring - Empok Nor
Timeline: MD008 1500 hrs
The Hive lived up to its name. The docking ring’s wide corridor was alive with the buzz of activity—Marine pilots in flight gear striding between briefing rooms, engineering crews carting tools and components, and the low hum of voices overlaid with the faint metallic tang of coolant from open panels.
Lieutenant j.g. Galen Trellis moved through the organized chaos with practiced precision, eyes scanning the space almost automatically. His mind noted potential choke points, lines of fire, and unsecured access hatches before he forced himself to focus on the reason he was here—not Dorian’s tactical instincts, but his own mission.
Through the transparisteel wall, Galen caught sight of two Valkyrie-class fighters suspended in mid-service, nacelles stripped open and navigational arrays exposed like bones under surgery lights.
He drew a breath, smoothed his uniform, and stepped inside.
Jelane had been moving about the flight deck as she gave orders to the deck crew. She was amazed at how these spacecrafts had fallen into disrepair. Just as she showed someone the damage to her own craft she noticed a red uniform in the sea of green. hmmm a Trill by the look of him and not too bad looking. But, what the hell does he want with my flight deck. she thought. She approached the man with a determined look. "Lieutenant, what brings you to the Hive?"
Galen straightened slightly as the Marine approached, his posture instinctively shifting to something more formal—a habit that belonged more to Dorian than himself, but one that served him well in mixed company. He offered a crisp nod of acknowledgment.
"Lieutenant j.g. Galen Trellis, USS Pioneer—currently wondering aimlessly since my ship is away on mission." He said with a slight air of annoyance.
He gestured toward the suspended Valkyries with a practiced eye. "Glinn Kalim suggested I offer my services to your unit. I have experience with Marine fighter-craft operations."
His gaze moved briefly over the exposed systems of the nearest fighter, and for a moment something shifted in his expression—the kind of focused assessment that came from intimate familiarity with such machines. Dorian had spent three years with the 47th Tactical Fighter Squadron before transferring to the Fleet.
Galen's attention returned to the Marine officer, and he allowed himself a slight, wry smile. "I understand you're dealing with some maintenance challenges. I thought I might be able to contribute something useful while the Pioneer is away. That is, if you can use an extra pair of hands."
—or an extra set of memories. He thought to himself.
Her head turned in his direction with such speed the Jelane's long dark tresses tossed. "Kalim sent you down here, glad to see that ole you know what is finally doing something right. What do you know about gyro navigational arrays?" Then a moment later she snapped her fingers. "Sorry, I am Captain Jelane the Commander of the Air Group around these parts. But you can call me Firefly, everyone else does." The Bajoran woman smiled as she gave her flight name. She was proud of that moniker.
Galen's expression shifted slightly at her words, something harder flickering behind his eyes—a shadow that didn't quite belong to him but had become part of him nonetheless. Internally, Dorian's memories stirred: Cardassians. Three years of watching friends die because of their tactics, their betrayals. Those memories don't fade...
"You know who," he repeated, his tone carefully neutral. "I saw him in his office earlier. Drinking." He left it at that, but the weight of unspoken judgment hung in the air.
Galen forced himself to refocus, gesturing toward the exposed navigational arrays on the nearest Valkyrie. "But you're right—someone did do something right with these fighters, despite whatever maintenance issues you're facing now." His voice took on a more technical tone, the tension easing slightly as he shifted into familiar territory.
"Those gyro navigational arrays—in the past, I've spent months working with similar systems. The Mark VII arrays are temperamental, but they're incredibly precise when properly calibrated. The problem is usually in the quantum stabilization matrix—it drifts over time, especially under combat stress. Most techs try to compensate with software patches, but the real fix is in the hardware alignment."
He stepped closer to the suspended fighter, his eyes tracking the exposed components with practiced familiarity. "I can spot drift patterns in the stabilization feedback just by looking at the diagnostic readouts. It's not exactly standard helm training, but when you've troubleshot these systems under fire..." He shrugged, the gesture carrying years of hard-earned experience.
Jelane smiled, it looked more like a smirk due to the crookedness of her smile. "Well then Lieutenant you are my new best friend. Like I always say once a stick jock always a stick jock. Lets get to work. We have to get these space worthy within the next couple of days. I know you are not officially assigned here, however the Pioneer is not here. If it would make you feel better I can have you temporarily assigned to the Hive. Whatever makes you feel more comfortable."
She stopped at the nose of the fighter and touched it as one may touch a pet. "We need to take care of this one. She is mine." The word "Firefly" was stencilled just below the front window.
Galen followed her hand as it rested on the fighter’s nose, his gaze settling on the name stenciled just below the cockpit—Firefly. A fitting call sign, he thought, not just for the streak of stubborn energy in her posture, but for the fighter too. It had the look of something that had burned through hell and come out glowing.
He gave a nod of quiet respect.
"Then we’ll start with yours," he said simply. "Better the devil you know."
He crouched beside the open panel, eyes scanning the exposed guts of the fighter. He didn’t poke or prod yet—just listened. The layout, the residue, the stress marks—they all told a story.
"Alignment drift’s worse than it looks. You’ve been flying her with the lateral stabilizers running hot, haven’t you?" He glanced over his shoulder. "I can see the thermal buildup on the coil mounts. She’s working overtime to compensate in tight maneuvers."
He paused, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"You’ve been pushing her hard. Not judging—just impressed."
"There has been a never ending flow of threats to this station believe it or not. Sadly we have had little time for repairs and it is beginning to show." Jelane dug through the panel on the other side and began to calibrate the targeting sensors. "I am sure that once the Pioneer arrives you will find yourself pushing that Intrepid Class past its specs." She added with a wink.
Straightening, he stepped back from the panel, rolling his shoulders like he was getting ready for a long day’s work.
"I can recalibrate the nav array, re-center the quantum matrix, and sync the coils across the board. If she’s still got fight left in her, she’ll fly smoother than she has in months. Maybe years."
He hesitated just long enough to glance around the deck again—like the place had started to grow on him already.
"And yeah... temporary assignment would help. Better than waiting around for Pioneer to remember I exist."
"Well then I think we should get to it. Sounds like you have this well at hand. I will take care of the paperwork for the temporary assignment." Jelane found it rather refreshing for an officer who wanted to jump in feet first and get it done. It seemed that Galen had the mind of a Marine.
Galen gave a sharp nod, the kind that came from habit rather than protocol.
"Appreciate it, Captain." A faint smirk tugged at his mouth as he turned back to the open panel. "But let’s be honest—if I waited on Fleet paperwork before getting things done, half the quadrant would still be in drydock."
He grabbed a hydrospanner from the nearby tool tray and ducked under the fighter’s nose, already working the access ports with practiced ease.
A Joint Post By
Lieutenant Junior Grade Galen Trelis
Chief Flight Control Officer, USS Pioneer
Captain Jelane 'Firefly' Shiqwue
Commander Air Group, 2738th Marine Fighter Squadron
Empok Nor
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