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Sorehl

Typical Vulcan Brooding

Sorehl stood alone in his office, staring out the viewport.

 

The grey-blue reflected light of Avalon was rotating slowly into view. From here at the Legrange point, the planet was distant enough that he could blot it out with his thumb, but close enough to be resolved as a disk rather than a mere point of light. Not unlike a dream just outside one’s grasp, he mused.

 

He turned away from the view, chiding himself for the introspection.

 

His first duties were to the situation at hand. Admiral Day shouldered the responsibility. Corizon was the tactical scholar. Sorehl was supposed to be the technocrat, the engineer constrained by command duties. But still, he could not escape his own history. He could not keep his mind from considering possibilities – diplomatic, strategic, and tactical. His executive officer Blair had called it “typical Vulcan brooding”.

 

Loss of contact with the Alpha Quadrant left the Allies isolated from support and direction. Added to that, the Dominion refusal to aid them was a fundamental shift in roles in the Gamma Quadrant. The bulk of their fleet had already left Camelot.

 

Ambassador T’Salik was not on the station. Coupled with her assistant’s statement about “state secrets” made it clear the Federation envoy had embarked on a diplomatic mission – but to whom? Sorehl clasped his hands behind his back. It was important T’Salik know about these developments. He trusted Jeralla would have means reach her. He swallowed, thinking of his confrontation with the Cardassian attaché. She was far from the shy Cardassian girl he had known on Aegis. He pushed such thoughts into the tightly-wrapped packages in his well-ordered mind.

 

He needed to meet with Kallah Ramson. The fighter wing would be crucial if Camelot had no place to retreat, as it now seemed. How strange that yet another girl, practically an infant when they last met, would take up residence under his command. The details of the temporal anomaly that had brought her here as an adult remained unclear, but she brought her father’s talent in fighter craft and station defense. Odd that, from his perspective, she was not even as old as he eldest daughter.

 

He moved toward his desk, observing the holoimage of his still-young children. Defense of the civilians on Avalon was his foremost concern. It was clear the Romulans intended to defend their colony. Camelot would offer shelter, but he knew – as at the battles above Canar II – that unless there was a full-scale evacuation ordered, the few Federation citizens would likely remain in their new homes. At his order, the Camelot crew were simultaneously preparing plans to abandon, destroy, or move the station. So much hinged on what their scouts would learn in the next hours.

 

Had the colony on New Bajor been destroyed? Had the Scorpiad begun an invasion of Federation space through the wormhole? Was Avalon the next target?

 

He could not answer these questions, instead relying on other officers to do so. Excalibur was already underway for the wormhole. K’Vorlag and his scout ship should be entering the Idran system in minutes, and the Romulans were still enroute to the Bajoran colony.

 

Sorehl had saved another task for himself.

 

“Commander Blair,” he spoke, tapping his commbadge, “advise the science department that I shall require use of the stellar cartography facility until further notice.”

 

There was a pause before the response. “Your office isn’t big enough for pacing, captain?”

 

“See to it, Mr. Blair,” Sorehl repeated. He stepped through his office's private access to the turbolift. There was little logic in trying to escape his own history. It was time for the Scorpiad to learn how a Vulcan waged war.

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