“Has Number One shown you the ship?” Pressman asked.
“Not much of it, sir. We came straight here.”
Pressman glanced around him. “A bridge is a bridge, more or less,” he said. “You don’t get the personality of a ship from the bridge. You get that from the crew quarters, public areas, lounges. The bridge is functional, that’s all. Anyway, you’re not on duty until tomorrow, correct? Why don’t you take some time and see the rest of her, and then report back here?”
“I’d like that, sir,” Will agreed.
“Number One, Mr. Riker needs to continue his tour. Perhaps Mr. Boylen can show him around.”
“Yes, sir,” Commander Chamish said. He touched his combadge. “Lieutenant Boylen, to the bridge.”
Captain Pressman, seemingly immersed in other business, sank into his seat and began studying the status display screens built into the chair’s armrests. A few moments later, the turbolift door whooshed open and a tall, sandy-haired officer appeared. He looked like an athlete, with arms that strained his gold uniform sleeves and a jaw that looked like it could cut steel. “Sir?” he said as he entered the bridge.
“Lieutenant Boylen,” Chamish said. “This is Ensign Will Riker. He’s taking over as helm officer, and the captain would like him to get a full tour of the ship.”
Boylen fixed Will with an appraising stare. “Yes, sir,” he said. Then, to Will he added softly, “Let’s go, rookie.”
Will obeyed. As they stepped onto the turbolift, he caught a glint of mischief in the taller man’s eyes. “You sure you’re old enough to be an Academy graduate?” Boylen asked.
“Yes, sir,” Will replied, understanding that he was being set up for something but not comfortable responding to an officer in any other way.
“Because I don’t want any kids getting in the way around here,” Boylen continued. “There are enough kids as it is, what with the families on board. Chamish has three, all by himself.”
“I’m no kid, sir,” Will answered.
“Kind of a babyface, though, aren’t you?” Boylen needled. “You shave yet?”
Will allowed himself a smile. “Yes, sir. Once in a while, sir.”
Boylen laughed at that. “That’s good,” he said. “I like an officer with a little sense of humor. I think you’ll do just fine around here, Ensign Babyface. You can call me Marc.”
“Thank you, sir. Marc.” Will said. “You can call me Will.”
“No thanks,” Marc Boylen responded with a smirk. “ ‘Ensign Babyface’ works for me.”
They started Will’s tour at the starboard warp nacelle. “All right, Will,” Marc said when they arrived there. “This is where you’ll get to know your new home. U.S.S. Pegasus,NCC-53847. How much do you know about her?”
“ Oberth-class starship,” Will recited. “Primary assignments are science and exploration. Named for the flying horse.” Will paused. “That’s about it, I guess.”
“That’s about all you need to know,” Marc told him, suddenly more serious than Will had seen him before. “Because a ship’s history, distinguished as it might be, doesn’t really have an impact on your life. What matters is where she goes from here, and what you can bring to it. What you care about is the ship’s future, not her past, and rightfully so.”
“Makes sense,” Will observed.
“Of course,” Marc went on, “it’s a lie, but then that might apply to anything I tell you, so you’ll have to stay on your toes. You need to know a lot more about the ship than that if you’re going to fly her. But most of what you need, you already know if you’ve flown starships before. The rest you can learn.” They walked along the length of the warp nacelle. “I don’t need to describe the propulsion system to you, do I? Or general starship construction?”
“No, sir,” Will told him.
“That’s good, because if I did, I’d get you booted off this ship so fast your head would spin.”
“What’s your position again, Marc?” Will asked.
“You don’t know because I didn’t tell you, Ensign Baby-face. I’m a tactical officer.”
“So you couldn’t actually boot me off the ship yourself.”
“But I know the captain much better than you do,” Marc pointed out. “So watch your step.”
“Yes, sir,” Will said with a chuckle.
“Now, an Oberth-class ship has a pretty unique construction,” Marc continued, as if he hadn’t interrupted his own lecture for a gag. Will took what he said to be the truth, for the most part, since it agreed with what he knew about Oberths.But he tried to stay alert for any lies. “The saucer section, which contains the bridge, is connected to the port and starboard warp nacelles. The warp nacelles are connected to the long engineering hull. But the saucer itself is not connected to the engineering hull, except via the nacelles.” He drew a diagram in the air to illustrate his point. The long, narrow engineering hull ran horizontally underneath the saucer section, and the large spar that stuck out behind the saucer, with the warp nacelles out to the sides holding the whole thing together.
“But you can beam between the saucer and engineering,” Will speculated.
“Of course, if you need to get there in a hurry. We don’t, right now, so we’re walking. You can also get there by turbolift, although because the lifts need to be shunted off to the nacelles before going down to the engineering hull, there is a momentary delay. It’s not long but it might seem long compared to turbolift operation on other ships.”
They reached a narrow, steep passageway where they had to descend on ladders. “We’re inside the struts now,” Marc said. “There’s not much functionality here, except for connecting the various parts of the ship. It’s an interesting design, but you can see why it didn’t really catch on for other classes of ships.”
He led Will through the engineering section, which looked much like every other engineering section Will had ever seen, and introduced Will to an assortment of engineering staff whose names he knew he wouldn’t remember until he’d met them all again a few times. That didn’t take long, and then they were climbing up, instead of traveling via turbolift, the port strut to the port warp nacelle. The ship, as far as Will could tell, was in excellent shape. If she’d had any problems or damage at any point, it had been thoroughly repaired and patched. When they finally made their way back to the saucer section, Marc showed Will the crew quarters, including his own berth. As a junior officer, Will had a single room, with a bed that tucked into the wall until a control panel was pressed and a washbasin hidden away beneath a shelf. The walls themselves were a soft pastel off-white, with blue-gray trim and accessories here and there. The replicator was built into the wall opposite the bed, and there was a tiny, curved worktable in one corner. Compared to his Academy quarters it was a little cramped, but it would serve his needs. A crew member had already dropped off his belongings, he saw.
“Home sweet home,” he said as he looked at the room.
“Until you get promoted, anyway,” Marc told him. “Then you get a place big enough to turn around in.”
“Good incentive.”
“You can personalize it to your heart’s content, though,” Marc assured him.
“I don’t own much,” Will said, pointing to the duffel he had brought on board. “A couple of books, some uniforms, that’s about it.”
“That’s good,” Marc said with a grin. “If you had any more, you’d have to borrow space from someone else who owned even less than you. And frankly, that person would just be pathetic.”
Leaving his quarters behind, Will followed Marc around the saucer section. He saw the holodeck, the shuttlebay, the transporter rooms, the observation lounge, and perhaps most importantly, he thought, suddenly realizing that it had been many hours since breakfast, the mess hall and lounge. In this area he also saw quite a few civilians walking around. As Marc had suggested, families were common on the ship, and he guessed that some of the people out of uniform were the spouses and children of the crew.