By Nathan Warner
A chance encounter while walking along the San Fransisco coast reinvests a young cadet in his desire to make it through Starfleet
It had been a rough week for Cadet Elliot Ordon. First was his Astronav class - he'd completely botched his Holodeck exam, skipping his shuttle off three asteroids into a blaze of glory in the belt, ending in his instructor's protracted sigh. Then, his accidental inversion of his warp field in Warp Dynamics got him a bad grade and some jeers from his nemesis, Cadet Rodgers. Finally, today, his advisor Admiral Anders took him aside and questioned his motivation for selecting the command track.
"Starfleet is very demanding, Mr. Ordon. I tell you this, because we have to be demanding to get quality. To be perfectly honest, your scores to date don't bode well for command," he said. "You seem to lack the necessary fiber we look for in this role - perhaps you should think about the merchant marine? They are always looking for competent captains, skilled pilots, or at least passable crewmen." Elliot shuffled from the office in silent shame - a walk many washed-up cadets had taken over the years.
With his soul crushed, Elliot strode aimlessly from the Presidio Grounds of Starfleet Academy to the cliffs of Marshall's beach with the old gun placements still lying there as historical monuments. Next to these time-defeated monuments, Elliot contemplated his own crumbling prospects. Why had he fought so hard to get into Starfleet Academy only to find himself foundering? The Pacific Ocean stretched out in cold grey waves to the embrace of the cold grey skies. The fog and mists of May drenched his spirits even more. He was in such a daze, he wasn't sure how he'd even gotten there or how to get back in the fog.
"The merchant marine!" Elliot muttered bitterly. The words tasted sour in his mouth and he spat over the cliff edge to the ocean below. Admiral Anders' advise had eaten away at the ashes of his prospects, each and every word like a smoldering ember consuming his dreams.
Suddenly, His thoughts were wrenched from his mind by a deafening roar rending the atmosphere. Elliot physically jumped and glanced up. Out over the waves to the north, a giant shape emerged from the mist banks, heading south. It was a ship! But not just a shuttle or a transport. It was too large - it was a starship! The silhouette of the ship was unmistakable.
"A Defiant!" Elliot gasped. The ship banked in a long arc toward the North, following the beach up towards the Golden Gate Bridge. The ship was coming straight for him! It was so low to the waves, Elliot was looking down on it - unable to move, mesmerized by its grace as the starship thundered along the beach. He was too petrified by the awesome power of the ship to even step back from the cliff edge as it came rumbling by like a freight train of comets.
The ship banked its starboard engine up. Was it waving at him? Yes! The crew must have seen him! The ship banked up and rose, gaining altitude, exposing its dorsal beauty to him. Elliot saw the registration and time stood still: "U.S.S. Defiant." It was an eternal moment, or at least as close to eternity as a mortal can get. This ship - this Defiant - was the one of his dreams. It was the silver fox of the Dominion War, the Queen of that crucial chessboard conflict!
And then the moment passed and the ship thundered up the beach, climbing above the fog to pass unseen over the Golden Gate Bridge and enter the Bay where it would no-doubt land on a pad to receive yet another commendation for Captain and crew.
As Elliot stared after it in dumbstruck awe, he tugged at his collar. The residual heat from the impulse engines was still driving away the chill in the air and a warm serenity washed over the cadet. As the magnificent ship disappeared vanished from sight, Elliot felt he'd literally been touched by the fire of the heavens - as if a star itself had come down and anointed him! All his doubt had been blown away in those few seconds. The languid stupor that had mired his mind and dragged at his progress had retreated. In that moment, he clutched his perfect clarity - he would be the next captain of the U.S.S. Defiant.
