Suspended in Transit

Posted on Tue Mar 4, 2025 @ 2:25am by Lieutenant JG Kael "Vex" Tharien

782 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Time After Time
Location: Enroute to DS5

The shuttle hummed with a steady vibration, the kind that settled deep into the bones, a constant reminder of the vast, silent expanse beyond its reinforced hull. Vex sat near the viewport, arms folded, his dark eyes locked on the endless stretch of stars as the transport made its way toward Deep Space 5.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

His orders had been frustratingly vague—reroute to DS5, remain on standby, await further instructions. No reassignment, no explanation, just a sudden detour at the tail end of his last deployment aboard the USS Resolute. The message from Starfleet Command had been cold, impersonal, a simple notice confirming his suspension pending review. Review of what?

Vex exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders against the seat. He knew exactly what.

The Draylax campaign had been a success, at least on paper. The piracy situation had been neutralized, Federation shipping lanes secured, and the Resolute had left the sector without a single casualty among her crew. But Intelligence had questions—about his tactics, about his choices.

Vex knew how Starfleet liked things wrapped up: clean, diplomatic, by the book. But the Draylax sector didn’t play by the book, and the pirates he had been sent to eliminate weren’t just rogue opportunists—they had backing, resources, and a knack for slipping through bureaucratic cracks. A conventional approach wouldn’t have worked.

So he had done what was necessary. Cut deals with local cartels, flipped informants from under the Orion Syndicate, and, when the time came, set a trap that no one saw coming.

His mistake? Not clearing it through the right channels first.

Now, the Resolute was continuing on without him while Command decided whether his methods were worth the results. It wasn’t the first time he had been called reckless. It was, however, the first time he’d been benched for it.

The shuttle jolted slightly as the pilot announced their approach. Vex sat up straighter, dragging his gaze from the viewport to the other passengers. A handful of Starfleet personnel, a few civilians, traders who operated in the gray spaces of the galaxy—the kinds of people he’d likely be dealing with soon enough, whether he wanted to or not.

A layover, they called it. Temporary suspension until further notice.

Vex had been around long enough to know that “temporary” had a way of stretching longer than expected.

Outside the viewport, Deep Space 5 loomed ahead—massive, sprawling, a city in orbit. A Celestial-class starbase on the far edge of Federation space, its hull gleamed under the light of a distant star. 1,250 decks, home to 56,000 Starfleet personnel, 40,000 civilians, diplomats, and an ever-changing mix of transients, traders, and people looking to disappear.

The kind of place where nothing stayed quiet for long.

The shuttle docked with a subtle thunk, and the bay doors slid open with a hiss. Vex took a slow breath, stood, and slung his small duffel over his shoulder.

Whatever Command was deciding, he’d deal with it later. For now, he had a station to get acquainted with.

The Main Promenade stretched before him, a maze of interconnected decks filled with vendors, traders, and storefronts catering to nearly every species in the quadrant. The air smelled of a hundred different cuisines, the rich spice of Klingon Rokeg blood pie mingling with the sweet aroma of Bajoran Hasperat and something decidedly unfamiliar—probably from one of the independent traders who called this station home.

Vex took his time, his pace unhurried but observant, eyes sweeping over the chaos of commerce and conversation that pulsed through the heart of DS5. A Ferengi hawked rare artifacts outside a shop filled with mismatched treasures, his voice slick with salesmanship. Across the way, an Andorian woman adjusted the settings on a console at what looked to be a high-end weapons dealer—not exactly legal, but tolerated in places like this.

Further down, a small kiosk displayed rows of padds, each flashing advertisements for information for sale—navigation charts, trade secrets, classified data, if you had the latinum to spare.

Vex smirked. Same tricks, different station.

He didn’t stop, didn’t linger. The people here were sharp enough to clock a Starfleet officer, even one who carried himself differently. No, this was just reconnaissance—learning the terrain, feeling the pulse of the station, knowing where the shadows formed.

Deep Space 5 was a frontier outpost, a melting pot of ambition, secrecy, and survival. It was the kind of place where careers were made—or lost.

Right now, his own future was anyone’s guess.

And for the first time in a long while, Vex had no idea what came next.

 

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