9.015 - Ours is Not to Question Why
Acting Captain.
He'd read the encrypted communique from Dac and looked at it like it was the aftermath of a bomb going off. He'd just gotten over the growing pains of being promoted once, and this second time was just cruelty. Fleet command had been briefed about the ongoing situation with Sanis. They had (secondary) orders to find him, but it was clear that command was moving on. The greater war effort couldn't wait for Sanis to be found. Despite every part of him wanting to rage and defy what was in front of him, he knew what was being demanded of him.
He hated it, but it wasn't his choice. No, he and Sanis had long ago made up their minds about that sort of thing, didn't they? Cast their lot.
Lok s'Ilancy was still onboard, but the role had changed. She was a liason, offering guidance and advice as he acclimated himself to command, but giving him just enough room to fly, or just enough rope to hang himself. Cirr winced, gulping away his own nagging thoughts of inadequacy. It would be too easy for him to say that he wasn't prepared for the task. He simply had to be ready.
Enough moping.
He stood from his desk, tugged down at the hemline of his jacket to straighten it as he looked in the mirror across the room. Captain of the Alliance. The extra pip on his chest weighed a ton, at least in his mind. Time to act like he knew how to carry the weight.
He headed for the bridge.