Come senators, congressmen, please heed the call
Don’t stand in the doorway, don’t block up the hall
For he that gets hurt will be he who has stalled
‘Cause the battle outside ragin’
Will soon shake your windows and rattle your walls
For the times, they are a-changin’

Bob Dylan, The Times They Are A Changin, 1963

Captain Tyrone Carver tossed his uniform jacket over the back of a chair and had a seat on the sofa in his new quarters. Bric had insisted that he use one of sets of Flag Staff quarters because  even though he was only a lowly Captain, he was still nominally the senior ranking officer in the sector. The quarters were usually reserved for Commodores and Admirals and were an artifact of a time long gone, back when Watchtowers served as major hubs and sector command posts.

At one point in the 2340s, Eos station had even been the regional headquarters for patrols along the Romulan border spanning six sectors. But now they were barely receiving enough support to even look after a small belt of seven star systems and a bunch of unruly miners and pirates. But an Admiral hadn’t been within 10 lightyears of Eos in well over a year, and any dignitaries would be put up in thd newly renovated VIP wing or Hotel that ringed the outer perimeter of the Arboretum.

By modern standards the quarters seemed dated and with a blocky angular layout. In size, they were equivalent to what a senior Lt or Department Head aboard an Odyssey or Kitty Hawk-class ship would receive, and paled in comparison to his apartment suite back on Earth, but still, they were more than adequate for his needs. After the wild and busy first few days he had had aboard, it didn’t seemed Carver like he wouldn’t be spending much time enjoying his accommodations.

“Computer, begin Squadron log, stardate 24036.8…Starfleet Command has forwarded orders stating that the station will be hosting a major diplomatic event that starts in 10 days. They’ve also informed us that the Trenton Squadron and a few other support vessels would be providing security for the event in addition to deal with their other mission priorities. We’ll have delegations from five different regional powers, and some high profile contingent from the Federation led by Ambassador Alonzo Krey. I guess he is apparently hoping to help broker yet another multi-lateral agreement.”

Carver caught himself before he said anything overtly derogatory. As the CO of a Squadron, his reports and logs would likely travel higher up the chain than if he was just a staffer, or even ships CO.

“Sure Eos can accommodate a few hundred extra people, but the security and logistics preparations for something like this usually takes months of planning and prep work. The Federation council want us to pull this all together with pirates and Orions roaming freely through the Belt and the Romulans performing exercises just down the border from us… and we will. At least the Engineers have finally finished their verifications and deficiency work and have retrograded out of here. I don’t even know where to begin in describing everything that’s happened here today…”

Ty stood and strolled around his small living and over to the dining nook as he continued recording.

“A suspected serial killer led a bunch of security on a foot chase through the promenade before jumping off the third story of the promenade directly into the path of an oncoming tram. The areas an absolutely mess and the whole section of the promenade was shut down for an investigation.”

Carver winced, having viewed the scene himself mere moments after it had occurred.

“We got the final word from the second convoy, they lost another three pilots from Eos and two Provosts in the skirmish at the nebula. The rest of the squadron is already deploying to the Belt as we speak. We have the assets with the speed and capabilities to deal with these outlaws now, and I’ve extended Captain Bric’s emergency declaration to include the Delta Hodia system. The Trenton and her auxiliary craft will perform a sweep though the near edge of the Belt and push them back towards their base.”

Carver put his hands on his hips and looked to the ceiling as he paused and stretched.

“Command has promised to provide additional ships if they’re needed, but by my reckoning, a half dozen more ships were needed months ago, so what’s the hold up? I’ve dispatched the Malem with most of Commander Fields SMU aboard to perform reconnaissance in advance of a potential mission to recover the Meade and her crew. It’s my first time working with a Reman before, but from what I can tell from his record and my few brief interactions with him, the Commander of the Malem is a dedicated leader and cunning strategist.”

Carver sighed before continuing. This was a long log.

“I’ve also authorized our new Intelligence operative to perform an undercover operation with the goal of having her get in the ground at Port Freedom and get us some more detailed info about how these pirates operate. The Romulans are still performing fleet exercises just 6 lightyears away down the border. But on the bright side the station’s new Federation Trade Mission has already stood itself up and began the process of coordinating and facilitating trade to and from the belt. From what I gather Inspector Thompson and Trade Envoy Sajjan have been developing their plans for months, and were ready to go as soon as they boarded the station. I greatly appreciate all the hard work that both of them have been puting in since we arrived…computer end log and file it with Task Force 72, and both 4th Fleet Operations and Intelligence.” Carver walked towards the sonic shower and began stripping off the rest of his uniform as the computer chirped its acknowledgments.