Standing Relieved

Posted on 05 Jun 2016 @ 3:32pm by Commodore Harvey Geisler

537 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Outbreak
Location: USS Black Hawk || Ready Room
Timeline: MD15 || 1000 hours

Harvey stood in his Ready Room, again gazing out his window. Over the last week, the sight of Yolvanda II had become an unpleasant one. Thousands had perished from the plague, even after a cure had been discovered. The antibodies could only grow so fast since they could not be replicated.

Still, Harvey was thankful that the death toll was not higher. And, he was glad to see the USS Hopkins, the only Olympic-class ship in the Gamma Quadrant, floating off in the distance. Over a month ago, the Hopkins had its own issues with the Consortium, and thankfully Starfleet maintained control of the medical ship.

Harvey turned to look at the stack of PADDs on his desk. The paperwork had only mounted in the last few days, a simple feat accomplished only because he lacked a command team. His hesitation to select a second officer had come to bite him in the ass after Xiao lost his life attempting a repair. He’d already put in a request to Commodore O’Connell for a replacement XO, but part of him still hoped Commander Kos would be cleared for duty soon. He needed familiar faces around him, but more importantly, he needed a team.

His crew had performed admirably in spite of the struggles. He’d lost seven crew members during this crisis. The likelihood of all seven being replaced upon their return to Unity was small. Task Force Nine was still stretched thin, and that wouldn’t change until the tide was turned.

Though they were outnumbered and outgunned, Harvey knew they still had a chance. The Consortium hastily used a virus that wasn’t ready. Had they spent even just an extra hour fine tuning the virus before launching that probe, the death toll would have been much higher. Maybe even catastrophic.

He was also left to consider the probe. It had been five days since it came aboard, and further investigation revealed that it had operated as it was designed, straight down to the internal recorders. Someone knew that probe would be found, and deliberately left enough clues to incriminate the USS Chimera. It had to be a cry for help. Someone knew they were doing the wrong thing, but lived in fear of the consequences of honoring the uniform. Harvey thought of this individual of the thousands of Starfleet officers and crew members throughout the quadrant, unknowingly, or knowingly, following the orders of the Consortium.

This fight had to be taken to the Consortium before worse events transpired. The task force had to be restored and done so without further delay.

“Bridge to Captain Geisler,” came a lieutenant’s voice over the comm.

“Go ahead,” Harvey replied.

“The Hopkins has cleared us from quarantine, Captain.”

About damn time. “Set a course for Starbase Unity, maximum cruising speed. Let’s get the hell out of here.” Harvey replied.

“Acknowledged, Captain,” replied the lieutenant. A chirp closed the channel, and Harvey looked to the window to see the Black Hawk begin to turn away from the planet and look for a warp vector. He’d head for the bridge in a moment, but first he had some decisions to make about his crew.

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