there are no fewer than five starfleet ships now in orbit, counting the cayuga, following vague and unexplained orders from starfleet. or, at least, marie assumes they're all here under orders, though that may be merely presumptuous on her part. she wishes her security clearance ever got her answers when she wanted them, but such was not the way of the world.
the orders, the admiral she had last spoken to had insisted, were quite clear. make her way to trivelius ix, beam down to the coordinates provided in her orders, and await further instruction. she ought to have no problems completing them.
the orders, marie had thought, biting off the protest, were quite suspicious.
she wasn't sure if enterprise was a welcome sight or a sign that they were in for trouble, yet she had taken her chief of security (she was, according to her orders, allowed one accompanying member of her crew ) and beamed down to the surface. she took quick stock of her surroundings — enough to gather that they stood in a surprisingly bustling square of an unexpectedly vibrant city ( had a civilization been part of the briefing her crew had put together on trivelius ix? she couldn't remember ). she picked his familiar features — and the brilliant gold of starfleet uniform that managed to stand out even here — and wound her way over to him, leaving her chief of security to no doubt complete a more thorough scan of their environment.
❝ oh, good, you're here too, ❞ he remarks as he catches sight of her, and she laughs.
❛ seems a bit like overkill. ❜ despite her wry remark, she flashes him a smile by way of greeting. ❛ I don't suppose you actually know what's going on. I went through five admirals trying to get answers on the way here, and no one's wanted to tell me anything. I'm feeling a little put out. ❜ still, for all the honesty of the sentiment, her tone remains light; better to find humor in their shared predicament than truly indulge her annoyance towards their superiors at having been kept in the dark.
