Lower Decks: Tales From The Creche

Chapter 1
Aboard The USS De Leon, NCC 76777

Chapter Description: The Lower Decks crew is called in to clean up a sister starship.

Beckett Mariner grumbled as she ran her grappling laser across the hallway tiles. “I don’t see why we got called away from our free time in the Delta quadrant just to run a cleaning service!” she groused.

“It’s because the De Leon is one of our sister ships in the California-class, Beckett,” responded Brad Boimler, “There’s a rotation roster for cleaning up abandoned ships and the Cerritos turn came up is all.”

Beckett grumbled to herself and continued her task. The sooner they completed it, the sooner they might return to their free time.

Ensign D’ Vana Tende went about her work with her usual Orion optimism. As she hummed an old pirate tune, the decks steadily became sparkly clean as she walked on them with her laser polisher.

Her pristine work impressed Sam Rutherford, who had dropped his clean-up tools for a laser spanner. As he meticulously adjusted a minor environmental control monitor for optimum efficiency, he remarked, “Looking clean, Ensign Tende!”

Back on the Cerritos, Captain Carol Freeman caught up on her log entries for the day.

“Star date 100340.33,” she began, “The Cerritos is cleaning up the disaster on the USS Ponce De Leon after the examiners and forensic experts examined the ship from stem to stern, and did not find any answers about the disappearance of the entire ship’s crew.”

“All computer records, visual, audio, and even the scent of the incident are absent. The only evidence that the previous crew had been present for the incident at all is the large amount of completely intact clothing strewn about the ship.”

“As all tests for biological, nanotech, chemical, and radiation show perfectly normal readings and results on the ship. My crew has been called in to return the ship to a presentable state, pick up the scattered clothes, and if possible, run a manual scan for anything that could have caused the disappearance of a full crew and its complement aboard our sister ship. Log entry complete, Freeman out!”

Captain Freeman sat back in her command chair and rubbed her temples. Her gut instinct told her that something was up, but until someone could figure it out, she had to risk her ship and crew while that was happening. She picked up her coffee and sipped it while contemplating the next task of importance on her ever-growing “list of things that captains do”.

“Life had been easier when I was just an ensign,” she said aloud and instantly regretted it as Jack Ransom’s ears pricked and he attempted to ingratiate himself into her for the umpteenth time.

“I hear you, Carol!” he began, “It’s the boring times like this that I miss the action and adventure! Of talking peace treaties with my fists and cold, hard muscles!”

Carol interrupted him before he could continue his rant, “Um, okay Jack, thank you! I’ll take that under advisement. Have you found out what’s causing the power drain in decks five through twelve of the aft section?”

“Oh, the power loss? It started when we entered the same orbit as the De Leon and it's tapered off considerably. Nothing out of the ordinary shows up on our level two diagnostic, but we’ll figure it out by the time we’re ready to leave. I’m certain of it!”

“Thank you, Jack, carry on, then! Oh, let the command staff know that I’m holding an informal dinner to discuss any ties they might have had with the De Leon at 1900 hours ship’s time.”

“Will do, Carol!” said Jack eagerly as he went to inform the relevant personnel and complete his day's tasks before shift change.

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Back on the ship, Beckett, bored with the clean-up and happy that most of the scut work was now nearly complete, took a little "break".

Under their instructions, the cleanup crew cleaned the captain’s cabin last. Beckett figured it had something to do with professional courtesy. It didn’t stop her from doing a little sleuthing on her own, however.

As she opened the door to the captain’s quarters, the first thing that hit her was its spaciousness. She had been in her mother and father’s quarters on the various ships they served, but when she entered this room, something about it just seemed-.

How to put it?

“Cavernous!” she let slip as she looked around the room. It was the standard size of any captain’s quarters. The furniture was standard Starfleet Issue and took up the same amount of space that they had designed it to do. Still, she felt that the room was larger than it should be. She shuddered and focused on her impromptu investigation.

What she saw were Ensigns Rutherford, Tende, and Boimler all doing their version of an investigation. Rutherford checked the computer terminal, Tende examined the carpet and walls for traces of skin and hair to examine while Boimler checked the deceased captain’s scheduling logs for errors.

“I can’t leave you guys alone for a minute, can I?” smirked Beckett. She felt intensely happy that "her crew" of merry men weren't letting her down.

Boimler spoke from his inspection of the logs. “She had a very light schedule at the end. There are just a few minor entries up to the time the of the erasure of the rest of her logs.”

Rutherford advised, “I can confirm the prior investigators found nothing in the code and it’s all standard issue with no modifications other than the prerequisite patches that are applied before they locked the system down for its voyage. Sorry, Mariner!”

Tende continued to scan the walls and carpet. She looked over to Beckett and excitedly said, “I don’t know what those forensic guys did to call their investigation complete, but I’ve found something that might be significant!”

All eyes in the room turned to her. She blushed bright green at the intense stares and continued, “There are DNA and hair samples from various crew members.”

“And?” asked Beckett

“OH! Sorry. They show the captain and her crew’s ages were three months to forty-three years.”

“Okay, the three months might be a visitor with a baby, but what do their ages have to do with anything?”

Beckett addressed her question at Boimler and Rutherford. They shook their heads to show that they didn’t understand what Ensign Tende had found out, either.

Ensign Tende looked back at her teammates with a blank expression. Then it hit her why they were confused.

“The DNA and hair evidence is of the crew from the ages of three months to forty-three years,” she repeated.

“ALL AT THE SAME TIME!”

“Holy Bleep!” Ensign Mariner exclaimed.

End Chapter one.