Epilogue – Choices
“Commander, can you wait a moment?”
The remaining members of the senior staff filtered out the briefing room, Lieutenant Oka Saygen lingered in the doorway a moment looking back at her friend, before leaving Xanthe Palmer alone with Captain Srii Harash. Throughout the meeting she’d barely been able to focus on what was being said, but she’d managed to contribute a few times to relevant topics as the new commanding officer went over all information on the current condition of the U.S.S. Polaris and her crew. Obviously, her inattention had been noticed—not a great first staff meeting with a new CO.
In the stillness of the briefing room, Harash clasped his hands together and rested them on the table as he scrutinised her. “I know that we only just met a few hours ago, but even I can tell that something’s bothering you. You’ve been elusive ever since you came back from meeting with the Commodore.”
“I…” she started, not really knowing what she was about to say—which was the root of her problem. “Permission to speak freely, Captain?”
“Whenever we’re alone, Commander, I hope you will be candid.”
She took a breath. “I’m lost, sir.”
“Briefing room one, deck two, U.S.S. Polaris,” he replied immediately, a twinkling in his large orange eyes.
Palmer laughed, appreciating his attempt to put her at ease. This was only her second time having a one-to-one meeting with the Captain, but she was already starting to like him. Of course, that just made her decision all the harder.
Deciding full transparency was best, she laid out to him everything that had happened over the course of the afternoon, from the time he offered her the first officer position onboard, through her meeting with Commodore Müller, running into Captain Valentine and ending with the message from Vice Admiral Kirschner. Once she started she couldn’t stop, it was like a pressure release valve being turned and just let out everything that had been cluttering her mind and making her far more stressed than the day already was.
As soon as she was done she slumped back in the chair, feeling utterly deflated. Harash sat stone still until he closed his nictitating membrane for a second, before focusing back on her.
“Ah,” was all he said.
“I’m sorry, sir, I shouldn’t have dumped all that on you.”
“That’s quite alright, Commander. By the sounds of things you needed to get it off your chest.”
“I wasn’t expecting any of that. I thought that I’d be in with a shot for XO here and I was looking forward to that, but I’ve never had so many different offers on the table before.” She stopped herself, not wanting to let her thoughts get away from her again.
He paused again, studying her closely. “You feel guilty.”
“Sir?”
“You have all these options before you, choices you probably never thought you’d have, so you never even considered them and instead focused on what was likely and achievable. Now you’ve got these wonderful options, you’re thinking about what you could have but then feel racked with guilt about leaving behind the expected path behind.”
She fixed him with a bewildered look, wondering where all that had come from and trying to remember if she’d read anything about him being a counsellor.
He gave her his crooked smile. “Xenopsychology is a hobby of mine, you can thank my second mate for that.
“Though I’ve never faced this predicament, accepting this posting was somewhat similar,” he continued. “I was happy on the Oppenheimer, after all I’d been commanding her for ten years, but when I was offered the Polaris it was a great opportunity even if it did mean leaving behind a crew I had put together from my first officer to the newest crewman. The thought of starting again, from scratch, is a daunting one, however I remember one piece of advice Captain Strenn gave me years ago.”
“What was that?”
He squared his shoulders and steepled his fingers, as Strenn had always done. “Life, like time, always moves forward. It is illogical to embrace what it may bring.”
“You’ve been practicing that.”
“Once or twice,” he admitted. “New assignments are part of being in Starfleet, even ones you never expected, but you can rest assure that this ship will carry on even if you decide not to remain with her, because of what you will leave behind with her crew: your strength and resilience.”
She gave him a sad smile, feeling truly touched by the kind words. “Thank you, Captain.”
“If you do decide being here is what’s in your heart, then I will be honoured to have you by my side, but if you choose another offer then we will wish you the best of luck.”
Harash reached over and patted her forearm. “Take a couple days leave, think it over, do some soul searching, and reach a decision. I can handle everything that’s needed here in that time.”
“If you’re sure?”
“I insist.”
* * * * *
With the ship in dry-dock, undergoing the last of her repairs and diagnostics, the crew making the most of Theta Station’s recreational facilities, as such the laboratories were typically empty—especially at 0300. Palmer had tried to ‘sleep on it’ but it had been no use, all she’d done was toss and turn, so she’d opted to make use of the computer science lab, to take advantage of the large screens. Four of them were illuminated and displayed all the information from the official requests she’d received. What Captain Harash had said was ringing in her ears.
On the Polaris, she knew the ship and crew—she would have some say in new additions to replace those lost. She could do some real good onboard, helping to support and encourage the rookies, giving crewmembers the opportunity to shine and use their initiative. The ship was always busy, with a reputation for hard work and being dependable, at times they were often too busy, but they always got the job done to a high standard—one she would ensure the ship retained. It was familiar and comfortable, she knew she would be happy onboard. Of course, the post came with a promotion to full commander, and a few years down the line she could well make captain. Her new post would also give her a challenge, but she would adapt and grow because of it. She couldn’t really see any downsides to remaining on the Polaris—it might not propel her to the heights of fame such as Kirk or Garth or Harriman, but that didn’t bother her.
Becoming Commodore Müller’s chief of staff was pretty much the exact opposite. It came with a promotion to Commander, but that was where any similarities stopped. It was an administrative and logistical post, one that would put her in a position that reached across the sector and would see her involved in almost everything that went on under the Commodore’s purview. There would be a lot of work, most of which would be foreign to her in the beginning so there was a steep learning curve, but that was something she’d tackled before. It would be the first time in her career she wasn’t serving on a starship, not to mention having no opportunity to conduct research work. The role would also see her heavily involved in both local politics and the politics of Starfleet, and she’d had quite enough of that in recent weeks to last her a lifetime. Of course, under a new sector commander that would be a very different beast. Müller was a gifted officer, one who she could learn a great deal from, not to mention she would be fast-tracked to captaincy and who knew where else after that.
Would the ends really justify the means? she asked herself. Being on Müller’s executive staff was just so far removed from what she had joined Starfleet to do that she really couldn’t see herself settling into it, even if it was only for two or three years. The more she’d thought about her choices, the further it had dropped behind the others.
Then there was the Exeter. Its mission was exactly why she’d enrolled at Starfleet Academy. It harked back to the missions of the previous century, when ships were often out on their own on missions into the unknown, making history with every light-year. She’d read up on the probe findings and it only whetted her appetite, though they hadn’t even scratched the surface of what might be out there. The Dondaris Reach was screaming out to be explored. Though the posting was a lateral move, like the previous two it came with a promotion and would see her retain her duty as second officer—though she suspected that could well step on the toes of whoever was next in line on the Exeter. After five years spent seeking out all of the new discoveries in the Reach, she would set for whatever assignment she wanted afterwards.
She turned to the fourth and final option. During her career, she’d worked a couple of joint operations with the Border Service so had seen them in action and, unlike quite a few in the regular fleet, had a deep respect for what they did. They faced hard missions and tough odds, often in ships that were well past their prime or lacking resources that would’ve made their jobs just that little bit easier. Palmer had never thought of herself as fitting the mould of a ‘Border Dog’, though had been left feeling complemented by the Border Service Commander. The mission also intrigued her, given that they knew so little about the Tzenkethi. First contact had only been made ten years earlier and hadn’t gone well, since then there had been a few skirmishes between ships but nothing too serious, though there were a few analysts that believed war was inevitable with this dictatorship—this grab for territory in the Outland Expanse could well spark that conflict. She’d also read up on the Expanse and quickly understood why a few had nicknamed it the ’Wild West of the Alpha Quadrant’, it was a volatile and hostile place, with plenty of others besides the Tzenkethi interested in the region. She was also surprised to learn that there were still large swatches still not fully explored or charted. Admittedly, she didn’t relish the idea of taking a posting where the prospect of facing conflict was pretty much absolute, but the Border Service did lots of other good work as well and she doubted there would never be a chance of getting bored or restless.
Despite the transfer being to command a cutter, this was the only offer than didn’t come with a promotion (at least not straight away), given that she’d only been a second officer for five years and would be skipping right over being an XO—though that would be reviewed after her first year, assuming she didn’t royally screw up. She did however have her choice of ships from the reserves, though looking at her options that wasn’t exactly a good thing: the Iblis was an old Saladin-Class that had seen better days and a class that was due to be retired from the Border Service completely; the Glasgow was a Baton Rouge-Class ship that was older than her grandparents, though in far worse shape; whilst the newest ships were a pair of Altair’s (previously known as Antares-Class, but with so many ships laying claim to the name the designers had changed it), the Dauntless and the Ranger, one of which had been plagued with technical issues since launch whilst the other was said to be ‘haunted’.
It was the offer from the Border Service that had surprised her the most. The others she could understand (being the next in line, making a good impression, or being amply qualified, respectively), but the offer of her own command was so out of the blue she didn’t really know what to think of it. She knew a few of her old friends from the Academy who would’ve scoffed at the offer, with a not-so-polite ‘no thanks’, but her curiosity was peaked. Would she have what was needed to run her own ship? The opportunity was huge, even if it was likely to be career suicide—there weren’t many that managed to transfer back to the regular fleet after a stint in the Border Service.
If that’s true, why can’t I stop thinking about it?
“Huh.” The surprised noise echoed in the quiet lab. “Well, I guess I have my answer.”
* * * * *
END
I mean it this time.
