Commander Margaret Walker: Change of Scenery

[Michael Meir-Wright]

OOC: Say hello to Margaret….

(( Office of the Section Chief, Dominion Affairs; Starfleet Intelligence; San Francisco; Earth ))

The ice cold glass of water materialised in whorls of blue-white energy, accompanied by a symphonic whir as the replicator constituted its requisite parts from energy and transmuted it into matter. Once the process had concluded, Commander Margaret Walker retrieved the receptacle and its contents with a graceful movement of her perfectly manicured left hand. Something of an afternoon ritual that she had practised for as long as she could remember, the fifty year old intelligence operative did not look up from the PADD that was reading. The glass felt cool in her grip and she felt the beginnings of condensation moistening her palms as she lifted it to her lips and drew a small but thirst-quenching sip.

She crossed her small, functional office and slipped back into the high-backed black leather chair that had become her personal workspace, eyes still fixed on the screen of the small device she clutched in her right hand. There were few personal possessions that could inform any visitor as to who Walker was- and that was by design. The austere environment kept distractions to a minimum, both for her and anybody who might want to meet with her. The few items that did define her were kept out of sight or displayed in such a way that they were not worthy of conversation: a picture of her academy graduation on a high shelf, a tome of the collected works of Geoffrey Chaucer in the drawer attached to her simple gunmetal grey desk. Even the view from the tall windows was designed to keep her focused: simply a nondescript gravel path lined with unremarkable shrubbery and a usually blue sky that was occasionally interrupted by an overhead shuttle or other such small craft.

Work had been Margaret Walker’s life for as long as she had been a commissioned officer in Starfleet. She took her work- first as an analyst and then as Section Chief for the Dominion Affairs bureau- very seriously. Some in the highest echelons of Starfleet Command might have thought the Gamma Quadrant power to be a threat consigned to the recent past, but she believed otherwise- especially with the recent bursts of activities from the nascent ‘United Dominion of Planets’ and their possible Zet allies. That particular situation was still unfolding, and whatever was in motion would not likely come to fruition for some time, but the three-decade veteran of Starfleet Intelligence knew the importance of keeping watchful eyes on one’s enemies, potential or otherwise. And so, she kept her focus sharp.

She was reviewing the latest signals dispatch from the far-flung corner of the Gamma Quadrant when a knock at her office door reached her ears. Her hazel eyes flicked up to see Lieutenant Jhytao sh’Orhaalnohr awaiting admission, the shen’s long gleaming white hair cascading down over her shoulder and her twin antenna wiggling in anticipation. Walker nodded her head, set down the PADD and placed her hands joined in her lap. sh’Orhaalnohr opened the glass fronted door with a turn of the handle and stepped in. Having worked together for three and a half years, the Andorian knew better than to attempt pleasantries with their superior- instead she stopped in front of Walker’s desk and handed her another PADD.

sh’Orhaalnohr: The report you wanted on the assets on Yansamin Anchorage, ma’am.

Walker took the PADD from sh’Orhaalnohr’s outstretched hand and activated the screen, skimming through the scant information in a few seconds. It made for unfortunate reading. Ever since what some in Dominion Affairs had dubbed ‘The Nautilus Incident’ reliable SENINT had all but dried up. Not helping matters was the local information broker, a colourful Boslic by the name of Nanjjii had left the waystation after an encounter with representatives from the starship ‘Oumuamua. There had been chatter from that ship’s Intelligence officer about making the woman an asset, but nothing had yet to come of it. And that still did not solve the problem of getting eyes and ears on the independent outpost.

Walker: Thank you, Lieutenant. :: she replied, without looking up. When she sensed that sh’Orhaalnohr was lingering at the desk, she turned her yellow-brown orbs back at the young Signals Analyst. :: Is there something else?

For a split second, the shen seemed to hesitate and Walker registered a fleeting moment of doubt in their gaze. As quick as it appeared, however, it disappeared- leaving behind the professional mien that the Section Chief had come to appreciate.

sh’Orhaalnohr: Your shuttle has arrived ma’am.

A sudden, and wholly unexpected, pang of anxiety lanced Walker’s stomach as if she had been pierced with an ice cold needle. She felt herself tense in response, although she took care to carefully school her features into a visage of calm professionalism. She scooped up the first PADD and stacked it on top of the report from the Andorian, and then pulled a long draw from her glass of water before setting it down on the desk’s featureless top. Getting to her feet, she inclined her head once.

Walker: I see. :: beat :: Thank you for letting me know, Lieutenant. I can take it from here. :: she added with cool politeness. ::

sh’Orhaalnohr: Yes ma’am. :: came the reply in an equally businesslike tone. ::

Walker opened the drawer to retrieve her copy of The Collected Works of Chaucer- something to read on the flight to Spacedock- when she was once again interrupted by sh’Orhaalnohr continued desire to linger in her office. The Andorian hovered near the open door, clearly wanting to say something else. Tilting her head ever so slightly to the right and cocking an eyebrow upwards, Walker invited her subordinate- no, her former subordinate- to speak again.

sh’Orhaalnohr: I just wanted to say ma’am… :: again they hesitated for a moment before resolving to continue. :: … It's been a pleasure serving with you. Dominion Affairs won’t be the same without you.

The corners of Walker’s mouth twitched upwards into the ghost of a smile. At the same time, the fleeting moment of anxiety melted away, replaced by a warm feeling of gratitude and a genuine regret that was not able to take the shen with her. Remembering herself, she shook her head slightly and affected an expression of doubt.

Walker: Nonsense, :: she intoned in her  East Anglian accent. :: You’ll be in good hands with Commander Sekkim. :: unable to help herself, she dropped the pretense ever so slightly. :: But thank you. It has been a pleasure serving with you as well.

She bobbed her head once more, a silent order for sh’Orhaalnohr to vacate her office. The Andorian returned the gesture and then returned to their desk in the pen of cubicles on the other side of the glass door and walls. For a second, Walker watched them go before she retrieved her Academy graduation holophoto: her smiling family of Mother, Father and a surprisingly chipper Alfred. She tucked it under arm and knowing that she had nothing else to do, quietly- and without a fuss- exited her office for the final time. 

She walked the length of the corridor to the turbolift at the far end of Dominion Affairs. As she did so, she was acutely aware that every eye in the pen was now watching with her quiet interest. She did not let on, for fear that somebody would cause a scene by surprising her with a cake or flowers: she abhorred anybody making a scene and she had been quietly dreading this very walk for that reason. She was greatly pleased when the turbolift opened at her approach and she stepped in unmolested. As she turned back to face the doors, she was greeted with the sight of every officer under her command standing and clapping. Another strange surge of gratitude greeted the sight and she allowed herself a moment to savour in their fond farewell.

Then, the doors closed and the lift spirited her up, through Starfleet Intelligence’s headquarters to the rooftop shuttle pad. By the time she reached her destination, she had returned her focus to the matters at hand. The Type-14 vessels that awaited would promptly take her to Spacedock and from there she would travel to the Gamma Quadrant aboard the recently repaired USS ‘Oumuamua. The Luna-class explorer would promptly rendezvous with the Octavia E. Butler, another newly commissioned vessel that boasted a classified state-of-the-art Intelligence division- one which would serve her well in her new role as the GFETF’s Director of Intelligence.

It was not lost on Walker that it would mark her first time in the Gamma Quadrant, despite spending nearly thirty years of her life analysing and strategizing about the Dominion. After so long exploring the geopolitical makeup from a fair, she would not be doing so up close. It was a unique opportunity not afforded to many and the Starfleet veteran was determined not to waist it. Her predecessor in the role had laid the foundations of a promising network of assets and opportunities, but now she was intending to elevate it, to truly understand what had happened to The Dominion and what threat- if any was posed by the United Dominion of Planets and their tenuous alliance with the Zet. She just hoped that she would be ready.

Walker: oO Or… Oo :: she mused to herself with a small, almost imperceptible smile. :: oO I hope they will be ready for me. Oo

—

Commander Margaret Walker

Director of Intelligence

Gamma Flotilla Expeditionary Task Force

Assigned to

USS Octavia E. Butler

C239203TW0