Saturn Drydock

Dante stared out of the office viewport. He strained to get passed his own reflection to see the ship at first. Beyond. There, nestled in a dry dock, his first command. A California-class Starship. The USS Sherman Oaks. Newly refurbished and reassigned to Task Force 93. He noted several missing panels on the port nacelle and winced in reaction.

Behind him, the doors parted with a soft hiss. Admiral Edwin Rice stepped in, smiling. “Well,” Rice said, “What do you think?”

Dante turned to him from behind the desk. “I’m still not so sure about this. I’ve never really wanted a command.”

Rice chuckled dryly, “I’ve been telling you for years, Dee. It’s time you started thinking about actually making a difference out there.”

Dante turned to his learned colleague with a puzzled expression, “I thought I was?”

Rice gestured for Dante to vacate his seat. Dante stood, and Rice settled into it with a sigh.

Dante sat in the chair across from the desk and waved the misunderstanding off. He leaned back in his chair before saying, “The days haven’t been kind to you, Edwin. You look run down” he said in jest to his friend.

The younger man noted his friend’s weathered ebony skin, the streaks of silver threading through his black hair and his tired amber eyes all told the story fifty-plus years of life and time in Starfleet. But Dante couldn’t help noticing that the man looked more seasoned after his short stint at the Saturn Drydocks than any time he had seen him before.

Rice scoffed. “If you want a pasting at Parrises Squares, I’ll be happy to oblige.”

They both laughed for a short time. Then Rice’s expression shifted, the warmth fading.

“Back to the matter at hand.” He said,  “You’ve done enough at the Academy. And given recent events particularly those regarding Artificial Lifeforms and Intelligences. Starfleet doesn’t think your curriculum …is necessary or,” He cleared his throat, “acceptable,” his eyes focused intently on Dante’s.

Dante didn’t respond but after a short and awkward moment, Rice broke the silence, “Damnit Dee don’t play that Musashi game with me?”

Dante sighed deeply, “You mean where he says if you allow someone to anger you, they control you?” His tone was sharp, almost petty. Then he softened. “Now is when we need …my curriculum. We’re at an even greater threat than before. Didn’t we just suffer a Borg incursion that compromised our computer systems?”

Rice’s voice rose. “I’m not trying to control you. I know you’re angry, but you have to face facts. Your teachings focus on one thing, and that’s the very thing that could divide the Federation even further. The Borg are gone. We know what happened on Mars. It wasn’t the Synths’ fault.”

Dante stood quickly his anger rising, “And the Construct?”

Rice sighed, his voice solemn, “I’m sorry about Ren. But you know as well as I do, it was made by another civilization that targeted us. It didn’t have agency,”

“And what if another civilization tries the same thing, what preparations will be made for that eventuality?” Dante retorted swiftly.

Rice rose from his own chair, “Captain,” he said with a sting, “You’ve done more than enough there. As it is Starfleet Academy has chosen to select a new lecturer on Advanced Tactical Studies and will be downsizing its Counter Division against Artificial/Synthetic Intelligences. In short you are not welcome there at this time.”

When Dante didn’t respond a second time, Rice again broke the silence, “Christ go do something else Dee, many of us pushed this Command for you!” he looked at the chronometer on his desk, “I’ve got to get to another meeting, you have to let go of your fear, Captain Tarek,” Edwin said as he extended his hand.

Dante hesitated; Rice was making sense but the reality of moving on from a lifetime of work felt like stepping off a cliff. He looked past his friend to the ship outside. The Sherman Oaks hung in space, her hull gleaming in Sol’s distant light, surrounded by the skeletal arms of the drydock. He knew Edwin hadn’t the time to stay for further argument so he shook his hand.

When Edwin left, Dante returned his gaze to the Sherman. Thoughts about his losses to AI weighed heavily but as he looked upon her, he felt somewhat at ease. “Maybe this could work,” he thought.