Post Number: 254 *Promotion*

Posted on Sun Apr 6th, 2025 @ 3:08am by Captain Marius Pontmercy & Lieutenant JG Fara Galaway
Edited on on Sun Apr 6th, 2025 @ 3:09am

431 words; about a 2 minute read

Mission: Secrets

On:

The doors to Captain Marius Pontmercy's ready room hissed open, and Ensign Fara Galaway stepped inside, her boots clicking softly against the deck plating. The room was dimly lit, the glow of starfields spilling through the panoramic viewport. The captain stood with his back to her, hands clasped behind him, staring out at the wreckage of a Federation supply convoy still drifting in space—eleven days old, yet no one had the resources to retrieve it.

"Ensign Galaway reporting as ordered, sir," Fara said, her voice steady despite the exhaustion weighing on her.

Captain Pontmercy turned. His usual sharp bearing was dulled by the same fatigue they all carried. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and the lines on his face seemed deeper than before the attack. But when he looked at her, there was something else there—something that might have been pride.

"At ease, Ensign," he said, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. "Or should I say *Lieutenant* Junior Grade?"

Fara froze. "Sir?"

Pontmercy exhaled, a tired smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He reached into a small box on his desk and withdrew a single, gleaming rank pip. "Effective immediately. Consider this overdue."

Fara's throat tightened. Eleven days ago, a promotion would have sent her heart racing. Now, it settled in her chest like a stone. "With all due respect, Captain—why now?"

Pontmercy rounded the desk, the pip glinting between his fingers. "Because in the last eleven days, you’ve done the work of an entire science division. Because when half my officers were ready to collapse, you were still running simulations at 0300 trying to crack Synthulan shield harmonics. Because *someone* on this starbase needs to remember that we’re still Starfleet, even in hell." His voice softened. "And because you earned it."

Fara swallowed hard. She wanted to argue—to tell him that none of it mattered, that she hadn’t *solved* anything, that millions were still dead—but the words wouldn’t come.

The captain stepped closer. "May I?"

She nodded stiffly.

Pontmercy reached for her collar, his fingers deft as he removed the old rank insignia. The new pip clicked into place with finality. "Congratulations, Lieutenant."

The weight of it was unbearable. "I haven’t *done* anything," she whispered.

Pontmercy’s hand lingered on her shoulder. "You’re still *here*," he said quietly. "And right now, that’s enough."

Outside, the stars burned cold and indifferent. But for the first time in days, Fara stood a little straighter.

Off:

Lieutenant Junior Grade Fara Galaway
Assistant Chief Science Officer
Starbase Obsidian

 

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