Inside the Thesis Ready Room, or what was left of it, the air was so brittle it could snap, and if it didn’t, Italia Ruas thought she might. Standing behind the safety of her desk, she had locked eyes with her Santa Fe counterpart and not moved for what felt like minutes. No-one spoke, what was there to say? Platitudes wouldn’t cut it right now. Instead, the Trill let out a slow, controlled breath and attempted to loosen her body movements. Her eyes moved with the alertness that came from heavy stress and her hands remained behind her back, clenched by subconscious demand.

“So…” she finally spoke, breaking the deadlock between the two command level officers. “Care to tell me exactly why I’m being relieved of my command?” she queried, her gaze never leaving the face of her Andorian counterpart, hands clasped together tight behind her back. She was more than a little annoyed, but was sure there had to be some reason for the blue-skinned woman’s orders.

Echoing Ruas’ stance, Captain sh’Elas took a step toward the desk. “Admiral Hanson is questioning your command, your decision making and your ability to keep this crew safe,” she added. It hit her like a rock as she said the words, imagining, albeit briefly, how she would have felt if the roles were reversed. She relaxed her stance a little and moved closer to her colleague. “Listen, I don’t like it anymore than you do, but I have my orders. Hanson feels this ship has lurched from one disaster to another in the last few months, and he feels you’re partly to blame,” Tharia frowned, her arms falling to her side as she spoke. “My orders are to safeguard the lives of this crew, and get the ship to Starbase Two-One-One, where there will be an inquiry into recent events.”

“What a sham,” the Trill responded with a shake of her head, pulling out her desk chair and collapsing into it. “There would be no inquiry, no risk to my people, if we hadn’t been ordered to trial this ridiculous technology in the first place!” She barked, incredulous. Realising that she had snapped at the Andorian, the Captain held out a hand and offered the woman a seat opposite her. “I know you’re doing your job, and following orders, but surely you can see that, right?” She enquired, almost pleadingly towards the Santa Fe’s mistress.

As she took the offered seat, Tharia felt herself nodding. “I imagine you’re right,” she agreed, tentatively, “but why keep going if you believe it to be so ridiculous? You must have relayed your concerns to command?” She queried, right knee crossing over left as she got comfortable, hands gripping the arm of the chair.

“Of course I told them,” Ruas scoffed, her brown eyes watering ever so slightly at the realisation of what was taking place. “After the incident at Sathea, my crew and I submitted extensive reports on the matter, but all Starfleet cares about right now is the defence of their territory. They want every advantage they can get over potential threats, and you know how much elements within command have hated the fact we have had such a weakness compared to our neighbours,” she told, well and truly on her soapbox now as she felt the need to defend herself for as long as she could. “The Romulans and Klingons have long had the advantage of a cloak, and people in command still think the Treaty of Algeron was a mistake, that it limited our capabilities. They see this system as a way around that prohibition,” she concluded.

“The treaty has kept the peace as much as possible since it was signed. Without it, we would never have achieved peace. I can’t believe Starfleet are so blinded to that, that they would push on with such a dangerous endeavour like this,” Tharia shook her head slowly. Actually, maybe she could after recent times. It wasn’t that long ago that Starfleet, and the Federation had bordered on xenophobia when it came to outside species, and plowed resources into ships such as the one they found themselves standing on. But with the opening of new fronts of exploration, she had hoped that maybe things would change.

Perhaps if things were to change, then maybe someone needed to step up and force the matter? “Look,” she continued as she sat forward in the chair and gripped her hands together on the table between them. “We’ve got your ship in a tractor beam, you’re going nowhere. I think we can dispense with the formalities of taking your command away,” Tharia let out a wry smile. “You can keep your ship Captain.”

Italia let out a huge sigh of relief, acknowledging the Andorian’s gesture with a smile of gratitude. “Thank you for not ending my career,” the Trill relaxed somewhat, convinced her symbiont would have been doing backflips of joy in her torso if it was able to.

Rising to her feet, the Andorian slapped her thighs with both hands. “Our repair and medical teams are at your disposal as long as you need them. If there’s anything else you need in the meantime, let me know?” the Santa Fe’s commander offered thoughtfully before departing from the office and recalling her security team. There would be no change of command today.

Walking across the bridge of the Thesis beside her commander, Lieutenant Noli couldn’t help but feel somewhat confused. As one of the Captain’s most trusted confidantes, she had been fully briefed on the Captain’s orders, and thought she knew exactly what the Andorian was going to do. “Our orders, ma’am?” she asked in a hushed tone, looking up at the taller woman.

Exchanging glances with her subordinate as they reached the transporter site once again, the Andorian simply responded with three little words.

“Screw our orders.”