:From a former loose cannon/maverick's inner monologue:
But they were in a position of authority now, and for some reason that meant they didn't get to have their way anymore. -- Recklessprudence
Blaize Hartley hadn't meant to become a hero. It just sort of happened that way. She leaped in where angels would fear to hear about and winged it from there. She had an extreme knack for getting herself both into and out of the most ridiculous of pickles.
Including a trip down a one-way wormhole remnant to a system of interconnected planetary systems that were isolated from the greater Galactic Alliance. They had a set of really interesting problems that Blaize just kind of barged through.
And since she had nowhere else to go for a Galactic decade, she had to stick around to sort out the mess. Songs were sung, stories were told, dramatisations were made.
And, not knowing exactly how it happened, Blaize Hartley wound up... in charge. She, who regularly thumbed her nose at Authority... had become one. There was no real warning. No way to prepare. She came back from another wild session of daring do to discover a mountain of paperwork to fill out.
And an administrative staff wanting her decisions.
She tried to delegate. Finding people who were really great at their jobs, and then politely requesting they do her job for her. But it never stuck. Every time she thought she had a window of opportunity for one more adventure, the staff found her, dragged her back to her office, and sat more paperwork in front of her.
The Authorities, she found out, were not fun people because they never got to have any.
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