By The Names On The Page - Part 1
Posted on Sat May 16th, 2026 @ 11:55pm by Captain Saelira Venn & Commander Vren'desh Son of Rukas
3,073 words; about a 15 minute read
Mission:
Prologue: Taking On Crew
Location: Captain’s Ready Room - USS Resolute
Timeline: MD001 - 0812 hours
Saelira stood by the viewport with her hands loosely folded behind her back, watching the ordered chaos around Starbase 421.
From this distance, the station looked almost peaceful. A fixed point of light and structure against the dark, surrounded by the slow movement of ships, shuttles, workbees and cargo haulers. Traffic came and went in disciplined lanes, each vessel carrying its own schedule, its own small urgency, its own quiet importance.
The Resolute sat in high orbit, close enough to share in the station’s rhythm but far enough away to remain apart from it. That suited Saelira well enough. Ships, like people, needed room to breathe before they were asked to become something new.
And the Resolute was becoming something new.
Not all at once. Never all at once. But the signs were there: transfer orders, departure notices, incoming personnel files, revised duty rosters, cargo manifests, requests for quarters, medical clearances and the endless little administrative truths that came with turning names on a page into people aboard her ship.
Some of those names would pass through without needing much more than a signature and a bunk assignment. Others would need consideration. Not because they were troublesome, necessarily, but because they mattered. Departmental gaps. Senior appointments. Officers with complicated records. Specialists whose placement could shape more than their own career.
Those were the ones she had left unopened.
Not because she could not review them alone, but because she had no intention of doing so.
After two years, Saelira had learned the value of waiting for Commander Vren’desh before making a first judgement on certain files. His view was rarely gentle, occasionally inconvenient, and often exactly what she needed to hear. He did not soften his concerns for the sake of comfort, which made his loyalty far more useful than simple agreement.
Behind her, the ready room desk waited with the relevant files queued and untouched.
The door chime sounded.
Saelira kept her eyes on the shuttle traffic for one more moment, watching a small personnel craft peel away from the starbase and begin its approach towards the Resolute.
Then she turned.
“Come in.”
Vren'desh had served on the Resolute for two years. During that time he had learned to lift his suspicions when it came to Saelira. Like most of her species she was a good listener, and that was often something that he needed. This moment came at an inopportune time in Vren'desh's mind. There was so much to get done out there. Instead they were stock in dock handling crew rotations.
Despite this feeling of stagnancy he arrived at the Ready Room with a fresh pot of his home brewed rachtijino. Something that he always did for the Captain in situations such as this. "Morning Captain. I have a pot of my special blend. I think we are going to need it as we sift through these crew transfer requests."
Saelira’s expression softened almost at once, the kind of change that would have been easy to miss if someone did not know her well. With Vren’desh, it showed a little more freely than it might have with others. Two years had earned him that. Two years of blunt reports, difficult calls, late briefings, and the occasional look across the bridge that said more than either of them would have put into words while the crew were watching.
“You know,” she said, glancing from him to the pot he carried, “there are officers who bring their captain problems. You bring caffeine first. It is one of your better habits.”
She moved away from the viewport and crossed back towards the desk, though she did not sit immediately. The queued personnel files waited there, orderly and patient, which made them no less tedious. Saelira understood Vren’desh’s frustration more than she needed to say. The Resolute was a ship built to move, and there was always a particular restlessness that came with sitting in orbit while cargo was inventoried, quarters reassigned, and personnel shuffled like pieces on a board. Necessary work, certainly, but necessity did not make it feel less like being asked to hold one’s breath.
“I share the feeling,” she admitted, gesturing for him to set the pot down. “Being this close to a starbase always gives the illusion that everything should happen faster. Supplies arrive, crew depart, orders update, and somehow the ship feels less ready for the motion around her.” Her eyes moved briefly back to the viewport, to the small craft approaching through traffic control’s neat lanes. “But she needs this. So do the crew. Downtime, even inconvenient downtime, has a way of revealing what a mission tempo hides.”
There was warmth in her gaze when she looked back at him, but also the familiar edge of purpose. This was not a social call, not entirely. Vren’desh knew that. She knew he knew it. That was part of why their working rhythm had survived two years without becoming brittle.
“And as much as I would prefer not to spend the morning sorting through transfer recommendations,” she continued, lowering herself into her chair at last, “I would rather do it carefully now than discover three weeks from now that we allowed convenience to choose our people for us.”
She reached for one of the cups kept near the sideboard and set it within reach of him before taking her own.
“So,” Saelira said, with a faint, knowing smile as she looked at the unopened files. “Let us see who Starfleet believes we need, who we actually need, and where the two opinions have decided to argue with each other.”
Vren'desh sipped his coffee as she spoke. He believed that they represented two sides of the same coin. Where he was blunt and up front in most things, she was poetic and soft spoken when she needed. Perhaps that was the temperament that came with being a Captain.
The Klingon was glad to go over the files. As it gave him a chance to become familiar with the incoming crew and learn what to expect from them. He set his cup down on the desk and drew a PADD from the stack. "I believe we should start with Security & Tactical. I have narrowed it down to three candidates. Lieutenant Commander Hadir Prenar. A Cardassian officer currently aboard the USS Orcrist. He comes from an Intelligence background. Lieutenant Lorek a Vulcan. He currently serves aboard the USS Endeavour. His record is clean, and he has been trained by Klingons." Vren'Desh could not help but appriciate that fact from the Vulcan. "Finally, Lieutenant Dartaw K'Gunn on Empok Nor. Lorek has my recommendation. Captain Elijah Rutherford of the Orcrist would be hard pressed to accept a transfer of the Cardassian. Dartaw on Empok Nor has his hands full with the politics there and getting someone up to speed would be nigh impossible. Lorek has the logic of a Vulcan and the tactics of my people. Perhaps the best fit."
Saelira took a slow sip of the raktajino while Vren’desh laid out the names, letting him speak without interruption. That was one of the easier courtesies between them. He did not waste words when he had already made up his mind, and she had learned that if Vren’desh offered a recommendation that cleanly, he had usually sharpened it against several objections before bringing it to her desk.
She set the cup down and reached for the file on Lorek first, not because the others were unworthy, but because Vren’desh had already told her where his instinct had settled. The Vulcan’s record opened across the desk display, service history and commendations arranged in Starfleet’s tidy way, as though a life could be made sensible by chronological order.
“On paper, any of the three could serve,” she said after a moment, eyes moving over the file. “Prenar’s intelligence background would be useful, especially for the sort of work a Sovereign-class vessel tends to find whether it wants to or not. Dartaw has the advantage of practical experience in a politically complicated environment. Empok Nor does not produce officers who are easily startled.”
Her mouth curved faintly there, but the humour did not linger. She scrolled further, reading rather than skimming, taking in the shape of Lorek’s progression from tactical officer to department chief. “But you are right about the complications. Pulling Prenar from the Orcrist would not be simple, and if Captain Rutherford is relying on him, I have no interest in weakening one command to strengthen ours unless there is a clearer need. Empok Nor is another matter entirely. A good officer can still be the wrong officer to move at the wrong time, and from what I have seen of the regional reports, Dartaw may be more valuable where he is.”
She paused on one section of Lorek’s file, reading it twice before glancing up at Vren’desh. “Lorek is interesting. Not because his record is clean. Clean records can hide a lack of pressure as easily as they can show discipline. What interests me is that he appears to have been tested in several different ways and has not tried to make himself into only one thing. Vulcan discipline, Human adaptability, and Klingon martial training is not a common combination, but it may be a useful one here.”
Saelira leaned back slightly, her fingers resting near the edge of the display. “I know Captain Raleth of the Endeavour. Not well enough to call him a friend, but well enough to trust the absence of decoration in his reports. He does not praise officers because it costs him nothing. If he has allowed Lorek to remain in a chief’s post these last years, then Lorek has earned more than a polite transfer note.”
Her gaze returned to the file, thoughtful now. “There is also something to be said for an officer who has had to understand conflict inside himself before being asked to manage it in others. Security and Tactical is not simply weapons, shields, phaser arcs and brig protocols. Not on this ship. It is judgement. It is knowing when strength prevents violence and when it provokes it. Lorek’s background suggests he may understand that distinction better than most.”
She looked back at Vren’desh then, warmth and purpose sitting together in her expression. “Your recommendation carries weight with me, Vren’desh. It always has. But in this case, I agree with it. Prenar and Dartaw are strong candidates, but they each come with a cost to their current commands that I am not convinced we should pay. Lorek gives us experience, stability, and a perspective that may fit the Resolute better than a more obvious choice.”
Saelira tapped the file lightly, not yet finalising it, but clearly moving him to the top of the list. “We should contact the Endeavour before making it formal. I would like Raleth’s candid view, not the version meant for Personnel. If he confirms what the record suggests, then Lorek will be our first choice.”
She took up her cup again, watching Vren’desh over the rim with a small, knowing look. “And I imagine you will want to meet the Vulcan trained by Klingons before deciding whether Starfleet has exaggerated the claim.”
Vren'Desh laughed, it was the belly laugh of a Klingon when they were truly amused. He sipped his coffee as the laugh settled. The laughter was something he rarely did. But, with Saelira he was comfortable to not only be himself, but to be truly Klingon. "You know me well Captain. I may have to challenge this Lorek to combat. Not to the death of course, Starfleet regulations forbid it, alas."
He took up the next PADD. "I think we should tackle Science next. With our Chief transferred, my thinking is to promote from within. Reward honorable service as it were. Lieutenant Piper would of course be the next in line. Clean record, and has always performed their duties without fail. She would be a talented mind to add."
Saelira let the sound of his laugh fill the ready room without interrupting it. There were few things more honest than a Klingon laugh when it arrived unguarded, and fewer still that she found quite so satisfying after two years of watching Vren’desh keep most rooms at arm’s length.
“Alas,” she repeated, dryly, though there was warmth in her eyes. “Starfleet continues to deprive you of simple administrative solutions. I would also prefer not to explain to Personnel that our preferred candidate for Security and Tactical was injured during an informal combat assessment before he had even transferred aboard. It would make finding another Chief Security and Tactical Officer rather more irritating than this process already is.”
She took another drink of the raktajino, and this time the small smile remained a little longer. “But yes, I expected you would want to test him. Perhaps start with a conversation before weapons are involved. It would be good for morale. Mine, if no one else’s.”
Vren'desh nodded in agreement with the Captain's words. This was certainly one of those moments when he had to come to terms with the cultural differences between a Klingon and Starfleet.
When Vren’desh moved them on to Science, Saelira’s expression settled into something more thoughtful. The humour did not vanish, exactly, but it folded itself away into the quieter part of her, the part that remembered Cael sitting in this same room not long ago with tea in his hands and one foot already beyond the ship. His recommendation had carried feeling, but also judgement. She respected both. That did not mean she could afford to confuse affection with certainty.
“Lieutenant Piper is the natural consideration,” Saelira said, drawing the science files closer. “She knows the department, she knows the ship, and she has the advantage of continuity at a time when too much of the crew is changing shape at once. Commander Rennar also spoke well of her before he left. Not carelessly, either. He was careful with that recommendation, which tells me he meant it.”
She glanced down at Melody’s file, then back to Vren’desh. “But a recommendation from a departing chief, even one I trust, cannot be the whole answer. Cael cared about his people. That is one of the reasons he was good at the job. It is also why I have to look at this properly. Wanting someone to have a chance and deciding they are ready to lead a department are not always the same thing.”
Saelira opened another file beside Melody’s, letting the display shift to show a second candidate. “There is also Lieutenant Commander Savaa th’Zharan. Andorian, currently assigned to the USS Tian An Men as Assistant Chief Science Officer. Astrophysics and sensor systems specialist, with command-level bridge certification and several years running multidisciplinary teams on survey operations near the former Romulan border. Her captain describes her as rigorous, direct, and very difficult to intimidate, which I suspect is the polite version of saying she argues well and often.”
There was the faintest lift at the corner of her mouth before she continued. “She has more formal department-level experience than Piper, and if we were making the choice solely by seniority or external record, she would be hard to dismiss. She has led complex studies, managed senior scientists, and apparently kept a science department functioning through three months of intermittent comms failure and supply rationing without losing staff or accuracy. That matters.”
Saelira let both files remain open, side by side. It was easier that way, seeing the choice as it truly was rather than as a foregone conclusion dressed in procedure. “Piper offers continuity, familiarity, and an existing trust with the department. Savaa offers a stronger command record and the clarity of someone coming in without inherited loyalties. Either could be the right answer. Either could be the wrong one if we choose for the wrong reason.”
She leaned back slightly, her hand resting near the edge of Melody’s file. “I am leaning towards giving Piper the opportunity, but not because she is simply next in line. If she is ready, then promoting from within tells the department that service aboard this ship matters, and that we recognise people who have already done the work. It also keeps us from asking Science to absorb a new chief, a new rhythm, and new expectations all at once when the rest of the ship is already adjusting to transfers.”
Her gaze returned to Vren’desh, steady and open to being challenged. That was the point of having him here, after all. Not to nod at her conclusions, but to put a blade against the weak parts and see what bent.
“That said, if you see a reason not to trust the department to Piper, I want to hear it plainly. Not because I expect her to fail, but because this is exactly the sort of decision where familiarity can make a captain generous when she should be precise.”
The Klingon would be happy rewarding loyalty and friendship above all. That was the Klingon way. However, with everything that the Captain had just said, it proved that Vren'Desh had a long list of things to learn before he would be ready to command a starship. Learning was the reason he was here.
"I do not see a reason not to give Piper the job. It would do well for morale on the ship to see some more familiar faces in charge. Additionally, she deserves the chance. Someone like Commander th’Zharan will have their chance. We should look after our own." Vren'Desh spoke with the soul that Klingons had when they spoke of their family and house. In fact that was how he came to think of this ship, and its crew. This was his house now, and he would see that it became one of the great ones. "There you said this would be hard. I think Operations would be next."
A Post By:
Captain Saelira Venn
Commanding Officer
USS Resolute
Commander Vren'desh Son of Rukas
Executive Officer
USS Resolute
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