One order. Three hundred dead.

And now Valdes stood outside her door, waiting to explain herself.

Displeased wouldn’t have covered half of it – Cressida Brennan was furious, and the fact that she’d been sitting with that feeling for several weeks had done absolutely nothing to alleviate it. And everything was Callen Varro’s fault.

Not that the man had actively done anything to draw her ire – at least not recently. She still hadn’t forgiven him for leaving DS-17 for some desk job – but sometimes it just felt good to pass the blame up the chain.

She took a deep breath to center herself. The breathing worked. The centering didn’t.

Which meant she was still scowling when the door to her office slid open and Captain Asgren Valdes stepped inside.

Valdes, Brennan thought, looked like she wanted to be here about as much as she wanted her to be. Oh, right. That was something she could blame Varro for.

“Captain,” Valdes greeted her – polite yet distant. Chances were she knew this wouldn’t be a happy conversation. For either of them.

“Captain Valdes,” Brennan replied, with about as much warmth as an ice cube. “Please, take a seat.”

It wasn’t a request – it would’ve taken real creativity to read it as anything but an order, and lucky for her, Valdes didn’t appear to be particularly creative. She dropped into the chair, and for a moment it seemed like she wanted to speak – then thought better of it.

“I believe you know why you’re here.”, Brennan said, forcing her voice into an even, almost neutral tone, but managing only the former.

Valdes gave a slow nod. “Yes.”

Pretty sure you don’t, Brennan thought, but opted to get straight to the point. The sooner this was over, the better.

“Then perhaps you want to tell me, in person, how someone with your experience decided that the only reasonable approach to a crisis was firing on a passenger liner.”

Valdes inhaled sharply – a little bit like she had only been waiting for the cue to deliver her rehearsed lines.
“We had to react quickly. The Celeste, it would have…  Risa. It would have impacted in one of the most densely populated cities on Risa, and-….”

“I read the report. Extensively.”

More times than she cared to admit. As if that would make her numb to it.

“I am more interested in what the report doesn’t say.”

“The report is thorough.” Valdes reassured “I had to make a decision, and I did it with the information I had at the time, and I stand by it.”

“Yet, even your crew doesn’t seem to be sold on that.”, Brennan shrugged. “And it’s not the first time your leadership style has been in question.”

Valdes straightened, and raised her chin defiantly. “I am aware. I’m working on being as transparent as possible and am regaining that trust.”,

“I see.” Brennan said. That certainly was promising. But it wasn’t exactly enough. “One of the most densely populated cities on Risa.” A pause “Atheta. The city your daughter was visiting at the time.”

“It wasn’t about Linna.” Valdes said, and for a moment, Brennan was sure she heard her voice crack.

“You did not explore alternatives. Risian orbital control insists that they could have taken care of it. ” Brennan reminded her. Not a moment of doubt – none that was recorded, or that the bridge crew could attest to, anyway,

“I…” Valdes tried. “There was no time.”

“And that Lieutenant Commander Zantett refused to follow your orders didn’t give you any pause?”

Brennan hadn’t expected an answer, and was unsurprised when none came. Valdes was simply staring at her, eyes wide. And now that she wasn’t pushing back, Brennan’s anger receded. Not by much – but enough that she no longer considered a summary execution a reasonable disciplinary measure.

“What’s done is done.” she said  – retrospectively a horrible way to phrase it. But if nothing else, she was done with this conversation. “With the inquiry completed, the general consensus is that you acted poorly in a stressful situation. Unfortunately, the Blackout and Vaadwaur invasion have caused several of those. And if we were to dismiss every Starfleet Officer who has made a questionable decision during that time-….”

She let the sentence hang. Not for dramatic effect, but because she couldn’t bring herself to finish it. It sounded too lenient.

Brennan didn’t lose sleep easily, but the sheer number of the lives lost by Valdes’ hands had singed itself into her mind. It kept her awake at nights, and whenever she didn’t keep herself busy enough over the day.

The galaxy was dangerous. She knew that. She mourned the officers killed in the line of duty.
But the idea that one of her captains was responsible for so much death?
It terrified her. Valdes terrified her.
And Brennan much preferred to be the most terrifying thing in the room.

“That does not mean I wouldn’t like to dismiss you. Unfortunately, my hands are tied.”, she said coolly.

“I… will do better.” Valdes promised. She straightened. Barely.

“You will have ample opportunity to do so – in a setting where you are unlikely to do any damage.”

“You have new orders for us?” Valdes asked. There was an almost hopeful tinge to her voice. Brennan couldn’t fault her for that – she’d react the same way. The Sirona was a prestigious posting – the idea of leaving it hurt.

Which was exactly why she was reassigning Valdes.

Well, it was one of the reasons.

“For you.” she said, letting those words sink in before she continued.  “You will be leaving the Sirona in more capable hands.”

“But-…”

Brenna let Valdes gather her thoughts, and try to form a whole sentence.

“But…” she tried again. “I’ve-… The Sirona is…”

Evidently the ‘sentence’-thing didn’t work.

“You’ve worked hard for that posting.” Brennan acknowledged. She understood. But it didn’t change anything. “And you can again. The people on that passenger liner can’t work towards anything ever again.”

“I understand. Where are you assigning me?” she asked eventually.

“You will be serving aboard the USS Olympic.”

Which added insult to … well, insult.

Among the crew of ships like the Sirona, the Olympic-class was a bit of a joke. A relic – necessary and respected, sure – but visually offensive, and hopelessly outpaced by the sleek Vesta-class.

The USS Olympic boasted another interesting claim to fame – a disgraced medical journal. The perfect fit for a disgraced Captain.

“But Captain, I-… I’ve never commanded a medical vessel before, and-…”

“Oh, you won’t be commanding it. You will be serving as First Officer to a captain who is willing to mentor you.”

The silence that followed was deafening. In a very pleasing way.
Brennan allowed Valdes to sit with it, and let her form whatever reply she could manage.

“Thank you.”

Brennan had expected some emotional outburst. She would have been fine with crying, pleading, or being yelled at. Anything that made Valdes seem the slightest bit human.

But there she sat. Straight face. Not a flicker of emotion.

The sooner the woman was out of her office, the better.

“Yes.” Brennan said and waved her hand weakly.
“But make no mistake – one more incident, of any kind, and I will personally make sure that you’re never setting foot on a Starfleet vessel again.”

“Understood.”

“Good.” Brennan nodded – not exactly pleased with the outcome of this conversation, but pleased to be done with it.

“Dismissed.”

She watched Valdes closely as the woman rose from her chair and left. And once the doors closed behind her, Brennan finally took that breath.

Truth be told, the crew of the Olympic could use someone as experienced as Valdes – just as much as Valdes could certainly use a setting in which she’d be forced to actually connect to her crew.

And Saffiya Nassar, the new Commanding Officer of the USS Olympic, was all about connecting. Which was exactly why Brennan stayed as far away from her as possible.

It was the best solution for everyone involved.
Which, of course, meant it made no one particularly happy.

Brennan couldn’t dismiss her.
Technically.

Asgren Valdes had given the order with the intel she had – if you could call it that – and with barely sixty seconds to react. That wasn’t just what she told herself. That’s what the inquiry had concluded.

But inquiries didn’t make you wait in the corridor, next to an armed security guard. Inquiries didn’t go out of their way to make you look like a criminal until you started to feel like one, too.
And that was something Valdes was trying very hard not to do.

“Captain Brennan is ready to see you now.”, her ‘guard’ said, not explaining how he knew. Valdes didn’t ask. Instead, she focussed on keeping her knees from buckling. Cowards. She tightened her muscles, forcing herself to move towards the door.

One step. Another one.

The doors opened at her approach, and – seated behind her desk  – Brennan looked up. And scowled.

It threw Valdes off. Usually, she was the one doing the scowling.

She attempted a smile. Polite, not weak. “Captain.”

“Captain Valdes,” Brennan spat her name like an insult. “Please, take a seat.”

Valdes gave a nod and made it to the chair, just in time to collapse with some semblance of dignity. She desperately thought of something to say. Lead the conversation, she told herself. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Like a fish on land.

This was going great.

“I believe you know why you’re here.”, Brennan said evenly.

Valdes forced herself to nod. “Yes.”

Not exactly true. She had explained it all before, and the inquiry was done – but from the looks of it, Brennan clearly wasn’t.

“Then perhaps you want to tell me, in person, how someone with your experience decided that the only reasonable approach to a crisis was firing on a passenger liner.”

Valdes inhaled sharply, speaking before her mind had the chance to remember how sentences worked. “We had to react quickly. The Celeste, it would have…  Risa. It would have impacted in one of the most densely populated cities on Risa, and-….”

“I read the report.” Brenna cut her off.  “I am more interested in what the report doesn’t say.”

“The report is thorough.” Valdes reassured, her voice pitching. “I had to make a decision, and I did it with the information I had at the time, and I stand by it.”

Which didn’t mean she hadn’t questioned it every day since.

“Yet, even your crew doesn’t seem to be sold on that.”, Brennan interjected dismissively. “And it’s not the first time your leadership style has been in question.”

Valdes straightened, and pressed her lips into a thin line. Think before you respond, she told herself.

That she wasn’t popular among her crew wasn’t news. That they didn’t trust her… was.

“I am aware. I’m working on being as transparent as possible and am regaining that trust.”, she said. Neither of that was entirely true. She had hidden in her office and hoped to outlast their doubts, instead.

“I see.” Brennan said, evidently seeing right through the lie, and opting to circle back to the matter at hand.  “One of the most densely populated cities on Risa.” A pause “Atheta. The city your daughter was visiting at the time.”

That caught Valdes off guard. Her eyes widened a fraction, and her hands curled into fists. It was what everyone – her own crew included – assumed; a mother worried about her daughter, willing to sacrifice three hundred lives to save one.

Valdes had thought of the people in Atheta first.

Then the crew that was enjoying shore leave there.

And then, only then, had she remembered that Linna was there too.

But how did you explain your own child being an afterthought without looking like a horrible person? Or, in her case, like more of a horrible person.

“It wasn’t about Linna.” she said quietly.

“You did not explore alternatives. Risian orbital control insists that they could have taken care of it. ”, Brennan pressed on.

“I…”

She what? Tried to think quickly, and was running out of time? Brennan had to know that. She had to understand that alternatives were extremely limited.

“There was no time.”

“And that Lieutenant Commander Zantett refused to follow your orders didn’t give you any pause?”

Valdes wanted nothing more than to squeeze her eyes shut. But she didn’t even manage blinking.

Her inner voice was telling her to defend her decision like she had done during the inquiry. Her outer voice didn’t say anything.

“What’s done is done.” Brennan finally said. “With the inquiry completed, the general consensus is that you acted poorly in a stressful situation. Unfortunately, the Blackout and Vaadwaur invasion have caused several of those. And if we were to dismiss every Starfleet Officer who has made a questionable decision during that time-….”

She let the sentence hang.

“That does not mean I wouldn’t like to dismiss you. Unfortunately, my hands are tied.”, she said coolly.

Maybe Varro kept her on a leash. Which was a terrifying thought, considering there was a possibility that one day, she’d come off it.

“I… will do better.” Valdes promised. She straightened. Barely.

“You will have ample opportunity to do so – in a setting where you are unlikely to do any damage.”

“You have new orders for us?” Valdes asked. The relief hit fast. Foolishly so. Maybe this was salvageable, and she’d walk out of here with something else than shame.

“For you.” Brennan said. The woman’s voice registered like a seismic shock down Valdes’ spine, and she braced herself for what she knew would come next.

“You will be leaving the Sirona in more capable hands.”

“But-…”

Valdes swallowed the rest of the sentence, and focussed her energy on keeping remaining calm. Remaining professional.

But all she wanted to do was beg Brennan to reconsider.

Years. She had spent years working towards a prestigious command such as the Sirona. And now one small decision would take all that away?

“But…” she tried again. “I’ve-… The Sirona is…”

“You’ve worked hard for that posting.” Brennan dismissed her. “And you can again. The people on that passenger liner can’t work towards anything ever again.”

This time, Valdes managed to squeeze her eyes shut. There had been nothing small about that decision. And she knew that. She deserved the reassignment.

But understanding why Brennan did it, didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

“I understand. Where are you assigning me?” she managed eventually.

“You will be serving aboard the USS Olympic.”

Valdes’ eyes snapped open. She had expected a patrol vessel or a supply ship, but a medical ship?

“But Captain, I-… I’ve never commanded a medical vessel before, and-…”

“Oh, you won’t be commanding it.” Brennan’s voice stayed perfectly flat. “You will be serving as First Officer to a captain who is willing to mentor you.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

First Officer. Not even a symbolic command on a meaningless vessel to save face. She maintained her rank, but lost her command privileges.

This wasn’t exile. This was humiliation.

It confirmed the suspicion everyone already had – that she made the wrong call.

“T- thank you.” she said eventually, forcing firmness into her voice. No one would see her crumble. Especially not Brennan,

“Yes.” Brennan said and waved her hand like she was swatting away a fly. “But make no mistake – one more incident, of any kind, and I will personally make sure that you’re never setting foot on a Starfleet vessel again.”

“Understood.”

One word. Just enough to keep the floor from vanishing.

“Good.” Brennan nodded. “Dismissed.”

Valdes wasn’t sure how she had made it out of Brennan’s office, but somehow, she had. Perhaps not without bumping anyone, but without bursting any display of emotion for the rest of the station to gossip about.

It was unfair.

No, not quite. It wasn’t unfair. It was what she deserved.

And it isn’t the end, her inner voice reminded her. Valdes told it to shut up.

She would have to tell Linna that they were moving ships again. Package it as another fresh start. Linna would refuse to come.
Valdes didn’t know if she still had the energy to argue.