05-02-2024, 08:00 PM
It had been two weeks since the crew of the Philadelphia had returned in disgrace from their last assignment. The vessel smashed and under tow. Her commanding officer under house arrest, and the crew under investigation for possible dissent and mutiny?
Many of the crew were reassigned immediately on their landing on DS9. The senior staff in particular were ordered to remain where they were while the resultant inquiry took place.
Maz had honestly thought that was the end of her. To say that she was on borrowed time this last decade was putting it mildly. When she'd testified to her role in the events that had occurred. Her standing with Captain Braggins against Commander Jensen, and her later taking part in the theft of the Yeager. She'd deep down known the gig was up. When she, as a previously convicted murderer, was then asked to take a psychometric examination she could hardly refuse.
Then nothing for the last fortnight.
She'd been allowed to go about whatever business she wanted to both on the station and down on Bajor itself if she so chose to do so. Just so long as she didn't leave the system.
Waiting is hell...
Then this morning, when she woke up. The communications terminal was flashing a pending message. Orders had been issued.
She checked the senders address and ID to confirm it wasn't Papaver playing a joke, but it was official.
[To: Lieutenant Mazikeen T. Black
As of Stardate 2405.02. You are here by ordered and required to proceed to the Antares Shipyards, Bajoran Sector at your earliest convenience.
Once there you will report to your commanding officer for further orders.
LCdr David Badiel
Starfleet Personnel & Logistics Office
Sol Sector]
So she'd been reassigned. Not cached. Not this time at least.
After breakfast, she'd packed what she had, which wasn't much. The few belongings she did have were somewhere in the aether that was Starfleets routing service, that always seemed to deliver anything two months after you were reassigned elsewhere. And she couldn't find Papaver either to let her know she was being reassinged. So she left a message and headed for the docking ring for a ship she had been informed by station Ops was heading in the Antares' direction that morning on it's way out of the sector.
The trip took the good part of the day to reach the destination. Antares were the yards that had spawned ships like the Defiant, and Sabre classes. Good dependable workhorses. Being assigned here would probably mean she was now going to be shunting the ships from one site to another. A glorified haulage pilot.
And as they came into view, she looked out from the viewport at the massive articulation frame that held something akin to... Is that a Pathfinder mated to a Perry? WTH?
Someone from the bridge contacted her informing her that they had been given transport coordinates for her.
She looked at the Kludge hanging in the frame one last time as she headed to the transporter room and inwardly shuddered as she recalled the last set foot on something like it. Two weeks ago.
“Energise.” she said to the operator as the view changed to the interior of her next assignment...
Many of the crew were reassigned immediately on their landing on DS9. The senior staff in particular were ordered to remain where they were while the resultant inquiry took place.
Maz had honestly thought that was the end of her. To say that she was on borrowed time this last decade was putting it mildly. When she'd testified to her role in the events that had occurred. Her standing with Captain Braggins against Commander Jensen, and her later taking part in the theft of the Yeager. She'd deep down known the gig was up. When she, as a previously convicted murderer, was then asked to take a psychometric examination she could hardly refuse.
Then nothing for the last fortnight.
She'd been allowed to go about whatever business she wanted to both on the station and down on Bajor itself if she so chose to do so. Just so long as she didn't leave the system.
Waiting is hell...
Then this morning, when she woke up. The communications terminal was flashing a pending message. Orders had been issued.
She checked the senders address and ID to confirm it wasn't Papaver playing a joke, but it was official.
[To: Lieutenant Mazikeen T. Black
As of Stardate 2405.02. You are here by ordered and required to proceed to the Antares Shipyards, Bajoran Sector at your earliest convenience.
Once there you will report to your commanding officer for further orders.
LCdr David Badiel
Starfleet Personnel & Logistics Office
Sol Sector]
So she'd been reassigned. Not cached. Not this time at least.
After breakfast, she'd packed what she had, which wasn't much. The few belongings she did have were somewhere in the aether that was Starfleets routing service, that always seemed to deliver anything two months after you were reassigned elsewhere. And she couldn't find Papaver either to let her know she was being reassinged. So she left a message and headed for the docking ring for a ship she had been informed by station Ops was heading in the Antares' direction that morning on it's way out of the sector.
The trip took the good part of the day to reach the destination. Antares were the yards that had spawned ships like the Defiant, and Sabre classes. Good dependable workhorses. Being assigned here would probably mean she was now going to be shunting the ships from one site to another. A glorified haulage pilot.
And as they came into view, she looked out from the viewport at the massive articulation frame that held something akin to... Is that a Pathfinder mated to a Perry? WTH?
Someone from the bridge contacted her informing her that they had been given transport coordinates for her.
She looked at the Kludge hanging in the frame one last time as she headed to the transporter room and inwardly shuddered as she recalled the last set foot on something like it. Two weeks ago.
“Energise.” she said to the operator as the view changed to the interior of her next assignment...