Clara stood at the window of her office that overlooked the docking bay of Starbase 72, hands folded behind her back. She had just returned from the briefing with Starfleet Command over the growing situation in the former DMZ. She was one of a dwindling number of Starfleet officers who remembered the celebration when the DMZ was established in 2370. It was supposed to be the grand solution to a border crisis that had gone on for nearly 20 years; the end of a conflict that began before she even set foot at Starfleet Academy.

It lasted 3 years before the Dominion swept in and seized control. Truthfully, it was never a great answer. From the very start, the DMZ was riddled with fighting on a smaller scale. The governments could officially wash their hands of it, call it a win, and move on.  The Federation had done little beyond condemn the Maquis and push them further down the rabbit hole of terrorism. She remembered when she was a science officer on the Washington when it was deployed to the DMZ border after reports of Maquis activity. It didn’t take long before the real reason they were there was revealed: Starfleet Command wanted to know what, if anything, the Cardassians were up to and if they snagged a few Maquis then so be it. 

Then the war happened and the Treaty of Bajor dumped the entire DMZ back to Federation control. Then Mars happened. Then the Romulan supernova. Then Frontier Day. Decades of tragedy, decades of the Federation pulling inward and ignoring the growing crisis around them. Now they found themselves back in the 2370s with the former DMZ a hotbed of activity and over 5,000 men, women, and children dead. Not to mention the Klingon Empire being ready to throw itself off the cliff of war. 

Over and over and over the crises played out. Ever since the Dominion War, it seemed like very little changed; Starfleet and the Federation were almost ignorant of the consequences of their actions. So much of her was ready to be done with all of it. She had given nearly half a century of service to Starfleet. She had been so close to walking away until they dangled that damn ‘carrot’ in front of her. 

A Galaxy Class starship. Not just any Galaxy Class but the USS Galaxy herself.  Typically she’d have little to no chance of being assigned to a Galaxy Class, even with her 40+ years of service and exploration background, but the sheer number of senior officers that had been killed or chose to retire pushed her into contention. It also helped that Starfleet Command had caught wind of her intention to resign thanks to some loose lips among her friends and opted to make a ‘final’ offer to keep her in the service.

A soft chime interrupted her thoughts. “Enter.” She turned to face the door, the tall figure of Commander Geden Demar walking through. Over the last few months, he’d allowed his brown hair to grow longer and kept a slight 5 o’clock shadow along his jawline. It suited him quite well, not that she’d ever tell him that considering she was over 20 years his senior. She did make a mental note to try and be around when Conklin saw Demar’s new look; if money had still existed, she’d make a bet that Conklin would trip over his words at least three times. He’d mentioned more than a few times that long hair and scruff was his weakness.

“Geden.” Clara spoke warmly. “Please, have a seat.” She pulled out the chair behind her desk, sitting and folding her hands across the glass top. “It’s been weeks since we spoke last, how are you?”

Geden pulled his chair out and sat down, awkwardly trying to place his arms somewhere that looked casual. “I am well, thank you.” He’d been dreading this moment for weeks; he knew what was coming—yet another reassignment. He’d had his last chance on the Amundsen and that had gone belly up and now he’d get to go to some backwater Class D planet and study rocks. He’d be nothing more than a small footnote in the history of the Demar symbiont because he’d fucked up one too many times. 

Clara gave him a soft smile; the tension on his face was more than evident. She wasn’t sure what the source was, but it wasn’t like this was anything new for her interactions with the man. “I’m happy to hear that Commander. It’s been a rough period for us and the fleet.”

The Trill nodded. “Aye ma’am, it has.”

Clara leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “I take it word has reached you that the Amundsen is going to be tied up in drydock long enough to warrant reassignments?”

Geden gave the woman a half nod. “Not officially, no, but it wasn’t hard to come to that conclusion.”

“I see.” She pulled a PADD out of the desk drawer, softly sitting it in front of him. “Those would be your new orders, Commander. After everything we dealt with on Beol II, I felt it only right I deliver the news to the senior staff personally.”

Geden picked up the PADD with a sharp inhale, pressing his thumb to the cold screen to authenticate. He watched as the Starfleet logo popped up on the screen with its usual flourish before it began to fade away and text filled the screen. Nearly all of it was the superfluous pomp that Starfleet but after a few seconds he got to the official orders. His head cocked the side a little, confusion crossing his face before he looked back up at Myers, a wide smile on her face. “Ma’am?”

“It’s all there. By order of Starfleet Command, you are to assume the executive officer’s position aboard the USS Galaxy tomorrow morning at 0800.” She pulled out a stack of PADDs. “I have orders for the entire senior staff of the Amundsen, plus orders for a few new faces.”

The confusion did not leave the Trill’s face. “I’m afraid I still don’t understand. I nearly caused the T’Kon virus on Beol II to assume control of the backup computer core, stranding us there even longer. I barely was able to serve as a science officer, much less an executive officer. I snapped at Commander Conklin; I was far from my best. My understanding was that any amount of poor performance would see me removed from my position.”

Clara arched an eyebrow, a look of confusion now forming on her face as well. “We were in a difficult position and none of us had served with each other before, minus Commander Conklin and myself. I don’t demand nor expect perfection Mr. Demar. I expect you to act like a Starfleet officer, and you did so, in spades. It didn’t go unnoticed when you injected a little confidence in Ensign Erith before the Jem’Hadar attack. You oversaw the successful evacuation of the Amundsen. As for you and Commander Conklin, he mentioned nothing to me except that your help was key.” That was a small lie, Alex had gone on for a few minutes too long about how prickly Demar had been during their interactions; though prickly was not the word Alex had used. “He did mention you owe him a drink, but that’s not an order I can give you.”

Geden let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in. “Thank you, ma’am. I…” he paused, trying to find the words. “I will do my best to not squander the trust you have placed in me.”

Clara nodded. “That’s all I ask, Commander. Now, let’s get down to business.”

Geden watched as she pulled another PADD out of the desk drawer that seemed to hold an endless supply of them. “Do we already have our first assignment?”

“In a way.” She handed him the PADD. “We’ve been ordered to conduct a shakedown cruise near the former DMZ.”

“The DMZ?” Confusion was evident in his voice. “That’s an odd location for a shakedown cruise.”

“It’s is but this is less a shakedown cruise a more a show the flag and gather intel mission. Officially, we will not be on patrol but simply testing systems in open space that happens to be close to the Cardassian border. Starfleet Command is worried that a Galaxy Class ship being officially deployed so close to the border will be considered an escalation.” It was semantics. She knew it, Demar knew it, the Cardassians knew it, and so did the True Way and New Maquis. It was another maneuver in the delicate dance that was diplomacy along the border right now.

Geden turned his head to the side, eyes widening. “If that’s what Starfleet wants to call it then I’ll play along.”

“With the destruction of C-91 and the death of so many, Starfleet is damn near desperate to contain the situation. We know there is little appetite for a direct war in the Union itself so we are confident they are funding the True Way behind the scenes and they accuse the same of us when it comes to the Maquis.” Clara shook her head. “It’s a damn mess that’s been deposited right on our doorstep.”

Geden shifted in his seat. “Do you think the Union is funding the True Way behind the scenes? That’s bold, even for them.”

Clara shrugged. “It’s not out of the realm of possibility but neither side can afford a war. Everyone knows it. We’re weakened from Frontier Day and the Union is likely loath to unite the races of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants against them again, especially since the Klingons are in chaos and eager for a little conquest. I’m not privy to details but it sounds like the political situation in the Union is unstable and complicated, like always it seems, but we’re the bad guys again.”

Geden shook his head. In the wake of the Mars attack, they all but abandoned the worlds at the edges of the Federation. It wasn’t shocking that the citizens of the former DMZ had little love for the status quo right now, not to mention how the Federation had withdrawn aid to Cardassia in 2385 had won them few friends in the Union. “You won’t hear me say it in the halls of Starfleet Command, but I don’t blame any of them for how they feel. We left them behind.”

“You are not wrong, Commander.” She shared the sentiment and was rather relieved to hear he left the same way. She’d heard far too much saber rattling and disparaging remarks from those in charge. Thankfully they were fewer in numbers these days. “So, for right now, our job is to try had help keep this powderkeg from blowing. Hopefully, things will settle down and we can get around to our true purpose, deep space exploration.”

Geden allowed himself a small smile. “I can’t say I’d argue against another round of 5-year missions.”

Clara stood, gathering up the PADDs on her desk. “Then let’s get to work, Commander.”