Captain’s Log, supplemental.

Just had a rather short conversation with Admiral Harding, Starfleet Sciences, about new orders for Atlantis and diverting to Memory Alpha immediately. As we were speaking, orders from Commodore Ekwueme came through supporting the Admiral’s position. I’ve already given the order to the helm to change course and take us to maximum warp, but the diversion alone is going to cost us the Delta Quadrant for a few months at least. Heck, we won’t even be at Memory Alpha when the wormhole opens.

I’ve already called a senior staff meeting but I can feel the disappointment already. News travels fast and a starship is a close community. Whatever Command us up to, I’m just hoping we can catch the next opening back to the DQ, or anywhere out where this crew excels – pushing at map boundaries.

I was really looking forward to getting a new arm at Guardian dammit.

With Velan’s arrival, the full senior staff was assembled and Tikva saw no reason to delay the confirmation of bad news any further. The confirmation of the orders she’d given the helm went down poorly for a number of the crew, worse for others and amazingly neutral for a couple. Her gaze lingered over Adelinde more than T’Val, since she expected indifference from her Vulcan helmswoman.

“Cap, this is nonsense,” Mac spoke up, the wave of emotions from the others simply given linguistic form with his words. “We’re almost all the way to Guardian now. Two days after that we’ll be in the DQ. Memory Alpha is going to cost us. Surely there has to be another ship that can do whatever Command needs.”

“Mac,” she tried to gesticulate with both hands, then stopped herself, “you’re not saying anything I didn’t already say. Admiral Harding has orders for us and us alone. Something special about our ship apparently.”

Rrr’s thinking rumble, the equivalent to a deep bellied ‘hmm’ in any other species, was a combined experience of feeling and hearing and it always worked to draw attention to the Gaen. “Admiral Harding? Admiral Lucius Harding?” With an affirmative, they continued. “Archaeology and Anthropology at Starfleet Science.”

“Actually,” Gabrielle spoke up, leaning forward so as to be seen by all. “While he’s on the books with Starfleet Science, he’s actually a liaison to the Federation Science Council, specifically the Ancient Civilisations sub-council that specialises in the lost superpowers. Iconians, T’Kon, Preservers, those sorts of powers.”

“We handed over the T’Kon relic when we hit Guardian. They’ve got everything of import from us,” Mac threw out there, then turned back to Tikva. “Cap, there something else to those orders?”

“Wish I knew. Just says best possible speed to Memory Alpha.”

“At our current rate it will take us three days, sixteen hours to arrive.” T’Val’s announcement was the death knell of any hope of making it back to Guardian Station for the Barzan Wormhole back to the Delta Quadrant.

“Well then, that’s that. Everyone dismissed. Oh, and Doctor Terax, could you possibly call ahead to Memory Alpha and see if the hospital there might be able to help?” she asked with a wave of her hand at her left arm.

While gripping and grumbling at the orders from Command hadn’t taken place during the briefing, once everyone had returned to the bridge, those on duty there at any rate, and the captain had passed through to her ready room, it had started and Mac found himself sitting literally and figuratively in the middle of it.

“Just feels like bullshit. The least they could have done is given an explanation for the orders.” He was pretty sure he’d never heard Gabrielle be so dismissive of the orders of Command. “I have a whole list of things I want to do follow up scans on when we get back out there and now they all have to wait months before we can get back out there.”

“Command is prone to keeping orders vague when operational concerns demand it,” Adelinde provided and Mac looked over his shoulder at her with a glare that said ‘not helping’.

“Vague?” Rrr rumbled. “Vague would imply they at least attempted to inform the captain of the reasoning.” They stroked their chin for a moment then continued. “This feels very much like that Omega situation, with orders and no clear reasoning to them.”

“It’s not,” Adelinde quickly added and Mac once more turned to her, trying to read her face. The hardness in the woman’s eyes as she glared at Rrr told him all he needed to know – she believed Tikva’s position about nothing more to the orders.

“Okay, okay,” he finally said, getting to his feet so all could see him properly. “All of this isn’t helping anything.” He turned around to make eye contact with all interested parties, to make sure he was understood. “Command’s orders are likely vague as hell because they aren’t complete. We’re probably being ordered somewhere while someone finishes drafting our proper orders. They know it’s going to take days for us to get there, so they might as well get us moving while they can.”

“What could be so important that only we can do it?” Gabrielle asked.

“Oh, that’s simple,” he said with a smile as he sat back down. “We’re just the best damn looking crew in the galaxy and they want us for one of those fancy science council balls.”

“I highly doubt that,” came a devastating blow from the helm as T’Val spoke up. “The Federation Science Council doesn’t have balls.”

“Was…was that a joke Lieutenant?” Mac asked, looking to the others on the bridge to confirm he had heard what he thought he had heard, the same look of confusion on their faces.

She didn’t even look up from her console, let alone turn around. “A statement of fact.”