Withers
Captain
It was cold. The frost embraced the mud under foot making it crunch. The air was crisp and it was sunny. The perfect metaphor, he thought to himself, for the Federation. A sterile environment, bathed in sunlight, where any possibility of a mess was frozen solid by the very atmosphere that bound it all together. He shifted his position on the park bench and leaned back to consider this with a certain bitterness escaping him in the form of an incredulous smirk.
Lieutenant Commander Ezekiel Burk had been at Landing 47 all morning long. It was a popular park for cadets to await test results and for officers to consider their futures as Starfleet Headquarters was only a short walk away. On this Tuesday morning, as he watched others pace back and forth in the thin January air, he judged the state of affairs as a detached outsider looking in.
Watching the callow young ensigns and junior officers, gathered in clusters no doubt reassuring one another of their collective worth and ability, he reminisced of his first years in Starfleet. He had known, then, that his would be a name for the history books. He had known, then, that the galaxy which awaited him was filled with opportunities to define and prove his greatness. He had grown up listening to tales of the legendary Starfleet Captains that championed what it truly meant, not only to be a Starfleet Officer, but ultimately to be a human being. He would add his name to theirs as he knew, in the deep untapped recesses of his person, that he was truly their equal. He would do whatever was necessary to prove it not only to the galaxy but to himself.
The days after graduation turned to weeks, the weeks to months and the months to years. The accomplishments, the promotions, and the praise from his peers all led to this moment at Landing 47 where the feeling that none of it was enough was almost overwhelming. It would have been for anyone so ambitious were it not for the overriding thought that better wasn't coming.
His heroes had lived in a time when the frontier was new, when there was a frontier at all. Space, for his purposes, had been explored. The enemies of the Federation had all been pacified or worse assimilated. This, he thought, was the ultimate injustice. He had been born into a Federation that existed in a universe where the biggest problems seemed to stem from conflicts that could be solved by an assistant counselor- none of it was worthy of his attention as none of it could distinguish him in the eyes of history.
He scoffed and chuckled scornfully aloud, moved at how self-important he could be at times. He didn't retract any of his thoughts as self aggrandizing but nevertheless there was something he found caustically funny about his own egotism. A fresh group of Cadets jogged through the park, all marching in unison, all dressed exactly the same way. He sat forward, clasping his hands together to consider this, when his communicator went off unexpectedly.
“Accosta to Commander Burk” He slapped his combadge harder than he needed to in order to active it, already sour at an assignment he hadn't yet been given. Whatever it was he doubted very much he would enjoy it.
“Go head Lieutenant.” His voice was metallic as it stopped almost immediately in front of his mouth, not for lack of volume, but because of the sheer weight with which each word was uttered.
“The Admiral has asked to see you in her office right away Commander.”
“On my way. Burk out.” He stood up and stretched. He took one last look around Landing 47 imagining this would be the last time he would see it for a while. This Admiral was no doubt about to congratulate him on his recent research findings aboard USS Palisade. She would then, he thought, assign him to some dry, safe, station on the border to continue tinkering with spacial mechanics in order to extend long range sensors even further than he already had. This is what his life in Starfleet would equate to- a good officer who contributed... just like the thousands upon thousands of other good officers who contributed. As the cadets came back, marching along as they went in a loop, he couldn't help but think to himself that they were suckers, fools for thinking they could make any difference. The smartest of them would be lucky to be as distinguished as he was. The rest history had already forgotten. He shook his head and started the short walk to Starfleet Headquarters.
“Lieutenant, take us out of warp, raise shields and arm the forward phasers.”
“Aye Commander.”
Lieutenant Commander Addison Goss sat in the Captains chair of the USS Sarajevo with a conspicuous smile on her face. She relished any chance to use the phrase 'arm forward phasers.' She was a tall and lithe woman. The zeal with which she gave orders, added to her physical appearance, made for a very robust and formidable presence.
“Target within visual range Commander.”
She stood up from her chair and moved closer to the view screen as though she were personally stalking this target. The unwavering nature of her gestures kept the tone on the bridge of the Sarajevo very intense and focused. Hers was a command that demanded professionalism and precision. Any deviation would surely, it was thought, be met with a rebuke sterner than pleasant to imagine.
“On screen.” While her voice was cold it wasn't emotionless. It was plain for anyone to see that she was enjoying this moment, that she was alive in it and that it spoke to her definition.
The view screen illuminated and a comet appeared. The bridge remained quiet save for the hum of the engines and the sound of the Commander's footsteps on the deck plates as she approached the helm.
“Helm- bring us along side and adjust to match its course and heading. Mr. Ostapko- target the ventral side of C-956 and fire forward phasers at 45% yield.”
“Aye sir.” The ship moved along side the comet and the forward phasers impacted its ventral side, dramatically changing its trajectory and visibly reducing it in size.
“Report.”
“C-956 has been reduced in size by 34%. Its trajectory now has it missing the Benzite Asteroid Mining Colony by..., “The Ensign giving the report smiled as he turned from his station to the Commander, to finish “Nearly half a million kilometers. Well done Ma'am.”
She turned from the helm to look at the Ensign in what seemed to be discontent. But then, half a moment later, her austere presence broke and she smiled brightly in return. The crew on the bridge began a collective sigh of relief as she walked back to the Captain's chair to sit. She crossed her legs, pulling the tunic of her uniform taught as she issued a nod of approval to the bridge crew.
“I want a full report on the Captain's desk by 0900. Where the hell did it come from,” she asked rhetorically to the overnight crew on the bridge.
“A few days later and we would have been too far away to get here in time,” came a remark from the Lieutenant, Ostapko, at tactical.
As the mood settled on the Bridge the Commander gave the order to resume their previous course and speed. As she sat in the Captains chair, reading over various departmental reports, she realized her heart was still racing. Her forehead was still damp with anticipation for an event that had concluded with success. This was the first time she'd had the chance to use her particular skill set in nearly a year. Addison Goss was a predator. She had always been athletic and competitive which led her to pursue command since the first day she enlisted with Starfleet. But it wasn't just leading others she thought she was good at. It was leading others to victory where she knew she was distinguished. Her time aboard USS Sarajevo had tempered her want to fight which she had, until this moment, viewed as personal growth.
Noting how her heart raced, how she could feel every aspect of the world around her, and how she became absolutely certain of her abilities in that moment she started to think of her tempered wants less as the product of an evolving persona and more the traits of a domesticated wild animal. The idea didn't sit well with her.
“That comet,” she thought to herself sitting in the Captains chair, “is that your only battlefield?” This quiet discontent was enough to fuel a return to the austere, stern woman she'd been not an hour previous. How dare an enemy worthy of her deprive her by virtue of not existing?
“Commander, we have an in coming communication from Starfleet Headquarters,” came a message from the communication station, interrupting her thoughts.
“Let the Captain know and then put it through immediately,” she said fecklessly.
“A Commander Ezekiel Burk is requesting you... personally, Commander.”
This surprised her. It was certainly out of the ordinarily for a Commander from Starfleet Headquarters to hail a ship and ask to speak to the third officer in the middle of the night. She didn't know this person and based on the source of the transmission this wasn't a personal call. The oddity of it was reflected in the faces of the bridge crew as she looked quickly around at her peers.
“... Put it through in the conference room. You have the bridge Mr. Ostapko.” She stood up, again pulling her uniform taught, and exited the bridge, headed for the conference room. Addison Goss wasn't the sort to be intimidated. Still, the out-of-the-ordinary nature of this particular call made her uneasy. She saluted two junior officers as she passed them in the corridor just outside her destination. She took a deep breath and entered. Taking the seat that would ordinarily be used by the Captain she activated the monitor using her personal command code.
“I'm Lieutenant Commander Addison Goss- how can I help you Commander..,” she said, staring at the face of a rattled looking Ezekiel Burk for the first time.
“What we have to remember is that first and foremost we are scientists and doctors. While it is easy to get swept up in the political and societal aspects and ramifications of any given situation it is absolutely imperative that we remain detached, honor our oath, and continue the search for truth objectively.”
Ninety sets of eyes were locked unwaveringly on him as he spoke. It was unnerving but he had steeled himself through the entire hour lecture and so he ad libed in a moment of self reassurance at the end. “Remember that the next time you make a joke about the situation on Risa.”
The class broke into light laughter and he smiled gently in return. “Class dismissed,” he said . The cadets began clapping and he politely nodded his head in appreciation.
Lieutenant Commander Dr. Olivier Lane had been hosting cadets from Starfleet Academy who were certified for field training at Deep Space Twelve for the past four months. As part of an agreement with Starfleet Command, he would lecture at Deep Space Twelve in return for use of the unique warp core laboratory on board. The Starfleet Corps of Engineers, the Commander of Deep Space Twelve and skeptics of his work had vocally objected to his team being given exclusive access to the lab for six months on the grounds that his research wasn't likely to produce anything tangible. Studying the long term effects of warp speed on bio-mater in a controlled environment had never been done before, however, and he thought of his work as equally necessary as any other endeavor for which the lab might be used.
The classroom emptied and as the last students were filing out the Commander of Deep Space Twelve chuckled lightly and folded his arms upon entering the room.
“You're a natural, Doctor Lane. You've got a bright future teaching at Starfleet Medical.”
Dr. Lane sighed, busying himself with gathering papers off the podium from which he spoke, anticipating whatever it was the Commander had to say would be caustic if not just irritating.
“'Teaching,' just not anything else, right Commander Stone?”
Commander Stone chuckled again, smugly, unfolded his arms and looked out a window onto the nearby Kazon Nebula.
“Do you know why Starfleet put the Warp Core laboratory on DS12 rather than in San Francisco, Doctor Lane?”
“So scientists could use it without fear of blowing up the Earth and crippling the Federation...sir?”
The Commander laughed at this. While he didn't particularly like Doctor Lane and didn't put much stock into his research he had always appreciated the curt dry wit that he employed without much reflection or self editing. He finished his laugh with a sigh, put his arms behind his back and gazed out at the Nebula again.
“No, Lane, they put it here to scare the Engineers. They put it here because there is nothing beyond this point and if the Engineers send a vessel out beyond DS12 there'll be no return for that ship or its crew if their engines fail. It was put here as an incentive, a motive for them to work harder- there is no room for failure out here.”
“I see... well, it's been delightful chatting, but as you know I have a mountain of pape-”
Doctor Lane was cut short when Commander Stone turned from his gazing, descending the steps of the classroom toward the podium to announce,
“Pathfinder III has been green-lit.”
Doctor Lane stopped sorting PADDs and put his hands at either side of the podium leaning forward in a gesture of exasperation.
“...and the final two months of my time with the lab have been cut short so the Corps can move in and begin tests on various forums of newly found dilithium in the hopes of shortening the trip to the galaxy rim.”
“That's what I always thought made a great teacher- the ability to know all the correct answers,” Commander Stone's demeanor was one of gloating. It was clear by his attitude that even if it had been for something less significant any excuse to boot Doctor Lane out of the lab would be met with approval.
“You know Mark,” Doctor Lane said dropping the formalities or any notion of respect, “speed isn't the only way to explore the galaxy... and nobody likes a smart ass.” He took the stack of papers from the podium and prepared to exit the classroom, marching in an obviously perturbed way past the Commander.
“Oh, Doctor Lane- one more thing. The USS Sarajevo is making an unscheduled stop here and should arrive within the hour. I'm told that a Lieutenant Commander Addison Goss needs you to meet her at the airlock just as soon as they arrive.”
“Why?”
“Captain Benson couldn't say. The Sarajevo is supposed to be headed in the opposite direction. He seemed annoyed with whatever is going on- it's impressive Lane, you're a nuisance to people who haven't even met you.” The Commander smiled and walked off chuckling smugly to himself.
Doctor Lane sat down in contemplation. What would a Lieutenant Commander from an Imperious Class ship want with him? That thought evaporated quickly though. Whatever it was she wanted would be made apparent very soon. How he was ever going to conduct and complete his research without any real backing was the real question. He was going to have to tell his team that they would all be being reassigned shortly. It was a saddening thought and he was remorseful he hadn't spent more time with them in a casual atmosphere when he had the chance. On the bright side, he thought jadedly to himself, he wouldn't have to grade any more ridiculous papers.
“The Federation Council has voted. There isn't anything you can do about this Liz.”
“Like hell there isn't.”
Admiral Elizabeth Macnamera slammed her palm down hard to deactivate the monitor on her desk, ending a heated conversation she'd been having with an old friend.
She relaxed in the great leather chair with her arms on either rest. The lines of wisdom around her eyes and mouth were accentuated by her short gray hair and she seemed to fit perfectly with the dusty, library like office in which she sat.
What was happening was wrong. Every fiber in her being told her it was wrong. The Federation Council was wrong. Her old friend, retired Admiral Douglas Fitzwallace was wrong too. Still, she didn't know what if anything she could do about it. She wasn't the kind of woman to be idle, however, and she resolved at least to try.
“Tea, Earl Gray, hot,” she said to the replicator. She took the tea and saucer in her hand, sipping as she contemplated. 'We're allowing ourselves to become what so many generations have fought vigorously against..' she thought to herself. 'The Federation will be the architect of its own demise...' These thoughts rambled around in her brain. The air remained still and lightly scented by her flowery aroma. The sunlight poured in through the opened old fashioned drapes she had cast over the windows. The quiet hush of her office went on unhindered for over an hour until her melodic yet serious voice broke through it like a hammer shattering glass.
“Computer: Display a list of Starfleet personnel who meet the following psychological and educational profile...”
She sat down the empty tea cup, her decision made.
(Be kind; this was my first attempt at a fan/science fiction writing. Thanks for reading either way and I hope you enjoyed it.)
Lieutenant Commander Ezekiel Burk had been at Landing 47 all morning long. It was a popular park for cadets to await test results and for officers to consider their futures as Starfleet Headquarters was only a short walk away. On this Tuesday morning, as he watched others pace back and forth in the thin January air, he judged the state of affairs as a detached outsider looking in.
Watching the callow young ensigns and junior officers, gathered in clusters no doubt reassuring one another of their collective worth and ability, he reminisced of his first years in Starfleet. He had known, then, that his would be a name for the history books. He had known, then, that the galaxy which awaited him was filled with opportunities to define and prove his greatness. He had grown up listening to tales of the legendary Starfleet Captains that championed what it truly meant, not only to be a Starfleet Officer, but ultimately to be a human being. He would add his name to theirs as he knew, in the deep untapped recesses of his person, that he was truly their equal. He would do whatever was necessary to prove it not only to the galaxy but to himself.
The days after graduation turned to weeks, the weeks to months and the months to years. The accomplishments, the promotions, and the praise from his peers all led to this moment at Landing 47 where the feeling that none of it was enough was almost overwhelming. It would have been for anyone so ambitious were it not for the overriding thought that better wasn't coming.
His heroes had lived in a time when the frontier was new, when there was a frontier at all. Space, for his purposes, had been explored. The enemies of the Federation had all been pacified or worse assimilated. This, he thought, was the ultimate injustice. He had been born into a Federation that existed in a universe where the biggest problems seemed to stem from conflicts that could be solved by an assistant counselor- none of it was worthy of his attention as none of it could distinguish him in the eyes of history.
He scoffed and chuckled scornfully aloud, moved at how self-important he could be at times. He didn't retract any of his thoughts as self aggrandizing but nevertheless there was something he found caustically funny about his own egotism. A fresh group of Cadets jogged through the park, all marching in unison, all dressed exactly the same way. He sat forward, clasping his hands together to consider this, when his communicator went off unexpectedly.
“Accosta to Commander Burk” He slapped his combadge harder than he needed to in order to active it, already sour at an assignment he hadn't yet been given. Whatever it was he doubted very much he would enjoy it.
“Go head Lieutenant.” His voice was metallic as it stopped almost immediately in front of his mouth, not for lack of volume, but because of the sheer weight with which each word was uttered.
“The Admiral has asked to see you in her office right away Commander.”
“On my way. Burk out.” He stood up and stretched. He took one last look around Landing 47 imagining this would be the last time he would see it for a while. This Admiral was no doubt about to congratulate him on his recent research findings aboard USS Palisade. She would then, he thought, assign him to some dry, safe, station on the border to continue tinkering with spacial mechanics in order to extend long range sensors even further than he already had. This is what his life in Starfleet would equate to- a good officer who contributed... just like the thousands upon thousands of other good officers who contributed. As the cadets came back, marching along as they went in a loop, he couldn't help but think to himself that they were suckers, fools for thinking they could make any difference. The smartest of them would be lucky to be as distinguished as he was. The rest history had already forgotten. He shook his head and started the short walk to Starfleet Headquarters.
“Lieutenant, take us out of warp, raise shields and arm the forward phasers.”
“Aye Commander.”
Lieutenant Commander Addison Goss sat in the Captains chair of the USS Sarajevo with a conspicuous smile on her face. She relished any chance to use the phrase 'arm forward phasers.' She was a tall and lithe woman. The zeal with which she gave orders, added to her physical appearance, made for a very robust and formidable presence.
“Target within visual range Commander.”
She stood up from her chair and moved closer to the view screen as though she were personally stalking this target. The unwavering nature of her gestures kept the tone on the bridge of the Sarajevo very intense and focused. Hers was a command that demanded professionalism and precision. Any deviation would surely, it was thought, be met with a rebuke sterner than pleasant to imagine.
“On screen.” While her voice was cold it wasn't emotionless. It was plain for anyone to see that she was enjoying this moment, that she was alive in it and that it spoke to her definition.
The view screen illuminated and a comet appeared. The bridge remained quiet save for the hum of the engines and the sound of the Commander's footsteps on the deck plates as she approached the helm.
“Helm- bring us along side and adjust to match its course and heading. Mr. Ostapko- target the ventral side of C-956 and fire forward phasers at 45% yield.”
“Aye sir.” The ship moved along side the comet and the forward phasers impacted its ventral side, dramatically changing its trajectory and visibly reducing it in size.
“Report.”
“C-956 has been reduced in size by 34%. Its trajectory now has it missing the Benzite Asteroid Mining Colony by..., “The Ensign giving the report smiled as he turned from his station to the Commander, to finish “Nearly half a million kilometers. Well done Ma'am.”
She turned from the helm to look at the Ensign in what seemed to be discontent. But then, half a moment later, her austere presence broke and she smiled brightly in return. The crew on the bridge began a collective sigh of relief as she walked back to the Captain's chair to sit. She crossed her legs, pulling the tunic of her uniform taught as she issued a nod of approval to the bridge crew.
“I want a full report on the Captain's desk by 0900. Where the hell did it come from,” she asked rhetorically to the overnight crew on the bridge.
“A few days later and we would have been too far away to get here in time,” came a remark from the Lieutenant, Ostapko, at tactical.
As the mood settled on the Bridge the Commander gave the order to resume their previous course and speed. As she sat in the Captains chair, reading over various departmental reports, she realized her heart was still racing. Her forehead was still damp with anticipation for an event that had concluded with success. This was the first time she'd had the chance to use her particular skill set in nearly a year. Addison Goss was a predator. She had always been athletic and competitive which led her to pursue command since the first day she enlisted with Starfleet. But it wasn't just leading others she thought she was good at. It was leading others to victory where she knew she was distinguished. Her time aboard USS Sarajevo had tempered her want to fight which she had, until this moment, viewed as personal growth.
Noting how her heart raced, how she could feel every aspect of the world around her, and how she became absolutely certain of her abilities in that moment she started to think of her tempered wants less as the product of an evolving persona and more the traits of a domesticated wild animal. The idea didn't sit well with her.
“That comet,” she thought to herself sitting in the Captains chair, “is that your only battlefield?” This quiet discontent was enough to fuel a return to the austere, stern woman she'd been not an hour previous. How dare an enemy worthy of her deprive her by virtue of not existing?
“Commander, we have an in coming communication from Starfleet Headquarters,” came a message from the communication station, interrupting her thoughts.
“Let the Captain know and then put it through immediately,” she said fecklessly.
“A Commander Ezekiel Burk is requesting you... personally, Commander.”
This surprised her. It was certainly out of the ordinarily for a Commander from Starfleet Headquarters to hail a ship and ask to speak to the third officer in the middle of the night. She didn't know this person and based on the source of the transmission this wasn't a personal call. The oddity of it was reflected in the faces of the bridge crew as she looked quickly around at her peers.
“... Put it through in the conference room. You have the bridge Mr. Ostapko.” She stood up, again pulling her uniform taught, and exited the bridge, headed for the conference room. Addison Goss wasn't the sort to be intimidated. Still, the out-of-the-ordinary nature of this particular call made her uneasy. She saluted two junior officers as she passed them in the corridor just outside her destination. She took a deep breath and entered. Taking the seat that would ordinarily be used by the Captain she activated the monitor using her personal command code.
“I'm Lieutenant Commander Addison Goss- how can I help you Commander..,” she said, staring at the face of a rattled looking Ezekiel Burk for the first time.
“What we have to remember is that first and foremost we are scientists and doctors. While it is easy to get swept up in the political and societal aspects and ramifications of any given situation it is absolutely imperative that we remain detached, honor our oath, and continue the search for truth objectively.”
Ninety sets of eyes were locked unwaveringly on him as he spoke. It was unnerving but he had steeled himself through the entire hour lecture and so he ad libed in a moment of self reassurance at the end. “Remember that the next time you make a joke about the situation on Risa.”
The class broke into light laughter and he smiled gently in return. “Class dismissed,” he said . The cadets began clapping and he politely nodded his head in appreciation.
Lieutenant Commander Dr. Olivier Lane had been hosting cadets from Starfleet Academy who were certified for field training at Deep Space Twelve for the past four months. As part of an agreement with Starfleet Command, he would lecture at Deep Space Twelve in return for use of the unique warp core laboratory on board. The Starfleet Corps of Engineers, the Commander of Deep Space Twelve and skeptics of his work had vocally objected to his team being given exclusive access to the lab for six months on the grounds that his research wasn't likely to produce anything tangible. Studying the long term effects of warp speed on bio-mater in a controlled environment had never been done before, however, and he thought of his work as equally necessary as any other endeavor for which the lab might be used.
The classroom emptied and as the last students were filing out the Commander of Deep Space Twelve chuckled lightly and folded his arms upon entering the room.
“You're a natural, Doctor Lane. You've got a bright future teaching at Starfleet Medical.”
Dr. Lane sighed, busying himself with gathering papers off the podium from which he spoke, anticipating whatever it was the Commander had to say would be caustic if not just irritating.
“'Teaching,' just not anything else, right Commander Stone?”
Commander Stone chuckled again, smugly, unfolded his arms and looked out a window onto the nearby Kazon Nebula.
“Do you know why Starfleet put the Warp Core laboratory on DS12 rather than in San Francisco, Doctor Lane?”
“So scientists could use it without fear of blowing up the Earth and crippling the Federation...sir?”
The Commander laughed at this. While he didn't particularly like Doctor Lane and didn't put much stock into his research he had always appreciated the curt dry wit that he employed without much reflection or self editing. He finished his laugh with a sigh, put his arms behind his back and gazed out at the Nebula again.
“No, Lane, they put it here to scare the Engineers. They put it here because there is nothing beyond this point and if the Engineers send a vessel out beyond DS12 there'll be no return for that ship or its crew if their engines fail. It was put here as an incentive, a motive for them to work harder- there is no room for failure out here.”
“I see... well, it's been delightful chatting, but as you know I have a mountain of pape-”
Doctor Lane was cut short when Commander Stone turned from his gazing, descending the steps of the classroom toward the podium to announce,
“Pathfinder III has been green-lit.”
Doctor Lane stopped sorting PADDs and put his hands at either side of the podium leaning forward in a gesture of exasperation.
“...and the final two months of my time with the lab have been cut short so the Corps can move in and begin tests on various forums of newly found dilithium in the hopes of shortening the trip to the galaxy rim.”
“That's what I always thought made a great teacher- the ability to know all the correct answers,” Commander Stone's demeanor was one of gloating. It was clear by his attitude that even if it had been for something less significant any excuse to boot Doctor Lane out of the lab would be met with approval.
“You know Mark,” Doctor Lane said dropping the formalities or any notion of respect, “speed isn't the only way to explore the galaxy... and nobody likes a smart ass.” He took the stack of papers from the podium and prepared to exit the classroom, marching in an obviously perturbed way past the Commander.
“Oh, Doctor Lane- one more thing. The USS Sarajevo is making an unscheduled stop here and should arrive within the hour. I'm told that a Lieutenant Commander Addison Goss needs you to meet her at the airlock just as soon as they arrive.”
“Why?”
“Captain Benson couldn't say. The Sarajevo is supposed to be headed in the opposite direction. He seemed annoyed with whatever is going on- it's impressive Lane, you're a nuisance to people who haven't even met you.” The Commander smiled and walked off chuckling smugly to himself.
Doctor Lane sat down in contemplation. What would a Lieutenant Commander from an Imperious Class ship want with him? That thought evaporated quickly though. Whatever it was she wanted would be made apparent very soon. How he was ever going to conduct and complete his research without any real backing was the real question. He was going to have to tell his team that they would all be being reassigned shortly. It was a saddening thought and he was remorseful he hadn't spent more time with them in a casual atmosphere when he had the chance. On the bright side, he thought jadedly to himself, he wouldn't have to grade any more ridiculous papers.
“The Federation Council has voted. There isn't anything you can do about this Liz.”
“Like hell there isn't.”
Admiral Elizabeth Macnamera slammed her palm down hard to deactivate the monitor on her desk, ending a heated conversation she'd been having with an old friend.
She relaxed in the great leather chair with her arms on either rest. The lines of wisdom around her eyes and mouth were accentuated by her short gray hair and she seemed to fit perfectly with the dusty, library like office in which she sat.
What was happening was wrong. Every fiber in her being told her it was wrong. The Federation Council was wrong. Her old friend, retired Admiral Douglas Fitzwallace was wrong too. Still, she didn't know what if anything she could do about it. She wasn't the kind of woman to be idle, however, and she resolved at least to try.
“Tea, Earl Gray, hot,” she said to the replicator. She took the tea and saucer in her hand, sipping as she contemplated. 'We're allowing ourselves to become what so many generations have fought vigorously against..' she thought to herself. 'The Federation will be the architect of its own demise...' These thoughts rambled around in her brain. The air remained still and lightly scented by her flowery aroma. The sunlight poured in through the opened old fashioned drapes she had cast over the windows. The quiet hush of her office went on unhindered for over an hour until her melodic yet serious voice broke through it like a hammer shattering glass.
“Computer: Display a list of Starfleet personnel who meet the following psychological and educational profile...”
She sat down the empty tea cup, her decision made.
(Be kind; this was my first attempt at a fan/science fiction writing. Thanks for reading either way and I hope you enjoyed it.)
-Withers-
Last edited:
