Archer sat back on his chair contemplating the events that had just transpired. He is 4 days into his command and in that time, he has not only experienced the perils of this career but the political undercurrents, and to be honest, it seemed exhausting.
He proceeded to press his console and speak into it:
"Peters, prepare a shuttle to the Charger." He then turned to Klimt who was similarly leaning back on her chair and spoke:
"Klimt, you have command while am gone. Run a thorough diagnostic and inventory of weapons and fuel and request anything we need from the Charger while we have them here."
Klimt swiveled her chair back and responded:
"Yes sir. The report will be ready within the hour."
Archer nodded and then walked towards the exit of the bridge towards the shuttle bays in the back of the Lietinna. Peter was already standing next to the shuttle bay doors with another black uniformed soldier talking animatedly.
They both snapped to attention as they noticed Archer causing him to smile bitterly as he spoke while reaching out to pat him on the shoulder:
"Peters, thanks for setting this up. And who is this?
"Reporting Sir, I am Spaceman Joles."
Archer reached out to shake his hand and spoke in a friendly tone:
"Nice to meet you Joles. I hope things were not too rough back here during maneuvers."
"Not at all sir. It was like riding on a cloud."
"Haha," Archer chuckled at the response that was reminiscent of how his brother spoke. He spoke as he walked into the shuttle bay while speaking:
"Good. We on the bridge always aim for the comfort and satisfaction of our passengers, am glad we managed to do so."
Both Peters and Joles chuckled at the uncharacteristic response from their commanding officer. The seriousness of the situation they were in was not lost on them, but comedy and humor have always been a great method of relief in situations like this.
Archer settled into the shuttle, the familiar hum of its engines a comforting presence as they prepared for departure. Peters and Joles took their respective seats and proceeded with the launch procedures.
"Bridge. Shuttle 1 requesting permission to launch, Captain on board."
"Shuttle 1, Approved."
As they lifted off from the Lietinna, Archer's thoughts drifted back to the events that had transpired in the past few days. The weight of command pressed heavily on his shoulders, the responsibility for his crew's safety a constant burden. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, there was a glimmer of determination in his heart. He would see this mission through, no matter the cost.
The journey to the Charger passed in relative silence, the hum of the shuttle's engines filling the cramped space with a steady rhythm. Archer stole occasional glances at Peters and Joles, their demeanor calm and collected despite the gravity of their recent situation.
As they approached the Charger, Archer couldn't help but marvel at the sheer size of the ship. Compared to the Lietinna, it was a behemoth, its sleek hull stretching out before them like a cityscape against the backdrop of space. Archer couldn't help but feel a pang of envy as they docked with the massive vessel, its numerous hallways and corridors visible from the port holes on its side set a stark contrast to the cramped confines of his ship.
Exiting the shuttle, Archer led Peters and Joles through the maze of corridors that made up the Charger's interior. The air was filled with a sense of purpose, the crew bustling about their duties with efficiency and precision.
Arriving at Commander Fauls' command room, Archer couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension that gnawed at him. Fauls awaited them, his expression unreadable as Archer approached.
Archer pressed the ring button as Peters and Joles stood at parade rest to the side.
"Enter." Came a voice from the command room as the door opened.
"Commander Fauls," Archer greeted, his voice tinged with some wariness.
"Lieutenant," Fauls replied, his tone clipped and businesslike. "Please join us."
Archer nodded as he surveyed the room with a quick glance, noticing both Lt. Commander Naimes and Lt. Commander Strine were sitting across from Fauls. his mind already turning to the debriefing that awaited them.
"Yes, sir. "
Fauls nodded, his gaze piercing as he studied Archer. "Good. We have much to discuss. But first, I want to commend you for your actions in the field. You've shown courage and determination in the face of adversity, qualities that will serve you well in the days to come."
Archer felt a swell of wariness at Fauls' words, his chest swelling with a sense of accomplishment that he immediately pushed back and focused on responding as evenly as possible.
"Thank you, sir. I only did what was necessary to ensure the safety of my crew."
Fauls nodded, a hint of something unknown in his eyes. "Indeed. But there is still much work to be done. We must gather as much information as we can about our enemies and their motives. Only then can we hope to formulate a proper response. And the loss of the Romme will be felt by our entire Wing."
Archer nodded, his mind already racing with possibilities. Strine who was looking down at a console in his hand spoke up:
"The mission is also incomplete."
This elicited a snort from Lt. Commander Naimes that did not escape Archer's notice.
Fauls smiled and spoke in what could be described as nonchalantly, but Archer took as more dismissive.
"I know. Now, let's get down to business. Our wing will hold here for 4 days and wait for the 7th fleet 4th and 8th combat wings to arrive before heading out to track down that assailant and secure the LNS Matril. The Tame and Lietinna need urgent repairs, so head to League Port one to get repairs and rush back here for the operation."
Archer felt a lump in his throat as he felt something was off, but Commander Fauls simply continued speaking:
"This will titled Operation Sunder and will be headed by the 7th Fleet's second Strike group. The objective is to secure the LNS Matril, engage the assailants that attacked our ships and destroyed the Romme and figure out who is behind them."
As Fauls outlined the plan, Archer couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. The mention of assembling three entire wings for a mission seemed excessive, even for a situation as dire as they experienced. He exchanged a glance with Naimes, but her expression revealed nothing aside from a glint of viciousness.
"Commander Fauls," Archer interjected, his tone measured but curious. "Forgive me for asking, but why are three entire wings being assembled for this mission? It seems... unusual."
Fauls' gaze hardened, a flicker of irritation passing across his features before he schooled his expression into one of neutrality.
"The situation requires a coordinated response, Lieutenant. We cannot afford to take any chances, especially with our enemies still at large."
Archer nodded, though his skepticism remained. Something about Fauls' explanation didn't sit right with him, as far as he was concerned, an entire strike group is composed of a minimum of 30 ships. But he knew better than to press the matter further. Instead, he filed the information away for later consideration, his mind already racing with possibilities.
"Understood, sir," Archer replied, his voice tinged with resignation. "We'll make the necessary preparations and depart for League Port One as soon as possible."
Fauls nodded, his attention already turning to the next item on his agenda. "Very well. Dismissed."
As Archer turned to leave, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Fauls' plan than met the eye. But for now, all he could do was follow orders and trust in his instincts. The days ahead would be fraught with danger and uncertainty, but he would face them head-on, with courage and resolve.
Both Archer and Naimes walked out of the command room together and walked away in silence followed by Peters and Joles and another black uniformed soldier. As soon as they were some distance away from the command room, Archer spoke up:
"What do you think Lt. Commander?"
Lt. Commander Naimes shot him a sidelong glance before snorting in agitation and speaking:
"You think too much Lieutenant and you talk too much."
Here agitation caught him by surprise, but he simply continued speaking:
"Am Sorry about Lt. Commander Esmer, It sounded like you two were close."
Naimes' steps halted as she turned fully to Archer and spoke in a grating voice unlike her usual tone:
"Listen, Lieutenant, Lt. Commander Esmer is dead, he wasn't the first officer to die a meaningless death and he won't be the last. I recommend you stop with your fake pleasantries and figure out a way to not end up like him."
Archer simply scoffed at her words and spoke in a dismissive tone:
"Spare me the theatrics Lt. Commander. If it was up to you, we would all be dead in space, so forgive me if I don't care about your concern. I can't help shaking the feeling that there is something you know and that whatever it is led to the destruction of the Romme. If that is the case, you need to not project at me."
Lt. Commander Naimes pauses, and Archer notices a wary look flashing through her eyes. She stared at him for a few seconds before sighing and resuming her walking while speaking with a sigh:
"Listen Lieutenant. A few of us combat officers throughout the 7th fleet have noticed an odd uptick In sudden seemingly benign missions turning deadly at the drop of a hat. Some of my acquaintances on the 5th and 8th Fleets are noticing the same thing. I don't know what's going on, but whatever it is, it's griding officers of our rank down and we have no choice but to play along until something makes its way down the shit vine."
Archer frowned at her words as numerous thoughts ran through his head, but he kept quiet as Naimes continued speaking:
"Whatever it is that has been happening, it's heading to a boiling point now that a strike group is mobilizing. Do with that information what you will lieutenant, but what I said holds, make sure you don't end up like those before you."