Stick Out Your Thumb

Posted on Wed Aug 27th, 2025 @ 7:06pm by Doctor Kim Standish & Lieutenant Commander Kirak & Ensign Eugene Fredricks
Edited on on Wed Aug 27th, 2025 @ 7:20pm

2,837 words; about a 14 minute read

Mission: Prelude: The Gathering
Location: Shuttlecraft Hermes / Shuttlecraft Toliman
Timeline: Mission Day 1 at 0000

[Shuttlecraft Hermes]
[MD 1 0945 Hours]

"Are you serious?"

The exhalation of deep frustration emanated from the pilot's seat where Ensign Fredricks sat, hands on his thighs, staring at the navigational panel. In front of him were the usual readouts, helm controls, communications array, engine reports. But a few of them were lit up red and were blinking as if the demanding red color was simply insufficient to capture any true flyboy's attention.

"This was supposed to be a milk run," he muttered darkly before punching at a control he'd already tried to engage four times without success. Annoyed he slumped back in his seat, head tilting back sharply to thump against the headrest of his seat. "Uuuugggghhh..."

"Alright up there?" This voice was feminine and preceded a curvy redheaded woman as she picked her way to the fore of the craft.

"Yes, ma'am," Fredericks quipped, though his voice held a sharp edge that indicated his words were not at all to be trusted.

"Doesn't sound alright," the woman, soon to be Chief Medical Officer of the Starship Proxima, Kim Standish, deadpanned back at him, eyebrows raised as she dropped into the co-pilots seat.

Fredricks slid a glance sideways, straightening in his seat as the senior officer made herself comfortable. He seemed to realize, belatedly, that he wasn't exactly comporting himself with the most officer-like demeanor.

Kim scanned the dash and her brows crept higher. "Red blinky lights don't usually mean everything is fine and dandy," she commented wryly, giving the ensign a once over, eyes narrowed in silent appraisal. "Have you tried turning it off and back on again?"

"I'm sorry, what ma'am?" Fredricks managed to sputter at the suggestion. One did not simply turn a shuttle off and back on. Life support and all that.

"Never mind Mr. Fredricks. I'm pretty sure that's frowned upon anyway." Standish scanned again. She'd done her stint, years ago, in the requisite Academy flight courses and could, in a pinch, pilot, though her passengers would almost certainly prefer she not do so. "So we're dead in the water, huh?"

"Water... ma'am?" Fredricks squeaked. Though human he was from one of the drier colonies.

"Don't swim much where you're from?" Standish quipped back. "Look, have you tried sticking out your thumb yet?"

Fredricks eyes widened in confusion just in time for the redheaded woman to bark out a dry laugh.

----

Bronze fingers strokes a shorn bronze chin. This was... out of the ordinary. The shuttlecraft had crossed within the requisite 50,000 kilometers that demanded a hailing challenge. It appeared dead in space, slowly drifting on a parallel trajectory. Brown eyes studied the facts with a slow eyebrow raise. Caution considering their location- near Klingon space and known pirate territory- pressed on Kirak's logic.

He reached over and tapped on the Toliman's defense field. The Mode Select readout created a series of dashed bubbles around the shuttle's schematic. Then, Kirak turned his chair precisely. He rose and tugged on a dark brown sweater-like tunic with a Vulcan fashion cut. Its shoulders were padded and tapered into a square appearance. He tapped several keys. His face appeared in the comm panel as he sent a visible communique.

"Shuttlecraft Toliman to unidentified Federation Shuttle. Your transponder codes appear offline and are not transmitting. Are you in any difficulty?"

----

"Well there you go," Standish said, casting a quick and ever so slightly smug grin at the ensign in the pilot's seat. The shuttle may be adrift without a functioning transponder, but hailing frequencies were apparently still working.

Fredricks merely gave the woman a bemused glance. In the minutes since she'd sat down he had gotten a fairly comprehensive explanation about what it meant to be both "dead in the water" and "sticking out a thumb." Personally, once he understood, he thought those anachronisms were unnecessarily archaic. But he'd recovered his dignity enough not to question a woman several ranks above him.

Standish's pale fingers danced quickly across the comms, opening a frequency and grinning as the distinctly Vulcan visage of the pilot in the other craft appeared in front of them. "We do seem to be a bit stuck," she confirmed for the speaker. "Lieutenant Commander Kim Standish," she continued by way of introduction. "And this dinghy is the Shuttlecraft Hermes. Seems she prefers her namesake's more chaotic attributes today. Any chance you could give us a tow? Or... you know... call us one?"

----

The Vulcan's brow rose with a nuance of curiosity. His hands folded fingers into the in a bridge. "Lieutenant Commander Kirak. This is a standard Starfleet transport shuttle. Tractor beams are not standard issue. However, I can attempt to match your speed and trajectory and extend this shuttle's umbilical to allow you and your pilot egress to this shuttle."

Kirak began to touch controls that were under the view of the screen, and off to the side. "Do you have maneuvering thrusters?"

----

Kim looked expectantly at Fredricks who took just a touch too long to realize she was expecting him to answer the Vulcan in the other shuttle. "I'm a doctor, not a pilot, Ensign," she said with a warm and somewhat put upon edge to her voice.

Fredricks, eyes wide, fumbled with the control panel for a moment. "Uh... umm... yes... we do have maneuvering thrusters... I... umm.. think..." he finally stammered out, glancing back and forth between the image on the screen and his readouts. "Umm... at least they look functional."

----

In space the Toliman slowed and turned, the circular portal of each shuttle now drifting slowly, cautiously toward the other. The Toliman's light ring spun clockwise to life and pulsed twice. This was a delicate maneuver, but not difficult. But it was slow... almost achingly slow and that dilation of time made for tension. Toliamn had to precisely match the Hermes' attitude along X, Y and Z. But slowly they closed.

Finally, with the touch of a key, Kirak turned his attention fully to his console's monitors. The screen showed the rear of the Hermes' along with a series of flashing yellow- no green- no, yellow- lights. It was an alignment system- a targeting system. "Hold your position, Ensign..." The Vulcan said in calm deadpan. A moment later as the light ringed green, he depressed a button. From the Toliman's docking ring detached and shot an umbilical- a mesh of vacuum-sealed super-plastic reinforced by duranium rings. With a double, chirpy beep, Kirak was pleased that the connection was successful.

"Umbilical connected... I am pressurizing it now. Twenty-three seconds...." In precisely twenty-three seconds he added, "I am opening Toliman's hatch and extending the gang now."

----

"Let's go kid." This from Standish to Fredricks who seemed to be entirely disbelieving that they were about to entirely abandon a shuttle adrift in the middle of nowhere.

With a sort of half flip of her head Standish straightened, cleared the red strands of hair that were tempted to stick to the embrace of her bangs making it look like her barber ought to be reintroduced to how bangs ought to be cut. She shouldered her bag and grabbed the handle of a crate, tilting it just so that the flat medical kit propped precariously against the handle wouldn't fall.

Fredricks, who had far less to carry, pressed his lips together, taking one last scan about the cabin before shouldering his own bag and tapping a vigorous command into the hatch panel causing it to hiss open.

One finger wiggling in her ear as the pressure from the airlock and the shuttle normalized, Standish stepped forward into the plasti-duraniam tunnel and made her way across holding her breath and only letting it go when she was standing on the deck of the Toliman. She shifted out of the way so that Fredricks could follow and turned hear head to take in the fairly straightforward and standard accoutrements of the small shuttle.

"Closing hatch..." Kirak stated in a perfected sort of informational monotone. "Retracting umbilical... please stand clear of the loading area." He informed to the point that Fredericks seemed to roll his eyes. Kirak then turned to face the duo. His eyes settled first on the young pilot and then on the baggage-burdened Doctor. "I am remote-accessing your shuttle's communication systems now. And I will activate an automated recovery signal. I believe the nearest ship is current the starship Agamemnon." His brow rose. "An older design, refitted Engle-class I believe. But it should have capacity for your shuttle."

Kirak began to turn back to his controls, his fingers falling upon the well-practiced systems to get them back underway. Then he paused and turned his head back to profile. "Welcome aboard," he said with a nod.

Unlike Fredricks, whose eye roll was not missed by his companion, Kim met the Vulcan's tendency toward precision with a grin and repressed the urge to quip
please mind the gap to no one in particular as the the hatch slid back into place like a quiet punctuation at the end of a sentence. Ancient anachronisms, she guessed, would just as likely make Fredricks' eyes roll right out of his skull as they were to elicit a brief confirmation of puzzlement from a Vulcan.

"Thank you Commander," Kim said and then, after another quick scan, set about stowing her baggage. "What brings you to our cozy corner of the universe?" she asked, tossing the question back over her shoulder without actually turning to direct it at Kirak.

"Outpost K-8 did not have a departing berth bound for Deep Space Station Lambda-2 and my previous assignment was due to disembark for Krell space. This shuttlecraft has been assigned to the starship Proxima. I am therefore transporting it to my new assignment." The squeal and tone of keys broke through in a pause as Kirak got the shuttle back underway. The stars leapt into the streaks of warp. "You and your pilot should be able to charter transport from Lambda-2 with only moderate delay. What is your destination?"

Back still turned, Kim huffed out a single amused laugh. "Seems you and I, at least, are going the same way," she tossed back over her shoulder, closing the locker where she'd shoved the smaller of the two bags. "Dr. Kim Standish," she added both by way of introduction notably failing to recall that she had already given him her name when he hailed them, "newly minted medical chief on the Proxima. Mr. Fredricks here is my escort." She paused mid shove of the other bag into a locker to half turn and look at Fredricks. "How have I not already asked if you're also being reassigned or if you just got the short straw to bring me out here?"

Fredricks, who hadn't thought the information of any importance was busily glancing back and forth between the two senior officers with wide eyes and a look of intense dismay. "I, uh... yeah... I'm a relief helmsmen... I mean..." He paused and took a breath as if this new revelation about Standish and Kirak required some additional fortitude. "I was supposed to drop off the Hermes and then wait for assignment, but they sent one over yesterday... Umm... also the Proxima."

Thrusting her hip into the larger unwieldy bag that seemed determined not to cooperate, Kim managed to shove the thing into the locker and, through a complicated maneuver, slam the door shut just as she removed the counterweight of her hip. "Well if that's not the three of us tied up in a nice bow, I don't know what is." She smirked at Fredricks and then looked at Kirak. "What would they call that on Vulcan? The chances of you picking us up and all three of us being bound for the same new assignment, I mean?"

"Statistically unlikely." The Vulcan stated in deadpan. "However, if I may proffer an Earth saying: expect the unexpected." With the shuttle once again at warp, Kirak could shift the controls to auto-pilot. He sat back and folded his arms across his chest. His Commander's sigil caught the light for a moment. "We are likely to be some of the first to arrive. My last received personnel reports stated that a science officer, communications officer and a security officer are yet to be assigned." With a brief look back, Kirak reported. "We have several hours until we arrive at Lambda-2. I believe there are two accommodation berths should you wish to use them."

Fredricks, whose head was starting to resemble something on a swivel as he looked back and forth between the two, didn't have to be told twice. "I'd appreciate the rest," he said directing the comment to Kirak before adding, "Thank you sirs." With a quick dart of the eyes to see if either might stop him, he headed toward the back of the shuttle in search of a flat surface.

Kim watched him go with a look of wry amusement. "That kid couldn't get away from us any faster if he tried," she murmured, glancing over at Kirak and shaking her head. Rather than take the other berth, though, she stepped into the cockpit, sliding into the seat next to the Vulcan man. She shimmied as if wiggling might somehow make the seat more comfortable, and then glanced over at Kirak. "You didn't say what your assignment on Proxima is," she commented before putting the back of her hand to her mouth to stifle an aborted yawn.

"I am serving as Executive Officer, and Chief Navigator." Kirak reported. "The former was assigned by requirement rather than ambition. The other ranking officer of command-level distinction serves as the ship's engineer. Starfleet Command insisted on a Bridge officer to fill the post. So I was... volunteered." The Vulcan explained. He adjusted the course with a moment of perked attention. "I will nevertheless attempt to be the voice of the crew to the Captain."

Kim huffed out a sound somewhere between a grumble and a laugh. "Well if that doesn't sound just about right then I don't know what does. Nothing like being volun-told you're going to be one step away from the big chair. Hope they at least gave you the rank to match." Arms crossed over her chest and she leaned back a bit, turning her head to eye the Vulcan man. "Sometime I'll have to ask you what your ambition was if it wasn't to be XO."

"I am not motivated by rank," Kirak clarified.

Shoulders twitched up toward her ears and dropped, the tiniest bit of a shrug, before she turned to stare out the view screen ahead of them. It was several long moments before she spoke again. "So you're first up in the line of succession. Has the Captain named a 2XO yet?" This was followed by a half yawn that was stifled by a raised arm brought to her mouth. "Or is that something that'll come out in the wash?"

"I do not know. It is likely the Chief Engineer. However, rank is not the sole determining factor. Such an officer would need bridge certification training to become a Line Officer." Kirak added. "If such a position is to your interest, you may speak to the Captain upon boarding. I would be your proctor for the exam." He added with a glance toward the Human woman.

This suggestion seemed to compel a bark of a laugh from the woman, the sound more surprise than amusement. "No," Standish said, subsiding to a chuckle, "No thank you. I'll just keep with patching 'em all up if that's all the same to you." Another yawn tugged at her mouth and this time she leaned back in her seat, eyes closed. "Never did much care to be in charge of the whole kit and kaboodle," she continued after a beat. "Too many buttons and whistles and interfaces and not enough progress to get my hands around. You heal a person and you've got something tangible right in front of you to show you you're doing good work."

"My understanding of your Earth-based medical discipline suggests that some aspects of command would contradict your oaths." Kirak adjusted their course again with a minute series of gestures. "It is sometimes necessary for a commanding officer to do harm, even sacrificing a healthy body to achieve the broader goals of Starfleet." His gaze shifted, "I myself struggle with this reality. Vulcans prefer to pursue a nonviolent means of conflict resolution. However. That is not always an option." Kirak turned back to his duties. "It will be some time until we arrive. You may wish to rest. I have little need of extended sleep, and will wake you if we encounter another emergency."

Whether or not Standish had heard some or all of the Vulcan pilot's thoughts on the necessity of doing harm while in command he would not be able to tell as a soft snuffle of a snore interrupted his last thought. The doctor was already asleep.

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