Holding the Line
Posted on 12 Oct 2025 @ 9:58pm by Captain Sabrina Corbin
945 words; about a 5 minute read
Mission:
Fractured Accord
Location: USS Arawyn in orbit of Tarvik III
Timeline: 242510.12
// Bridge – USS Arawyn //
“After the storm, the bridge hummed steady again. Below them, Tarvik III turned, bruised, yet threaded with new green. The bridge lights had settled into their normal operational glow, a soft amber cast that smoothed the hard edges of the consoles and the faces bent over them. The quiet pulse of the ship’s systems filled the air, steady, familiar, and grounding.
Around her, the crew moved with practiced precision, tired but focused, waiting for her next word.
Corbin stood near the command chair, posture composed, eyes scanning the tactical overlay that mapped every heat bloom and comm signature across the colony grid. She’d learned to read such maps like second nature, threats and vulnerabilities translated into shifting constellations of light. But the image that held her gaze longest was the planet itself. So much potential below, and now, so much uncertainty.
“Report,” she said quietly.
From Ops, Powell looked up. “Lieutenant Flammia reports the site is secure, Captain. Seven Kaldari located. Three injured, four detained without resistance. The shuttle they arrived in is disabled and under guard.”
Corbin felt the pull to act, to be in the middle of the crisis instead of orbiting above it. But command demanded distance, and she was still learning how to carry that. She told herself what every instructor at Command had repeated: stay clear, stay calm, and they’ll follow your lead. Her voice, when she spoke, carried that steadiness she didn’t yet feel.
“Understood. Medical teams are to treat all casualties, ours and theirs. Make sure that’s clear to everyone on the ground. Beam aboard anyone needing additional care.”
Her fingers brushed her combadge. “Corbin to Sickbay. Dr. Amberlyn, confirm Commander Boren’s condition.”
Amberlyn’s voice came through crisp but controlled as she reported the CEO’s status. The relief that followed was sharper than expected. For the last half hour, the bridge had been a pressure chamber of held breath. Sabrina exhaled quietly, almost soundlessly, and felt the tightness in her chest ease.
“Noted, Doctor. Keep me informed.”
She stepped forward toward the main viewer, the planet’s curvature reflected in the sheen of her uniform. It had been a simple assignment once; escort, observation, oversight. Somewhere along the way, it had become another reminder that simplicity never survived contact with the frontier.
“Open a secure diplomatic channel to the Kaldari Union Colonial Authority,” she ordered. “Priority One.”
A pause, then a nod from the comms station. “Channel open, Captain.”
She straightened. Authority followed. Her voice was calm, precise, the tone she reserved for moments when composure mattered more than force.
“This is Captain Sabrina Corbin of the Federation starship Arawyn.
We’ve recovered seven Kaldari personnel following an armed confrontation at our authorized terraforming site on Tarvik III. They are being treated for injuries aboard and planetside.
Our records confirm your registered settlements are on the far continent, outside this designated Federation zone. I am requesting immediate dialogue with your colonial representative or military attaché to resolve this matter peacefully and prevent any further misunderstanding.
The Arawyn stands ready to cooperate.”
She gave a small nod to transmit the message. The words hung in the air long after the comms officer acknowledged. Corbin turned slightly toward Ops. “Maintain orbital surveillance and keep a lock on the surface team. If anything stirs near that perimeter, I want eyes on it.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Tarvik III filled the main viewer again, its storm bands curling like bruises over the poles, its new jungles spreading in improbable swaths of green. Somewhere beneath that haze, two governments’ ambitions had collided. Corbin had read enough intelligence briefs to know how easily a frontier misunderstanding could ignite into something permanent. A handful of soldiers acting without orders could still spark decades of distrust if handled poorly.
The Federation couldn’t afford another fractured accord. Not here. Not now.
Her fingers found the back of her chair, the cool metal grounding her. The Arawyn was still unfamiliar in small ways, the rhythm of her decks, the hum of her systems, but it was hers now, and it held her steady when the rest of the quadrant did not.
A single tone from Comms confirmed the message’s transmission. No immediate reply. That was fine. The Kaldari would need to consult to measure their own words before answering hers. Patience was as much a weapon as phasers in moments like this.
“Corbin to Lieutenant Flammia, Commander Sorvak, and Ensign Collingway,” she said. “Request a full surface status update. I want your assessments on project integrity, environmental stability, and safety for continued operations.”
She nodded once to the communications officer, who was already routing the message through standard channels. Corbin didn’t wait for a response; she trusted her people to know what to do and to answer when they could.
She lowered herself into the command chair, elbows resting lightly on the armrests. The viewer dimmed slightly as the ship shifted its orbital angle, sunlight glancing off the hull and scattering across the bridge in fractured gold. Around her, the crew settled back into their rhythm, hands steady on their controls, voices low but sure. The Arawyn had found its cadence again.
Corbin let her gaze linger on the planet a final moment, its wounded surface now cloaked in improbable green. “Bridge standing by for your update,” she said softly, more to herself than anyone else.
The words lingered, even as the ship’s hum filled the silence. And below, Tarvik III turned slowly on its axis, its newborn jungles shimmering beneath the light of a patient, waiting sun.
Captain Sabrina Corbin
Commanding Officer
USS Arawyn
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