Thrilling. And Terrifying.
Posted on Tue Apr 1st, 2025 @ 12:43am by Lieutenant Haz Mondo PsyD
Mission:
01-A Change
Location: USS Hamilton
Timeline: 2 weeks before MD01-0900Hours
The USS Hamilton cruised steadily at warp, the faint thrum of its engines a constant presence beneath the polished floors and smooth bulkheads. In his quarters, Haz Mondo sat at his desk, idly tracing the rim of a cooling mug of raktajino with his fingertip. The scent of the drink was rich, earthy, familiar—but tonight, it did little to settle the restless energy coiling in his chest.
His orders were displayed on the screen before him, the Starfleet insignia crisp and unyielding at the top of the directive:
Lieutenant Haz Mondo, you are hereby reassigned and required to report to Deep Space K-17. The USS Lo'rathe will rendez vous with you in the next 2 two hours to transport you to your posting.
It had been a long time since an anything had stirred such conflicting emotions in him. Haz wasn’t one to dwell—counselors weren’t afforded the luxury of uncertainty when they were expected to guide others through it—but even he wasn’t immune to the complicated weight of change.
Deep Space K-17. The station had been infamous before its refit, a dumping ground for officers Starfleet wasn’t quite ready to discharge but had no real use for. Haz had read the reports, spoken to a few former officers who had served there before the overhaul. The consensus was the same: if you were assigned to K-17, it was either because you were a last-chance case or because someone had drawn your name from a particularly cruel lottery. But that was before.
Now, the station was something else entirely.
The refit had been more than just structural—it had been symbolic. The Federation’s renewed interest in K-17, spurred by the shifting tensions with the Tzenkethi, had transformed it from an afterthought into a crucial waypoint. It was no longer just a limbo for misfits and exiles; it was a frontier post, a place where reputations could be made or broken. Haz suspected that, for many of the officers stationed there, the sudden attention was a double-edged blade.
He took a slow sip of his drink, the bitterness grounding him. The Tzenkethi situation had changed everything. A station once forgotten had become a waypoint of significance, and Starfleet had started taking K-17 seriously. And with that came the need for officers who could navigate the chaos of reinvention, of shaky diplomatic footing, of new and old crews forced to work together despite their differences.
Haz wasn’t sure where he fit in all of that just yet.
His thoughts drifted to some of the names he recognized from the articles and reports about the talks with the Tzenkethi. Some of them had been at K-17 before the refit—officers who had either embraced the station’s reputation or simply endured it. Some of them had been promoted despite it. Others had been buried by it. And now, he was about to walk into that mix, a counselor on a station filled with people who had every reason to distrust Starfleet’s sudden investment in their future.
He knew what that looked like. What it felt like. The sting of being undervalued, of being stationed somewhere that felt more like a punishment than a posting. But he also knew that cynicism wasn’t the full story. A place like K-17, caught between its past and its potential, was bound to be brimming with the kind of people who refused to be defined by where they were sent. He had worked with officers like that before. He had been one.
The prospect was thrilling. And terrifying.
A chime from his console drew his attention. An incoming message—one of many. No doubt well-wishes from crewmates aboard the Hamilton, or notes from fellow counselors offering insight on the transition. He could read them later. For now, he allowed himself a small exhale, rolling his shoulders as he leaned back in his chair.
This was an opportunity. A challenge. And Haz Mondo had never shied away from either.
With one last glance at the orders on his screen, he closed his inbox and finished his raktajino. Deep Space K-17 awaited.
