Starfleet Command
Admiral Horatio Nelson entered Alynna Nechayev's office, nodding to his fellow Admiral. He strode towards the large window, the centrepiece of the room, which provided a magnificent sight overlooking the San Francisco harbour. Nechayev continued with her work, ignoring the man and his mood for the time being. She was not one to be easily intimidated and it would take more than a fellow Admiral to accomplish such a feat.
"Starfleet Command turned down my request to assume command of the Zardanian situation," he finally said.
"I have the matter in hand, Admiral," Nechayev replied.
"You have your hands full with this Dominion business," he said coldly, "I tried to explain that."
"Admiral Dent and Admiral Ross are handling the majority of that," she said without looking up.
"I am more than capable of it, Admiral. With your support Starfleet will turn the reins over to me."
Nechayev put down her data pad and looked the man over, "You are hardly capable of remaining objective when it comes to Commander Dent, Horatio. Starfleet knows that."
"That man..." Horatio spat in anger, "that man killed my son! Starfleet just keeps on promoting him like he's some damn wonder child or something. That should have been my boy as First Officer of the Spector."
First of all he never would have made it to Commander, Nechayev thought to herself, and he'd be just as dead along with everyone else on that mission. "I've heard this before and I've read the reports from Gulum XII, Horatio. What happened to your son was a tragedy but there is little blame you can place on Alexander Dent. He did his duty. You have a very large blind spot when it comes to your son."
"There is more to it than what was in those reports Alynna. I am sure of that."
Nechayev rolled her eyes in disgust, "They were written by your son's own men. There was no conspiracy afoot."
Admiral Nelson snorted and stepped away from the window, "Anyway, Starfleet has placed me as special consultant on this matter. I know the Zardanians better than anyone so whatever decisions you make run them through me first."
"Of course, Horatio. However, there isn't a whole lot for us to do. Dent is pretty much on his own in these circumstances. As mush as I believe in not leaving anyone behind, we simply cannot spare the resources needed to get that ship out of their territory without putting us into another full-scale war. "
"Understood. But keep me appraised, Alynna."
Nechayev nodded and resumed her work as Nelson prepared to leave the room. As he exited the door, Nechayev said to his back, "Admiral, as much as you dislike the Commander, Alex Dent is probably the best hope that ship has of making it home safe. From what I understand of the man, the Zardanians will be quick to want him out of their territory."
Nelson shot the woman a glowering look and left.
Oh, there is one way to save that crew without provoking a war, he thought. It just takes time. And you're wrong about the Zardanians. They might not be quick to be rid of him. They just might be willing to make some sacrifices to get him.
Nelson walked over to his aide and said, "Have the USS Magellan made ready. Inform them we'll be heading for the Zardanian Frontier when she is properly prepared."
The aide blinked a moment and said, "Sir, the Magellan is getting ready for the front line. Starfleet might not like having a Galaxy-class ship diverted for this type of mission."
"You have your orders, Commander. Carry them out. I'm an Admiral and I need that ship for my personal transport."
"Yes...yes, sir," the aide replied reluctantly.
USS Spector – Torpedo Launch (Mess Hall)Three crewmen sat huddled around their table, talking over their drinks in a conspiring fashion. The Launch was essentially deserted, the time being early in the day. All were excited over the latest orders, throwing the occasional anxious look at the stars that streaked by them, elongated by the impressive speeds in which they were carried. Soon the ship dropped out of warp and glided towards a large asteroid field.
"Now he's taking us into an actual asteroid field. He'll get us killed, I tell you," Crewman Leblanc said, irritated, "I'd hate to be at the Helm. First that Picard Manoeuvre, then the Pulsar and now this."
"Look at it this way Maureen, at least you people in Security will be busy when the Zardanians storm the ship," Crewman Morris said laughing.
"Laugh it up, Morris. You'll be busy enough fixing those repairs once we meet up with their cruisers."
"Ahhh...their ships are no match for the Spector."
"Yeah, one or two of them...try a whole fleet," Ensign Hansen said, "you guys heard our orders."
"One ships against the entire Zardanian Colonial Empire...it's suicide," Leblanc said glumly, "it's sure not what I signed on for."
"Well it shouldn't be the whole fleet," Morris said smiling, "just their Frontier border fleet."
"Always the optimist, huh Morris?"
"I try, Maureen. I try."
"I miss Captain Patterson," Hansen said.
"We all do, Han. But to be honest, I'm kind of glad Commander Dent is in charge of this mission," the others shot Morris a look and he quickly held up his hands, "Look, I'm not saying I'm glad what happed – far from it! But Captain Pat would have been in over his head with this Zardanian business, don't you think?"
"Captain Pat was a good man and a good Captain," Leblanc agreed, "and let's not forget there were two other Fed ships that got caught with their pants down. No one expected them Zardies to do what they did. Bastards."
"Except Commander Dent. He expected it."
"You mean Captain Dent."
Hansen rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah. How are things in Engineering anyway, Morris? Lambs didn't exactly take to the Commander from what I heard."
"Lambs was close to Captain Pat. His loss hit him really hard. Luckily we've been really busy down there so we haven't had time to really think about it. Say, you guys didn't answer my question about the Commander and this mission. Have you guys took the time to look over Dent's records yet?"
"Yes," Leblanc replied, "it's not wonder he was ready for their sneak attack. The Commander was seen every major engagement since he graduated – it's crazy. I heard Starfleet was thinking about giving him a year's time off but gave him this mission instead, thinking it would be a cake walk. They are seriously short of officers."
"The guy has more medals than most of this ship combined."
"He's a bad luck charm if you ask me. I heard that there aren't many ships that want him. He's some kind of pariah..."
"Are you speaking about our Acting Captain?" Venax asked from behind them. The three crewmen jumped out of their seats. None of them had heard the Lt. Commander approach.
"Yes, sir," Leblanc stammered.
"Is that any way to speak about a superior officer, crewman?"
"We're just trying to relieve some tension, sir."
The ship's intercom came to life just then, saving the crewmen from further reprimand, "Lt. Commander Venax report to the Bridge."
"On my way," she said, tapping her badge. Venax nodded to them then turned and left the room, her long hair way swinging back and forth as she gracefully walked through the doors.
"There goes a Vulcan unlike every other one on Vulcan," Leblanc said quietly as the doors closed behind the Tactical Officer. She made sure the officer was well out of earshot – a difficult thing to do when a Vulcan was concerned, "I just can't put my finger on why that is."
"It's the hair and the way she walks. She's not ramrod straight like others of her race but kind of stealthy, like a cat or something. And...is it me, or does it look like she's sometimes smirking?"
The others did not answer, lost in thought as they watched the ship manoeuvre through the asteroid field.