The dark, gloomy night drew in as my family and I lay in the dimly lit tent. The sky was crystal clear, and so was the space around us. At least that’s what we thought… Terrifying sounds began to emanate from the distant treeline. We thought it would be wise to investigate, to make sure that we wouldn’t be in any danger, so together we emerged from our tents and headed in the direction of the noises.

Soon enough, the forest, with massive trees as tall as skyscrapers, grew closer. Deeper and deeper into the forest we delved, the terrifying screeching sound piercing the air every few seconds/minutes. Then silence. An eerie, dangerous silence. We looked at each other, gripping each other’s hands tighter as the ground beneath us began to shake. Stomp. Stomp. STOMP. We couldn’t believe what we were seeing. We’d never seen anything like it before: Its coarse, matted fur covered its body; emerald eyes glared at us; and its long, bushy tail swayed from side to side. My family and I (which consisted of only three of us) slowly approached the mysterious beast. Shaking, beads of sweat dripped from my brow. My parents were terrified, but I tried to be brave. I stepped forward, palm outstretched, speaking to it softly. And just when I thought I was making progress, the beast snapped out and snagged my leg with its dagger-like teeth. My parents grabbed me and fled back towards the tent, the creature screeching behind us, its footsteps slow and heavy. Together, we swiftly packed our belongings and tossed them in the car, then clambered inside. Dad turned the key, but nothing. He turned again. And a third time. And just when we saw the creature emerge from the treeline, the engine finally choked to life, the car hurtling forwards.

Hopefully, this would be the last time we would see this creature.

Hopefully.

“It’s rubbish isn’t it?”

Holding the data PADD firmly in her right hand, Akaria held up her left with its index finger in the air, pausing him for a few moments more as she finished reading. Of all her duties as a Starfleet officer, nothing seemed anywhere near as hard as helping her son with his homework for school. And while Marley was growing in resilience and perseverance, the youngster still needed momma when unsure about things.

When she was finally done, she gently placed the PADD down on the glass table in their family quarters and looked at her son. Marley held his breath until she eventually let out a big smile.

“I love it!” she grinned, reaching out and ruffling his hair. “It’s much better than the first draft you gave me,” she tried to reassure him. And it was true. The first draft had not been good. At all. Thankfully, the advice she’d given him had helped, and she was certain he’d pass his homework this time.

“What do you think is better exactly?” the youngster asked, looking at his mum hopefully.

Akaria picked up the data PADD again and stalled for time, pursing her lips as she re-read the small paragraph. Opening her mouth to talk, she was literally saved by the bell when the comm array rang out.

“Senior staff report to the observation lounge.”

Smiling sheepishly, she passed the PADD back to Marley and gave him a quick hug. “Sorry mate,” she apologised, then swiftly made it to her feet and evacuated her quarters faster than she’d ever responded to an emergency in her life. Death and destruction she could cope with, but giving feedback on her son’s homework was not her speciality. Dammit, she was a scientist, not a teacher!

When the doors to her quarters closed, the Risian let out a sigh of relief and a wry smile to accompany a shake of her head. She felt bad, but she was thankful for whatever situation had arisen, headed for the turbo lift at the end of the hall.

“What do you mean he’s gone?!”

Looking at the sea of shocked faces around the lounge table, Tharia stood at the head of the table and placed her hands on her hips.

“It happened a short while ago, but yes. Fourth Fleet Command has seen fit to transfer Captain Kauhn to a new assignment that requires his… expertise,” she elaborated, hoping to ease the confusion of those around the table. “It’s a new operational mandate; moving forward, Command will be transferring personnel across divisions, squadrons, task forces and the entire fleet itself regularly, as and when the need arises,” she added, then reached out and slid a few data PADDs around the table.

After a few minutes of catch-up reading, the fiery Italian from Ops tossed her PADD onto the table and cursed in her native language. “This is stupid,” she shook her head, “he built this crew, this staff. We’re his team, and now someone else is just going to swan in and take over?!” Safe to say, Ruas was fuming.

Sitting forward in the chair directly opposite Italia, Commander T’Kir responded to the woman’s concern before the XO could. “It is a logical decision,” the Vulcan told her, drawing a glare from the young blonde. Somewhat taken aback, the man sat back, arched a brown, then continued. “Starfleet is short on manpower following the Frontier Day disaster. It is only logical that they transfer personnel based on the needs of the many. If there is a posting somewhere that the Captain is infinitely more qualified for than someone else, it is only logical that he should go,” he explained. To his credit, a few faces seemed to agree with him, but some were still not convinced.

“I guess that’s why I’m here, and not Commander D’orr?” Matheus Ren surmised, the Betazoid looking across at the Andorian, who nodded.

“Commander D’orr has also been reassigned,” Tharia confirmed.

“It says here that this directive isn’t confined to command staff,” Peri spoke from the XO’s left, eventually looking up at the seniormost officer. “It says that they could do this to individuals, or potentially whole teams, indefinitely or for varying time frames. That means they could literally sweep in and send us all to different places at any moment,” the Bajoran looked far from happy at the information.

“Come on Peri,” Maddison sat forward on the other side of the table. “Chances of that happening are slim. We should be proud of the Captain. It means he’s been recognised for his work, and as a result, we have too.”

Before the Bajoran could launch into a counterargument, Tharia held her hands up, palms out, to pause her team. “At the end of the day, we all knew this could happen anyway. We accepted that Starfleet would send us where needed when we joined up, and they’ve never been shy in doing so. This new directive just solidifies the fact that we, as personnel, are more valuable than the ships we occupy. That’s a good thing,” the Andorian raised her eyebrows, trying to assure everyone that the new directive was a good thing and a necessity after the recent travesties.

“Besides,” Counsellor Nuñez shrugged, “I bet no one would be complaining if they decided you were important to a mission on a ship like the Stargazer… or the Enterprise for that matter.”

“They’re not in the Fourth,” Peri frowned at her younger colleague, “so it’s hardly a fair example.”

“None of this addresses the other particularly large elephant in the room,” Maddie chimed in again. “If Kauhn is out, are you stepping up Commander? And if not, who is coming in?”

“For now, Starfleet would like me to continue in my current role,” Tharia shrugged. Even though she felt ready to step up, Starfleet had made it clear that her ongoing rehabilitation made it difficult at the present time, but she’d been reassured that her chance would come sooner rather than later. Where that would take place was more up in the air than ever now.

“I’m told our new commander will be with us by the end of play today, she continued, “and that we should expect some… resistance…”

The air in the room grew stale as Tharia’s words lingered, officers exchanging glances whilst considering the ramifications of the Andorian’s warning.

An awkward silence had filled every pocket of air and space between sh’Elas, Peri and their new commander as they had conducted their tour of the ship. In the thirty minutes he’d been aboard he’d insulted T’Kir’s grey hair, scolded an Ensign on deck six for running and questioned both women on why they thought Kauhn had been reassigned and he’d been drafted in. Needless to say, virtually everything they had been led to believe was wrong, in his eyes anyway. The one consistent truth was that they had encountered the resistance Task Force Command had alluded to, on a grand scale. Captain James Ryan did not want to be there and saw the posting as nothing more than an inconvenience.

“He said that?!” Maddie slammed her drink on the table at the back of the ship’s lounge, as far from other ears as the group could get.

“Mmhmm,” Peri nodded. “He openly admitted that Hypatia was nothing more than a necessary evil on his way to his next assignment,” she told the small gathering.

“His next, more meaningful assignment,” Akaria scoffed, downing what was left of her small beverage. She’d been there, present in sickbay when Tharia had brought the Captain in for introductions and he’d responded by openly criticising the need for dedicated science ships in the current galactic chaos. And then he’d admitted to not wanting to be there at all. A sentiment no doubt shared by everyone who had encountered him so far. No one wanted him there.

“Bloody cheek!” Matheus frowned, receiving a sympathetic tap on the knee from his partner in the process. “Do we even know where he came from?”

“His last posting was the Aeneid,” Peri told the group, “but he moved when she put into dock for significant repairs after the Underspace crisis. Apparently he’d still rather be here than sitting on his ass with his crew.”

“Let’s remember the new directive,” Maddie sat forward and whispered, drawing the other three around the table to lean in also. “If he’s been moved here, maybe that means we’ve got something coming our way? Something less… science-y?” She suggested appealing to their sense of curiosity regarding their situation.

“I don’t care about any of that,” Akaria shook her head a pursed her lips. “Just make sure you look after yourselves. We don’t know him, and we can’t trust him,” the unofficial mother of the crew, the Risian Medical Officer sat back and folded her arms.

“He’s our Captain now. We have to trust him,” Peri countered, drawing side glances from her friends, “or we end up like Lakota and the XO betrays him, then we’re all fucked…”