The Face of Death

[Chirakis 1]

The Face of Death
Chirakis Kirel, Captain, SI-5

Kirel had been standing amidships in Command and Control, watching every move, listening to every communication, scrutinizing every message… and waiting.  Waiting was cruel, ruthless, sadistic, and any number of epithets she could think of.  She had faced death many times and counted it as nothing.  But knowing that the crews of Argos, Shuttle Warren, and the Nei’rrh had faced death was beyond her ability to cope.  She was especially concerned about the children.

Her thoughts trailed off, only then realizing the physical and emotional toll the mission had taken on the entire crew.  She sighed and checked the chronograph, then began:

“Computer, open Commanding Officer’s report, Sky Harbor Aegis, Stardate 2388.127, Chirakis Kirel, Captain, SI-5 in command,” she began aloud.  “The time is 1800 hours Aegis local. First rotation Alpha watch has been in Command and Control for 34 hours.  First rotation Alpha watch is relieved.  Third rotation Bravo watch will replace them in the morning.”  She turned to face the crew.  “First rotation Alpha watch will not return until they are fully rested. End Commanding Officer’s report.”

They moved out in silence—some in relief and some in exhaustion.  “Commander Kital,” said Kirel quietly as she passed.  “Take all the time you need.  Do not return until you are ready.”  Jylliene nodded, then moved on.  

First watch rotation Charlie appeared and took their stations.  Kirel remained, still stunned from the last 34 hours.  For her, rest was not an option until Captain Kelley of USS Iowa reported all present and accounted for.  Knowing that personnel, especially children, had been in danger and possibly close to death was devastating enough.  Being unable to help was overwhelming.  Facing an indomitable foe, facing death herself, she could handle. Watching children die?  That she could not fathom.

“Captain?” said a maintenance engineer beside her. “Permission to arrange your office?”

“Of course,” she replied. “Take care in packing Captain Ramson’s possessions.  I am sure she left forwarding orders.”

“No, ma’am.  She did not.”

“Then secure them in her quarters until further instructions.”

With that, she stepped to the command chair, put aside the burden it represents, and settled in.  The anxiety remained until several hours later when the engineers pronounced her office ready.

Not long after, she was asleep in her chair.  In the office. With her back to a wall display of daggers, knives, and assorted other weapons—trophies from those who should not have messed with her.  They were gone.  They would not mess with her again.