“Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For the world’s more full of weeping

than you can understand.”

W.B. Yeats, The Stolen Child (1886)

~ One advantage of retiring from a commanding position, ~ Thought Captain Trevenan Williams, with quiet satisfaction, as hands that were once practiced at the controls of a shuttlecraft found their old memories once more, ~ is that you get you choose your own ride.~

The swift arrowhead form of the fleeting Type 12 Shuttlecraft felt alive beneath his fingers as the aging Starfleet officer coaxed the craft over the lee of an approaching Spacedock cradle noting that, within the clutch of its embracing service – arms, lay the grey-hound like lithe form of the USS Valley Forge, as the Excelsior II Heavy Cruiser underwent a scheduled maintenance refit.

Williams frowned as he guided the small craft under the superstructure, noting the brightly – lit, arching accessways leading to the interior of the ship and the proliferation of tiny yellow Worker-bee’s that swarmed frenetically across and all around the ship’s hull.

One of his last official actions as the outgoing Task Force Commander of TF72 had been to preside over the removal of Captain Samantha Hyland from the Captain’s – chair of the Valley Forge, an action not taken lightly but a stern measure Trevenan had not taken with some regret.

Of his many failures as a leader, Williams considered Hyland’s fall from grace his paramount – nadir.

Initially a brilliant young Red Squad cadet and promising young officer, Sam Hyland had somehow seemed to inadvertently court controversy wherever she shipped and Trevenan reflected if he was partly to blame for her downfall by promoting her to command positions too early in her career?

Hubris aside, he was the first to admit that he had a tendency to cheer for the underdog and retained a certain guarded admiration for the prodigious young Captain’s flair and tenacity for persevering despite impossible odds.

But the events that led to the USS Valley Forge pursuing a long – lost ‘Ghost – Ship” had somehow led to Starfleet Command slapping a “Security of the Federation” information block on her subsequent mission that effectively sealed whatever events transpired behind a security – clearance that was so high that even Trevenan, as her TFCO, was not privy to what had transpired out there in the former DMZ.

Troubled by that memory Captain Williams was forced to admit that whatever it was that Samantha Hyland had endured, she returned a changed woman.

It was begun with a perplexing number of transfer requests, lodged both by Hyland herself and (later) some of the actual crewmembers in question. Nothing remarkable about that, at least initially, crew turnover & retention was a common problem for an organization as diverse and with the range of career opportunities as varied as Starfleet.

Not everyone was the right fit for a ship or its mission and there was no shame in moving on or being moved on, when you had to consider the overall wellbeing of a crew that would be asked to endure close physical and social proximity sometimes for years on end, whilst being asked to brave the unknown.

Soon though, it became unmistakable that those crewmembers were almost all exclusively non – Terran and ‘alien’ in origin and that it seemed worryingly like Captain Hyland was re-ordering her decks to some oblique and concerning internal policy of racial – profiling.

Whilst Williams personally castigated Hyland for this infraction of the Starfleet Code, it was the not the actual particulars of that meeting that stuck so uncomfortably in his mind (half the job of command was chewing – out those below you whilst those above masticated similarly), rather the markable change in Sam’s demeanor and attitude. Ostensibly she carried herself as ever, self-assured and not just a little overconfident – but Trevenan sensed something more worrisome during their meeting that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Beneath her poised Nordic – exterior, Trevenan Williams had subconsciously formed the impression that, although he was unquestionably the one in command in this instance, that he was being evaluated by something with a disquieting cold and calculating regard that felt at odds with the young officer he had once known.

This provocative behavior continued to manifest itself through a number of questionable command decisions and actions that could be described as callous at best and arguably amoral at worst and in the end Williams had been forced to recommend her removal from command and the Fourth Fleet Command had acquiesced – exiling Captain Samantha Hyland to a posting at Joint Base Dathon in Tamarian space, where it was deemed she would do less damage.

Privately Williams had his doubts as to the prudence of this course of action. Whenever Hyland found herself at the heart of controversy, the typical reaction would be to usher her off to some supposed backwater where, paradoxically – she would end up in even deeper trouble. Still, let the Tamarian’s ponder the complexity of that metaphor!

Trevenan sighed. It was hard to see such promise wither in its prime, just as it was hard for him to sometimes admit he was not omnipotent after all.

His reverie was broken, however, as the navigational sensors told him that he had cleared the spacedock cradle but warbled a proximity alert and laid out an alternate flightpath to his final destination that would steer him clear of another vessel that was preparing to depart Starbase 72 – a vessel with lines so achingly familiar to the veteran Starfleet Captain, that for just a moment Trevenan was forced to wonder if he had chosen the right ship after all?

With strong graceful lines that bespoke not just his own years in command of a similar vessel but evoked a sense of nostalgia that was hard even for a stubborn old – salt like him to deny, Trevenan hove to as the new flagship of Task Force 72 slid majestically by, two points off his starboard bow with her navigation lights winking gently in the endless night.

The Obena – class Emissary, USS Anthemius truly was a beautiful ship.

Before he had stepped into the command role with TF72, Trevena’s last command had been aboard the USS Ajax and he was assured that, whoever was chosen to command this new figurehead of peace and diplomacy (the appointment of her senior staff was a task left for younger, brighter minds that would succeed him), whoever had their hand at the tiller could ask for no finer vessel.

With a warm smile, Trevenan watched as the beautiful curve of that refined hull passed over him – her stately passage briefly blotting out the light from Minos Korva’s suns and plunging the cockpit into momentarily darkness – leaving him alone with his bustle of memories as the departing ship left to forge new memories of her own.

Thoughts of past failures, joined with thoughts of past success and when Traffic Control signalled that his shuttle was cleared to resume its steady passage through the busy outer – yards, Trevenan secretly found himself glad and determined to fix his thoughts firmly on the future as his new command cleaved into view.

The USS Vega.

Seven hundred meters from bow to stern and some 243 meters across the beam, the Lamarr – class Long – Range Explorer was a handsome beast, if not a little incongruous in that the purpose she had been designed for had evolved beyond her usefulness, leaving her behind as a capable but curious oddity amongst the ranks of Starfleet.

Uncomfortably more than a little like himself, Williams supposed with a certain wry amusement.

Still, when casting around for something to do with the remainder of an admittedly – storied career whose best years were arguable behind it, Williams had been mildly surprised when Commodore Jalian herself had offered command of this interesting footnote to the development of the Sovereign – class and a rare 5 – year mission of exploration and diplomacy.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think that you were trying to get rid of me.” Trevenan remembered replying teasingly to the Saurian Commander of Starbase 72, over drinks at the lively cocktail party that the Commodore had thrown for his leaving – do.

Jalian’s nictating inner eyelids blinked across her dark – eyes and, being no stranger to ship command herself before she had assumed command of the Starbase, she smiled coyly as she sipped her Saurian Brandy Alexander and feinted with the elegant riposte.

“Well, it will probably be nice to walk the promenade decks without half the junior officers assigned to Task Force duties grumbling incessantly about your impossibly – curmudgeonly behavior, but honestly Trevenan – a mission of this caliber and import does not come around every day and, given the obvious sensitivities of returning to resume activities beyond the Bajoran Wormhole – do you honestly think that Starfleet Command is going to entrust this to some dick – swinging callow wannabee with a ‘shoot first, negotiate later’ philosophy?

Trevenan recalled fixing Jalian with a quizzical – stare.

“I’m not entirely sure if that’s intended as a compliment or not?”

Jalian laughed and helped herself to an interesting morsal that had been orbiting around them on a platter born by a frighteningly efficient Special Services crewman, spearing a piece of whatever it was with a deft flick of one of her claws as she rejoindered with her mouth half – full.

“For pity’s sake Trevenan, for once just take the compliment and take the damn job. How many more opportunities do you think an old – dog like you will have to sit the Captain’s – Chair in the years to come?” Jalian reasoned (not unreasonably) with her friend and colleague, as she daintily dabbed at her thin lips with a serviette.

Trevenan supposed that, in that moment, he had no truly compelling answer to that.

Commodore Jalian waved her glass towards the wide curving window that mantled the reception space, by way of indicating to the various craft nestled within the cavernous inner – spacedock (and by extension infinite – space beyond the Massive Spacedock doors) taking another sip and urging.

“Go to the Gamma Quadrant, show us that the old – dog’s still got a few tricks left in him yet and for God’s sake Trevenan, try not to start another bloody war with the Dominion!”