Chapter Text
For technical pictures of the USS Horizon see below: (3 images)
I imagined this is how the ship could look like. Feel free to give e advice. I realize now that I forgot to include sickbay or to mention where it is (it is obviously there). I just have not decided where. Logically, It would be on deck 1 or 2, in the middle, with access to turbolifts.
Chapter 1
She had dreamt of a large nebula; it was of a dark purple, wide and tall, with white dust clouds scattered gently like shy freckles on the blushing crests of its waves. The nebula had seemed dreamy, soft, almost safe. It was quiet, the silence of outer space a welcome and familiar empty soundscape. She had wished to let herself fall into the puffy folds like into a deep, smooth bed; she had imagined it would have cool sheets that could soothe her hot skin. In the dream, time had been standing still, and her body had felt weightless, as if made from the same lilac gas that clouded her subconscious now. Subtle stars shimmered through the clouds, and she felt her ears tickle from the warm smile blooming on her face. That sensation woke her up very gently. Opening her eyes, she met the gaze of two deep blue diamonds, gray and stormish like the north sea, wide open and full of spirit. The brows accompanying them, serious and determined. A crooked smile appeared, white teeth showed, and his jaw slightly pushed forward, giving him something cheeky and deviant.
-Mother!- he declared, jumping to his feet with the speed of a lightning bolt. She rose from the bed drawing her sheets back to her hips and supported her upper body on her arms, leaning back slightly, still smiling, the dream making her shoulders soft and her demeanor unserious. He stood in front of her and she allowed herself to take him in fully for a second. He was tall for a boy of his age, slender but strong. His face was boyish and sharp, bright grayish blue eyes and impressive dark brows above them. His complexion was cool, almost cold, although he had an olive undertone to it, so unlike her own pale reddish Irish tone. That, he must have gotten from his father. The eyes were all hers, though. What he had gotten from both of them was his hair: stubborn, strong and dark like his father, but in a deep brown, almost auburn like hers. Chestnut that stood up and lit up like copper when the sun fell on it. His big, sharp and edged nose was high in the air now and she noticed those small few freckles, probably remnants from all those kisses she had planted there when he was little. He stiffed those broad shoulders and pressed his lips together in impatient agony.
-Mother!- He repeated. -You swore to my spirits you would take me to the holodeck!- It is now eight hundred hours and I do not wish to be late!- Such a serious tone for such a young child, she erupted in honest laughter, astonished and somewhat proud. All those old books she had him reading, she was surprised the universal translator was not humming more intensely while attempting to decipher this almost archaic English he had been developing.
Finally, she bowed her head and raised her hands in defense, satisfying him apparently. He let her go and she crossed the room barefoot to the small bathroom that her quarters offered. Warm light turned on and she looked into the mirror, seeing herself as she was standing there. Not very tall, not overly beautiful, nothing remarkable. But for a woman in her early fifties, she was still so fresh and alive and that alone was the reason she found herself really rather pretty, actually. She had wrinkles, of course, loose skin, gray hairs, scars and spots… but her eyes sparkled, her teeth were bright and her cheeks rosy with the sharp air that an early morning brought. The last years doing the work she had been doing, had done her good. More than that, they had made her strong and confident but also calm and collected. Whatever happened before, was really just stuff for stories now and belonged to a closed chapter of her past life. Never had she been able to reach an equilibrium of some sort before, not like now.
She had let her hair grow again and it was flowing over her shoulders in a mixture of auburn and gray, giving her the graceful elegance of old wise ladies. She found it made her more feminine, less harsh. Just as that long time ago, she had gone back to wearing it in her famous timeless twists, curling it into that creamy wave that seemed to be held up by an invisible pin. Right now, and for today, she decided against this style of updo. After showering in a cool setting for barely five minutes, she washed her face more thoroughly, brushed her teeth and took care of her hair. It was braided now, the tip touching ever so slightly that soft spot between her shoulder blades when she inclined forwards. A bit of moisturizer and a soft hint of blush.
Back in the room, her son had laid out some clothes for her and left her alone to dress. It was mostly black clothing; stretchy, breathing material. Across her chest and shoulders, two crossed lines indicated in dark wine red that she was a member of the command section. When she stood up, fully dressed, she pinned her four pips and the golden combadge to the neck and chest of her uniform. Back in the bathroom, the mirror now showed a strong woman, thin, angular and sharp, with soft curves and a light step. Muscular, fit, electric. Despite her broader chest or her slimmed behind, she found she still had something. Her long braid shimmered like silver on the dark fabric of her jacket. She tucked her fingers into the long sleeves, smiled raising her eyebrows and whispered to herself
Let’s go Kathryn!
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A deep forest, the sound of a whispering stream, cackling stones, water rushing. Humid air hung heavy, the plants of a dark green, hanging wet, hefty and thick across their path. It was cool, although the sort of woods to be hot and wet, like a jungle, when the midday sun struck into the green roof of the trees. This morning, fog clung dense between the pale trees, making the atmosphere hazy, almost dreamy.
She looked up the hill and saw him standing there, between the ferns. His figure was sharp against the milky dew behind him, the shapes of the trees and branches around him smokey and barely visible in the mist. She called out his name and he turned. From his ears she knew he was smiling. He waved and she stepped the last yards up to him.
Together they stood, looking down into the small depression before them. A river-bed hat caved a hollow streak into the thick underbush, with cold clear water rushing across. Sharp and dark stones lay scattered, a few poking out of the stream, gray where they had dried. A bird cried out a loud melody and for a second, she forgot this was not real. Her skin was damp, her hair curled slowly, her lung heavy with the wet humidity. They walked and slid a few meters down forward and stopped next to the water. The stones in front of them appeared to make an almost perfect crossing path, if one was willing to jump between them. She drew air into her chest and closed her eyes.
-Shall I go first? So it isn’t so bad if the first person falls...- she said quietly, her eyes on the rocks. He looked up and snorted, that hellish smile again. Before she could protest, he was already half across the river. Shaking her head, she followed quickly.
On the other side, a plain clearing lay before them. The ferns were as high as their knees and tickled them as they walked. Sunshine fell through the branches and she delighted in seeing his hair shine in that reddish fiery halo. They stopped and unpacked their bags. It had been quite a long walk and despite his fierceness, he seemed exhausted. She had brought food: sandwiches and fruits, juice and water. For herself, a pot of steaming black coffee. He ate calmly, with his long fingers and she observed him like she loved to do so very often. The flushed cheeks, the pale neck, the big ears. How attentive and alive he was. He pulled his head up suddenly and looked at her.
-Look what I brought. -He said and turned to get something from his bag. It was a book, creamy white, in soft wrapping, with prints of plant designs on the cover. She took it and flung it open. It was a very old herbarium, exactly for plants like those around them: flowers, ferns and moss, trees, and other species of the rainforest. She smiled proudly. He had read it extensively, apparently: many parts of the book were marked or contained annotations. How did she ever deserve such a studious, bright child? He blushed slightly at her evident pride and took the book back, rummaging through the pages until he opened the chapter with different types of ferns. He started to explain them to her, and she listened, taking slow sips of her coffee, when the combadge chirped the familiar Bosun’s Whistle. A detached and calm male voice spoke.
Bridge to Admiral Janeway.
-Yes? - She asked in a distracted manner, her eyes still fascinated with her son’s book.
We are about to arrive at Deep Space 9. Your presence on the bridge is required.
-I understand. Can you give me about twenty minutes? -
Of course, ma’am.
She chuckled. After fifteen years, they still called her ma’am most of the time, instead of the formal “captain” or even “Admiral”, but she took it dearly, seeing it as the symbol of real and deep respect. Regarding her position on the ship, she was rather a Captain or a ship’s mother: like the big whale they lived in, she offered them a home. Her Admiralty never had suited her. She rose and shook the crumbs off her pants. Her son looked up and raised an eyebrow.
-Do I have to go to school now? -
-Of Couse. You have a little more time, maybe you can take time to pick up a friend and go together. - She said. -But we can do this again tomorrow, my dear. - He smiled brightly and got up as well. She trusted him to take care of himself if she left for work now and he was alone, even if he was so young. Calmly they packed their breakfast and the science equipment they hadn’t had time to use. He had expressed to her that he wanted to observe the plants more closely but now they might have to come back for that again.
More birds had been starting to sing and the mist was dissipating. Cool wetness still clung to their clothes as they moved. She could hear her breathing in this quiet forest, feeling immensely calm and at peace. They took a shortcut and crossed the river where it was thinner, balancing on an old trunk. After a short while they had arrived at the door to the holodeck. Returning to the spaceship was a strange experience: one minute the air was thick and sharp, the next, the deep humming was back and the narrow, carpeted corridors hugged them in a tight embrace. She caressed his shoulder as goodbye, and they parted ways.
_______
On the bridge, the regular morning shift business was taking place, with officers, lieutenants and ensigns mixed up with one another, tapping on screens and consoles, studying data sheets and pads or simply standing and discussing information. She devised the yellow of an engineering ensign and his subordinate repairing a broken console in the science section and observed while she walked past, finally making out her tactical officer. Instead of a first officer, she had him covering Tactical and offering his guide as her second hand, since they rarely needed the manpower to cover every position. He was tall, rigid, standing stiffly amidst the early morning chaos, looking through the viewscreen with determination, seemingly unbothered by the humming of the beehive around him. Kathryn enjoyed the chaos. After all, this was a learning ship and exactly the setting for young ensigns to do exactly what they were good at: standing around and in everyone’s way, asking the strangest questions and using their clumsy hands and stuttering brains for the very first time in a practical setting. It was bound to be hellishly chaotic, turbulent, always something unexpected happening. That is, if you were expecting it to be like a regular Starfleet vessel: ordered by strict protocols and hierarchy, a clean command structure and every little man on his own task. Here, it was rather different. Ensigns were assigned to Individuals of the regular crew and shadowed them like interns, running after them and asking for their first practical tasks. Most of them were really young when they had opted to do a few months of their training in space instead of on earth. Despite Starfleet wanting to select only the best and brightest for this program, Kathryn secretly selected with her intuition, often choosing cadets that elsewhere were looked down upon: outcasts or young people with complicated backstories. She felt they fit best into her crew of misfits and her own teaching philosophy. It had been over eight years since she had accepted the proposal from Starfleet – to fly an Academy-ship through space, exploring the galaxy and allowing an everchanging selection of eager cadets to take their first “Star trek”. Just as eight years ago, this “mission” made her proud and made her days worth it.
When the ensign at comms shyly announced: “Captain on the bridge!”, Tuvok turned around and looked at her with that one raised eyebrow she knew so well in her best friend.
-You, Admiral, are late. - He said stiffly. She waved a hand loosely through the air, amazed again at his firm use of protocol. He must be the only one aboard the Horizon who seriously called her “Admiral”.
-I know, I know, my friend. But I was supposed to start at nine hundred hours and you’ll have to admit that you called me in earlier than that. – She smiled. – Besides, I was out in the deep forest with Willem.-
His gaze softened. -I understand. Time with children can be fleetingly futile. We must not take it for granted and permit ourselves to overindulge. - She looked at him with wide eyes, surprised at his use of the word “overindulge”, but she understood that even this Vulcan man, him who had mastered the art of emotional regulation like no other she knew, had a soft spot for children (having many of his own) and allowed himself to be late now and then as well, if he could be with them. Especially after all those years we lost stranded in the Delta Quadrant… She thought. They both looked out of the viewscreen and across the sparkle of stars to the small dot that was Deep Space nine. Together they stayed, quietly, in the eye of the storm. For a month they had been exploring Deep Space and gotten slowly closer to the station DS9. There were hundreds of phenomena that could be explored, investigated, annotated and observed by their knowledge-hungry students on board. Instead of flying in a straight trajectory, the Horizon flew in circles and zigzags, catching whatever they found to be interesting and rarely docking on somewhere, unless it was necessary. Today, they were expected there for a small Rendezvous with Starfleet, an exchange of a section of their students and the arrival of two new teachers. One of them was supposed to bring his doctorate assistant. The latter had a fascinatingresearch proposal that she was rather curious about.
_____________
The USS Horizon, although capable of firing up to velocities of warp around 9.9 and higher, usually moved like a calm and slow freighter. With a broad, proud nose and a heavy body, she looked like a mother whale. She was not designed like the historic Ship-class Horizon, it was just the name that for her captain, Admiral Janeway, had seemed fitting. After all, this ship existed for the purpose of expanding the Horizon of everyone on it. She had discussed the design with Starfleet command when they had offered her the position and happily waited for the thirteen months it had taken them to build her. She had told them that she would only take the job if she was in command of her own ship, a ship that she herself designed and was fully suitable to the needs of her long term mission.
Inside The Horizons deep bowels, classrooms, science labs, community halls and many other facilities were accommodated. In her broad face and cheeks, the bridge and a theatre hall. Almost everyone on board had big windows, to see the stars passing by and dream of endless voyages of discovery and exploration. She had wanted it this way, missing deeply the curved windows on Voyager that made the person underneath feel like they were flying through the stars themselves, a fish in the vast deep galaxy. Closing her eyes, she had let the rushing lights of the stars at warp tickle her eyelids many times, calming her when things got rough again, like they always did on Voyager.
Inside the ship, around 250 could live somewhat comfortably, although most of the time she kept it staffed with around 200. The less, the more intimate and she felt that people needed space when travelling in such a comparatively small vessel through such an enormous, unimaginable vastness for long periods of time. Some of her crew lived on the vessel long term. Some changed every few months. For the crew, it was free to decide how long they would be staying, as long as they didn’t leave a critical post vacant. With the Horizon somewhat regularly docking at Space Stations or Planets, she replaced that part of the crew with a steady rhythm, exchanging also her set of students. Those stayed for about three months each, coming and leaving in groups: one semester at the academy in total spent in space. Instead of doing an exchange semester with another Starfleet academy base or even one on a different planet, students here had the privilege to actually travel by ship and seek out new discoveries for a much longer mission and far earlier than in regular training.
The ship was modelled after the Intrepid-class USS Voyager in most of its design and functionality as to Kathryn’s wishes, yet it definitely offered more comfort: along the long hallways for example, there were nooks with books, pads and comfortable chairs to read and study. At the end of the halls, there were small bubbles or domes, where one could step a little further into “space” and glance at the stars crossing by. Almost all hallways fully ended into these little “aquariums” and students loved sitting there, laying on the carpet whilst doing their reading and occasionally looking up and smiling with amazement. Most of the student’s accommodations were double, triple or bigger bedded quarters to allow them to form friendships in the loneliness of space. Every cadet had their own sleeping corner, but in the middle of their shared quarters were couches and tables to study, work and get together. All rooms had replicators and were painted in soft colors like mauve and sage, to calm and soothe the inhabitants.
A few of the inhabitants were families, as some of the crew, some teachers and even a few students had children and partners. They had bigger rooms, more like apartments, with their own room for children. All students under 18 who were not in the space-program of the academy attended a regular school in the lower decks taught by a team of palvular teachers that were on board especially for that purpose.
Furthermore, a few doctorate and higher ed students were always on board, gathering specific material for a thesis, a project or just research. Kathryn loved talking to them, as she saw in them the future of her field. “Young, bright scientist” was once a term she had called herself by and she felt at ease with them, like they were her peers. At heart, despite her long years as admiral or captain, she was truly, deeply and firstly, a scientist. Astrophysical phenomena, an especially interesting comet, dusty clouds in deep space or a fascinating wormhole – those were really the things that made her palms itch, and her heart skip a beat.
She looked back up at her tactical Officer and nodded firmly.
-Well, shall we let them know we are here? - Tuvok nodded back ever so slightly. She turned to the blonde man at the helm and stretched an arm out with a majestic gestus. -Well then, Mr. Paris, what are you waiting for. Flash some lights and get us in there! -
-Yes ma’am!- he chuckled and eagerly got to work.