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[2007: JAN-FEB] *WINNER* Revolution on the Hunley a personal account..


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((USS Hunley, Ceremonial Quarterdeck))

((Stardate 238105.01 1400 hours))

Crewman 2nd class Trevor Olsen entered, he was the last to arrive, he was the accused, escorted by two security crewman. In the center stood a podium behind it the ships captain, to his right the First Officer, to his left the Ship’s legal officer, Ship’s Councilor, and a yeoman to make an official record of the proceedings. He marched in dressed in his best dress uniform, as was everyone else, for this was a formal ceremony, not a medal presentation or citation for bravery, no this was a legal preceding, this was Captain’s Mast. Not as formal as a Courts Martial, it was a step down for minor infractions and used solely on enlisted members, Officers where held to even higher standards.

“Quiet in the vicinity of the Quarterdeck while Captain’s Mast is being conducted”, blared over the ships announcing system. Now everyone knew he was at Mast, it seemed to the young crewman just twenty-one years old.

“Crewman Second Class Olsen front and center!” The Captain barked, Captain Jones, a tall Terran of African decent, skin so dark it was almost blue and a voice that was low and full of bass orders boomed from his mouth when he raised his voice, but he was most intimidating when he didn’t raise his voice he had a look that would stop you in your tracks, Olsen receiving that look now.

Olsen shakily steps forward, he found his step to be heavy as if his shoes where filled with concrete. Saluting he reported: “C…Crewman S..Second Class Trevor Archibald Olsen, re…reporting as ordered, Sir.” His voice cracking, as he fought with all his will not to break down, under the weight of his emotions.

“Commander T’Kel read the accused his charges.” The captain ordered softly, but the words thundered through Olsen’s head…ACCUSED.

The Vulcan Legal Officer began: “On stardate 238104.15 Crewman Olsen is charged with willfully disobeying the Commanding Officers Verbal Orders by entering an off limits gambling establishment while the USS Hunley was visiting Kenga V, in addition he is charged with disorderly conduct, assault on a civilian, assault on security personnel, and disrespect to a commissioned Starfleet officer. On stardate 238104.16 he is charged with reporting to duty while intoxicated, missing assigned detail, missing assigned watch, disrespect to a senior non-commissioned officer, and conduct unbecoming a member of Starfleet.”

Olsen lowered his head in shame, suddenly the First Officer Tomlinson, was in his face, his nose just a mere centimeter from his.

“YOU, are to be at attention, CREWMAN!” He barked, and just as quickly returned to is spot next to the Captain.

Olsen regained his composure and returned to attention. The captain began and questioned all the witnesses, first those that where against him and they recounted the events of the charges there where at least two people per charge sometimes more, then those on his behalf, only one a fellow crewman. Next came the charter witnesses, members in his department making statements on his character as a member of Starfleet. Finally it wound down, everyone who had something to say had said it.

“Before I pass judgment, crewman do you have any thing to say for yourself and your conduct?” The captain inquired.

“I..I’m sorry for the disgrace and damage my actions caused, I have disgraced my…myself, the Hunley, and my shipmates, Sir.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Chief Hansen, his division chief, give him a half smile, a quiet good job keep it simple he had warned him earlier.

“Hmmph.” Captain Jones closed is eyes in contemplation, slowly he opened them his voice was low and rumbled through Olsen. “Crewman the charge of assaulting a civilian are dropped. As for the other charges; on all charges, except for the charge of assaulting a security crewman, I find you guilty and reward you with the following, reduction in rate to crewman third class, forfeiture of one-half months pay for two months, restriction to the ship for 30 days with 30 days of extra duty. On the remaining assault charge I find you guilty and reward you with 10 days confinement in the ships brig. Administratively I am removing my recommendation for promotion, retention and reenlistment, you have till the end of your current enlistment to change my mind on this crewman. This Captain’s Mast is now closed, guards escort Crewman Olsen to the Brig.”

It was done, his eyes watered, as he was escorted down to the brig, the guard yelling: “Gang way prisoner coming through.” Everyone flattened themselves against bulkheads or halted in cross passages giving way to the trio, giving a wide berth almost as if they feared catching whatever he had.

((Brig USS Hunley))

((Stardate 238105.01 1600 hours))

His brig cell was small consisting of a single bunk, toilet and fold down table, there was no privacy, just three bulkheads and a confinement force field for a door and fourth bulkhead. On the bunk was a change of uniform, already reflecting his rewarded new rank. Reward, odd choice of words, but he knew he had been rewarded for his merits or lack there of.

The ten days in the brig, dragged on he was directed in exercise, allowed to shower. He was visited everyday by Chief Hansen to check how he was doing. The Ship’s Counselor visited him several times also. It was during this time he did a lot of self-inspection, trying to figure where he had gone wrong. During this time that he talked with Chief Hansen about what he could do, chief suggested to Olsen that he get a mentor, someone that could help him and guide him, also to give him a swift kick in the backside when necessary, Olsen liked the idea.

Restriction required that he check in with security 4 times a day, regardless, unless the ship was in red-alert then immediately after the alert secured. Failure to comply would be a violation of the CO’s restriction orders. Olsen ensured he set an alarm fifteen minutes early so he could check in on time. His last muster of the first day he was greeted by Tactical Senior Chief Petty Officer Maxwell Bennington, a grizzly of a man, who stood a full 15 centimeters taller than him.

“Your, late Olsen.” Bennington quipped.

“I got here just in time, Senior Chief.” Olsen quipped.

“Rule, number one: if your not ten minutes early to your appointments your late.” Bennington barked his voice horse and gravelly.

“Olsen, your chief told me you wanted a mentor, so if you can keep up with me I will volunteer my services. For now we need to get your extra duty out of the way, so I have some work that needs to be done in my division, you up for this?”

“Yeah, Senior Chief.” Olsen regretted his use of slang the minute it left his lips.

“Yeah?!, Don’t you mean ‘Yes, senior chief. Bennington’s rule number two speak properly when addressing your superiors, it show respect, don’t use slang they may think you’re an idiot, understand?”

“Yes, Senior Chief.” Olsen quickly corrected.

“Call me Senior. Lets get out of here these security apes drive me nuts.” They walked the passages of the Hunley, they quickly arrived at the forward torpedo control complex. Inside, it was darkened as personnel in tactical manned tactical repeaters keeping track of the ships tactical situation. “Welcome the forward torp. This is Petty Officer Jenkins; he will show you what you need to do. Jenkins this is Olsen from auxiliaries.”

Olsen was tasked with assisting in the renovation of a space. When the two hours where up, Senior Bennington told him to get some sleep, they where going to be up early. He drifted off to sleep wondering what had he gotten into……

0430 was early even on a starship; Olsen was woken up by Bennington and told to get in PT gear. He quickly dressed and followed Bennington to the gym, the workout was fairly intense, and Bennington recorded every exercise asking him to judge how he did. After an hour they where done, Senior Bennington gave him his log, and some dietary recommendations, explaining that too truly change he would need to redo his foundation, and that started with nutrition and exercise. Olsen absorbed everything intrigued with the infectious attitude of the older man. Each hour of the day occupied Olsen found that his thirty days of restriction and extra duty went by quickly, he also noted that he was getting in better shape and had bounds more energy.

Professionally his dedication carried over, it was if he was a new person, eager to learn again and he took to each job eagerly. He attacked each assignment with a new vigor and commitment to excellence his superiors noted this and rewarded him with greater responsibilities. Though the stigma of the mast still affected him, he had intended to make Starfleet a career, but without a recommendation his tour and career was quickly coming to an end or so he thought….

((USS Hunley Stardate 238210.15))

Olsen went about his rounds, checking the tractor beam equipment. The Hunley had responded to a distress call from a wounded cargo vessel and was towing it and its vital cargo to its destination. He went about adjusting circuits to maintain the tractor at peak efficiency, a job normally assigned to someone more senior than him . But despite all he had accomplished his fate in Starfleet rested in the hands of the ship’s captain, Captain Jones.

Suddenly, his self reflection was interrupted by the undeniable sound of red alert. The ship went into high gear; Olsen secured his work, and took off at a quick pace to his assigned station, forward weapons deck. He moved forward along the port passage ways as crewmembers who had to move aft used the starboard passages. Olsen quickly reported to the repair locker he was assigned to and began dressing out in an engineering EVA suit.

The entire ship shuddered for weapons fire, lights flickered off, and emergency lighting came on. It was time for him to do his job; Olsen was lead investigator, there were two investigating teams each composed of three men each, with one of them assigned to lead. The investigators had the dangerous job of finding the damage, reporting, beginning initial repairs and rescues.

Olsen looked at the other team, fear and determination mixed in there faces. “You guys start with the after section and work forward. We will work forward to aft, report to the locker every 5 minutes, watch your air.”

It felt kind of funny, everyone on the team outranked him, but they took his orders. His team moved quickly using portable scanners and tools to find the damage, soon they could see the damage as bulkheads had warped and deformed. Clearing each compartment of survivors they moved forward, finally arriving at the impact sight…

Forward Torpedo was a mess, Olsen judged that the weapons had hit here. The door was jammed shut. Indication from the outside of the compartment was that it was decompressing and that was not good.

“Baker report to the locker that we have decompression in the forward torpedo room and we are beginning entry to assess the damage.” Baker had to take the message himself due to communications being down in this section. “Report back here ASAP.” The second class petty officer took off as quickly as one could in an EVA suit.

Olsen and the remaining investigator started the difficult task of securing the area and preparing to enter a decompressing compartment. They set up portable force fields to limit the decompression of the ship. Next they started worked on the Torpedo compartments heavily armored door. They forced open the door with the hydraulic spreader and entered the dark and damaged maze of the torpedo room. Crewman where strewn about broken and injured, amazingly though none where dead, yet.

“Get the injured tagged with transporter tags.” Olsen and Prichard went about quickly tagging each person. “OK let’s isolate the systems and get some power to at least one of the control panels.” They worked quickly isolating the environmental controls in this section from the rest of the systems restored some functionality, more importantly they had restored communications.

“Repair 1 Fox this is investigation team one, we are in compartment 03230, Forward Torpedo initiating Site to Site of six tagged injured personnel to medical, now.”

Olsen did not even know that Petty Officer Jenkins and Senior Bennington where among those he transported as he initiated the transport.

“Prichard lets shore up the bulkheads.” They started the process of carefully removing the damage, and shoring up the overhead and bulkheads. Suddenly they stopped dead in their tracks; a warhead had holed the hull and the port torpedo launcher, with a torpedo in the tube, both unexploded. Very dangerous either could kill them and seriously damage the Hunley.

Olsen quickly reported what they found. The ship shook from another attack, communication with the repair locker was lost. He switched to the tactical station on the bridge. The frantic tactical officer informed him that the torpedo in the tube had been launched and was counting down thinking it was in flight. It would detonate soon, destroying the forward section of the ship unless it was freed. If it was freed it could cause the other warhead to detonate with the same result.

“Sir, I could beam them both out at the same time, I just need transporter controls routed to here, this panel is still functional.”

Olsen heard Captain Jones growl to give him control now! Olsen tossed two transporter tags to Prichard, “Get one on each of them!” Olsen took control of the system along with a tactical repeater, he noted that they were under attack by two ships one of which had no shields and was heading straight for them. Ram us he thought, he locked onto the strongest energy source from the attacking ship and transported the deadly cargo to the attacking ship. Prichard fell due to the sudden loss of pressure and slid toward the hole. Olsen dove to help his fallen shipmate, jagged edges played havoc on EVA suits. Prichard was helpless as the ship banked hard in combat. Olsen reached Prichard just before the gapping hole, Prichard had a large gash in his suit and was fading fast, Olsen felt something sharp hit his side. He grabbed Prichard with all his strength and activated the suits emergency beam out. He passed out.

Olsen woke he ached from decompression, most of his body bruised and beaten. He heard someone say, “Tell him he’s awake.” Still struggling to focus a large dark shadow crossed the bed he rested in, “How are you, son.” The Captain’s voice resonated a true concern for him.

“I’ve felt better sir, but I guess I’ll make it, what about Prichard and the others, sir?”

“They are all fine, resting some have even returned to duty. You saved a lot of people today.” Captain Jones looked at the head of the medical bed, frowned calling the medical officer over, “Doctor, I want you to take good care of Crewman Olsen, and the next time I visit him you had better get his rank correct. He is a Petty Officer Second Class, not a third class. You listen to the doctor, son, I’ll stop by later as for now I believe the good doctor has ordered you to rest and recover.”

Olsen was shocked, had he heard right, Petty Officer Second? Was he dreaming? Olsen thought so and drifted back to sleep. He stayed in medical for a few days, visited by several, and the Captain kept his word and visited again and everyday. The day he was discharged he noted everyone was in there dress uniforms, a doctor told him that the crew was mustering in the shuttle bay in sixty minutes he had better hurry.

Olsen went to his division office, Chief Hansen, shocked told him to hurry and get changed. He trudged off to his berthing; his uniform was once again laid out for him, with a note from the captain, simple and to the point, “Congrats on Second!” He quickly dressed ensuring everything was in order and returned Chief Hansen congratulated him on his new rank and they walked together to the shuttle bay, the entire crew was there. Olsen noted that sometime during his covalences the ship had docked at a repair station.

“Olsen get up front with the XO, you’re not going to be standing with the division today.”

Shocked Olsen went up front, in front of the entire crew. This was where awardees went during these quarters.

The XO spotted him, “Olsen, good you made it! You stand here.”

Nervously Olsen walked to the spot indicated; this was the spot of the first award. The first award was always the highest, Olsen swallowed hard and was poked in the back. Turning around he was greeted by Senior Chief Bennington. “Relax Trevor, you deserve this. Enjoy it.”

“Crew, attention to quarters.” The second officer started to read the first award “For conspicuous gallantry above .....The rest was a blur. The Admiral pinned first one medal, the Starfleet Medal of Valor on him then another, the Grankite Order of Tactics. Captain Jones leaned forward, “Olsen, don’t worry about your re-enlistment, though you might considered applying to the academy again, they might be interested in you now.”

After the ceremony he went to a reception hosted by the admiral. Senior Bennington strode up to him “Heard the captain say, you should consider applying for the academy again, I think he is right.”

“Senior, I been thinking on that and I think I will.” Olsen replied.

Smiling, “The engineering school is tough you know.” Bennington quipped.

“Engineering? No I think I’ll shoot for Tactical.” Laughing

Bennington. “Tactical god help us all.” They both laughed loudly.

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