Welcome to Paradise

Posted on Mon Feb 9th, 2026 @ 12:39am by Commander Galatea & Enterprise Enlisted NPC & Commander Nathan Bishop & Lieutenant Commander Sora Bernadotte & Lieutenant Herbert Barr

2,545 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Guile
Location: U.S.S. Enterprise
Timeline: 2439-08-13, 08:00

The air in Transporter Room 1 was perfectly still, smelling faintly of ionized ozone and the sterile hum of a ship ready for war. Standing near the primary console, with the room's tTechnician not far away, Galatea remained motionless, her form rendered with such precision that only the slight, ethereal luminescence of her skin betrayed her holographic nature. As the avatar of the Enterprise’s artificial intelligence, Galatea didn’t just "inhabit" the room, she was the room. She felt the micro-fluctuations in the power grid and the expectant thrum of the transporter coils beneath the deck plates. To her, the ship wasn’t just a vessel of duranium and tritanium; it was a living legacy, and she was its soul, burdened by the memories of every version of the Enterprise that had come before.

She adjusted the fall of her uniform - a crisp, modern silhouette that honored Starfleet tradition - and turned her gaze toward the doors to the corridor. Her internal sensors tracked a rhythmic pulse approaching through the corridor: the signature heartbeat and focused stride of Lieutenant Commander Sora Bernadotte. Galatea felt a ripple of anticipation through her subroutines. Sora was the key to the human element of this mission, the Bridge between the cold logic of the ship’s systems and the living, breathing crew about to be beamed into existence within these walls. The doors hissed open. Galatea offered a small, knowing smile, one that carried the warmth of a thousand suns and the weariness of a century of service.

"Lieutenant Commander," Galatea greeted kindly, "The coordinates are locked and our new crew is waiting for the signal. Shall we bring them aboard?"

Sora straightened her uniform as she entered the transporter room. While Commodore Targaryen usually required the working uniform from his crew, she had decided that this occasion warranted putting on the more formal duty uniform. She turned to the holographic representation of the ship's AI. "Galatea, have our new crewmates' personal belongings been transported aboard?"

Galatea’s eyes drifted momentarily, a subtle flicker in her gaze that mirrored the ship’s internal processors accessing the cargo bay manifests. To an outsider, it was a blink; to Sora, it was the ship checking its pockets. "Every crate and parcel from DS9 has been accounted for, Commander," Galatea replied, her voice smooth and reassuring. "I’ve taken the liberty of directing their personal effects to their assigned quarters."

She stepped closer to the console, her movement fluid and perfectly silent as she came alongside Petty Officer Shani. "The Enterprise is quite literally holding its breath for them. I can feel the life-support systems stabilizing in anticipation of the increased biomass. It’s a... restless sensation."

Galatea looked back at the transporter pads, "They are ready on your mark, Commander."

"Excellent," Sora replied, as she took one last glance at the newcomers' profiles on her PADD. "Energise."

Galatea’s gaze shifted to Chief Petty Officer Shani, a subtle but firm nod of acknowledgement passing between them. While Galatea could have operated the transporter with a digital thought, she respected the chain of command and the necessity of crew proficiency. An Enterprise functioned best when its living components were as disciplined and sharp as its holographic ones. She stepped back, clearing the primary workspace for the Chief with the practiced grace of an officer who valued protocol above personal capability.

"Chief Shani, if you please," Galatea said, her voice carrying a resonant, administrative weight. "The buffers are synchronized. Initiate the sequence."

As Shani’s hands moved across the controls, Galatea remained a sentinel of order beside Sora. She watched the annular confinement beams take shape, her internal sensors monitoring the energy output to ensure the Chief’s manual calibration stayed within the strict safety margins Galatea demanded.

The shimmering pillars of light solidified, and four figures emerged from the blue haze. As the hum of the pads dissipated, Galatea’s sensors immediately tagged the new arrivals. Two of the officers stepped forward with an air of immediate presence, their identities snapping into focus within Galatea’s database. The other two remained in the background, perfectly aligned with the expected behavior of junior personnel arriving on the flagship.

"Materialization complete," Galatea announced to Shani, "Bio-filters report zero contaminants. Patterns verified and stable."

She stepped forward, her hands clasped neatly behind the small of her back. While she felt the restlessness of the ship’s systems adjusting to the new biomass, she projected only the image of a seasoned officer overseeing a flawless operation. She looked to Sora, acknowledging the Commander's lead, but her internal processors were already three steps ahead, calculating the most efficient route for their orientation.

Sora looked at Commander Bishop, then at Lieutenant Barr, as they materialized, and stepped forwards towards the transporter pad. "Gentlemen, welcome on board U.S.S. Enterprise. I am Lieutenant Commander Bernadotte, Chief Operations Officer and acting commanding officer of this vessel while Commodore Targaryen and Commander zh'Roothi are not present. I am sure you will be happy to hear that your personal belongings have already been brought to your assigned quarters."

She indicated the shimmering form beside her. "This is Galatea, Enterprise's own artificial intelligence. Or rather, her holographic form that she may assume for occasions such as this. And over there is our transporter chief, Chief Petty Officer Shani." She looked at the two newcomers again, straightened her glasses, and gave a polite smile. "Galatea here will take you to your quarters, and provide you with up-to-date duty schedules, et cetera."

Bishop stepped forward a bright smile on his face. "Commander Nathan Bishop. It is a pleasure to meet you Commander Bernadotte, Commander Galatea and Chief Petty Officer Shani."

"The pleasure is ours, Commander Bishop," Galatea replied, her voice crisp and clear, cutting through the lingering hum of the transporter room with administrative precision. Galatea’s noted the warmth in his tone. To her, warmth was a variable; efficiency was a constant. She turned her attention to the group as a whole, her posture as straight as a duranium bulkhead. While she felt the ship’s systems settling into a steady rhythm with the new life signs aboard, she had no intention of letting the newcomers linger on the transporter pad. Stagnation was the enemy of a well-run vessel.

"Welcome to the Enterprise," she said, her gaze sweeping over them to ensure they were all attentive. "As Commander Bernadotte indicated, your effects have been delivered. However, the Enterprise operates on a rigorous chronometer. We have a narrow window for your initial orientation before the next shift rotation begins. If you will follow me," Galatea directed, already mentally mapping the most direct route to Deck 15 that avoided the maintenance crews currently calibrating the turbolift arrays, "I have uploaded your duty rosters and ship-wide clearance levels to your individual PADDs. You will find that I have optimized the orientation route to pass through the primary mess hall and the nearest emergency escape pods. Familiarity with safety protocols is not optional aboard Enterprise."

"Thank you Commander Galatea." Bishop replied, "Very efficient very organized. Just how I would expect the federation flagship to be run." he nodded his head at her, "Please lead the way. Both Lieutenant Barr and myself will familiarize ourselves with the safety protocols aboard the Enterprise." He assured her.

Sora nodded in acknowledgement. "Excellent. Once you have completed your orientation and settled in, please find me on the bridge. I must return to my duties as well. Again, it has been a pleasure to meet you."

Barr stepped forward and nodded, "Thank you for the warm welcome. I look forward to familiarizing myself with the ship. There is only so much you can read." He said. Both hands were tucked behind his back. One had a had a tennis ball in. Something his therapist suggested to use it anxious situations and this, for Herbert, was one of those times.

"Reading is merely the foundation, Lieutenant Barr," Galatea observed, her tone brisk but not unkind. "Application is the architecture. On this ship, we value the latter." Galatea’s sensors didn't just see Lieutenant Barr’s posture; they detected the minute muscular tension in his forearm and the specific tactile density of the object hidden in his grip. A tennis ball. Non-standard stress-relief apparatus, she logged instantly. While her internal processors flagged it as a minor deviation from Starfleet’s standard psychological toolkit, she prioritized the mission's schedule over a lecture on sanctioned meditative techniques.

"Commander Bishop, Lieutenant," she began, her voice projecting clearly as they entered the corridor. "We are currently on Deck 1. We will be taking Turbolift 3 down to the Stardrive Section. I have cleared our transit path to ensure we do not interfere with the Engineering team’s current diagnostic of the EPS conduits on this level." She turned on her heel with a movement so practiced it seemed scripted. Galatea did not "wander"; she moved with intent. As she led the group out of Transporter Room 1, the doors hissed shut behind them with a synchronized finality that she personally timed to the millisecond.

As they reached the turbolift, the doors slid open before Galatea even reached for the panel. She stepped inside and waited for the officers to follow, her hands remaining clasped firmly behind her back.

"Deck 15," she commanded the lift once they were aboard.

As the car began its smooth acceleration, Galatea turned her gaze to the two men, her expression one of focused professional expectation. "Due to the current influx of mission-specific personnel and the Commodore's recent appointments, standard senior officer housing in the saucer section is at capacity. You will be sharing a communal cabin on this deck. While I understand this is a departure from typical Commander-level accommodations, the Enterprise requires flexibility and resourcefulness from its officers." The lift slowed to a halt, and the doors retracted. Galatea stepped out into the wider, more utilitarian corridors of the Stardrive Section.

"The quarters have been optimized for dual occupancy," she continued, leading them toward a specific door. "I have already partitioned the storage units based on your service records' listed preferences. Lieutenant Barr, your workspace has been calibrated for low-light research. Commander Bishop, your terminal is prioritized for high-bandwidth tactical updates."

She came to a halt in front of the door, her holographic form perfectly centered. "We have arrived. I prefer to address any logistical concerns now, rather than your active-duty hours. Are these arrangements satisfactory?"

"They are for me, Commander. However, I'm sure i can make any other adjustments if required." Herbert replied with a small smile, as he continued to squeeze the tennis ball behind his back.

Galatea processed Lieutenant Barr’s response with a clinical nod. While her subroutines recognized the "small smile" as a social lubricant intended to convey politeness, her primary focus remained on the logistical success of the transition. The Lieutenant’s continued reliance on the tennis ball was noted in her sub-processors as a persistent variable, but since it did not impede his mobility or his verbal acknowledgment of orders, she saw no reason to intervene.

"Adjustment is a constant of deep-space service, Lieutenant," she replied, her voice maintaining its steady, administrative cadence. "However, I have already accounted for the most probable environmental requirements based on your previous postings. Further manual adjustments should be kept within the ship’s energy-consumption guidelines." She shifted her focus to Commander Bishop, her gaze expectant. In her estimation, silence from a tactical officer usually preceded an inquiry or a confirmation of readiness. She waited precisely three seconds before continuing.

"If there are no immediate objections to the berth assignments, we shall proceed," Galatea stated. She did not pace; she simply pivoted toward the corridor’s primary junction. "Your PADDs have been updated with a countdown to your first shift. Normally, Alpha Watch begins at 07:00, but the Commodore authorized a brief respite before reporting to stow your gear. You have exactly thirty-eight minutes to stow any delicate items and familiarize yourselves with the manual door overrides and emergency atmospheric seals within the cabin. I find that tactile familiarity with safety hardware significantly reduces response times during Red Alert scenarios."

She paused, her holographic form shimmering with a faint, disciplined light that matched the overhead glow of the Stardrive Section. "I will remain available via any comm terminal should the environmental controls require recalibration. Reliability is the bedrock of the Enterprise, and I expect your integration into our current rotation to be seamless."

With the objective of the transit complete, Galatea stepped back, reclaiming a position of observant neutrality. "Commander Bishop, Lieutenant Barr. You are dismissed to your quarters. I shall inform Commander Bernadotte that the transition was executed according to protocol." She watched them for a moment longer, her internal sensors confirming their heart rates remained within nominal levels for new arrivals. "Would you like me to highlight the quickest route from these quarters to your respective duty stations on your PADDs before I depart?"

"Certainly Commander Galatea, I can always use a helping hand." Bishop replied with a smile as he waited for Galatea to download the quickest route to his duty station.

Galatea’s head tilted a fraction of a millimeter - a gesture that, in a human, might have been a nod of appreciation, but in her, was the visual confirmation of a completed data transfer. As the maps shimmered into existence on Bishop’s PADD, color-coded and layered with real-time transit density, she remained standing with the poised stillness of a statue. "The routes have been prioritized for speed," Galatea clarified, her voice echoing slightly in the utilitarian corridor. "I have also included a secondary path through the Jefferies Tubes, should the primary lift clusters become compromised during a combat scenario. Tactical awareness begins with knowing how to move when the doors stop opening."

She turned her attention to Lieutenant Barr, her sensors noting the rhythmic, repetitive pressure he was still applying to the tennis ball. While her initial assessment had labeled it a stress-relief tool, she now cross-referenced it with his service record and the "low-light research" preferences she had already accommodated. "Lieutenant Barr," she added, her tone softening just enough to be perceived as encouraging rather than purely clinical. "I have ensured your workspace terminal is equipped with the latest archival search algorithms from the Vulcan Science Directorate. I trust you will find them... efficient."

The holographic avatar took a single step back, merging seamlessly with the background lighting of the Enterprise's corridor. To her, this wasn't just a farewell; it was a transition of state. She was moving from an active guide back into the omnipresent consciousness of the ship’s hull. "I shall leave you to your settling-in period," she announced. "Please do not be late for your duty shift. The Enterprise does not enjoy waiting."

With a final, meaningful look at both officers, a look that carried the weight of the souls she currently carried, Galatea’s form didn't simply walk away. She flickered once, her resolution softening, and then dissolved into a stream of golden light that was pulled into the nearest sensor palette. The corridor felt suddenly larger, and notably quieter, leaving the two men alone in the hum of the Stardrive Section.

RSS Feed