Have a seat [1/6]

Posted on Sat Aug 29th, 2026 @ 4:44pm by Captain Jaro & Lieutenant Commander Riaani ek'Meru

800 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Episode 1: The Fissure
Location: Bridge - Deck 1 - USS Amazônia

On the central viewscreen, the starlight of the Delta Quadrant streaked past in elongated, pale ribbons—a vast, silent canvas of unknown worlds, forgotten civilizations, and uncharted hazards. Jaro sat in his command chair, chin resting lightly against the knuckles of one hand while his fingers tapped a slow rhythm against his armrest. His eyes were fixed on the starlight, though his mind was soaring somewhere much further away.

He was wondering, not for the first time that day, why Starfleet Command had selected the Amazônia—and, by extension, him—to act as host for this exchange of officers. Not that he bemoaned the development in the slightest. Quite the contrary. he delighted in the unexpected; he had built a long, storied career on the whimsical belief that the universe's most splendid revelations occurred precisely when the universe gleefully ripped one's well laid plans to shreds. To welcome a senior officer from a foreign power onto his bridge was a magnificent opportunity to learn, to teach, and to showcase the very best of what the Federation stood for.

And perhaps, Jaro mused with a faint, knowing twitch of his mustache, he had just answered his own question.

After all, for all the perils, anomalies, and terrifying unknowns that a long-term expedition to the Delta Quadrant offered, those dangers almost exclusively existed outside the hull. Inside, life aboard a Starfleet vessel remained remarkably invariant regardless of whether one was floating past Jupiter or skirting the outer rim of the galaxy. The uniforms were the same red, gold, and blue. The rank pips gleamed with identical regulation luster. The corridor lighting dimmed on precisely scheduled night shifts, and the replicators dispensed the exact same hot Earl Grey tea or Cardassian pear nectar whether you were ten lightyears from Earth or ten thousand. A starship was, at its heart, a mobile sanctuary of familiarity—a floating piece of home designed to keep the incomprehensible vastness of space comfortably beyond the viewport.

Now, however, that sanctuary had been “disrupted”.

By replacing their Executive Officer on short notice with a representative of the recently encountered Osha'Thaar Planetary Union, Starfleet had brought the unknown directly inside the hull. Sitting in the seat beside him—or soon to be—was an 'alien'.

Jaro found that term distinctly bizarre when applied to their current situation. In a Federation composed of hundreds of member species, where a Denobulan captain could command a ship alongside a Bajoran science officer, a Bolian doctor, and a Human pilot, the word 'alien' felt delightfully archaic. Yet, in this specific context, it was strangely apt. The Lieutenant Commander was someone who shared none of their foundational Starfleet academy education, who had not sworn allegiance to the Federation Charter, and who would observe their daily routines with a sharp, detached scrutiny before reporting her findings back to her high command.

Jaro could completely understand the hesitation surrounding such a arrangement. It wasn't just other captains who preferred their floating sanctuaries to remain undisturbed; he had seen that same sharp, protective skepticism firsthand in his own senior officers, most notably during his recent conversation with Lieutenant Khatri in Astrometrics. And he certainly didn't blame them. To hand an unvetted representative from an unknown power the keys to the second-most authoritative position on the ship was a daunting prospect.

Yet, where others saw a security complication, Jaro felt the quiet, familiar thrill of a diplomat standing on the edge of a new frontier. His years in the Diplomatic Corps had left him with an insatiable appetite for getting up close and personal with unfamiliar cultures—not through sterile sensor scans, but across a shared table over dinner. There was simply too much to gain from this exchange to let fear dictate terms. If this partnership succeeded, it could lay the foundation for a lasting alliance in a quadrant where Starfleet was entirely alone. He was determined to give it every conceivable chance to flourish.

He recalled a similar exchange nearly forty years ago during his diplomatic days—a remarkably guarded Romulan observer during a fragile border conference who had spent her first three weeks suspecting that replicated camomille tea was a calculated attempt at sedation. By the time the exchange concluded three months later, she had departed with a crate of genuine Earth tea and an unexpected, genuine appreciation for Andorian choral music. True understanding was never forged in sanitized diplomatic chambers; it was achieved in the quiet, mundane, and occasionally messy realities of sharing a home.

Just as his thoughts began to drift towards the shuttlecraft their exchange officer had arrived in, the pneumatic swish of the bridge’s turbolift doors echoed softly, as the curved panels slid open.

[TBC]

Captain Jaro
Captain
USS Amazonia

Lt. Commander Riaani ek'Meru
On-loan Executive Officer
USS Amazônia

 

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