Having a starship without a Captain was like a sailing ship without a rudder – no ability to steer its way in any direction and left at a standstill. That had been the fate of Lakota ever since her commanding officer had resigned and her executive had been promoted elsewhere. Commander Vashara Zail had been brought in by Captain Nazir less than a month ago to serve as Strategic Operations officer for the whole squadron but had now found herself unofficially the acting captain of the flagship since Starfleet had made the unusual step to not appoint an interim commanding officer following Nazir’s departure. She’d done her best to answer questions and keep the proverbial wolves at bay, but with every day that passed, the uncertainty among the crew grew, and that wasn’t good for any ship, least of all one as large as Lakota.

Thankfully, as dawn crept over the horizon and Zail enjoyed her breakfast with the rest of the senior staff in the officer’s mess, news reached them that a new commanding officer had finally been appointed and would be with them that very morning. To say it was a relief was probably an understatement. It meant that not only would they finally have some direction, but they’d also be free to leave Deep Space 11 and head off on a new adventure. Respite at DS11 had been long hoped for, but the Nazir tribunal had left a bitter taste in the mouths of so many that they just wanted to leave and put the whole debacle behind them. A new commanding officer meant that was now a probability rather than a possibility. With the news digesting alongside their assortment of vibrant, flavoursome foods, Zail had requested the available senior officers spend the rest of the morning getting their departments in order, then report to the transporter room for the new commanding officer’s arrival when the time was confirmed. Prida, Henry and Voran would ensure all systems were functioning within normal parameters. Orax was still getting to grips with the tactical department after his arrival and drills were the order of the morning there. Meanwhile, the ‘Blue Shirts’ were involved in a remote medical conference from Bolarus, and would be out of commission for anything but the Captain’s arrival.

At precisely 11.59am, with less than sixty seconds of the morning left, two transporter beams began to materialise on the pad of transporter room two, the senior staff assembling at the shortest of notice. Malhotra, the new science chief, had been last to arrive after giving his thoughts on the transmissibility of a virus on Bolarus’ fourth moon, but he’d arrived just in time for the swirling particles to begin the reformation process. When they recombined to show two figures on the platform, an audible gasp from Prida, a knowing, excited nod of approval from Nikti and a ’Nice one!’ from Henry caused some of the newer faces to look on with added confusion.

Standing immediately before them, looking resplendent in his crimson uniform, Captain Giarvar Kauhn grinned, nodding in thanks for the warm reception from a few of the faces at least. He searched the faces before him and clocked the strategist standing to the left of the group.

“Commander Zail. I’m Captain Giarvar Kauhn,” the Trill nodded at the green-skinned woman, “permission to come aboard?”

Stepping forward, the Commander nodded her acknowledgement and held out a hand to the newcomer. “Welcome to Lakota, Captain. Please,” she then gestured for the Captain to step off the transporter pad and take his place on his new ship.

Stepping down, the Trill took the offered hand and shook it firmly.

Standing at attention, the Commander tugged on the hem of her uniform jacket and began the formalities.

“Attention to Orders,” she instructed those in the room. Then, she began reciting the formalities from memory, having made it her task over the last few days to make the process as seamless as possible. “Captain Giarvar Kauhn, USS Hypatia. As of Stardate 240110.12, you are hereby requested and required to relinquish command of your vessel, thus assuming the role of Commanding Officer, USS Lakota. Signed, Commodore Uzoma Ekwueme.”

As Giarvar listened to the change of orders so ably recited by Zail, he made eye contact with a grinning Prida and gave her a coy wink.

Nodding slowly, Zail gave the Trill another smile. “Computer,” she called out, “transfer all command codes to Captain Giarvar Kauhn. Voice authorisation, Zail Alpha-Three-Seven-Tango.”

Almost instantly, the computer beeped. “Transfer complete. USS Lakota now under command of Captain Giarvar Kauhn.”

Giarvar smiled gladly and offered his hand more formally. “I relieve you, Commander.”

With a laugh and a wry smile, the Orion took his hand and shook it emphatically. “I stand incredibly happy to be relieved, Captain.”

A ripple of laughter travelled around the assembled group before Giarvar quickly turned his attention to Prida. “Come on in, you,” he grinned.

Holding his arms out wide, Prida, like a giddy school child, slipped into his grasp and wrapped her arms around him. “I prayed to the prophets that it would be you,” she whispered to him as they embraced. “If ever we’ve needed you back, it’s now.”

For a second, he held her just a fraction tighter, letting her know that he acknowledged her and that he was relieved he could answer her prayer, even if he didn’t believe in religion in the same way she did. When he eventually let go, he shared a typically manly hug with Henry, accompanied by loud pats on the back, and then a warm hug and smile with Nikti, congratulating her on a well-deserved promotion to the senior staff as Doctor Zinn’s replacement. Zail then took a few moments to introduce the Captain to those senior staff he’d never met before: Voran, the Vulcan at Ops; Tactical Chief Orax, the Denobulan; Viviene, or Viv, the Counsellor; and Commander Malhotra, Lakota’s newest science officer.

It was during this exchange that Prida and Henry finally made eye contact with the second officer who had beamed aboard, their expressions souring upon a stark realisation hitting them like a phaser blast to the chest. They knew this woman, and they had never wanted to see her again, let alone welcome her aboard their ship.

Giarvar noticed the looks from his friends and purposefully stepped between them and the woman on the transporter pad. Holding out a hand, and with a smile, he waved her onto the deck. “Folks,” he smiled, looking around the group, “this is Commander Kerina Martens.”

“Good afternoon everyone,” she nodded around the group, hands clasped tight behind her back. While her face remained cold and grey, her hands almost turned white with the pressure of the grip she held them in.

“Commander?” Prida asked, folding her arms across her chest. “I thought it was Captain?”

“My promotion to Captain was for the purpose of the tribunal only,” Martens explained matter of factly, “since it would have been unseemly to have a Fleet Captain prosecuted by a Commander.” Her words were said with a particular sting.

“Commander Marten will be joining us as our executive officer,” Giarvar told, his words being met with looks of incredulity. Before anyone else could say anything, he quickly highlighted his expectation that the crew would treat her with the same respect as they would their previous XO, or even him.

“Understood, Commander?” he looked at Prida, with raised eyebrows until she nodded in agreement.

“Excellent!” he rubbed his hands together and then looked at Henry. “Right Lieutenant, how about you show us around whilst the rest of the team gets back to their work? I want us to be ready for mission operations at the drop of a hat.”

With a glance at the Cardassian who would now be serving as XO, Flyboy let out a forced smile. “As you wish, Captain,” he agreed, stepping ahead of the group and leading the two newcomers onto their tour of the ship.

At the back of the group and watching the new XO leave, the Bajassian engineer scowled. This was something she’d definitely have to tell Noli in their next catch-up.