Chapter Text
"Space, the final frontier. These are the continuing voyages of the starship Jean Valjean. Her ongoing mission, to explore strange, new worlds; seeking out new forms of life and unknown civilizations. Boldly going where none have gone before."
"Captain's log: Stardate 54331.1. The log entries for Captain Jonathan Archer consistently repeated, at the beginning of the Enterprise's mission, that they were 'making history with every lightyear.'
"Technically, I suppose the Valjean is doing the same thing, but when you're cut off almost entirely from Starfleet... We haven't been able to have live communication with the Federation in nearly two months.
"We always knew that this wasn't a short mission, but sometimes, being cut off from everyone we know back in the Federation can get pretty taxing.
"Councilor M'Grash reports that many of the crew have started taking advantage of the Councilor and his staff. After what the crew has been through before we set out, it only seems right that the Councilor have help.
"I'm glad to hear that the crew are doing what they need to do to take care of themselves.
"The Valjean herself continues to bypass all of our expectations, and Lieutenant Commander Miral is sure that with some continued updates, she can get the ship's warp capabilities up well beyond her design specifications. I'm not convinced she's not trying to compete with Commander Laforge on the Enterprise.
"Stellar Cartography reports that in just a few days, the Valjean should be passing near a stellar nursery, giving us the incredibly rare opportunity to see the very birth of stars.
"We expect there to be some significant gravity sheer while we're in that region and engineering is working to increase power to the inertial dampeners and the structural integrity fields. I have no doubt that by the time we arrive, the Valjean will be better equipped to deal with the environment than any other ship in Starfleet."
Marius glanced down at the screen that had risen out of his desk, going over the list of requests of equipment use, a half dozen departments all clamoring for time on the ship's subspace radio, or telescope or transceiver array, or any of a dozen other of the ship's scientific equipment.
"On a matter of personnel, the effects of long duration missions are starting to take hold, as interpersonal relationships, and differences, start to become apparent. The relationship of captain and first officer continues to grow, and I am pleased that Commander Locarno and I work in near perfect concert."
He paused and took a deep breath. "Computer, end log entry."
It was late, well into Beta shift–2100 hours, when he finished up for the day. Lieutenant Commander T'Lassa had the bridge when he'd left the ready room. She'd transferred aboard following 'the incident' and Commander Locarno had been impressed with her record from when she'd been serving on the Exeter.
T'Lassa rose from the center chair. "Sir," she greeted crisply but with the classic Vulcan air of indifference.
"Lieutenant Commander," he greeted, moving along the side of the bridge toward the turbo lift. He stepped into the lift. "Good evening," he said, before redirecting his words to the computer. "Deck ten."
The lift stopped in a corridor that ran along the ship's midline and Marius got out and made a left, walking forward. It was a short walk to the intersection at the end of the corridor and after a quick right turn and an eight meter walk, Marius was at the door to his own quarters.
It had been eight months just to get the edge of Federation space, and they'd kept going, another two months from that. Ten months since they'd left space dock, four months since the last chance to change crew, and three months since anyone had had any shore leave. Of course, many people had claimed that shore leave on Arbazan was... less than shore leave.
One report from an ensign called the Arbazan people 'facist.'
Marius was hesitant to throw that word around, especially in official reports. Arbazan was a Federation world and a report of any repressive regime could give the Federation Council reason to question the Arbazan's standing in the United Federation of Planets. He'd had Commander Locarno have a discussion with the ensign about the consequences of poorly chosen words in official reports.
He was finally settling in. He'd pulled off the jacket that covered the red command shirt and had plucked the four, metal pips from the collar of his shirt. His boots were next to come off.
Marius stumbled over his kicked off boots as he made his way toward the replicator. "Allira," he said and waited as the beverage materialized. Allira was always a favorite of Marius's. A sweet though acidic punch made from fruits native to Betazed. It reminded him of home. It reminded him of Azaiah.
Marius took a sip of the lilac colored drink and set the glass on the surface of his desk with a clink. Sighing out a deep breath, he reminded himself, yet again, that a mission of exploration like the Valjean's really couldn't be planned out. It was much more of a 'go that way until you find something interesting' sort of mission. That was something that had slipped Marius's mind. He was a planner, and it's hard to plan exploration.
He was glad the next few weeks would have something to do other than maintain.
His door chirped as he dropped down to the sofa and put his feet up on the small coffee table. "Come in."
Steven Locarno entered. He was out of uniform also, wearing his gray, Academy t-shirt. As First Officer, he'd run Alpha shift, and he'd been off duty for hours.
"What's up, Steven?" Marius asked, gesturing for his Number One to sit down.
Locarno moved to take a seat. "You've been in your ready room all day, you only came out to come down here, and I assume you've just kept working." It wasn't a question, almost an accusation.
"Yea?"
Steven rolled his eyes. "You gotta take care of yourself, Marius. The Valjean needs a captain who's not exhausted."
"I like my job."
"So do I, but I still take care of myself." Steven crossed his legs. "How 'bout we play some Parrises Squares?"
Marius laughed almost incredulously. "I haven't played Parrises Squares since the Academy!"
"I know, we were on the same team, remember?" Steven's eyes were watching Marius's every move, like he was taking careful account of his captain's wellbeing. "I was thinking about starting up a small league. This deep space sorta mission is pretty much weeks of just flying followed by a couple days of excitement. It'd be good to do something in that down time."
"So, holo-Parrises Squares?"
"Where's the fun in it if there's no risk?" Steven laughed and Marius joined him.
"What happened to 'Valjean needs a captain' blah blah blah?"
"Doctor Gurlak's got our back!" Steven changed tone. "I was thinking about converting Cargo Bay Three into a Parrises Squares field."
"Yea, sure," Marius nodded as he stood and crossed the room. He picked up the glass of Allira and took a large drink. "Anything to liven up halls of the ship." He took a moment. "Just make sure it can all be cleared away quickly, in case we need the cargo bay."
"Yes sir." Steven stood and made his way to the door. "So does that mean you'll be joining the league?" The First Officer smirked at Marius.
"Good night, Steven," Marius replied, fake exasperation in his voice.