Post Number 317: Temporary assignment

Posted on Thu Jun 18th, 2026 @ 7:17pm by First Star Admiral Dakota Olvera & Lieutenant Josiah Haines

1,340 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: A New Beginning
Location: Ocampa 5

Ocampa Five was rich in oceans and plant life. Fields of green luxiorous grass could be seen, as well as the starting of crops being planted. The oceans were a sparkling sea green,mixed with an aquarmine blue that left one wanting to take a trip and walk the beaches or go swimmming in the cool water. It was the opposite of what it had been months before. Once they had chosen this planet for their headquarters, they had seeded it to make it habitable for all who would live there.

Admiral Dakota Olvera stood before a massive, floor-to-ceiling transparent aluminum window, her hands clasped loosely behind her back. At fifty seven, Dakota carried herself with the sharp, unyielding posture of a lifelong tactical officer. Her vibrant red hair, threaded with elegant streaks of brown at the temples, was pulled back into a severe, regulation bun. Her uniform was immaculate, the gold piping of a Commander-in-Chief catching the ambient light of the tactical displays humming around her.

Ocampa 5 had been their best hope for a future. Dakota had been relieved when the Ocampan people had agreed to go onto Starbase Obsidian, while the planet had been reseeded. It had been a new start for all of them. Once the reseeding had been complete the Ocampan people had settled on the Northern Continent that they now called Korrathis. The Admiralty had been pleased when some of them had stayed and joined Starfleet. It was truly bringing their people together, to show unity.

A soft chime interrupted her thoughts.

"Enter," Dakota said, her voice a rich, authoritative voice.

The doors parted with a hydraulic hiss, and Lieutenant Josiah Haines stepped into the office. He snapped an crisp, textbook salute, his posture rigid. "Lieutenant Haines reporting for duty, Admiral."

Dakota turned, a faint, welcoming smile breaking the stern lines of her face. She returned the salute with a brief nod. "At ease, Lieutenant. Please, have a seat."

Josiah relaxed slightly, taking a seat in one of the sleek, functional chairs across from her desk. As the Chief Tactical Officer of Starbase Obsidian, Josiah was a man used to the cold, structured metal of deep-space stations. Coming down to the dusty, subterranean tunnels of Ocampa 5 was a deliberate choice—one he had explicitly volunteered for.

"I must admit, Lieutenant," Dakota began, rounding her desk and sitting down, "when your temporary transfer request crossed my padd, I was surprised. Starbase Obsidian is a premier posting, and you’re their Chief Tactical Officer. Why volunteer to come down here where you will be overworked and more than likely wish you could change your mind?”

Josiah met her gaze squarely. "With all due respect, Admiral, Starbase Obsidian is secure. Ocampa five is not. You and the command staff are building the future of Starfleet from the ground up here, and that makes this planet the biggest target in the quadrant. I wanted to ensure the environment you are operating in remains entirely safe. You can't lead if you're constantly looking over your shoulder."

Dakota looked at him for a long moment, appreciative of the stark honesty. "A fair point, Lieutenant. And frankly, your timing is impeccable. We are currently operating on a skeleton crew, and the security grid is far from secure. Which brings us to your duties."

She tapped her desk interface, transferring a data file to Josiah’s personal padd.

"Your primary responsibility will be twofold," Dakota explained, her tone shifting seamlessly into command mode. "First, you are going to supervise the setup of the entire security perimeter for the command staff. That means sensor arrays, defensive shielding, and emergency evacuation routes. I want this subterranean complex locked down so tightly that not even a stray tachyon beam gets through without a clearance code."

"Consider it done, Admiral," Josiah replied, nodding as he skimmed the schematics.

"Second, and perhaps more tedious but equally vital," Dakota continued, "you will be vetting anyone and everyone who wants to meet with the command staff. I don’t care if they are a high-ranking Federation ambassador, a freighter captain delivering rations, or a fellow Starfleet officer. Every single person goes through your screening process before they set foot in this wing. You are the gatekeeper, Lieutenant. If your gut tells you something is off, the meeting doesn't happen."

Josiah locked eyes with her, the gravity of the assignment settling on his shoulders. "I understand completely, Admiral. No one gets to you or the staff without my personal stamp of approval."

"Good." Dakota leaned back in her chair, the rigid posture of the Commander-in-Chief melting away to reveal something warmer, more human. The official briefing was over. "Now, onto more important matters."

A genuine smile broke across her face, softening the sharp contours of her eyes. "How is that stubborn brother of yours doing?"

Josiah couldn't help but smile back. The transition from terrifying superior officer to an old family friend was seamless. He knew there was a solid, fiercely loyal friendship between Dakota and his brother, Jordan. They had known each other a long time, surviving situations that forged an unbreakable bond, so strong that the Admiral had stepped in a couple times and fought for him to stay within Starfleet.

"Jordan is as relentless as ever, Admiral," Josiah said, a fond chuckle escaping him. "Though, to be honest, I barely see him these days. Between my duties here and his role as First Officer of Starbase Obsidian, he’s been buried in work. Ensuring everything runs smoothly up there with all the recent changes has kept him on his toes. He’s practically living on the bridge."

"I don't doubt it. Jordan always did thrive under a mountain of pressure," Dakota mused, a nostalgic glint in her eyes. "But he never did know when to take a breath."

"Well, he’s finally found a reason to take one," Josiah said, his smile widening. "You might want to sit down for this, Admiral, but Jordan—the self-professed, eternal bachelor—actually has a girlfriend."

Dakota raised her eyebrows in genuine shock, a rare laugh escaping her lips. "Jordan? The man who claimed his only true love was a Type-14 shuttlecraft? You're joking."

"I swear on the Prime Directive, it's true," Josiah laughed. "Her name is Charlotte. She serves on Starbase Obsidian and I recommend instead of looking her up on the database, you invite them to dinner one night and meet her for yourself. I don’t know how she did it, but she managed to break through that titanium shell of his. It’s been really good to see him no longer a loner. For the longest time, I worried he’d just grow old with nothing but a phaser rifle and a bottle of Saurian brandy for company."

Dakota smiled softly, her heart warmed by the news. "That is wonderful to hear, Josiah. He deserves some peace."

"Don't get me wrong, he’s still Jordan," Josiah added with a smirk, standing up as he prepared to take his leave. "He’ll always be a bit wild and rough around the edges. I don't think any civilian, no matter how brilliant, can entirely tame him."

"I wouldn't want him any other way," Dakota said, rising from her chair to join him. "A polished Jordan Haines just wouldn't feel right."

She stepped around the desk and extended her hand. It was a gesture of profound respect, bridging the gap between old family ties and their current roles in a unfolding future. "Thank you for volunteering for this, Josiah. I sleep a little easier knowing a Haines is watching the door."

Josiah took her hand, his grip firm and resolute. "It’s an honor, Admiral. I won’t let you down."

Releasing her hand, Josiah stepped back, delivered a final, respectful nod, and turned on his heel. The doors to the office slid open, and he walked out into the bustling, dusty corridors of Ocampa Headquarters, ready to execute the orders she had given him and secure the future of Starfleet.

 

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