History of the USS Arapaho

USS Arapaho, Akira Class
Starfleet Registry NCC-62629

YEAR	EVENT
2363	Commissioned on stardate 40947.1 under the command of Captain Christopher Beck, with Commander Blaine Everett as XO. Primary mission: exploration and support. During her first two years of service, Arapaho completes over 75 missions and patrols, including 11 special operations. Among her first crew are Lt(sg) Douglas White as Chief of Operations and 4th year cadet Gage O'Banyon.
2365	Captain Beck retires. Blaine Everett promoted to Captain and CO. Commander Gerald Vance assigned as XO.
2366	Wolf 359. Arapaho arrives and is hit early. Captain Everett and half the crew are killed. Though the ship is severely disabled and can no longer fight, Commander Vance conducts rescue operations for the destroyed vessels. 273 survivors from nineteen ships are recovered. Thereafter, Commander Vance is decorated for Meritorious Service, promoted to Captain, and reassigned as CO of the USS Jonathon Strong.
2368	Out of spacedock with minor refit. Captain Dane Brenten assigned as CO. Commander Roger Owen assigned as XO.
2370	Commander Owen succeeds Captain Brenten as CO. Commander Katherine Weeks assigned as XO.
2372	Captain Owen dies mysteriously. Commander Weeks succeeds him as CO. Commander Dominic Sherin assigned as XO.
2373	Dominion War begins. Arapaho fights and wins 43 skirmishes taking only minor damage. When hit, she takes heavy damage and casualties that include Commander Sherin. CTO Lt. Commander Roderick Montein is field promoted to Commander and XO. Arapaho fights 17 more battles with major structural damage before the war's end in 2375.
2376	Out of spacedock with repairs and major refit. Captain Roderick Montein assigned as CO, Commander Barry Isen as XO.
2377	Arapaho is overtaken by a spaceborne virus in a remote system. She is quarantined by Starfleet Medical and cannot be rescued. A full third of the crew dies before a cure is discovered by CMO Dr. Jan van Kloos.
2378	Arapaho defends Federation supply outpost Omega9 against Maqui attack. Her victory is regarded as overkill by the Admiralty, and Captain Montein is Court Martialed. Commander Barry Isen promoted to Captain and CO, Commander Kyle Goddard is assigned as XO.
2380	Commander Goddard is assassinated by pirates while on shoreleave. The ensuing investigation and battle uncovers corruption within the planet's ruling faction. Arapaho is recalled to Earth, Commander Renee Sherif is assigned as XO.
2382	Captain Isen is transferred to Starfleet Logistics. Commander Sherif is promoted to Captain and CO. Commander Jean Bouchard is assigned as XO.
2385	April While on covert operations in the Crosant system, the Arapaho crew make a lethal discovery. Black market trading on the Caitan homeworld is rampant, and Starfleet operatives on Arapaho are exposed. As a result, the ship is captured and most of the crew are captured or killed. The Sovereign class USS Poseidon answers Arapaho's distress call, saves the day, and tows her to Starbase Epsilon. After a full refit, Captain Zachary Russell is recalled to fleet duty and assumes command. Commander Eugene Cook, Russell's lifelong friend, is assigned as Executive Officer, but killed in action before accepting the post. Admiral White assigns Commander Jason Hilani as his replacement. At the same time, Captain Russell names Lieutenants Votaryn Erisoll, Na'Hel Jo'Mal, and Sardra Vol as his first department heads. The crew are ordered to the Mirovan system for their first mission together. May Julana Astri joins the crew as Counselor, Daphne James come aboard to head the Science department. Arapaho sets course for the rogue moon Parraquoia (Mirovan VI-A), home to an isolated sect of monks, after it suddenly gains the attention of The Nomads, an insectoid race with the memories of millenia and an 8000 year old claim. As the conflict between the monks and the Nomads heats up, mysteries about the monks' lives (and deaths) come to light, and the object of true desire is revealed. July The Lapis Vessel August Lara Sashenka takes over the post of Ship's Counselor September The Millan Effect October Dr. Benjamin O'Connell joins the Medical Department. December Commander Jason Hilani resigns his post as Executive Officer. Commander Alan Cavanagh, a Senior Intelligence Analyst at Starbase 10, is temporarily assigned as a 'Mission Specialist', and fills the XO position as well. 2386 January Geolu's Passage (joint mission with USS Poseidon) June Arapaho's fleet of Peregrine class fighters is deployed in battle for the first time since Dominion War. [battle summary/details?] July Infestation October Halloween Party November All That Glitters 2387 May Love Sick July Integration

Parker: Captured

Scene: Lecrae III surface, Away Team Beta

Only after Russ had had his sidearm confiscated and pointed back at him by the prettiest blonde he'd ever seen did he fully realize what was happening.

The group of what had seemed like passing strangers had instantly become hostiles less than a second after Mallyn introduced himself to Commander Kumani. Before she could lay a hand on her weapon, Mallyn had a knife at her throat. Though every officer knew the XO could probably snap his neck in a single motion, the away team was too separated to react with anything but a calculated surrender. They had become too relaxed during their orienteering and lulled into a false sense of security by the complimentary Lacraens, and were forced to wait for a better opportunity to respond in kind.

It was obvious this place along the road had been chosen for the away team's abduction. A personnel truck appeared from a behind a treeline a short distance away, as well as several other people carrying various weapons. They appeared to be a sort of ragtag militia, but that isn't what the Arapaho officers noticed the most: none of these individuals had the fashionable clothes, the impossible hairstyles, or the beautiful features most humanoid species find desirable in both genders. These were plain, ordinary folk.

Russ felt himself being prodded forcefully in the back, and realized it was probably Jed's phaser. Based on the weapons being toted by the locals, it was easy to deduce that while the Lecraens did have energy-based weapons technology, they probably wouldn't be able to change the phaser from its standard stun setting without some experimenting. For the moment, the team's lives weren't in immediate danger.

Everyone was ordered to move with their hands above their heads toward the truck, which had stopped a few meters away. By now there were a dozen or more armed Lacraens, too many for the away team to take out cleanly. Russ made a mental note to suggest bringing a Klingon or two for the next away mission. Everyone's hands were bound behind their backs, and bags made of coarsely woven material placed over their heads. As the back of the truck opened, Russ heard the sound of liquid swishing in a glass container and smelled something volatile before his head was held and something pressed over his face.

Then the world went black.

Ensign Russ Parker
Operations Officer
USS Arapaho

Parker: Orientation

Scene: Deck 13, Recycling Plant

  

Russ took quick notes while Traamon walked him through the last day's orientation of the ship's Operations systems. Although the Screean had only been on board a handful of months, he was the only officer in the Ops department, and had had to learn most of his duties through technical manuals and scribbled notes from the long-gone Chief of Ops, a scattered Bajoran.

"THIS IS THE WASTE STREAM PROCESSOR," Traamon shouted over the loud machinery. "IT TAKES EVERYTHING FROM GALLEY SCRAPS TO REPLICATOR MALFUNCTIONS TO CREW WASTE AND TURNS IT BACK INTO ENERGY. I'M SURE YOU'VE SEEN SIMILAR SYSTEMS BEFORE. I CAN GO OVER THE SCHEMATICS WITH YOU BACK IN THE POD."

"GOT IT," Russ shouted back, "WHAT IS THAT SMELL?"

Russ thought back to his first day. Walking into the main Operations Control room, Traamon had welcomed him to 'The Ops Pod.' True to the nickname, the room was large and oval-shaped, with stations to control everything from weapon and shield power distribution, the main deflector dish, replicators, gravity plating, life support, turbolifts, internal communications, transporters, and auxiliary and backup systems. Most of the stations were empty, all having been long since rerouted to the supervisor's panel, which could also be controlled from the Bridge. The workspaces were cluttered with reports, notes, and manuals. Judging by what he'd seen so far, Russ could tell Traamon was clearly gifted intellectually, but had a long way to go in housekeeping skills. Because of what he'd heard about Screean males, Russ decided to let it ride until he'd established a good rapport with Traamon. The rapport was well into solidifying, but since that first day Russ found out first hand why nothing was put away: there was simply too much work to do.

The two officers were rounding a corner toward the compartment hatch when Russ accidentally kicked over a large bucket beneath a leaking framework of pipe. He said an expletive he thought would be inaudible in the din.

"YEP, THAT'S WHAT IT IS," Traamon responded. The men laughed. "HANG ON, I'LL GET A COUPLE MOPS."

Ensign Russ Parker

Operations Officer

USS Arapaho

Russell: Poolroom Meeting

Scene: Starbase Epsilon, Officer's Club

The din of the Officer's Club poolroom crawled across the dusty hardwood floor like a heavy fog. It fell onto the feet of each patron, and whether there to drown a sorrow or celebrate a success, every denizen of that dark room knew the weight the fog would carry away from them, and allowed their passions to be swept up like those of all the others.

Zachary Russell was no different. He played alone at one of dozens of tables, a bright lamp forty inches above the slate, each table lit like so many islands in the sea. He looked at the table as he chalked the cue stick, then took a final drink from a tall lager glass before setting it down next to three empty glasses.

The crack of the cue ball sounded like a .45 as it hit the yellow one ball square. The exchange of momentum sent fifteen balls scattering across green felt in every direction. The four and twelve balls dropped into corner pockets.

"Mind if I play?"

Zach heard the voice, but didn't look to acknowledge it for a moment. He hoped his distance would intimidate the intruder into finding another table. But when he looked up, he saw the owner of the voice standing opposite him. It belonged to a young man of dark complexion. His build and bearing showed an officer of considerable experience, and the simplicity with which he carried himself betrayed a hidden complexity. The cool look on his face showed wisdom beyond his apparent years.

"Sure," Russell replied. "You're stripes."

He leaned in for another shot, sinking the red three. The cue ball came to a stop directly in line with the side pocket and the seven ball. He hammered it in easily. As Russell walked around the table for chalk, the stranger spoke.

"Name's Hilani." He stuck out his hand. "Jason Hilani."

Russell finished with the chalk and shook hands with the man. "Zach Russell," he said simply, then leaned in for his shot. It was a difficult bank, but with enough left english, the cue ball would take a sharp turn off the rail and hit the one, dropping it softly into the corner pocket. Russell took a deep breath, and succeeded.

"Nice shot," Hilani complimented. But by the time he finished speaking, Russell had sent the cue ball crashing into the five, knocking it squarely into a pocket.

Russell looked up. "Thanks," he said. He moved quickly around the table and slowly took aim. Looking down his stick, he could see the cue ball, six, and two in a nearly perfect lineup with the corner. He pushed the stick forward. The cue ball hit the two, which hit the six, which fell into the pocket. The other two balls still in line, Russell leaned in again and shot. The six rolled toward the corner, bounced off one, then the other, side of the pocket, and rolled back toward Russell.

"Hmm," Russell said, and walked to a high round table. The waitress had left two clean glasses next to the half full pitcher. Russell filled both with the foaming amber quaff and drank from one.

He offered Hilani the other. "Your shot," he said.

Russell: From Operations to Communications

Scene: XO's Office

Ensign James entered the office just as Commander Hilani finished up one of the many reports he was due to submit before departure. He looked up as the door chime called. "Enter," he said.

"Ensign Daphne James, reporting as ordered Sir!" the young woman saluted and stood firmly at attention. Jason forgot how it was to be fresh out of Academy.

"As you were, Ensign. Please, take a seat," he asked. She did timidly.

"I won't keep you long," the XO began, "I just wanted to let get your opinion on something."

"Anything, sir," Daphne replied quickly.

"I've been looking through your service history and aptitude scores..." Commander Hilani glanced up as Ensign James shifted nervously in her seat, and continued. "...and I'd like to recommend to the Captain a change in your position, from Operations to Communications Officer. What do you think?"

Ensign James was obviously very uncomfortable at this level of casual chat between a junior officer and an XO. Her efforts at looking comfortable made it even worse.

"Of course, sir, whatever the ship needs!"

Jason sighed. "Ensign James...look. Captain Russell and I want the officers on Arapaho to do the work that will not only serve the ship best, but satisfy their own ambitions. Based on your past work and skills, we both feel it would both fill a gap that would make you much more valuable to the ship and Starfleet in the future, but give you a chance to learn something new, that you'll probably be very good at."

The Commander's rather long explanation left the already nervous Ensign in a mild state of bewilderment. After a moment, all his words managed to sink in. "I understand, sir," she said, "I'll accept the change." She smiled, indicating her confidence in the decision.

Commander Hilani smiled back. "Very good, I'll notify the Captain and make the appropriate changes. Dismissed."

After Ensign James left, Jason hit his combadge. "Commander Hilani to Captain Russell, she agreed. We have a Comm officer."

Russell: For Better or Worse

Scene: Starbase Epsilon

The bleak neutral grey walls of Starbase Epsilon's guest officer's quarters threw a dull light all around. Even in the small office nook, ambient sounds and natural light coming from local system's sun were cast down and disregarded before reaching the senses of the occupant. The brightest spot in the room was a small potted plant hanging from the ceiling, struggling to survive.

Captain Zachary Russell sat oblivious amidst the barrenness. Feet propped on the edged out desk drawer, he sat back in the grey chair with a large PADD, reviewing its contents for the nth time. He skimmed over dozens of pages of personnel reports, schematics, service updates, technical data sheets, flowcharts, and logic diagrams. He'd seen most of it before; he'd even written some of it, having once been considered an expert on Akira class tactical systems. But that was years ago. What he wanted was at the end, only a few hours old.

Finally he reached the Poseidon's logs. Captain O'Banyon's report on the incident in the Crosant system, a savage, pirate-infested region of the Neutral Zone, was painfully detailed. Holoimages were professionally and technically rendered in blinding 56x128k resolution, showing even the minutest hull fractures. The engineer's report on Arapaho's condition was sterile but impressive. Repairs were underway, and she would be operational upon arrival at Epsilon. Good enough...for now.

Russell sighed inaudibly and set down the PADD. He reached for a stark white coffee mug bearing a faded Starfleet emblem and put it to his lips, only to find that it was empty. He cursed quietly and set it back on the desk, next to another PADD. Eyeing this with a sidelong glance, he scowled and stood. On the display, the face of a middle-aged man stared back at him, a summary of his service record running in a slow-rising column at the left of the picture. As it scrolled, Russell watched until the last item was displayed:

Memories of Gene Cook flooded back into Russell's mind. They had graduated from Academy together. They shared their first assignment on the USS Tiberius. They got matching tattoos on Risa. Their careers were almost mirrors of each other. Until the accident.

Gene's injuries kept him from duty nearly a year. He'd even considered retirement before being offered a sweet spot on a Nova class. By then, Zach was XO on the Deltron. Eventually the war brought them together again. Afterwards, Gene went on to Arapaho as COO, while Russell was in recovery.

Russell picked up his orders, a few weeks old now, and read.

[As of Stardate 30401, Captain Zachary Russell is hereby assigned as Commanding Officer of USS Arapaho. Lieutenant Commander Eugene Gook is hereby promoted to full Commander and is assigned as Executive Officer. (Signed) Fleet Admiral Douglas White.]

But now Gene was dead.

Russell rubbed his temples and stood. The reports would wait. The messages would wait. The dispatches and requisitions and decisions would wait. At least a little while.

Sanchez: Makin' Trouble

Scene: Bridge

Another shift on the bridge... great. If the people who were supposed to be sitting there during Alpha shift were actually on the ship, more might get done in Engineering, not to mention this crystalline storm thing might get figured out.

Thus thought Ario as he made his way to Deck One. Transferring from Security to Engineering was hard enough, now he was a part-time command officer. *Oh well, it could be worse,* he reminded himself as the turbolift opened to the bridge.

"Coffee, black," he ordered the replicator. As the mug materialized, he looked out into Poseidon's command center. The enthusiasm of each young officer was almost inspiring. Ario took his coffee and sipped himself back to reality.

The morning reports were all in; Ario scanned them for items needing immediate attention. Detailed problems would be dealt with by OB or Pritch when they returned. There were none of either. "What's the status of the away team?" he asked the Comm officer on duty.

Despite his dislike for Ethan Zaret, having anyone else at the comm station made Ario much less confident about how accurate the answer to his question would be.

"Still no contact, sir," came the response. Ario resisted the urge to go over and check for himself.

"Mr. Takaishi," Ario questioned the officer as he entered the bridge, "let's do another scan and see if we can penetrate that damn storm, I'm tired of waiting for this problem to solve itself." His extraordinary lack of patience was getting the better of him.

"Aye, sir," the Ensign replied, and began the scan.

"Lieutenant?" It was Ensign Leva Karr, the new science officer.

"Yes, Ensign?" Ario forced the politest response he could muster. Although he had no problems with the officer herself, and was more than accustomed to being addressed by title and speaking to subordinates, he loathed being up here. He made a visible effort to become more relaxed.

"I'm detecting a significant reduction in the magnitude of the storm. It appears that it is dissipating," Leva said.

*Now we're cooking with gas,* Ario thought. "How long before our scanners can penetrate it and locate the away team?"

"Approximately twenty minutes."

Ario looked on the viewscreen at the swirling grayish mass between himself and the away team. He checked the scan logs and calculated the problem in his head. Something wasn't right.

"Takeru, coordinate your scans with Ensign Leva. I want to know the minute you locate any of our people down there," Ario ordered.

"Aye, sir," they answered in unison.

Ario watched the storm for a long minute, wracking his brain. That this storm was unnatural had already been established by its suddenness, but there had to be more to it. Ario watched as lightning stretched for long miles in every direction, beginning white and changing visible color as it moved outward. Occasionally a branch of lightning would touch off a new center, and the process would repeat itself: hot white centers that changed to red, blue, indigo. Then Ario remembered the stuff of the clouds was of crystalline structure.

"Harris!" he almost shouted.

"Lieutenant?" the ops officer on duty was visibly shaken by Ario's tone.

"Bring the spectroscopic imagers online. Leva, next time lightning strikes, get an analysis of the medium those charges are moving through."

"I'm not sure we can do it from this distance, sir." She tapped on her display. Lightning struck. "No dice, sir. We're too far away."

"Helm, move us within 20,000 kilometers of the upper atmosphere. If I'm right about this storm, we might have ourselves a huge can of whupass at our disposal."