[Cockpit, SS T'Rus of the Vulcan Merchant Fleet, registry NSP-16934]
Solluk reclined comfortably in the cockpit of the T'Rus, occupying its only chair. The T'Rus was an aging T'Lys class cargo transport vessel, significantly older than Solluk himself. The T'Lys class transports were mostly automated 100-meter ships whose warp cores had been removed and re-purposed to serve other vessels decades ago. Those other vessels were themselves probably decommissioned by now. Meanwhile, the remaining fusion powerplants on board could propel the ship at a tepid Warp 1.2 ...in an emergency. So far, Solluk had never had cause to exceed Warp 1. His duties never took him more than a few light-hours away from Vulcan.
Before these ships had been stripped and automated, they had been of the T'Sor class, a type of vessel used to ferry Vulcan colonists and supplies to points several sectors away. Now, they were glorified cargo trucks, bringing supplies and occasionally passengers to and from the outskirts of the Vulcan system. Piloting such a craft was not a particularly prestigious duty, but it was one Solluk found gratifying.
Among Vulcans, Solluk had only a middling intellect. He had scored slightly below average in academic tests during his primary and secondary education. When it came time for him to apply for admission to an institute of higher learning, he had selected a technical school instead of a university. By that point in his life, he'd known that he was not meant to be a scientist, doctor, computer specialist, or engineer. He would not be the sort of son that parents enjoyed talking about with their colleagues. Rather, his parents would be quietly hoping that he would marry a smarter woman, and thus his children might do better in the genetic lottery than he had.
That plan was well underway, in fact. He had been courting T'Lora, a low-ranking administrator at the Logistics Bureau. She did not have a prestigious degree, but she had one nonetheless. If things proceeded well, there was every reason to think that their children would be superior specimens. With luck, they would inherit Solluk's physical talents- he was both strong and nimble- and also gain a measure of their mother's intellect. They might become anything they could aspire to.
In the meantime, piloting a cargo transport was the best life Solluk could imagine for himself. It was far superior to working in construction, or food services, or any of the many other menial professions suitable to one of his capability. Here, he was able to enjoy the solitude of being the lone operator of a spacecraft, and also the beatific majesty of space.
Not that he was likely to use the term 'beatific majesty' anywhere outside the confines of his own mind. In Vulcan society, such observations could be mistaken as being overly... emotional.
"This is the SS Soyan, on approach to docking port seventeen."
The words filled the cockpit, delivered in the calm, even way common to Vulcans. Solluk enjoyed listening to the local system traffic as he piloted the T'Rus on cargo runs. It kept his mind occupied.
"Acknowledged, Soyan. You are clear to proceed with your docking approach."
Solluk was coming up on an orbital ship maintenance facility, now. Making a slight adjustment to his course, he moved the T'Rus in a high-arcing elliptical path that would keep it clear of the station. Below him, he could see a Starfleet science ship docked with the facility, receiving some manner of repair or upgrade. Had he been human, and not a dispassionate Vulcan, he might have looked with longing at the vessel, admiring the exciting lives of exploration and discovery enjoyed by those who crewed her.
A new voice interrupted the tranquility of the subspace chatter:
"You Starfleet Bastards! You took her from me! My T'Mora!"
This was not the sort of exclamation one expected to hear in Vulcan space. He glanced at his console, directing the ship's computer to isolate the source of the transmission. The sensor display focused on a large shuttle, moving at an unhealthy velocity. It quickly became apparent to Solluk that the shuttle was on a course to intersect with the nearby orbital docking facility. In fact, the shuttle was aimed squarely at the Starfleet vessel. Locked into the docking apparatus as it was, the science ship would have no opportunity to take evasive maneuvers to avoid the shuttle.
Possible responses to this unlikely threat filled Solluk's mind. He quickly discarded one after another, deeming them insufficient or unlikely to succeed.
Only one solution remained.
He tapped the commands that would release the safety limiters on the T'Rus' impulse drives, and then he redlined them so that he could reach the errant shuttle in time. The shuttle seemed to grow in size beyond the cockpit window as his ship surged forward. Proximity alerts began sounding in the cockpit.
"Warning," the Computer announced, "Collision is imminent."
"That is," Solluk declared unnecessarily, "the intention."
A bright flash of light engulfed the cockpit as the T'Rus impacted with the shuttle. Somewhere in the bulkheads, a power relay was damaged, sending an uncontrolled flood of electrical energy through the cockpit. A bright lance of electrons shot down through Solluk's body, cooking him in his seat. Addled as he was by hundreds of joules of electrical energy, he could take no satisfaction from the end result of his collision. The shuttle had been knocked off-course, narrowly missing its intended target.
********************
[Solluk's quarters, USS Discovery]
Solluk awoke, gasping loudly as if in reaction to the electrical charge seizing his muscles.
But no... that was only a memory.
A nightmare of something that had happened years ago.
He regained control of his breath, listening to see if the loud warble of his roommate's snoring had been interrupted. Thankfully, the corpulent Tellarite snored on, unaware of Solluk's distress.
Slipping from his top bunk, Solluk landed with easy grace on the carpeted floor. He entered the restroom, only activating the lights once the door had closed behind him. A small chronometer display showed that he had only been asleep for a few hours. Well... he had no desire to return to such memories. He used the toilet, showered, and shaved.
Throughout the process, he had some thoughts about the current mission. Exiting the bathroom, he dressed himself silently in the dark and left the room. Once he was in the hall, he tapped his communicator.
=^= "Computer," he instructed, "please identify the next-highest ranking individual above myself, within my chain of command, who is still aboard the Discovery."
(tag)
