Admiral Nechayev paced restlessly across the floor. Her thoughts were light-years away from Starbase 310 and the world it circled, as she pondered her options. She paused before the holo-painting that occupied the entire wall of her office. Waves swept across the lavender sea of the image, as stormy as the emotions hidden beneath her wintery, set expression.

Her desk communicator chimed.

“Nechayev here,” she enunciated crisply, still staring at the holo-painting.

“Admiral.” It was her aide-de-camp. “The Sutherland has arrived. Captain Shelby is awaiting your orders.”

“Excellent.” Ruthlessly, she buried her doubts. “Inform the captain I’ll be aboard in five minutes, and I’ll explain the mission then. Have my duffel beamed aboard at once.”

“Yes, Admiral.”