A Wind in the Woods

Posted on 22 Mar 2016 @ 1:43am by Ambassador Caymen Greener
Edited on on 22 Mar 2016 @ 1:46am

929 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Episode 10 - Symposium
Location: Planet Xatria, Starfleet Headquarters
Timeline: Six Months Ago

Planet Xatria, deep in the woods

The winds were telling - fall was coming, the deciduous trees bore less flesh than the pines, and the chill in the air was more common than not. Even in his mountain retreat, Caymen could tell these things. He had only been retired for seven seasons here on Xatria, but he had had a home here a long time, enough to know these woods like the back of his hand.

The winds were telling - his retirement remained as relaxing as he thought it would be, although lately things hinted at a necessary change. After 20-some years of service, through multiple wars, he deserved it. And yet, when he looked up at the stars, he knew he could not stay in this hovel forever. His passions for space would call him elsewhere. That might be back to his birthplace to live out his days, or perhaps some sight-seeing. But something began to call out to him.

The winds were telling - that day the communique from the Federation came in, the feathered logo as ominous as the cold air, the chime he usually attributed to the occasional news briefing or local Xatrian friend calling somehow sounding different. And he was right.

Fall was coming, a change in his retirement was coming, the call from the young ambassadorial aide from Jupiter Station had come. And little did he know, orders would soon follow because he could never turn down the needs of the Federation or Starfleet. He owed them his life manifold over.


One month later, Earth, Starfleet Headquarters

"We're glad you decided to come back, Mr. Greener." The young aide that had called him that day would be his assistant throughout the process of re-indoctrinating him into the diplomatic arm of the Federation. The Council was truly grateful, and so were his contacts in Starfleet. A few friends remained, although a dear friend Admiral Braak had passed away several years ago. That would have been a good reason enough to return.

"It was time for a change," replied Caymen. It was, in fact, and he was so far enjoying himself. After only a week he was caught up on recent events and current protocols. Old hat for this old man. "Glad to be serving again."

The young man seemed pleased. "You now, we study some of your work in the academy or in the corps. Some of the work you did back with the Romulan Star Empire."

Greener chortled. "Work I tried to do."

The man stopped them in their tracks - they were headed for a briefing that would give Greener a first assignment near Klingon space before his more permanent assignment. They were giving him a trial run - with the Klingons and the Romulans, it would seem. "No, sir, I assure you, the articles are excellent resources for what is to be done in certain scenarios. The Conclave on Rator III back in 2382 I think it was--"

"Began talks in late 2381," interrupted Caymen.

"Yes, the foundation you laid for those peace talks is a huge resource for diplomats like myself." The man smiled and motioned for the two to continue walking. "If I may be so bold, sir."

Caymen just chuckled. "I appreciate the kind words," he said graciously. It was good to hear that his work did not go completely unfounded, ending up in a box of iso chips in a basement.

The next few weeks would be filled with more training and relearning of what he already knew. He sat in on several courses at the academy, went to master classes and minor or remote-cast diplomatic sessions of the Starfleet corps, and helped host a few delegates to the Federation. It felt good to get back in the swing of things, and his mental muscles went right back into action as if 8 years of retirement hadn't happened.


Several months later, Jupiter Sstation, Earth

"Here you go," came the voice with a southern twang in it. One did not hear that accent much anymore, but he sure had a strong one. "Your orders just came in. Starfleet and the Federation, in conjunction, need you to serve, and a certain admiral is takin' you on."

Caymen accepted the datapad and cocked his head after a quick skim. "A Nova class? Isn't that small for a full diplomatic attachment? And isn't that a science vessel?"

"Yes and no," came the reply from his Councilman friend. "This ship, this'n admiral, does a lot more with that there Nova than most commanders do with a small fleet. And you'll be by yerself, representin' Federation interests full on."

Greener's head shot back. This was an interesting scenario, although not all that rare or unprecedented. "The Galileo, eh? A fitting name."

"A fittin' place for a man of your talents, Ambassador Greener."

Caymen looked up from the datapad and shook his head with a smile. "You have a way with words, councillor." He bowed politely and rose to head towards the door. "I shall make plans to depart immediately."

"Oh no need," said the councillor in quick stride. "She's docked right here, ready to go tomorrow."

Greener's eyebrows curled up, his smile remaining. "Even better." He gave a nod, and headed out, datapad in hand, eyeballs on the datapad to read over the details. This would truly be interesting, and even after months of training and an assignment under his belt, he had a lot yet to learn.

The winds had been telling indeed...


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