(The events of this arc take place during the 90-day window of Chapter 162)
"Captain's Log: Stardate 88593.4
The crew has been issued their Universal Temperament and Logic Index exams, and everyone is in the process of taking them in their off-duty hours. We have approximately eighty more days of our 'Strategic Asset Map' initiative before the Zakdorn Qiln returns to pass judgment on whether or not I am fit to keep command of the TGC Nexus.
Regardless of the outcome of his audit, the Nexus still has missions to accomplish and worlds to explore. Now that the hull paint has dried and the title 'TGC' is starting to sink in, I find myself sitting, waiting, and watching my desk terminal for our next assignment to drop into our laps. Yes... indeed... still... waiting…"
Captain Anzyl Praxas leaned back in his chair, his feet propped up on the clear glass desk in his ready room as he flipped through recipes on a data padd.
"Tarkalian Russet Soufflé… how in the world do you get Tarkalian violet eggs to rise without… Oh… so that's how…" he mused to himself, casually scrolling through dish after dish.
Suddenly, his badge chirped.
"Communications to Captain Praxas," Lieutenant Heluna's dutiful voice rang out.
"Praxas here!" he replied instantly, setting the padd aside and sitting up straight, eager for something official to do.
"I have Admiral Kumaarke with an Alliance Priority One message for you, sir."
"Oh!" Perking up, intrigued, he replied, "Put her through to my terminal, Lieutenant. Thank you."
With the tap of an interface button, the familiar, vibrant smile of his dear friend, Admiral Kumaarke, appeared on the viewscreen.
"Admiral!" Anzyl said, almost giddy to see her. "How are you doing, my friend? Comfy in the Admiral's chair, I take it?"
Kumaarke offered a soft giggle at his jovial greeting. "I am well, Anzyl, though the chair has felt… heavy as of late. But enough about me! Congratulations on the re-christening of your ship! The Tour de la Galaxie Champion Nexus has a nice ring to it!"
"Ha… thanks," he said, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. "It still hasn't quite sunk in yet. But I'm sure you didn't patch through on an Alliance priority channel just to congratulate the crew."
"As much as I wish we Lukari had taken the trophy, I must admit we were no match for the Nexus or the Cooperative." She smiled, her expression shifting from friendly warmth to professional focus. "You are correct. Do you recall when you stood before the tribunal for your first annual review? With myself, Admiral Quinn, and the other Alliance leaders?"
Anzyl thought back, nodding. "Yeah, on Starbase 1 above Earth. What about it?"
"Do you remember our discussion regarding the restoration of New Kentar, and how we used a Tzenkethi protomatter device to reset its ecosystem?"
"Of course I remember. We were both in the room."
She nodded solemnly. "And do you recall my mentioning that we might use a similar device to reclaim Old Kentar?"
Anzyl leaned forward, excited. "Did you get approval?!"
"We went a step further," Kumaarke replied with a faint smile. "We dropped the device and molecularly reset Old Kentar quite some time ago. You were away at the time—the Nexus was deployed to the Gamma Quadrant hunting the Fek'ihri homeworld, if you recall."
Anzyl folded his arms, leaning back in his chair. "So if the planetary reset is already complete, why call me now?"
Kumaarke twiddled her thumbs with suppressed excitement. "Because since then, we have successfully replenished Old Kentar's hydrosphere using comets from the surrounding nebula, and seeded the crust with native flora preserved from our first exodus. The planet is stabilizing wonderfully! The plant life is flourishing just as it should!"
Surprised by the news, Anzyl smiled. "That's fantastic, Kumaarke. But once again... why call me?"
"Because the next phase is the Second Great Exodus—the relocation and reclamation of the planet's fauna. Specifically, the migration of native species from Lukar back to Old Kentar. We've secured Starfleet's massive Typhon-class carriers for the lower food chains, but we need a specialized... Ark... to transport the apex predators."
Anzyl's jaw dropped. "You want the Nexus to be an Ark for Kentar's apex predators?!"
Kumaarke gave a sheepish, hesitant smile. "The Nexus is the largest vessel with a fully equipped security contingent in the Alliance. With some minor retrofitting, your primary cargo bays and holodecks should serve as adequate temporary paddocks for Lukar's top-tier carnivores." She pulled up a data padd on her end. "I wanted to ask you personally first, but just so you know... I do have formal approval from Alliance Command for the TGC Nexus to undertake this task."
Anzyl shook his head, a wide grin breaking across his face. "Regardless of whether Quinn and the Council signed off on it, I would've said yes anyway, my friend. After all, what are friends for if not to help move the most dangerous animals in the quadrant across the stars?"
As the words left his mouth, the sheer logistical reality of the task settled in, and his grin wavered slightly.
"Wonderful! I am transmitting the species roster to your communications station now. Make sure your xenobiologists review the manifest carefully. We aren't transporting every animal from Lukar—just enough to establish a genetically stable founder population. I'm leaving the Apex Ark in your capable hands!"
"This mission must be incredibly meaningful for you," Anzyl noted, observing the radiant energy radiating from her.
"It is! The Lukari are making another Great Exodus, but this time, we are going home," she beamed. "And to oversee the migration... well, it's an honor. Speaking of which, I have a mountain of preparations to finish before the carriers arrive. I would love to stay and catch up, but duty calls! Kumaarke out."
The viewscreen faded back to the emblem of the Khitomer Alliance. Anzyl leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"From race champion to apex predator ark…" he chuckled to himself. "Man, I love this job."