#1x02 - The Logical Choice
Posted on Tue Feb 17th, 2026 @ 5:39pm by Commander Simone Langford & Fleet Captain Tuvok
Edited on on Tue Feb 17th, 2026 @ 6:12pm
1,668 words; about a 8 minute read
Mission:
The Forgotten Outpost
Location: Starbase 417
Timeline: 2401-09-05, 09:30
Summary: Commander Simone Langford is summoned to Starbase 417, where Fleet Captain Tuvok assigns her to command Outpost Theta-9 near the Azure Nebula, citing her diplomatic expertise and personal history with the volatile Venteris Corporation. As she reviews her new crew - including former colleagues like XO Vannon Dacour and counselor Stephen Jacobs - Simone recognizes Starfleet has deliberately woven her past into this assignment, leveraging her connections for strategic advantage. Tuvok subtly warns her that post-Frontier Day resource shortages could lead to abrupt redeployments, leaving Simone to grapple with the weight of command, the ghosts of her family’s legacy, and the precarious balance between duty and the unstable frontier ahead.
= Starbase 417 – Conference Room Gamma =
The transporter pad dissolved behind her, but the scent of Starbase 417 - cool, dry, precise - seemed to settle over Simone Langford like a uniform itself. She adjusted her actual uniform at the collar and tucked away a stray strand of red hair with unconscious precision, eyes scanning the polished deck, the unfamiliar patterns of a station she’d only passed through in briefings and orders.
A junior officer approached with a padd held neatly between both hands. “Commander Langford, Fleet Captain Tuvok is expecting you. Conference Room Gamma, Deck Seven.”
No further explanation was necessary.
The corridors of Starbase 417 were wide and bright, lined with glass and brushed steel. Simone walked them with the measured pace of someone long used to such summons. But beneath the calm, something stirred - a quiet knowing. Her commanding officer, Captain Issey Hasegawa, had been more than gracious when their last diplomatic mission wrapped, offering her a private nod that felt just a little too much like a farewell.
"Change is coming, Simone," Hasegawa had said as they stood side by side in the Vespertine's observation lounge, stars gliding past. "Be ready for it."
Now here it was.
She entered the conference room to find Fleet Captain Tuvok standing at the window, hands clasped behind his back in that characteristically Vulcan posture of contemplative readiness. He turned as the doors closed behind her, his expression unreadable as ever.
“Commander Langford,” he said without flourish. “Please be seated.”
She did so, folding one leg over the other with a composure that masked the quiet thrum building beneath her ribcage. His presence still had that effect - an unshakable calm that made silence feel heavier than words.
“You have served with distinction aboard the U.S.S. Vespertine under Captain Hasegawa,” Tuvok began. “Your evaluations have consistently demonstrated sound judgment, cultural fluency, and an ability to lead in complex diplomatic environments.”
Simone inclined her head politely, though inwardly she braced herself. This wasn’t a performance review.
“You are being reassigned,” Tuvok continued, passing her a new padd. “Effective immediately, you are to assume command of Outpost Theta-9.”
Her heart gave a slow, deliberate thud. She scanned the padd: Commanding Officer Assignment, Arendis Prime – Outpost Theta-9.
Simone looked up, brows slightly lifted. “May I ask why, sir?”
“There are multiple factors. Your diplomatic background is essential to the outpost’s mission parameters - particularly in maintaining relations with Romulan populations and navigating tensions with the Venteris Corporation. But equally important is your personal history with the region.”
She didn’t need to ask what he meant. “Venteris.”
Tuvok nodded once. “Starfleet Intelligence considers the Corporation’s regional activity to be of growing concern. You understand their culture, their tactics. And you will not be easily manipulated by their overtures.”
She leaned back slightly, lips pressed together in thought. Her family name still carried weight on Venteris Prime - somewhere between legacy and liability. She’d spent her life walking that knife’s edge. And now Starfleet wanted her to walk it again.
“You mentioned my diplomatic experience,” she said, deflecting from the emotional undercurrent. “But this isn’t just diplomacy. It’s a command.”
“It is. And based on your performance as Executive Officer aboard the Vespertine, and your prior experience in conflict mediation, you are—” a pause, the faintest shift in cadence, “the logical choice.”
A corner of Simone’s mouth twitched - whether in humour or unease, even she wasn’t sure. She turned her attention back to the padd, skimming the manifest. Some names jumped out immediately: Lieutenant Commander Vannon Dacour – Executive Officer.
“Vannon?” she murmured aloud.
Tuvok nodded. “Commander Dacour has spent the past nine years in the Romulan frontier, most recently aboard the USS Moonraker as Strategic Operations Officer. His knowledge of the Azure Nebula region is considerable. He is tactically adept, and his record of crew cohesion and morale-building made him a strong candidate for Executive Officer.”
Simone smiled slightly, the years slipping back in memory. “He was a teenager on the Heyerdahl-A... always sneaking into the stellar cartography bay. Obsessed with old battle maps and star routes. His mother - Commander Anra Dacour then - was XO.”
“Now Vice Admiral,” Tuvok said with the faintest acknowledgment of irony. “Her son’s record indicates he has inherited her capacity for strategic insight and command flexibility. More importantly, he has a history of rapport with you.”
She nodded slowly, the name stirring more than just nostalgia. Vannon had always been quick-witted and even-keeled, even as a teenager. The idea of working alongside him - this time as colleagues - felt oddly right.
Her eyes fell on the next name: Lieutenant Commander Stephen Jacobs – Chief Counselor.
Simone blinked. “Stephen?”
“You served together aboard the Heyerdahl-A, I believe.”
“Yes...” Her voice softened. “He was Chief Counselor. I was barely a diplomatic ensign then - promoted to junior grade in ’81. He... helped me through a lot.” She paused. “Especially after my father’s death.”
Tuvok was quiet for a moment, as though acknowledging the weight of that memory without intruding on it. “Commander Jacobs requested reassignment to a remote frontier post following the Frontier Day attack. He cited a desire to offer psychological support to crews in high-stress assignments. Given his familiarity with you and his decades of experience, he was deemed an ideal fit.”
Simone exhaled, the knot in her chest loosening just slightly. Jacobs had always been a steady presence - empathetic, insightful, unshaken by chaos. Having him on the outpost felt like bringing a piece of the Heyerdahl with her.
Tuvok continued, “You have also been assigned a Judge Advocate General Officer: Lieutenant Junior Grade James Eve.”
“A JAG officer?”
“Given the volatile legal landscape surrounding refugee resettlement, corporate disputes, and the unique jurisdictional status of Arendis Prime, a legal officer is essential. Lieutenant Eve has strong credentials in interstellar law and prior experience in frontier adjudication. His presence will allow you to act with both strategic and legal clarity.”
“And,” Simone said, catching on, “a Federation-aligned legal voice makes it harder for Venteris to worm in.”
“Precisely,” Tuvok said. “Lieutenant Eve will also liaise with local civil representatives where necessary. And assist in evaluating the legality of any corporate influence pacts made in the region prior to Starfleet’s reactivation of the outpost.”
Simone nodded, a thoughtful silence stretching between them. She looked down at the padd again, the names crystallizing now into a picture. Not just any crew, but now her crew and her responsibility - the weight of which she might need a while to fully comprehend.
And this crew - her crew - had threads woven through her own past. The Heyerdahl, Venteris, the diplomatic fires she’d put out across the Romulan frontier. Somehow, all the pieces had drifted back together.
“You’ve put a lot of history into this assignment, sir,” she said finally, her voice low. “Connections.”
Tuvok regarded her with steady eyes. “History can be a liability... or an asset. The outcome depends on how it is wielded.”
Simone met his gaze. “And if I don’t live up to it?”
“You will,” he said. Not boastfully. Not kindly. Simply as fact.
Simone rose from her seat, cradling the padd in one hand, its smooth surface suddenly feeling far heavier than its weight allowed. The silence between them had settled into something not quite final, but edged with understanding. This was the kind of conversation that changed things, and they both knew it.
She nodded once, crisp and respectful. “Thank you, sir. For your trust.”
Tuvok remained seated for a moment longer, then stood as well, hands once more folded behind his back. The light from the viewport caught the silver edges of his uniform as he moved to face her.
“I trust the appointment will prove mutually beneficial,” he said evenly. Then, a slight tilt of his head. “Though I must note, Commander… time may not be an abundant commodity.”
Simone paused at the doorway, her brow knitting just slightly. “You mean for the outpost?”
“For all of us,” Tuvok replied. “Given the state of the fleet following Frontier Day, and the mounting strain across multiple sectors, qualified officers are in high demand. Reassignments can occur rapidly - often without warning. Starfleet will not hesitate to redeploy personnel if broader strategic needs dictate it.”
She studied him for a moment. There was no emotion in his tone - there never was - but something about the way he said it gave the words weight. It wasn’t a warning, exactly. More like... acknowledgment. Of the fragility of plans. Of the thin wire all of them now walked.
“I understand,” Simone said quietly.
Tuvok’s eyes held hers a beat longer. “Then I hope this - ” he gestured faintly toward the padd in her hand, “ - will prove resilient enough to endure whatever changes may come. For the mission... and for you.”
She gave the smallest of nods, a flicker of something passing across her face that might have been gratitude - or resolve.
The doors hissed open behind her and she stepped out without looking back.
= END =
RSS Feed