The Big Chair

Posted on Tue Oct 17, 2017 @ 1:48am by Captain Maritza Soran
Edited on on Wed Sep 4, 2019 @ 11:04pm

592 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Rumours
Location: Soran's quarters
Timeline: MD 08 0200

::ON::

The chirping of the computer was incessant, and didn't stop until she was properly awake.

Soran looked over to the clock. It was a really ancient actual clockwork one, a genuine antique, about five hundred years old. It was two AM, station time. Anything routine should have been routed to OPS.

Feeling a bit bleary, but not having any pick me ups on hand, she slouched over to her desk, and sat down, pausing to brush her unbraided hair, now in a bush of waves from where she had slept, and tapped the answer button.

A red uniformed Efrosian, looking grave, sat on the other end of the sub-space link. "Admiral Flidian," Maritza said, surprised at seeing the Rear Admiral. Why would he be calling her? Surely he'd be calling Aldrex? "What can I do for you sir?"

"Take command of Deep Space Five," he said briskly.

Maritza was stunned, Take Command? "What about Captain t'vaurek?"

"Isha t'Vaurek has been removed from her post. The Romulans have ended the joint command program, as such we will no longer keep her in post. She is free to remain on the station, or depart, but her security clearences have been revoked and she is to take no further part in command decisions. For all intents and purposes she is merely a civilian. The Romulan Government have declined to reinstate her as Ambassador."

Maritza sat back in her chair, trying to take it all in. "What about Commander Aldrex?" He was next in the chain of command.

Flidian looked annoyed. "Unexpected circumstances have called him back to Trill. He has resigned his commission. The timing could not be worse."

Maritza raised an eyebrow. What could have happened that was so bad he would have gone back to their home-world? "Is he all right?" she asked.

Flidian nodded. "Its a personal matter. I understand that his wife will be following shortly. You will need to appoint a new medical officer as well as an XO."

Maritza's heart sank. DS5 had been short senior officers for some time. Losing another one, especially something as vital as the person who ran the station's hospital, was a heavy blow. "Yes, sir."

"Good." he said curtly. The Efrosian leaned forward slightly. "I'm sending you more briefing documents. The position of DS5 makes it a significant location that Starfleet command feels is underutilised. We have plans for that station of yours. Get you senior team sorted, Commander. We can't wait for long."

"Yes sir," Maritza said, trying to keep her voice firm. "Consider it done."

"Carry on Commander," Flidian replied, and cut the screen.

Soran sat back in her chair. This was unexpected. She had hoped for a command, something to show the trill back home you didn't need to join to succeed. But she'd been handed a poison chalice. A station that was on the bubbling edge of riot, rebellion, and international crises, with a dearth of experienced officers. If she could fill those posts, she might make a go of it. If she get Liam Cunningham to keep the Cardassians in line, If Caleb Ryan could survive his current incarceration and put down whatever Raddon and Gabriel were plotting. If she could make a good showing of whatever it was Starfleet Command had planned...

Well. Shit did not get done thinking of ifs and maybe's. You had to roll up your sleeves. She looked up at her clock. 0210 hrs. Rolling up sleeves would have to wait till tomorrow.

::OFF::

Commander Maritza Soran
CO, DS5

 

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