“…and make sure engineering knows the lateral sensor array is to be fixed by zero-seven hundred tomorrow. I want to leave here prepared for anything coming our way.”

Strolling in lockstep along deck three, headed in the direction of transporter room one, the two officers in command red were deep in conversation, each looking sterner by the second until they came to an abrupt halt outside of the transporter bay. Looking up at the much taller, older man in front of her, the diminutive Trill fired off a look of dissatisfaction.

“I’m not sure how long I’m going to be on the station,” Captain Nazir remarked as she held out the data PADD she had been reading, “but I want a senior staff briefing before the end of alpha shift. Make it happen, Number One.”

Taking ownership of the data PADD, the much taller Terran, nodded slowly. “Consider it done,” he told in his low, deep tone.

A single nod of acknowledgement between the two, and the giant of a man watched the Trill disappear behind the doors to the transporter room. When she was out of earshot, he shook his head and walked away.

“Sooner she’s out of here, the better…” he whispered under his breath, scowling at a petty officer passing by, and putting the fear of god into the young Bolian.

If the task force operations centre aboard Deep Space 17 was built like an amphitheatre, Captain Andreus Kohl was its prima donna at centre stage.  He had hardly stepped off the turbolift when operations officers waved him down with PADDs in hand.  Curved LCARS workstations were stationed in concentric rings around the massive translucent sector map in the heart of the room.  Kohl turned to examine the status reports dotting the map when a question from another officer pulled him back.

“–omulan Free State diplomat has feedback regarding his quarters–“

“–don’t know what to tell you other than the radiation cloud in the Fincycle system has doubled in–“

“–cannot find a single spore of Diomedian moss on the entire starbase and we promised a shipment to the USS Olympic–“

When the turbolift doors opened again, Kohl used that as an opportunity to offer a stern, “Excuse me,” to the gold-shouldered officer.  There was no guile about it; Kohl escaped from the melee.  He practically skipped up the ramp that led him to the turbolift doors.

His momentum was somewhat halted, however, by the emergence of two female officers wearing the red of the command division, and each adorned with four golden pips upon their collar. Both were in conversation until the older (in appearance anyway) spotted the onrushing man. “Captain Kohl?” the shorter, spotted woman called out.

“Captains!  Hullo,” Kohl said, his attitude warming.  His wan expression broke as he smiled at each of them in turn.  He swept a hand to a transparent-walled conference enclave on the upper-most ring of the operations centre.

“If you’ll follow me?” Kohl requested and immediately lead the way to an upward curving ramp.  “I wish I could offer you refreshments, but my staff is still unpacking after our campaign at the Markonian Outpost.”  With that much said, Kohl fully turned his back on the two captains, climbing the ramp at a quicker pace.  His voice became strained as he went on and took the final steps into the conference enclave.

“After the destruction of our flagship,” Kohl said, “and Captain Mek’s transfer, it hasn’t been an easy homecoming for Task Force Seventeen.”

“Discovery was a fine vessel,” the taller, statuesque looking Vulcan female remarked as she followed the gentleman, seemingly at a much greater ease than he. “But, you are to be commended on your promotion, Captain,” the Vulcan added.

Listening to the exchange between the new Task Force Commander and the Vulcan captain of the Intrepid, the spotted brunette couldn’t help but smirk, and shake her head slowly. “Discovery’s loss, while painful, was preventable,” the Trill stated her opinion, as forthright and truthful as ever. “Starfleet had no business sending so many vessels out there. Losses were inevitable in such a scenario,” Nazir frowned, lagging behind her fellow Captain’s. “I do congratulate you on your promotion, Kohl,” she added.

At Nazir’s comment that the USS Discovery‘s destruction was preventable, Kohl’s expression flattened to a wan grimace.  He dropped his gaze to the room’s meeting table and he touched the appropriate contacts to project privacy filters over the transparent walls of the conference enclave.  Kohl nodded and smiled and he thanked Nazir for the congratulations, and then he tapped another command into the table’s LCARS interface.

In his formal timbre, Kohl said, “I invited you both here because of a new initiative to prevent such losses from occurring again.  Task Force Seventeen has numerous science ships scattered across the Typhon Expanse and further beyond the Typhon Frontier.  Most of them are not equipped for dangers the likes of the Devore.”

Over the meeting table, holographic images of the Prometheus-class USS Prometheus and the Intrepid-class USS Intrepid winked into existence.  Both starships began a slow rotation in matching cadence.

“Effective this stardate,” Kohl said in his formal timbre, “Captain Nazir’s USS Prometheus and Captain T’Prynn’s USS Intrepid are forming the Prometheus Squadron, under Nazir’s overall command.  This squadron’s mandate will be deep space tactical and exploration initiatives in the Typhon Expanse and beyond.  Between the two of your vessels, neither ship will be alone in the deep.  Furthermore, you will offer a safety net for our smaller science ships crossing the expanse.”

Standing around the table, both of the females in the room took note of the man’s instructions, but their reactions were vastly different. T’Prynn remained as stoic as ever, a curt nod the only form of acknowledgement that she gave.

Nazir, on the other hand, bristled as she folded her arms across her chest. “I appreciate Intrepid will be ready to go looking for phenomenon across the expanse, but what shall you have Prometheus do in the meantime? We’re not exactly a ship of exploration,” she reminded the man, not that he needed it. Prometheus was probably the most capable tactical platform in the task force. but an explorer she definitely was not.

“Strategic operations,” Kohl replied.  “Anticipate Starfleet’s need for tactical defense across the Typhon Expanse.  We don’t only have our own ships to worry about, our task force is committed to protecting the Romulan Free State science vessels in the area too.  Moreover, it’s not only external threats you’ll need to anticipate, we have internal threats too.  We’re all aware of Captain sh’Elas murder on board the USS Ulysses.”

“That was inconceivable,” Kohl said, shaking his head.  “My desk is piled with transfer requests from Ulysses crew members.  I’ve drafted orders for them to be transferred to the Intrepid for the sake of their well-being.”

“A number of requests have already crossed my desk,” the Vulcan nodded, her ponytail waving behind her head, “and I have instructed my executive officer to accept them all. Our crew will assist these people to deal with their trauma,” she told in her usual matter of fact tone.

“Thank you, Captain T’Prynn,” Kohl said, with a sombre nod of his head to her.  His eyes cut to Nazir for a moment and then he returned his gaze to the Vulcan captain.  “You are dismissed to see to your crew.  I have the Prometheus‘ first mission parameters to share with Captain Nazir.”

A curt nod of the head signalled the Vulcan’s understanding, and she swivelled on her heels. “It is agreeable to see you Captain,” she acknowledged Nazir, “and I am certain we will see one another again soon.”

“Aye,” Nazir nodded, a faux smile for her troubles.

Kohl waved a hand over the holograms and the projector shut off.  There would be no visual aids for what he had to say next.  Only after the door had closed behind T’Prynn did Kohl provide more context for Captain Nazir.

“The Prometheus‘ first mission will be one of reconnaissance,” Kohl said, “at the coordinates for what Starfleet Intelligence believes is likely the homeworld of the individual who murdered Captain sh’Elas.  Your crew will be responsible for gathering intelligence on this strange new world and ascertaining if its people are amenable to friendship with the Federation.”

Listening to the elaboration of their orders, the Captain of the Prometheus was intrigued at the prospect of finding those responsible for the murder of her colleague, but reconnaissance? Surely Prometheus was overkill for such an endeavour. Still, she was open to hearing more from her new unit commander.

Kohl added, “This mission you will be undertaking is classified.  Even I haven’t been fully briefed.  A liaison from Starfleet Intelligence will be joining you to apprise yourself and Captain T’Prynn of the full scope of your responsibilities.  To support this mission, we have selected three senior officers who worked with Captain sh’Elas on the USS Ulysses to join your crew on the Prometheus.”

Nazir scoffed and shook her head. “I’m certain that the crew I have assembled is more than up to the task, Captain. I don’t think we need the baggage that comes with these officers…”

“They have first-hand knowledge,” Kohl said, figuratively pushing back on Nazir, “of the individual and her capabilities.  Once your reconnaissance is complete, you can drop them off on the starbase and you’ll have your own choice of… baggage going forward.”

Nazir’s eye’s narrowed as she regarded the man in front of her. Her certainly wasn’t Mek, that was for sure. It would be some time before she truly had the measure of this new task force commander, but for now she knew she would be foolish to push back any further. “Very well,” she nodded in agreement.

Kohl responded with a placid smile.

“Aside from everything your Starfleet Intelligence liaison may tell you about the mission’s parameters,” Kohl said dryly, “what questions do you have about Prometheus Squadron?”

“I’m not sure two ships really make a squadron…” the Trill mused, arms folded across her chest, “and I’m not sure Prometheus will be of much use from an exploration perspective in the expanse, but we’ll make it work.”

“Don’t worry about exploration,” Kohl insisted, half-humorously.  “That’s what the task force’s science ships are for.  I don’t want their captains to have to worry about their tactical defense.  It’s your job to keep them safe.”

The conversation between the two officers continued for a short while, a back and forth of considerations and concerns about matters ranging from personnel transfers, to other ships stationed in the expanse that Prometheus would have to be mindful of. All in all, as the conversation progressed, a more cordial note seemed to have been achieved between the two. Upon parting ways, they even shared a hand shake of appreciation and hope for continued working together.

Attention now turned to matters elsewhere; for the Trill, she had a squadron to run, crew members to board and a ship to prepare.