A Squadron

Posted on Thu Sep 25th, 2025 @ 7:04am by Major Marcus Ming & Rear Admiral Rebecca Talon

1,633 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Mission 9: When the Stars Went Silent
Location: USS Denver - Admiral Talon's Office
Timeline: July 5, 2375 ~ 2 months after the Battle of Vulcan

Admiral Rebecca Talon stood in the former diplomatic suite, staring out across the Sol System through floor-to-ceiling windows. Beyond the glass, Federation starships drifted across a velvet backdrop pricked with a billion pinpoints of light. Her gaze lingered on one. It was a soft orange and slightly brighter and larger than the others.

Utopia Planitia.

Somewhere on that distant ember, men and women toiled day and night, assembling starships as fast as the yards could produce them. The last effort. The last hope. Somewhere deep in her mind, she knew it was futile. The war was over. The Dominion had won. And the existence of Operation Noah’s Ark was a quiet admission of that failure.

Rebecca sank into her chair and rested the mug of black coffee against her thigh. The heat seeped through the porcelain and into her fingers, grounding her. Usually, the rich, bitter aroma brought comfort.

She thought of early mornings on the back patio of their Colorado home, wrapped in a blanket as the sun broke over the pines. Or late nights in their quarters aboard ship, after the children were asleep—she and Milo curled up on the couch, talking about their day, politics, or whatever topic had wandered into the room with them. Those moments felt a lifetime away.

“Son of a bitch,” she muttered.

Bee-boop!

The chime startled her from her thoughts. She turned toward the door and set the mug gently onto her desk. The sound of ceramic meeting polished wood was soft but final.

“Enter.”

Marcus tentatively entered and approached the desk. He casually closed the distance and stopped at a suitable distance. After a moment, a smile crossed his lips and he said, "Damn, Rebecca. That Admiralty look suits you well. That's for damned sure, boss. Congratulations hardly seems to cover it. I am genuinely happy and proud of you, if I may say so."

Rebecca leaned back, lifting her coffee and cradling it between both hands. She took a slow sip, letting the bitter sting settle on her tongue before speaking. “Pretty sure it’s more curse than honor,” she muttered. Another sip. A shrug. “Yup. Definitely a curse. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy."

Ming suppressed a smile. He thought similarly once he took command of the Knights. He said out loud, "Maybe. But if I were to pick someone to do more good with framed pips, I'd pick you. The extra paperwork can be a pain in the ass with any new promotion, but the extra authority gives you more chances to do good. It's no flattery when I say that you're one of, if not the best, CO I've had to date."

"You may want to withhold that judgment until after this meeting." She leaned forward and pushed her coffee tray in Marcus' direction. With a heavy sigh, she stood and leaned against the panoramic window frame, crossed her legs, and stared into space.

Marcus's eyes narrowed for a moment before asking, "I am almost afraid to ask.....I'll bite though."

"You are being removed from command of the Knights. You had to know this was coming. You don't command a flight as a Major. Starfleet Command has established the 401st Tactical Wing as part of its expansion of fighter operations. The 401st is a joint task force command, and you have been tagged to command one of the new squadrons, the 423rd Fighter Squadron."

The Major stood mute for a moment, at a total loss for words. He only spoke when he was mostly sure he wasn't going to put his foot in his mouth. His voice was a touch softer than usual as he said, "Yeah, I guess part of me was wondering when the other shoe would drop. The Denver and the Knights have been the majority of my corner of the war for a while, so it wasn't quite at the forefront of my mind. Sure, I passively wondered from time to time, but did I think about it seriously? Not as much as I apparently should have. If I seem a bit surprised, that is why."

He sighed, "Don't get me wrong. I am glad to have new opportunities. Guess the next question is how does that play out from here?"

“We’ll take three flights aboard the Denver, and the Saratoga will handle the fourth,” Rebecca replied. “Honestly, it won’t be much of a change for you. You’ve already been running the Knights like a squadron. Instead of four or five ships, you'll be managing twelve, maybe fifteen. You’ll want to check with your chain of command on the final formation size.”

Marcus listened intently as the admiral spoke. After mulling it over for a second, he said, "That doesn't sound so bad so far. You mentioned my chain of command. Will I still report to you directly, as I pretty much have been, or will the arrangements on that end change?"

"For now, it's your Wing commander, but once we leave, we will be on detached service and you will report directly to me and coordinate your operations with Captain Nalim."

Marcus looked thoughtful once again, actually taking a moment to rub his eyes, but nodded more assuredly after a moment passed. He said, "Well, if I had any doubts, the Vulcan operation proved I can handle it. Our small craft, like the full-sized vessels, took a hell of a beating, but we did a bit better. A good number of our fighters came back, while virtually none of theirs did. Hopefully, the captured information we got shortly after that battle will be as useful as I think it will be."

Without thinking bout it, Ming winced and touched his left shoulder with his right hand, then moved it a bit. He realized what he was doing and adjusted himself back to normal, pretending it didn't happen.

"Are you well, Major?" Rebecca asked.

“I’ll be ok. Sparred with Amara earlier. First time in a while, and he reminded me how fast the man is. Big guys can move fast. Who knew?” Ming said lightly.

He added, “If I’m still having issues after I get some rest, I’ll stop into sickbay. I’d been meaning to talk to the doctor anyhow.”

"See that you do," Rebecca said. "Any questions?"

Marcus thought it over for a brief moment. He said, "Not at the moment. I'll be requesting rosters and service records first thing but I will route that to squadron leadership. Figuring that I will need to set up the COC within our little corner in the war sooner versus later. I will be CCing you the information once I get everything together and decided so that you are informed. I want you to have the details but I don't want to be slamming you with pieces of information. I figure you have enough to juggle as it is. I am a firm believer in working smarther rather than harder whenever feasible."

Ming finished the sentiment with a slight smile indicating a light heartedness. Sometimes light hearted levity could lighten a mood.

"I appreciate it, but right now we're in a bit of a slow phase. We're waiting on the construction crews to finish the refits on the Texarkana, and Commander Blake is finishing up reviewing the colonists. We should be starting to board them next week."

"Commander Blake? Good for her. By all appearances she earned it. Anyway I am working on putting together a bit of a shindig. Nothing too wild but with that intel run bearing some fruit and a few recent promotions it feels warranted. Cocktails, a little food and good company. Thoughts," Ming ventured.

Rebecca shrugged, "Every little bit will help the war effort, but make it quick. We could be leaving at any moment... and if we are attacked, we are departing earlier than expected."

Marcus smiled and said, "Tomorrow....Noon to 1900 for any inclined personnel not otherwise on duty sound soon enough?"

Rebecca nodded and smiled at Ming, "That'll do, just don't get yourself killed out there. I need you, and I don't need another letter to write home. That's an order."

Ming smiled with a mix of warmth and sadness for a moment before saying, "One of the things that this war has taught me is that I cannot promise that. I will promise that I will do everything in my power to execute that order though. I'll even fight dirty if I have too. If it means coming back to my Starfleet family and my family back home you'd better believe that."

"See that you do," Rebecca quipped. "I don't have a necromancer on retainer to bring you back to put up on charges, but I will find one." She straightened her back in formality. "Is there anything else Major?"

Ming fixed Rebecca with a smile and said, "Why yes. You have gotten the first invitation to my little gathering. Will I see you there? I am thinking Holodeck 3."

Rebecca gave him a polite smile, "Major, I appreciate the offer... perhaps next time."

Marcus nodded, "Of course, the invitation will be open should you change your mind. Aside from that, I got nothing else for the moment."

Rebecca nodded, offered him a polite smile, "Dismissed."

Marcus straightened up in a not quite "attention" stance before nodding and fixing Rebecca with a smile before turning and heading for the door. This was turning out to be one hell of a day.

"Oh, and Major," she called as he was at the parting door, the hiss and the outer corridor flooding in, "Good luck."

Marcus nodded and said, "Yes, ma'am," before leaving the ready room. He was smiling all the way back to his quarters.

 

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