The observation deck overlooking the mangled starship was as quiet as a tomb. And almost as dark as one, if not for the floodlights illuminating the broken ship, casting all its injuries and scars into stark illumination. Reflected light cast long fingers of illumination through windows, silhouetting the two figures standing by the windows and a third other, who dutifully stood somewhat removed from them.

Work crews and small craft scuttled over the ship like insects, pealing back hull panels, laying bare what was just under the surface, getting to damage that couldn’t easily be reached from inside. In some places, crews cut deeper into the flesh of the ship, to reach for larger damages and ready the ship for replacements where needed.

“It took fucking months to get her into a repair slip,” the shorter individual of the two growled after an age of silence, staring down at the ship. “And now I’m losing her.”

“You’re not losing her,” the taller individual said, her voice calm and soothing compared to the growl beside her. “Atlantis is going to take a few months, at minimum, to be operational again. You, on the other hand, are a bit too important now to sit around watching your ship get repaired. After all, you have a squadron to command.”

“Don’t remind me,” Tikva Theodoras muttered as she nudged the woman beside her with her shoulder to barely any effect. A hand rose to rub at the new ornamentation on her collar, worrying away at it for a few seconds before being pulled away, balled into a first before slowly lowering.

FROM: Commodore Uzoma Ekwueme, Fourth Fleet
TO: Fleet Captain Tikva Theodoras, USS Atlantis

Fleet Captain,

With your service record and accomplishments, and in light of the recent defence of Betazed, it is my pleasure to inform you that you are being promoted, effective immediately, to the rank of commodore, with all privileges and responsibilities that entail.

As you are more than aware, Starfleet is in dire need of capable leadership at all levels in these interesting times. While your last two promotions have been under somewhat compressed time scales, as is this one, trust that we would not be promoting you if we did not think you capable of the responsibilities we are entrusting you with.

With this promotion, though, we cannot allow you to remain idle while USS Atlantis undergoes her repairs following the Vaadwaur assault. Were the damage assessments that I have seen lesser, it may have been a consideration, I assure you. But I fear that the assessments we have both seen are, if anything, optimistic.

As such, Commodore Theodoras, you are hereby directed and required to proceed aboard USS Canopus, NCC-84001, there to take upon yourself the duties and responsibilities of command of the vessel and your squadron.

Further orders will be conveyed upon your assumption of command.

Fair winds and smooth sailing, Commodore.

Commodore Uzoma Ekwueme
Fourth Fleet

“At least the Vaadwaur only severed the nacelle pylon and didn’t smash the nacelle itself,” Tikva said, casting her eyes to the shortened stump of Atlantis’ starboard nacelle pylon. The repair crews hadn’t been gentle when they first started there, simply cutting away metres of wrecked material, like an army of barber-surgeons opting to just cut back a limb.

Not like we don’t have experience with that ourselves!

And hey, just like us, the Iron Bitch is gonna need some rehab.

So, this is how we decide to tell ourselves the name can stick?

Oh please, the crew wouldn’t let it drop after this.

“That the assessment for the nacelle only came back with superficial damages is somewhat remarkable,” Adelinde said as she cast her gaze around, looking for the wayward nacelle and failing to spot it, kept somewhere out of sight and getting its own attention right now.

“Two broken starships, sixty-three dead, another fifty on Betazed’s defence platforms.” Tikva’s tone wavered between anger, exhaustion and relief in equal measure. “If I ever see another Vaadwaur ship, I’m shooting first and damn the consequences.”

“No, you’re not,” Adelinde countered.

“But I want to,” Tikva replied.

“Oh, so do I.”

Silence settled back over the observation deck once more, interrupted only by a wayward arrival that was scared off by a simple look from the figure standing apart. A glance, a tilt of a head that said ‘go away’ and the intruder departed. But only a moment later a demanding chirp broke the silence, followed by polite clearing of throat.

“How long, Stirling?” Tikva asked lazily, having taken to leaning on Adelinde in the meantime.

“Canopus has just entered the system and will be in transporter range within the hour,” Stirling Fightmaster, now a full lieutenant, answered. “I’ll make sure your belongings are transferred over immediately.”

“Let the quartermasters and their minions do their thing,” Tikva answered. “You aren’t my yeoman anymore.”

Adelinde turned just enough to look at Stirling, offering a nod of respect to the young man. “Again, congratulations on making flag lieutenant,” she said.

“Thank you, Commander.”

“That said, I should be getting back to Atlantis to assist Commander Kennedy,” Adelinde said, starting to slowly untangle Tikva’s arms from around her own left arm.

“Ch’tkk’va can handle it,” Tikva said, letting Adelinde separate the two of them, looking up at the taller woman. “After all, I might have been somewhat remiss in actually dispatching some orders.” As Adelinde stepped away from her, a brow raised questioningly, Tikva smiled. “Commander Gantzmann, I’ll be needing you to report aboard USS Canopus, there to assume the duties as squadron strategic operations chief.”

Silence, a studious gaze, then Adelinde took in a slow breath.

Tikva beat her to the punch, raising a hand to cut off any protest. “No, I am not pulling shenanigans because of our relationship. I consulted with Mac and Rhea first,” referring to Captains MacIntyre and Garland, “then the rest of the squadron captains for good measure. And then yes, I have been in communication with a bunch of people from Personnel, who’ve had words with Gavin and the squadron COs as well, for good measure. You’re the best person for the job; you know the region, subject matter, and have working relationships with most of the squadron tactical officers by now. I can either get someone else in and spend months waiting for them to work up while you sit on Atlantis supervising repairs and training, or bring you along with me to Canopus.”

Adelinde just blinked, then turned to look at Stirling, who nodded once, confirming silently the lengths Tikva had gone to. “And no objections were made?”

“Nathan wasn’t happy. He wants a highly skilled tactical officer when Atlantis leaves port. But aside from that, he was pleased. And Mac said I’d be an idiot not to assign you to the job. And command just grumbled in that ‘it’s your command’ sort of way.”

Adelinde took a moment more to think, to look out the windows again at the starship Atlantis, swarming with those who fully intended to make good its ills, eventually. After wrecking so many more.

“I’ll need to pack,” Adelinde finally said, assenting to the order.

“Want a hand?”

Adelinde snorted, turning with a smile to Tikva. “Only if I want to lose something,” she said. “Besides, you really should report aboard Canopus as soon as you can.”

“I have an hour,” Tikva said defensively. “Besides, they can wait. What are they going to do, leave without me?” A subtle cough from Stirling brought Tikva’s mock-fury upon him. “Starbase 80,” she said threateningly to the young man.

“Not the punishment posting it would have been in your junior officer days, ma’am,” Stirling replied. “If you’ll excuse me, ma’am, I’ll make arrangements for your packages to be delivered and for some empty containers to be delivered outside your quarters, Commander Gantzmann.”

“Thank you, Stirling,” Tivka answered for the two of them. And soon enough, the observation deck was just the two of them in the wake of Stirling’s departure. “Fine, if you don’t want my help packing, how about lunch then?”

“You don’t want to stay here and continue complaining about being reassigned?” Adelinde asked jokingly.

“Oh, I’ll still be complaining. Just with ramen,” Tikva answered, heading for the door and transporters beyond, soon whisking away to the nearby starbase.