Through Open Doors

Posted on 01 Sep 2025 @ 5:19pm by Captain Sabrina Corbin

2,170 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Fractured Accord
Location: USS Arawyn
Timeline: 242509.01

OOC: Away we go. Anyone who hasn’t arrived yet can backlog it.

=/\= Ready Room =/\=

Captain Sabrina June Corbin nursed the warmth of her coffee mug between both hands, the steam curling upward in gentle spirals. Merrick had been ready for her, even at this early hour.

Five forty-five hours. The first true morning of her command. The readiness reports had streamed into her console overnight, most routine, others requiring a word or two of clarification. But the cadence of it, the rhythm of duty reports, engineering status updates, medical preparedness checks, all of it felt like the heartbeat of a ship finally awake.

Even overnight, they were still taking on new crew, and she noted the arrival in several departments. There were still positions to be filled, but they were not hurting for personnel either.

Sleep had been scarce after the commissioning celebration, but adrenaline and the kind of nervous exhilaration that came with departure did more to sharpen her senses than rest ever could. She had endured far worse stretches at the Academy, back when survival had meant enduring coursework and late watches with only bitter replicator coffee as her ally. Now, it was different. The cup in her hand was her father’s blend of choice: strong, earthy, something she had never quite shaken off. It grounded her.

She leaned forward, toggling the console into record mode.

Captain’s Log, Stardate 242508.31.

“USS Arawyn departing Starbase 369 at oh-six-hundred hours. Convoy formation with attached vessels is planned. Escort detail includes the USS Curie, Nova-class science vessel under Captain Mikhail Dobrev; the USS Newton, Oberth-refit, commanded by Captain Aditi Rao; and the USS Ardent, Olympic-variant hospital ship under the care of Captain Ellie Garnett. Our mission: to escort and protect these assets en route to Tavrik III, where terraforming and ecological stabilization efforts are ongoing. The run is projected to be straightforward. Two days at warp six along the buoy corridor. Routine, one might say.”

She let the pause linger, sipping her coffee before continuing.

“Still, it is the Arawyn’s first operational run under my command. Routine or not, the protection of science and medical vessels remains one of the Federation’s most critical endeavors. These crews are unarmed; their work is delicate, their cargo fragile, and their mission vital. We are the shield that allows them to plant seeds of life where there were none. For all that the orders sound plain on paper, there is nothing mundane about the responsibility. Arawyn will be tested, and so will I. End log.”

She closed the record, exhaled slowly, and set the cup down. The chronometer ticked forward another minute. Time to be on the bridge.

=/\= Bridge =/\=

She exited the ready room to the hum of the bridge, and something more. A low, sultry saxophone line curled through the air, the unmistakable strains of Take Five by Dave Brubeck. Lieutenant Powell, of course.

The corner of Sabrina’s mouth tugged into a smirk. She let the moment linger a heartbeat, then said dryly, “Computer, end audio playback.”

The music cut off mid-bar, leaving the usual background thrum of consoles and environmental systems in its place.
Powell only half-turned in his seat, feigning innocence with a little shrug. “Keeps the nerves steady, Captain.”

Corbin arched a brow at him but said nothing more, moving to the center seat. The smirk hadn’t entirely left her face.
“Status?” she asked, tone returning to business.

Her XO, Commander Holt, responded crisply. “All stations report ready. Dockmaster confirms we are cleared for departure. Engineering has released power feeds, umbilicals still attached.”

“Very good,” Corbin said, settling into the chair with both hands resting lightly on the armrests. “Let’s make this clean.”
Her gaze swept the bridge crew, voice even but commanding.

“Operations, signal the dockmaster. Prepare to disengage all moorings and umbilical connections on my mark.”

Alexander Powell acknowledged, hands moving across the console. A moment later: “Umbilicals standing by, moorings holding.”

“Engineering, confirm all shipboard systems are fully on internal power.”

Lieutenant Commander Boren reported, “All green across the board, Captain. No draw from station support.”
“Good. Ops, release umbilicals.”

On the viewer, small indicators winked over to green as the thick power and data lines detached, retracting smoothly into the docking arms.

“Umbilicals clear, Captain. All systems stable.”

Corbin gave the faintest nod. “Now release moorings.”

There was a deeper shudder through the deck plating as the magnetic clamps disengaged. The Arawyn was free.

“Moorings clear. We’re on our own.”

Corbin’s gaze moved to Helm. “M’Leyna, maneuvering thrusters only. Bring us to reverse one-quarter. Ease us straight back.”

The young Chief Flight Officer responded with a steady, “Aye, Captain.” On the main viewscreen, the cavernous bay shifted around them as the Sovereign-class starship slid stern-first from her berth, graceful despite her mass.

“Dockmaster reports bay doors fully open,” Powell announced.

The segmented panels of the starbase’s outer hull peeled apart in practiced rhythm, revealing the glitter of starlight beyond.

The Arawyn continued her slow retreat, thrusters pushing her back across the vast bay until her stern cleared the threshold. Then, with a final pulse, she slipped into open space. The stars stretched wide around her, unbroken, and the glow of Starbase 369 framed her aft quarter.

“Helm, come about, one-eighty. Thrusters only. Put our bow on the corridor.”

The great ship pivoted with stately precision, long hull swinging until her nose pointed toward the waiting stars.
“Now, impulse ahead, one-quarter,” Corbin ordered.

The Arawyn surged forward, her engines a low thrum beneath their feet, leaving the bay lights of Starbase 369 dwindling behind.

“Ops, signal convoy ships Curie, Newton, and Ardent to form up just outside the traffic perimeter. Tactical, maintain shields on standby. Engineering, run a full systems check now that we’re in open space.”
She let her eyes linger on the expanse ahead, dark velvet streaked with the glitter of distant suns. The convoy would assemble in short order, two smaller vessels and the larger Ardent carrying the mass of equipment, a gathering around the great new Sovereign like satellites.

“Lieutenant Powell,” Corbin continued, turning slightly toward the Ops station. “Establish telemetry links with Curie, Newton, and Ardent. I want mirrored status reports displayed here, no delay. If any ship sneezes, we catch it.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Tactical,” her voice sharpened. “Adjust shield harmonics for multi-vessel coverage. If anyone so much as glances the wrong way at this convoy, I want us ready.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Her tone softened slightly as she shifted focus. “Science. Continuous monitoring of stellar cartography and the buoy network. If one goes dark, if any anomaly even whispers at us, I want to know before it becomes a problem.”

“Understood.”

“Medical,” Corbin continued, tapping the arm of her chair, “we’re supporting three additional crews. Preparedness checks for resource sharing are essential. Ensure cross-ship medical access is logged and protocols are clear.”

“Counselor,” she added, turning toward the quiet figure at the rear of the bridge. “This is our first long-haul together. Monitor morale. These crews have been through more ceremonies than missions in the last week; tensions can rise quickly. I’ll want your read, especially with the science teams once we’re underway.”

Her final order came as a message sent to Rhys. He had been sent their mission notes, and she asked him and Tara to keep a quiet ear on Kaldari and Vethari chatter.

Once the convoy had cleared the immediate starbase perimeter, Corbin keyed her console, opening the encrypted channel that tied her to the captains of the attached ships. Their faces filled the viewscreen in neat quadrants: Dobrev’s stern, weathered expression; Rao’s sharp gaze softened by curiosity; Garnett’s calm, steady presence.

“Captains,” Corbin began, her voice formal yet warm, “this is Captain Sabrina Corbin of the USS Arawyn, convoy lead. It’s my honor to serve alongside you on this run.”

She paused, giving each face the courtesy of acknowledgment.

“Our course is plotted. We’ll proceed along the buoy corridor at warp six once clear of the starbase traffic pattern. Convoy formation will hold, with Arawyn at flank. Ops aboard Arawyn will serve as your primary liaison; any system anomalies, personnel needs, or mission concerns are to be reported immediately. No delays, no exceptions.”

Her tone softened for the close, just enough to let her own personality edge through. “This is a routine mission on paper, but I don’t believe in routine where lives are concerned. We’ll make it to Tavrik together. Arawyn has your flank.”
There was a chorus of acknowledgments. The channel closed.

“Lieutenant M’Leyna, warp factor six, steady,” she ordered.

Warp six stretched space into familiar streaks on the viewscreen. Corbin leaned back, studying them in silence. The buoy corridor ensured order, each marker transmitting position and integrity to passing vessels. Two days of this, two days of vigilance.

She rubbed at the corner of her eye, weary but alert. Every mission carried hidden teeth, even those that read as simple escorts. Somewhere out there, beyond the glow of buoys and the hum of warp engines, lay the uncertainty that defined spacefaring life. She would not underestimate it.

=/\= Next Day – Captain’s Quarters =/\=

The next morning came too early, as mornings often did for a captain. Corbin sat in her quarters, breakfast tray half-finished on the table. She wore only her undershirt and trousers, boots kicked off near the door, uniform tunic draped over the back of a chair. Reports scrolled across her PADD: Engineering’s overnight systems checks, convoy telemetry logs, the Counselor’s note about subtle restlessness among the science crews.

She sipped a replicator-produced coffee, coaxing her brain into focus. A routine mission, she reminded herself again. Routine.

The illusion shattered in an instant.

The ship jolted hard, a vibration rippling through the deck plates. The lights dimmed for a heartbeat before the compensators caught up, and the PADD slid from the table with a clatter.

“Bridge to Captain Corbin!” Ops officer Ensign Delaney’s voice came sharp through the comm. “Navigational buoy ahead has detonated, shockwave impacted formation. Newton’s taken heavy damage to her port nacelle!”

Corbin was already on her feet, shrugging into her tunic. “Sound Red Alert. All senior officers to the bridge.”

The ship’s klaxon wailed, scarlet strips chasing around the walls. She snatched up her boots, carrying them as she strode for the turbolift. “I’m on my way.”

=/\= Bridge =/\=

The bridge was alive with activity when she arrived, hair slightly disheveled, expression sharpened by focus. Ensign Delaney was still at Ops, his face pale but steady as he relayed telemetry.

“Report,” Corbin demanded as she crossed to the command chair.

Delaney’s voice was clipped. “Captain, the buoy detonated as we approached. The energy signature is inconsistent with a normal failure. Newton was offset, conducting scans, and she took the brunt of the blast. Moderate hull breaches, nacelle compromised. Arawyn’s shields held, only minor fluctuations.”

Corbin’s jaw tightened. “Acknowledged. Powell, relieve Ops. Boren, get Engineering online. M’Leyna, take Helm.”
The senior officers moved quickly to their stations, the night watch stepping back without question.

“Tactical,” Corbin ordered, eyes snapping to Lieutenant Flammia as he took his post, “raise shields, full spread. Is there anything on scans we should be aware of? Science, give me a read on that debris field, top priority.”

Responses came sharp and fast.

“Medical, Dr Amberlyn,” she continued, “open immediate channel to Newton. Coordinate triage and prepare to beam casualties aboard if their facilities are compromised.”

“Commander Boren, prepare a team. You’ll transport with Security and Medical if necessary, to stabilize the nacelle and sweep for secondary issues.” She glanced back at Aev for his acknowledgement of assembling a team.

She turned toward Helm. “Hold us at impulse, M’Leyna. Bring the convoy into a protective formation around Newton. She’s our priority until she’s stable.”

“Commander Holt, let’s hail the Newton, see what Captain Rao needs directly.” Finally, Corbin tapped her chair’s comm panel. “Mr Rhys report to the bridge. We have a situation to discuss.”

The hum of warp space was gone, replaced by the uneasy stillness of impulse engines. On the main viewscreen, fragments of the buoy drifted in fiery arcs, like scattered embers against the stars, a reminder that the promise of routine had already been shattered.

Corbin stood at the center of it all, her voice steady despite the undercurrent of unease. This was no accident. She could feel it.

The first true test of her command had come.

Captain Sabrina Corbin
Commanding Officer
USS Arawyn

 

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