Fleet Captain Sa'lanna deactivated the recorder and settled back into the Liberator's center seat; while her posture seemed relaxed, a nettled frown indicated to those who knew her that she wasn't satisfied with the entry.

It is important to be concise when annotating the ship's log, the Vulcan thought. However, a clear picture of the vessel's current status is always a necessity. At times, these two requirements seem annoyingly in conflict. 

Sa'lanna considered appending what she'd said, mentioning in some detail how well Liberator and its crew had performed during the recent battle at Deep Space Nine. Upon further reflection, though, she realized that would force her to comment on the onboard systems requiring additional work; most notably the new - and, theoretically, at least, improved - shield grid. 

During a critical point in the engagement, the 'state-of-the-art' screens had overloaded and the generators had shut down completely. If the hull and frame of the ship weren't composed of carbon neutronium, the Liberator would have been destroyed. As it stood, the Dominion's weaponry had proven ineffective, and the small Federation force had won the day - at the cost of Commander Daniel Shetley's life.

Sa'lanna's finger hovered over the log entry control panel, debating. Perhaps a comment on the crew, vis-à-vis the vessel, she thought.

"You could sit there all day revising it and still not be satisfied," a voice from behind her observed.

Sa'lanna rotated her chair to face Vice Admiral Alexander Pierce, who sat directly behind the captain's chair at the station reserved for the fleet commander. She noted for the hundredth time that the seat was set higher than any other station on the bridge. This gave the admiral a view of every crew member, allowing him to 'look down from on high', as Captain Quick had once put it.

"One of the things about being a captain so many forget is that they have an entire crew maintaining their own official logs," Pierce continued. "It isn't always necessary to annotate every single event. Chances are someone else has already made the entry over which you're debating."

There were notable benefits, both to prestige and influence, in having been made commanding officer of the most powerful vessel in the Federation fleet, Sa'lanna knew. 

Having your superior observing from what amounted to an elevated dais behind you was not one of them.

"When I have the option, I leave nothing to chance," Sa'lanna stated.

"That's why you review the reports published by your department heads," Pierce replied.

Sa'lanna considered the admiral's comments for a moment. "Then you have never second guessed a log entry?" she asked.

"Of course I have," Pierce answered quickly. "I also learned a long time ago that when an admiral reviews a captain's log he or she doesn't want to see some repetitive, droning recount their staff has already annotated in greater detail."

I truly believe he has no idea how irritating he can be, Sa'lanna thought. Every other captain in the fleet makes a log entry uninterrupted and unimpeded. I get advice on content from my father. Such paternal interest would have been more appreciated some years ago.

Best to move on before the exchange becomes...acrimonious.

"I have decided to make Commander Planty my new Operations Manager," she announced.

Pierce leaned forward. "What are you going to do about Tactical?"

"There is an admitted shortage of experienced officers aboard the Liberator," Sa'lanna replied. "I suppose I will have to select from outside the current command structure."

"Starbase 88 seems a likely prospect to find a new tactical officer," Admiral Pierce commented, seemingly almost to himself.

Taking the none-too-subtle hint, Sa'lanna accessed the control panel on the arm of her command chair. Her eyes quickly darted across the names that appeared, the thin line of a frown punctuating her features as she perused the list of available candidates.

"Have you ever heard of a Lieutenant Commander Melora DeSoto?"

Pierce, who had returned to his own reading, looked up at the mention of the name.

"Did you say, DeSoto?" he asked, placing a PADD inside a small compartment on the side of his own chair.

"Melora DeSoto, Lieutenant Commander, formerly assigned to the U.S.S. Agamemnon but recently stationed at Starbase 88," Sa'lanna replied, reading from the biography.

"I know a Captain Robert DeSoto, commanding the Excelsior-class U.S.S. Hood," Pierce replied. 

Sa'lanna quickly scanned the file.

"Only one living relative..." she paused, narrowing her eyes. "Captain Robert DeSoto."

Pierce noticed the look in Sa'lanna's eyes.

"Something wrong?" he asked, surpressing a smile.

"Two things, actually," the Liberator's captain replied. "First, I find it somewhat disconcerting that you know practically everyone in the Starfleet.

"Second, and more importantly, I do not believe that Melora DeSoto bears much of a resemblance to her father."

Pierce frowned.

"What do you mean?" 

Sa'lanna quickly pivoted the monitor around towards him.

Pierce frowned again as he looked at the image of a female Orion - a very beautiful female Orion. Then again, he thought, was there any other type?

"Hmmm...you're right," Pierce conceded. "I assume that Robert adopted her, since I know his late wife, Louise, was human."

Pierce leaned forward to get a better look at Lieutenant Commander DeSoto's personnel file.

Sa'lanna pointedly turned the monitor back to its standard position, annoyed at the admiral's obvious reaction to the woman's allure.

"This record is incomplete," she stated.

Pierce shrugged.

"Don't blame me, I didn't write it.

"But in response to your first comment," he continued, settling back into his seat, "when you've been in Starfleet for more than fifty years you can't help but know people."

Sa'lanna switched off the display and turned back to the commander of the Seventh Fleet.

Pierce was less familiar with his daughter than most fathers, but knew her well enough to recognize the look in her eyes. He waited patiently as she debated her options.

"I have decided to consider offering Lieutenant Commander DeSoto the Tactical position."

"It's your ship," the admiral replied neutrally.

That could be the subject of a lively debate, she thought wryly. 

"I would interview her first, though," he continued.

Sa'lanna ignored the sarcastic humor in his tone. "There are several gaps in her biography upon which I would like clarification before making my final decision."

A quiet alarm suddenly caused the two officers to abruptly end their conversation and look at the tactical display on the main viewer.

"Captain," Commander Planty announced, "we're entering visual range of Starbase 88."

Sa'lanna spun around and stabbed the control console to the right of the center seat.

Her voice rang with authority. "Red Alert. All hands stand to battle stations. Raise shields; activate and secure all porthole armor shutters; bring all weapon systems on-line."

"Aye, Captain," Planty responded promptly.

The image changed, split between tactical and visual displays.

Sa'lanna prepared for the coming storm.