Captain's Log Stardate 87967.8
"The Nexus has just left Ceti 13 after several months of assisting the different colonies and stabilizing the terraforming stations. In a few years, the Mizor Sector will have dozens of Class-M planets and moons ready for habitation and population, greatly expanding the ever-growing need for habitable land in this prospering alliance. I look forward to seeing how these worlds grow and mature. Who knows, I might get myself a nice quiet plot of land and retire there one day."
Captain Anzyl Praxas jogged through the expansive halls and causeways of the USS Nexus, his workout clothes damp with sweat as he completed his morning cardio. There was a confident, unhurried pace to his stride, a reflection of the pride he felt not only in his physical fitness but in the ship and crew he commanded. As he ran, he observed the daily life aboard his ship, each turn and corridor offering a glimpse into the bustling activity that kept the Nexus operational.
"On another note, can you believe it has been an entire year since this fine ship, the USS Nexus, embarked on its journey? In just a few weeks, we'll mark the one-year anniversary of our ship leaving spacedock—the anniversary of the day this smorgasbord of a crew slowly began to turn into a family."
Though Anzyl could easily get his cardio workout done in the holodeck, he found something uniquely satisfying about jogging through his ship. There was a sense of connection in seeing his crew—officers and enlisted alike—going about their duties, mingling, and interacting in the upper and lower decks. It was a living, breathing entity, this starship, and he relished the opportunity to be part of its daily rhythm.
"One year since the journey that began the highlight of my sixth lifetime. None of my previous hosts experienced anything remotely close to what I've seen and done in this short year. I guess the saying is indeed true, 'Time flies when you're having fun.'"
As he continued his jog, Anzyl noticed more often that the racial boundaries and cliques among the crew were dissolving. The Nexus was becoming more than just a collection of Starfleet personnel; it was becoming a tightly knit community. The challenges they had faced—together—had woven them into a fine tapestry, each thread adding to the strength and resilience of the whole.
"This magnificent ship, named Nexus…"
The doors to the Melting Pot slid open, signaling the end of Anzyl's morning jog. The bustling energy inside the ship's main lounge was invigorating. The evening crew was winding down, while the morning crew was just starting their day. Conversations filled the air as officers and crew members exchanged stories and updates.
"Nexus… a connection or link between things, persons, or events, especially one that is or is part of a chain of causation."
Anzyl stood for a moment, a towel around his neck, breathing in the scene before him. The mingling of cultures, races, and faces—all at peace, enjoying each other's company—was a testament to the ship's name and purpose.
"The USS Nexus was truly living up to its namesake.
End Log."
Anzyl took a seat at the bar of the Melting Pot, dabbing sweat from his brow with the towel around his shoulders. The newest member of the crew greeted him with a warm smile.
"Good morning, Captain!" Tuvix, the Talaxian/Vulcan hybrid, grinned heartily, setting an empty place before Anzyl. "Did you have a good jog this morning? Get that heart pumping and those endorphins flowing?"
"Good morning, Tuvix, and yes, I did. Whew!" Anzyl panted as sweat continued to pour from his brow. "I always enjoy my morning jogs." He turned to gaze proudly at his crew, enjoying their morning meals before the day's shifts began.
Sensing what the Captain was gazing so fondly at—the peace and harmony that existed aboard this ship of mixed company—Tuvix smiled softly. His half-Vulcan telepathic abilities allowed him to sense the Captain's thoughts. "Indeed, Captain. I too enjoy the 'Logical Chaos' that every morning brings. The Vulcan in me appreciates the smooth transition from night shift to morning shift, while the Talaxian in me revels in the hustle and bustle of the morning breakfast rush." He laughed at his own oxymoron statement. "Speaking of breakfast rush, what'll it be today, Captain? French press coffee and a pain au chocolat, or..." Tuvix thought of all the pastries and coffee mixtures he could offer. "Pumpkin spice latte with a cream cheese muffin, perhaps?"
Anzyl chuckled at Tuvix's eagerness to create new and classic breakfast pairings. "Coffee and pain au chocolat sounds amazing today, I—" The Captain was interrupted by his combadge suddenly chirping.
"Communications to the Captain," the early AM shift communications officer spoke up.
Anzyl frowned in apology to Tuvix. "Praxas here, go ahead, Ensign."
"You have a priority one communique coming in from Earth's Spacedock, sir. It's Admiral Quinn for you, sir."
Anzyl's head sank, as would anyone's upon receiving a call from their boss on the other side of the galaxy. "Thank you, Ensign. I'll take it in my quarters."
"Will do, sir."
Anzyl looked up apologetically at Tuvix, who had already prepared a to-go cup of coffee and a boxed French chocolate pastry for him.
"You better hurry up, Captain!" Tuvix said encouragingly. "Duty calls, and you better not keep the Admiral waiting!"
Anzyl smiled gratefully, accepting his breakfast as he strode to the transporter pad. Looking back at the Talaxian/Vulcan hybrid, he said loudly, "Very glad to have you aboard the Nexus, Mr. Tuvix." He bowed slightly, holding his breakfast bag in thanks. "Captain's Quarters." And in a flash of white light, he was beamed out of the Melting Pot.
—
Still in his workout clothes, Anzyl sat down at his desk in his quarters and activated the viewscreen. The image of Admiral Quinn, an older Trill, appeared, holding a steaming cup of raktajino.
"Good morning to you too, Captain!" The Admiral greeted him warmly.
"Good morning, Admiral. You caught me just as my morning jog came to an end. Apologies for the appearance." Anzyl shifted uncomfortably in his workout tank top.
"Oh, don't worry about it, Anzyl. I know what time it is. I just wanted to get this message out of the way before the worst of the daily news hits my desk," Quinn chuckled softly. "I have your next assignment from the Khitomer Alliance."
"Oh?" Anzyl replied, sipping his coffee. "And?"
"It's annual review time, and as the first and foremost ship of the Khitomer Alliance," Quinn elucidated, "the heads of the Alliance wish to debrief you on the rather… strange reports… your vessel has filed over the past year."
"Strange reports, sir?" Anzyl's brow furrowed in concern.
"Multiple encounters with the Fek'ihri, a Borg attack at a trade conference, an onboard fighting tournament that you were a finalist in?!" Quinn read the cliffnotes of several reports. "That ship of yours has had some interesting encounters, even by Federation standards."
"And they want me to…?" Anzyl asked slowly.
"Just come back to Earth Spacedock. You'll need to answer all the questions the Alliance heads want to ask. If I recall, your ship has one of those fancy Quantum Slipstream Drives donated from the Borg Cooperative. Can get you here lickety-split!" Quinn gave a sympathetic smile. "At least this review will give the Nexus some dock maintenance time, and your senior staff can perform their own annual reviews, right?"
Anzyl let out a heavy sigh. He was all too familiar with these sorts of "interrogations" from higher-ups, where every decision he had made would be scrutinized. There was always the underlying tension of not knowing if he would still be in the Captain's chair by the end of the day. "Yes, sir." He nodded dutifully. "I'll have the helm set a course for Earth right away. See you in a few days."
Quinn smirked empathetically. "I know you hate these meetings almost as much as I do, Captain. See you in a couple of days. Quinn out." The screen went black.
Anzyl sat back in his office chair and let out a hefty sigh. Tapping his combadge, he said, "Captain to Helm."
"Go ahead, Captain," the early shift helm officer replied.
"Set a course for Earth Spacedock, maximum cruising speed," Anzyl ordered, already feeling the weight of the upcoming meetings, "Permission. granted to use the Quantum Slipstream Drive to get us there as soon as possible. Use the Sol System waypoint near Neptune."
"Aye, sir. Setting course for Earth Spacedock. Will activate the Quantum Slipstream Drive when we have a straight path to Neptune."
"Thank you, Ensign," Anzyl replied, resigned to the days of endless meetings that lay ahead.