The Enlisted Spine
Posted on Fri Jul 31, 2026 @ 6:31pm by Commander Vor’keth, son of Torghal & Master Chief Petty Officer Marion Sunday
1,658 words; about a 8 minute read
Mission:
Jubilee
Location: Command Chief’s Office, Deep Space 5
Vor’keth had remembered the name before he saw the file.
Marion Sunday.
Starfleet Intelligence B School, Earth. A training review board that had lasted three hours longer than scheduled because a room full of officers had tried to make a failed tactical simulation sound like a useful teaching opportunity. Vor’keth remembered the scenario: civilian convoy, bad sensor data, enemy feint, three competing command priorities, and a cadet group that had collapsed under the weight of trying to save everyone at once.
Most of the instructors had discussed doctrine.
Sunday had discussed the moment the crew stopped believing their orders made sense.
Vor’keth had respected that.
Now the same man was Command Master Chief of Deep Space 5, senior enlisted authority aboard a station currently swollen with comet pilgrims, merchants, diplomats, opportunists, and the sort of cheerful disorder that made security officers grow old in shifts. The posting was fitting. A station did not run on command orders alone. It ran on the people who translated those orders into work, discipline, resentment, loyalty, and endurance.
Officers often forgot that.
Vor’keth did not.
He stood outside Sunday’s office in full Klingon armour, House baldric crossing his chest, the black patch over his left eye stark beneath the old scar that cut through brow and cheek. He had already seen enough of the docking concourse to know DS5 was under strain. The patrols were thin, the access lanes cluttered, and the station’s temporary cheer had begun to develop sharp edges.
That was Security’s problem.
It was also Sunday’s.
Vor’keth touched the chime and waited.
When the door opened, he stepped inside with the measured stillness of a warrior entering ground that belonged to another man. His one visible eye moved briefly across the office, taking in its order, its use, its signs of long habit. Then his attention settled forward.
“Master Chief Sunday,” Vor’keth said, voice low and even. “It has been some years since Earth.”
A faint pause followed, not hesitation, but acknowledgement of old memory placed carefully on the table.
Billy turned away from his computer screen on which he had reviewed security updates. It seemed that he arrived at this station just in time for the manure to hit the fan. He regarded the Klingon for a moment and then it dawned on him. "Vor'keth you ole SOB. How the hell have you been. Pull up a chair." The Klingon was an exchange instructor that Billy had gotten to know while they both taught at the Academy. The two had bonded over their view of the galaxy at large and their teaching methods.
Vor’keth gave a low grunt that might, from another man, have been a laugh.
“I have been alive,” he said, taking the offered chair with the heavy restraint of a man who made even sitting look deliberate. “Busy enough. Bloodied less often than I expected. Irritated more often than I deserve.”
His one good eye settled on Sunday, and for a moment the years between Earth and Deep Space 5 seemed to fold down into something smaller.
“You look well, Sunday. Which means either this station has not yet tried hard enough to kill you, or you remain too stubborn to oblige it.”
He glanced once towards the terminal, then back.
“Tell me. Is the crew holding under this comet madness, or only pretending well?”
"Both my friend both. I am still new to the station, but I am sure that if it tried to kill me I would have to refuse to oblige." Billy took a second to think about exactly how much he wanted to tell his old friend. At the moment the fact that the CO and XO were missing was not common knowledge. "The crew is handling the comet as best as anyone would. I for one will be happy when the damned thing passes and we can all get back to some sort of normalcy. I mean it is just a rock floating through space. How about you? Anything you need to report?"
Vor’keth gave a quiet rumble of agreement. “The rock is not the danger. What people choose to become in its shadow is.”
He leaned back slightly, though little about him ever looked relaxed. “There was a disturbance on the promenade. Drunken pilgrims, a vendor, poor judgement. I ended it before Security arrived. No serious injuries, though several egos may not recover.”
His eye narrowed faintly. “The concourse is overcrowded, patrols are thin, and the access lanes are cluttered. Nothing beyond correction yet.”
A beat passed.
“How long has the crew been operating at this pace?”
"Since word of the comet started. It was at that time that people started to flood onto the station to see the thing." Billy began, then it was his turn to narrow his eyes. "What did you mean by what people choose to become in its shadow?" There was something to the way that the Klingon said that. Something that may help in the situation with the Captain and Commander.
Vor’keth studied him for a moment before answering.
“Among my House there is an old account of a comet that crossed the sky before the Battle of Khar’ven. Some called it a promise of victory. Others claimed it warned of betrayal. Warriors who had fought beside one another for years began watching the heavens instead of their enemies. By the time battle came, fear and ambition had already divided them.”
His fingers rested against the arm of the chair.
“The comet promised nothing. It merely gave each warrior permission to believe what was already inside him.”
Vor’keth’s eye shifted briefly towards the terminal.
“That is what I mean. Crowds do not become foolish because a stone passes through space. The stone gives them an excuse. The frightened become desperate. The greedy become bold. Those already hiding something may decide the moment has come to act.”
Billy nodded sagely. "Your story is on to something. I will have to alert Security and make sure they keep an eye out for the emboldened. I am looking forward to when all of this will be over and gone." The legend that Vor'keth told brought the missing Captain and XO to Billy's mind. Could someone have become so emboldened that they took the two officers.
Vor’keth’s brow lowered slightly.
“Security should already be watching them,” he said. “Crowds, intoxication and opportunists are expected. The danger lies in what does not fit.”
His eye remained on Sunday.
“Someone changing routine. Accessing places they should not. Acting with confidence they did not possess yesterday.” A brief pause. “You are thinking of something specific.”
"You know me well old friend." Calhoun reached for his pipe and paused before lighting it. He looked at Vor'keth as if to ask if the Klingon would mind. "It seems that the Captain of this station and the Executive Officer have gone missing. Security is of course working the case. But your story has made me wonder if someone was emboldened to do something exceptionally stupid."
Vor’keth’s expression hardened.
“Missing?”
The word came out low, stripped of everything but its weight. He leaned forward, forearms settling against his knees, his attention fixed entirely on Sunday now.
“People become bold when they no longer fear the eyes upon them,” he said. “Remove a station’s Captain and Executive Officer, and some will begin to believe nothing is watching.”
His jaw tightened beneath the old scars.
“How long have they been gone?”
"A matter of hours as of now. Security is searching for them or for evidence of where they may have gone. At the moment we are looking to make it business as usual. I would like to know how someone could kidnap two Starfleet Officers without anyone knowing, without triggering any alarms. Nothing." That was something that Sunday had racked his brain over. "The Second Officer and myself are watching and at the helm as it were. I would be remiss if I did not say that we could use some help."
Vor’keth sat back, the leather of his armour giving a low creak.
“You have my help.”
His eye shifted briefly to the pipe in Sunday’s hand, then returned to him.
“If no alarm sounded, the station did not believe they were being taken. Either they went willingly, or whoever moved them carried authority the systems recognised.” His mouth hardened. “A fortress does not challenge a familiar banner until the blade is already inside.”
He rose from the chair.
“Give me the access and transport records. Someone has looked at them as a Starfleet officer. I will look at them as an enemy.”
Marion put his pipe in his mouth with a smile. Yes. That was what we need someone who thinks like an enemy. he thought. With a few deft taps Sunday had the data transferred to a PADD and handed it to Vor'keth. "Thank you old friend. Keep this between us and report any findings to me." At the moment he wanted to keep this under wraps, Billy did not know who or what was behind this and who was involved.
Vor’keth took the PADD and closed one hand around it.
“You have my word. No one will hear of this from me.”
He rose, the chair shifting softly behind him as his armour settled across his shoulders. For a moment he regarded Sunday with the old familiarity of Earth between them, then gave a single firm nod.
“I will tell you what I find, old friend. Until then, keep your station standing.”
With that, Vor’keth turned and left, the PADD tucked beneath one arm and the door sealing behind him.
Command Master Chief Petty Officer Marion "Billy" Sunday
Chief of the Station
Deep Space Five
Commander Vor’keth, son of Torghal
Master-at-arms
Deep Space Five
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