Prologue

[STSF Corizon 0]

Captain Irae Varen sat calmly aboard the bridge of the Excalibur, reading over the latest reports from Central Command on the sector they were being dispatched too in a few short hours. It had occurred to him that this would be the first real test of the Excalibur under his command, and that Central Command would be watching him closely.

 

He sighed and leaned into the command chair and put the PADD down on his lap. At least everything had gone smoothly so far. The repairs and maintenance was ahead of schedule. Crew rotations had been smoother than expected and the last vestiges of supplies were being moved aboard.

 

The routine Internal Affairs inspection and audit hadn't even been that painful. Which, of course, was why he a twinge in the back of his head that something was going to come out of left field and ruin his spotless career. In deed, as an off-worlder, he'd worked twice as hard to get noticed by the Earth-centric Central Command. To wit, he'd worked his way up from Ensign by being a cold, efficient machine of Imperial Doctrine; and as Captain, he'd spent the last three months cleaning up the mess left by the former Captain, a weak-willed idiot who'd been careless with letting slaves escape.

 

Varen's concern didn't show on his solid features. His dark, slicked-back hair contrasted sharply with his light, milky complexion and light blue eyes. The subtle signs of age seemed lost among his clean, rock-solid jaw line and muscular physique. Like all Imperial Officers, his black gloves were of soft, supple leather and he ran them over the console with a slight, nervous energy.

 

Tapping his fingers anxiously, he looked towards the helm officer, a bright-eyed human from Australia, and then onto his Executive Officer, Kiera Najon. She'd always impressed Varen; for an alien she was surprisingly gorgeous, efficient, and deadly. He'd initially resisted having an alien, even if she were a Bajoran, as his XO—he didn't care what they said, aliens couldn't be trusted—but she'd slowly started to gain his trust and respect.

 

“How long till we're ready to go, Commander.”

 

Without hesitation or a second glance to her console for the information, the blonde haired Bajoran responded. “Three hours, Captain. We're just finishing bringing the last of the supplies we're supposed to deliver to the prison on Cetan III.”

 

“Excellent,” he said. “Though, I wish that our first stop wasn't a prison.”

 

Tipping her head, Najon measured her tone carefully. “Afraid you'll get too excited at the sight of Imperial Oppression at work?”

 

Varen smiled, though only slightly. “I'd prefer,” he said with a gesture, “to get to the real work of our mission.”

 

“Of course,” Najon said with small satisfaction at cracking the Captain's steely demeanor. “You know what they say though... all work and no play...”

 

Snorting Varen took an offered PADD from a tall, slender, dark brown haired human female he didn't completely recognize. She had a subtle grace about her, and she smiled lightly when the Captain commented on such.

 

“Why thank you Captain,” the woman, dressed in the uniform of a yeoman said before nodding her head slightly and heading off the bridge.

 

A bit of mirth in his voice, he looked over to Najon once the yeoman had exited from the bridge. “Speaking of play,” he said with a grin, “who's the new yeoman?”

 

Najon held back a full smirk, Captain's prerogative after all. “Joy something or other...”

 

“Joy, huh? Ironic."