Star Trek Asalooq Episode One: Arrival With Fanfares

Chapter 2 - Initial Mission

Captain Peña stood on DS9's promenade before one of the many large windows, looking out to the endless number of stars. Ah, the stars. He could not remember ever being bored with this sight. He had nearly continuously dwelt in space for almost forty years, and he had obviously not always gazed in wonderment at those specks of light, but often he had and still did. He could not imagine a life limited to one planet's experiences.

This command tour would be his last, willingly – he needed another two years on active duty before he would join the faculty at Starfleet Academy. Many officers clung to the Captain's seat, and although he did not, Miguel understood them. It was a great task, a great joy and a great adventure to captain a starship. Nothing in his life had been as rewarding – except perhaps to see his children flourish and succeed in building a life for themselves. Command of a starship had been his life's ambition, and he had achieved it. He had no intention of commanding fleets or „flying a desk", and hadn't distinguished himself as a Staff officer as much as he would have had to to go beyond Captain's rank. Heading 2nd Fleet's Science Staff had been sort of fun, but returning to active duty had been a blessing. Now, he was looking for new and different adventures beyond an uncomfortable bridge seat.

Maybe half his life, the more vigorous and active part of it, was almost over. He would savour his last command, enjoy every moment of it, enjoy seeing another collection of young officers grow into a team. That was his strength as a commander – he could bring people together and make them into more than the sum of their parts. Over the years (decades, he reminded himself), Peña had learned how he did that, turning intuition and theoretical insight into a blend of both with a wealth of experience. He had learned to trust his abilities, and he would actively exercise them one last time before retiring to a quieter, steadier life. Most of his grandchildren lived on Earth, and he looked forward to spoiling them with his wife, as his own grandparents had spoiled him all those years ago. In a way, he felt old. Physically, certainly. His last CMO had had to fix a heart condition which, less than 200 years ago, would have killed him by his age. Every now and then, headaches, a result of his injury sustained at Wolf 359, would plague him, but a focused painkiller took them away easily enough. In another way, Miguel Peña did not feel old at all. He had much to see and much to do, and long decades left to do and see it in. But now, it was time to go to work.

Peña walked past the famous Ferengi Casino and Bar and several other businesses on this oddest of Starfleet installations and finally found a turbolift, which took him to the docking ring. He smiled as he stepped aboard the last ship he'd ever „own". From this docking port, the famous class ship of Petrov's type had set out to hunt for Dominion, Cardassian and Breen troops, under the station's legendary erstwhile commander, Benjamin Sisko. Peña knew Ben Sisko from barely remembered Academy days. He had personally put the younger man through some of the symbolic initiation rites ... His smile faded, however, as he remembered the mission he had now. He might well encounter some of the old foes again – not the Dominion, but Cardassians, Breen and even the Borg were not that far from Asalooq, the sector he was headed for. That was another thing he reportedly shared with Ben Sisko – the deep-seated horror left from that dark, dark day at Wolf 359. So many friends lost, so many lives broken ... maybe that had been the day that Starfleet lost its innocence. The fleet in which he was a Captain was a different one from that he had joined as a teenager. It was much larger, much tougher – and so much less scientifically minded that young Miguel, his degree in Comparative Anthropology burning in his pocket, might not have recognised it at all. Peña knew he would quietly lobby for a slow change of direction once he was an Academy professor, but for now, he would have to live with it, and maybe see to it that his little corner of the fleet didn't lose its spirit.

U.S.S. Petrov and her Defiant class shape were a symbol of all that. Named after an Earth officer who had truly, single-handedly saved his species, she was a warship. A super-heavy fighter, like the highly bred destrier warhorses of old. For this mission, to be the Station Ship on Starfleet's first post on its newest member planet, it was not the right type. Peña would have lobbied for a Nova class, perfectly suited, but he knew those were hard to come by. He had learned to pick his battles, bureaucratically as well as tactically.