B'hava'el System
Tempasa Militia Base, Bajor
Captain Bhan Larina had led troops into the face of battle more times than even she could remember, earning respect from soldiers and other officers alike for being a commander who didn't believe in sending anybody anywhere she wouldn't go, and went along more often than not. She looked into the unknown with a brave face, knowing that everything would work out in the end. She had a reputation for being completely unfazable, always wearing an expression of confidence. It was that same expression she wore as she stood in the parade grounds at Tempasa Militia Base in her stiff dress uniform, her company similarly dressed behind her.
Like most Bajoran ceremonies, the change of command ceremony began with a prayer, a long recitation from one of the Vedeks as Bhan and the rest of Kejal Company stood at parade rest. When he finished, a solemn silence fell over the parade grounds until the distinguished figure of Colonel Jena Kareen approached, which was Bhan's cue. Executing a tight turn, she took a deep breath, using her command voice to call the company to attention. As one, the five platoons of infantry soldiers snapped to attention and Captain Bhan turned tightly again to face the front at attention, and they all stood unwavering as Colonel Jena performed his final inspection of the troops, an action rooted in the historic pride of never turning over a unit to a new commander in anything but perfect condition.
When he was exactly halfway through the inspection, Bhan saw movement out of the corner of her eye: the approach of the Starfleet captain, Harry Kim, from the opposite direction Colonel Jena arrived, symbolizing the difference between coming and going. Captain Kim was distinguished in his own right, tall enough with a strong build for a man in his sixties, black hair liberally streaked with gray, lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth and along his forehead. Bhan had read of him, knowing him to have a good reputation in Starfleet for being an efficient officer and commander. His career had an unconventional start: his first posting after graduating from the Academy had been as a senior officer aboard the U.S.S. Voyager, surviving the strange mission that that ended up being. After their return to the Alpha quadrant, he, like most of his crewmates, was promoted and decorated with just about every award Starfleet could make apply. For the next several years, he jumped from one prestigious posting to the next, serving as an operations officer, tactical officer, intelligence officer, and liaison officer of several ships and stations. His career became more stable after his marriage, eventually settling down as the commanding officer of Deep Space Four before his wife and son were killed in the first Nygleian attacks. After that, everything slowed to a near-standstill as he held brief positions with the sorts of titles Bhan recognized as belonging to those with once-promising careers who needed some time for their superior officers to decide what to do with them. Apparently, the top officers of Starfleet decided that Kim was ready to get back into the action, and named him the captain of the U.S.S. James T. Kirk for her maiden voyage.
Like Colonel Jena, Captain Kim inspected the soldiers, still standing stiffly at attention, not responding to anything going on around them, only the rustling of their grey dress uniforms in the slight breeze indicating that they were people, not statues. When both commanding officers had finished the inspection, they met up front and center of the parade field, facing Captain Bhan and Kejal Company from several meters in front of her. "Kejal Company, 7th Battalion, 3rd Infantry Division," Colonel Jena boomed out. "As the commanding officer over this unit, I hereby transfer immediate oversight to Captain Harry Kim of the Federation's Starfleet, contingent with your deployment aboard the U.S.S. James T. Kirk. Captain Bhan Larina, as commanding officer of this company, do you accept this charge?"
The petite blond raised her chin ever so slightly. "On behalf of Kejal Company, I accept this transfer," she replied, her eyes not moving from their unfixed position.
"Then, on this day, it shall be so," Colonel Jena declared. "May the prophets return you home safely when your mission is completed. Captain Kim." He indicated the Starfleet captain with a slight nod of his head.
Kim took a deep breath, hoping he was remembering the right words at this point. "On behalf of Starfleet and the U.S.S. James T. Kirk, I accept responsibility over Kejal Company, 7th Battalion, 3rd Infantry Division of the Bajoran Militia, and I hope our partnership will be a long and successful one." He began to breathe a little easier when he saw Colonel Jena give a brusque nod, figuring that meant that he had done well enough. A few more shouted commands to the company later, the hundreds of soldiers and officers turned and began marching off the field. Kim watched, impressed; like all Academy cadets, he had to learn Drill and Ceremony and the proper marching forms, which were reinforced in his years in the marching band, but no group the Academy had ever produced could march in such perfect formation.
After the ceremony was the reception, complete with the Bajoran wine that Kim remembered from the few Bajoran weddings he attended to be very weak. He was in the middle of a glass of the wine and conversation with Commander Ed Nash about tactical strategies when saw Captain Bhan approach, flanked by two taller men, one about her age and one appearing well into his forties. "Captain Kim," Bhan said, with a slight nod. "I am sorry to interrupt, but I thought it prudent to introduce myself in person. Captain Bhan Larina."
"I'm glad you did," he replied, taking her offered hand. He was struck by how young and small she was; he had, of course, seen her in the change of command ceremony and read her file, but in both, she had seemed larger than life, as if her position of command added centimeters and years to her slight form. Now standing a meter away, he saw that she probably the same age as Abbey and maybe only a few centimeters taller. Am I going to be spending this entire command surrounded by short blond girls with all of the confidence and none of the experience? There was a time, of course, that he would have been thrilled with the idea, but that was before he was a captain in his sixties with an entire starship in his command. "Captain Harry Kim. This is my first officer, Commander Ed Nash."
"It's nice to meet you," Nash added, offering his hand.
Bhan nodded. "And this is my executive officer, Lt. Ashani Waden, and my senior non-commissioned officer, First Sergeant Michalis Antos. Captain, I hate to pull you away from the reception, but may I have a word?" He nodded, gesturing for her to lead, and followed her into a garden path, noticing the absent way she touched one of the stone carvings as her lips moved soundlessly.
"I wanted to make sure we were in agreement about my role on your ship," she began, watching him out of the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction. "We have a one-year contract, but that's conditional. If I feel that my troops are being treated unfairly or sent out to the field simply because you feel that it's too dangerous for your own crew, I will not hesitate to break the contract and return my unit to Bajor. Colonel Jena agrees with this." He knew that she was well-connected in the Militia; it didn't take much research to discover that she was the daughter of the commanding general of the Militia Infantry; whether or not her position aboard the Kirk had anything to do with that relationship, he had yet to see. "I am not under your command. I will listen to you out of respect for your position and experience, but in the end, I will do what is right for my soldiers."
He chuckled slightly, earning him a quizzical glance. "I've been hearing that a lot lately," he said dryly, but didn't explain further. "I'm going to be honest with you, Captain, and I ask the same from you. I'm not sure how this arrangement is going to work, and continuing with the honesty, I'm not that comfortable with someone equivalent in rank to a lieutenant thinking that she has as much say in what happens as I do. With that being said, I will do my best to make this work, because that's what I think is best for my people."
She stopped walking and turned to face him, studying him briefly, her eyes narrowing. "I'm glad you realize that much," she said. "First real mission since the deaths of your wife and son after four years of Starfleet patting you on the back and telling you that it's all going to be okay. Are you up to doing your job and doing it well, or is this just a last-ditch effort to convince yourself and everyone around you that you're still a good captain?"
Now it was his turn to study her, his jaw set. "You do your job, Captain, and I'll do mine," he said tightly. "Outside of that, I don't see any reason for either of us to get into each other's business." He turned and left the gardens, fueled with an anger and determination he hadn't felt in awhile. Between his promise to Admiral Janeway—and himself—to stay with the Kirk, and the Nygleians, he wasn't sure which would go first: his sanity, or his life.