Star Trek Online Downbelow

**Downbelow**

"I believe that stone belongs to me, sir." The red-uniformed Klingon JG across the table growled in frustration and took a pull on his glass of Romulan ale as the blue-shirted brunette petty officer with almond-shaped eyes removed the captured stone from the _go_ board, grinning.

Ten Forward on the USS _Bajor_ was reasonably uncrowded this time of day. The panoramic viewport on the front was dark, lit only by streaming stars as the vessel warped towards a transwarp conduit and the front lines of the Federation-Klingon War. Hardly what Petty Officer, Second Class Juno Ichigaki had enlisted for eight years earlier—the Japanese-South African was a geologist by training, not a soldier. But as the Alpha and Beta Quadrants slid ever further into chaos and more and more of Starfleet's resources were diverted to its military functions, it was much harder to avoid getting assigned to the front lines.

The Klingon, K'lak, twitched an eye at her, then placed a white stone on the replicated spruce _go_ board. Juno drew a black stone and fitted it into the formation she was building with a clack. K'lak started to play a stone but the intercom interrupted with an recording of an ancient bosun's whistle. Juno recognized the command to listen up, and turned in her chair to the cluster of screens hanging from the ceiling at the center of the lounge.

An athletically built Bajoran woman with flaming red hair and two parallel scars marring her left cheek appeared on the screen, lounging in the captain's chair on the bridge. "All right, I'll try to keep this reasonably short. Some of you know me; most of you don't. I'm Kanril Eleya, your _illustrious_ captain." Juno snickered at the Bajoran's tone. "I'm setting some ground rules. Rule number one, don't call me 'sir'. I _hate_ that. You need to talk to me, address me as 'ma'am' or 'Captain'."

"Well, that's easy enough," a sandy-haired Bajoran redshirt said from the bar.

"Rule number two, I have an open-door policy. You have a serious concern, bring it to me. If I'm doing something stupid, I want to know about it. If one of my officers is doing something stupid, I want to know about it. And if you think one of _my_ superiors is doing something stupid, I want to know about it. If you're right, I will back you to the hilt even if it means going up against C-in-C Starfleet or the President, even. However, there's one exception.

"Rule number three, hand-to-hand and weapons drills are mandatory for all specialties. That means _you_, Astrometrics. I've been getting reports from Lieutenant Korekh that some of you have been shirking. That stops _now_. I run a loose ship as long as the work gets done, but this _is_ a combat starship. Next person to skip combat practice or battle drill without a note from Doctor Wirrpanda, I dock a week's pay from their whole section. Person after that, I dock two. You can do the math." There were some open jaws around the room at this, including Juno's. "Ditto vacsuit and hull breach drills, such as the one we'll be running in three hours." Kanril glared into the camera. "This is not negotiable. Cross me on this and I'll bust you so low you'll need the _Bajor_'s main sensor array to see above E-1.

"Fourth, an announcement. Lieutenant Korekh is forming an assault unit for emergencies. Combat experience is preferred, but we will take anyone with an A-minus or better on combat evals. That about covers it. We'll hit the transwarp conduit in four hours and we'll be at Deep Space K-7 soon after. Have a nice evening. Kanril out."

The screen flicked back to a football match that had been playing before the captain interrupted it. Juno let out a breath. "Eish! She's a firebrand, isn't she?"

"Younger than I expected," the redshirt from the bar said, bringing over a half-full bottle of Romulan ale.

"What is that?"

"I dunno, Romulan Republic stuff. Somebody named t'Thavrau. Weird aftertaste," the Bajoran added, eying the label.

"Probably khellid honey, Senior Chief," K'lak said.

"How do you know that, sir?" the Bolian gunnery chief sitting backwards on his chair next to them asked.

"There was a Romulan expat family near where I grew up on Ajilon Prime," K'lak said, placing a stone, then refilling his glass. "They raised khellids and hlai'hwy."

"You're from Ajilon Prime?" Juno asked.

"We're not all _Qo'noSngan_."

"No, I mean… Isn't that awfully close to the front lines?"

"_Jm'poQ Qang_ is not interested in killing fellow Klingons," the lieutenant answered in a disgusted tone. "The honorless_petaQ_ would rather aim his sword, and his abominable Orion allies, at unarmed Federation civilians."

"And that's why we're headed out there, sir," the senior chief added.

"I'm sorry, Senior Chief," Juno said. "Were we introduced?"

"Athezra Darrod," the Bajoran answered, proffering a hand. "Ranking Security noncom and the head of the assault unit the captain mentioned."

"Juno Ichigaki, Planetary Sciences," she answered, shaking his hand.

"Anyway, at least with the Gorn you can trust them to follow the Alphecca Convention, and they're hitting military targets exclusively. What are you guys playing?" he changed the subject.

"_Go_."

"Sorry I asked."

Juno burst out laughing. "No, no! Ag shame, it's a board game from where my family is originally from on Earth. I think your universal translator is acting up."

"Well, you know how it is: they try to keep the idiom filters up to date but there's always one or two that they miss." He watched the game for a moment. "So, what do you think of her?"

"The captain?" Juno shrugged. "Seems like a bit of a hardass to me."

"Really?"

"Ag, come on, you're Security. I came in, I just wanted to study rocks, all right? Now I'm stuck on a warship."

"There's a good reason for that, Specialist Ichigaki," K'lak said, placing a stone. "The captain is former Bajoran Militia. She was a sergeant, came into Starfleet through the OCS program."

Juno gave the lieutenant a look. "Shame! She's a mustang?"

"I looked up her dossier," the Klingon confirmed, nodding. "She earned one of their highest awards for valor and was wounded in action twice, the first time almost fatally. In any case, the organizational culture is that every Militiaman is a rifleman first and foremost. I daresay she expects the same of us."

"Should she? I mean—"

"I can tell you in all honesty," the Bolian said, "that the Klingons and the Borg and whoever else won't give a _bock_what color your uniform is."

"Eish. Ag, outnumbered by redshirts. Hey! You in the gold!" she hollered to a random person at the bar. "Come here and back me up!"

* * *

**Author's Notes:** So I'm merging the "Skippy's List" and "Lower Decks" prompts here. I originally had a much longer piece planned, with Eleya springing an unscheduled drill on them and then bitching them out on their performance _a la_ a scene in _K-19: The Widowmaker_, but the scene felt more awkward by the paragraph as I was writing it so I cut it.

That's real South African slang that Juno Ichigaki is using, by the way. "Ag" is pretty much an all-purpose filler word, as is "shame".


End file.

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