Morning before the Grand Re-opening

It had been a busy week. Caela and Riordan, along with many members of the crew had spent time and trouble whipping the lounge into a space worthy of entertaining crew and guests alike. 

Several banquet tables and two smaller ones, were arranged around the large room. Tabletops were hand-hammered brass and had a thin film to make it flat and easy to clean. Long benches lined one, the others had larger wooden chairs. Rich red mahogany, polished to a mirror finish, along with padded cushions.
 

Brilliant shields lined the walls. Each emblazoned with the crest of a different Federation member. The blue UFP banner hung behind the shields and over the large stone fireplace lining one wall. Later the tables would be filled  with food, drink, and other entertainments. 
 

The bar top was an interesting pattern of butcherblock with dozens of shades of wood from a dozen worlds. A black marble base held up the bar top.

Hilea had her last piece to install—a hand-built twenty-liter distillery. 

The entrance was off-center as Hilea entered the room. Caela walked around from the warmly lit back area. Hilea put up her hand first, slowing Caela in her tracks, a wider smile on Caela’s face. “That’s shiny. What is it?” Caela asked. 

“Several engineers got together and built this as a final addition. You had mentioned the lack of refinement in the spirits from the replicator. I have used much cruder devices to create tinctures, solvents, and water. It is preloaded with an apricot brandy mixture. The yield will be eight point five liters at 100 proof.” Hilea offered as she wheeled the antigrav into place. Lifting the device to the counter, Hilea made the final connections on the glass, brass, and copper unit, powering the device on. 

“I love it. Thank you.” Caela was close but Hilea was prepared for the emotional assault. She did like woman, it was sometimes a bit much. A large glass of orange juice slid over at the same time. “Your usual.” 

1845 hours

Riordan arrived to supplement the staff. Since it was important to his sister, he didn’t mind. Dressed in a tuxedo, he walked around checking the various areas. 

1900 hours

Caela had on a shimmering gold evening gown. “You made it,” Caela said, as she spotted the newly appointed medical officer. 

She instantly put her mental shields up. Caela was a hugger if she could get away with it. For her part, Hilea had on a nice dark green dress with black pearl earrings to match. 

It was around the same time that the Captain decided to show up. Truth be told, Saffiya had loved these kind of events until she had become Commanding Officer. Now she didn’t quite know how to behave and how maintaining decorum worked when you were also trying to look like you had fun.

“This is nice.”, she said to Hina, who had been forced to accompany her here.

Hina shot a sidlong glance at Saffiya. She had been dragged along, and it had sounded suspiciously like an order. She had been working in Engineering when Saffiya had come to find her and tell her about the reopening of the lounge. The decor was nice though. She would still rather be in engineering. Or a jefferies tube.

“Uh-huh…” she commented, brushing at her dress some. She didnt enjoy parties. “You sure this looks ok? I feel silly.”

“Oh don’t say that. You look great.”, Saffiya smirked. She wore a suit from which she hoped it made her look handsome. Because she didn’t really like looking pretty.

“If you say so…”

The two women turned as Saffiya pointed out their new medical officer. “You look lovely, Lieutenant.”

“Thank you, Captain. Socializing in Federation parties is a skill I am still mastering it seems. The suit is a look I had not considered. It is attractive on you”

“Thank you.”, the Captain nodded. “And I understand the part about mastering parties. I’m still learning myself.”

“I don’t often go to parties in the first place…” Hina commented, shrugging. Made it easier to not have to worry about proper decorum for them.

Caelae mingled, greeting everyone and directing servers as needed. “Hilea, I have Holiday Mimosas. The flute glasses are rimmed with sugar. With your love of orange juice, I think you will enjoy it.” Turning to the others she offered. “Captain, Lieutenant, what can I get you?”

“What do you recommend?”, Saffiya asked.

Caela replied, “Taking inspiration from a few local talented sources. I have a Romulan Ale analog as it were. Nice thing is it won’t knock you around later. It’s rum and blue curacao, but it does the trick. Though mixing it with orange juice, makes it a lovely green. Think rum screwdriver. They don’t suck.” Caela said with a knowing now as she made eye contact with one her servers with a loaded tray. Then she added, “these would have been a smash on the star-cruise liner circuit.”

“Then I will take that.”

“Nothing for me thanks.” Hina said, shaking her head. She had an early shift.

The tray showed up. Several tall glass flutes of blue liquid were arranged along with larger glasses of thicker cold slushie mixture with lime edge garnishes and straws with an attached small spoon.

Hilea wandered by carrying a tray of her own. There were a dozen brandy snifters each with several ounces of dark amber liquid.  “This is a recipe, I have had good luck with in the past. It is an apricot brandy. Eighty-seven proof and distilled this morning. Placing it on the nearby bar top, she grabbed one for herself and handed one to Caela. It did pack a punch but had a nice finish with a bit of tartness.

Hina leaned against the bar, just looking around for now.

“Who ever did the decorating in here certainly has an eye for it.” she commented.

“It is pretty, isn’t it…”, Saffiya nodded. “Certainly an upgrade from the Cupertino.”

Hilea offered, “I would credit many but the group leader was Caela.” 

“Caela balked, ”Hey now. I had people coming and going for days in here.” 

“Ah I see… group effort then?” Hina asked.

“I have to agree with that.” Caela countered. “Really, people walked in and I just keept pointing at things to be rearranged until it looked right. ”

Hina nodded.

“Well, it was a good effort then.” she complimented, smiling. Awkward conversation was one of her specialties. She looked over to Hilea.

“Commander, I still need to get my medical intake done. When would be a good time for that? I don’t want to be a inconvenience to sickbay.” she asked.

She was sure Saffiya wouldn’t be happy to hear that she hadn’t yet done her medical intake. But she also couldn’t possibly be surprised. And she was right. Saffiya didn’t look particularly pleased. 

Hilea turned quickly assessing her as a patient. Old habits die hard and now had renewed purpose. “Stop by tomorrow during the morning shift,” Hilea said sipping her Mimosa. “Medical has been busy, but we can easily fit you in. Ten minutes at most, Lieutenant.” She paused then added. “I appreciate the timeliness. Easier to fix you later if I know what the puzzle looks like.” 

Hina thought, considering what she still had left to do in engineering and when things would be best.

“Yea, I think that time should work.” Hina confirmed, nodding. “I’ll be there then.” she added.

“Good. Now less shop talk, more Ale, politics, or whatever compatible analog we can find to make life warmer.” Hilea added. 

Hina nodded.

Hilea returned to her drink, still enjoying the orange mixture

Saffiya tried hers, and found that she had made a good choice by letting Caela make the choice for her. “So.”, she said to Hina. “I hear a lot of crew from the Cupertino has moved over to the USS Callisto.”

She wasn’t sure if that qualified as shop-talk or small-talk, but she was willing to take that chance. 

“Oh did they? Callisto… if I rememeber right thats one of Jupiter’s moons, so a Luna-class?  Well that must be a nice upgrade for them. ” she stated.

Saffiya looked at Hilea and explained: “My old ship. The crew was pretty tight-knit, not in terms of romantic relationships – from what I could tell – but they are friends. So from what I understand, one transfer prompted the next, and so on.”

“So the Elements blessed you with Fire and who doesn’t like being around Fire.” Hilea offered, in context with what was Rihannsu religion.

Saffiya laughed. “Oh I have been there for about a month, not longer, so I very much doubt me leaving prompted that major shift.” She omitted the fact that she had, however, dragged Hina along to the Valkyrie. Saffy sipped from her drink, then considered. “But I am interested, if it’s not too much of a personal question to ask – are there people here you would leave for, or leave with? Or maybe came for?”

There were couples on board, but they were few.

“I have had close comrades during special times, but no one that close in the recent decades. No one I would trust my secret name with.” Hilea offered. “Romantic relationships as a political dissident can get very dangerous.” Hilea stretched and cracked her neck at the same time.

Hina kept quiet. She knew no one on the ship short of Saffiya, and had been dragged there by her. Though, it was a willing dragging at the very least.

Later

Getting up on the small stage in one of the corners, Riordan, picked up the microphone. “Hello, fellow Vahallan guests. Thanks for showing up tonight. I want this stage to be an open microphone night on occasion. In that vein, I have a few songs. Requests of course are considered but not guaranteed. “ He said smiling. Later, I plan to steal Commander t’Rehu for our practiced song.” He said nodding to Hilea. Strapping on the guitar Riordan said, “Let’s kick this into full impulse at least An ancient but great song “Sultans of Swing.” Energetic blues came from his electric guitar as the trio of crew played.

You get a shiver in the dark, it’s raining in the park, but meantime
South of the river, you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowing Dixie, double-four time
You feel alright when you hear that music ring

Shahr stepped into the lounge, and paused. Everyone was dressed… very formally. He’d had the replicator make him a suit in a civilian Andorian style. It would look fine – obviously not tailored – on Andor, but here, on a Federation ship? Didn’t quite blend in. Oh well, nothing to be done now. Making his way to the bar, Shahr waited patiently to catch the bartenders eye, then ordered. “Whiskey, neat. Something peaty, I don’t know what you carry back there.” Shahr demanded curtly. Then he had to remind himself where he was. “Uh, please. Thank you.” Shahr sipped his drink, enjoying the strange human drink. He’d tried it on a dare when graduating from OCS, and much to his delight, found it very much agreed with his taste buds. Shahr looked around for a familiar face. It felt like he’d been onboard for barely a minute, how was he supposed to mingle with the crew?

Caela came over and touched the man’s arm with a warm smile. “I got you, Sugar.” She retrieved a marble Collins glass, pouring several fingers of orange-amber liquid. “A nice single malt. Gotta appreciate someone who knows what they want. She handed him the drink. ”I’m Caela, this is my place now, effectively. If you need something, ask.” Offering a genuine open wide smile, her green eyes brightening in response.

Shahr gratefully accepted the glass, swirled it, and took a sip. It burned perfectly, and he thanked Caela again. “This is nice. It has a fire to it. I think it would be appreciated back home. You don’t have to wear a uniform? Or is this the uniform for your position?” It didn’t even occur to Shahr that this woman could be a civilian, working here on a military starship.

Hearing the question. “Nope. I get to work here. Pretty sweet gig. Plus with a replicator in my quarters and all my old dresses, I’m set for clothing. Unless maybe you have a thing for women in uniform? No shame in that.” She responded. 

Then added. “My brother Riordan on the stage with the guitar is a Chief Petty Officer, and I wanted to take a vacation from the Starliner cruise circuit. So I don’t have to sing for my supper anymore. Though for a special friend, or request, it could happen under the right circumstances.”

Shahr blushed slightly at Caela’s question about women in uniform. Good thing his blue skin hid it fairly well. “I, well, uniforms are fine? I only asked because there are no civilians serving on ship in the Imperial Guard.” Then, realizing she was probably engaging in some light teasing, Shahr said more confidently “Truth be told, I did not date while a member of the IG. Everyone is very competitive, and it is hard to trust your partner won’t betray you for a career advantage. As for my time in the Federation, well, I’m still learning the social structures here. My roommate at OCS said I was too brusk. I’m working on it.”

“Well, that single malt should sand off any rough edges,” Caela said. “Besides, people tend to take themselves too seriously. Just loosen up. She placed a warm hand softly on his chest. ”I think you’ll be just fine.” She said with a wink.” 

Shahr gulped. “Loosen the edges, will do. I mean, sand them off. Thank you.” Shahr nodded quickly, sipped his whiskey, and walked away to hide his once-more red cheeks. Maybe he’d mingle and practice socializing. Only a handful of people even knew who he was, so this was a good opportunity to work on his first contact protocol. Ha. Shahr chuckled at his private joke, then looked for an opening.

Jaxom had been unsure what to wear, knowing a uniform would kill the social feeling of the gathering, but not really having much experience with more formal wear. At the end he’d decided for something midway. So he’d worn a nice knit sweater, with well cut pants. 
Hearing a familiar voice, he turned to see Hilea singing an old earth song, and wearing a green dress that made him realize he’d picked comfort more than style. 

Seeing the steward, bartender, to be honest he wasn’t sure; but they were busy, he picked a chair where he’d be nearby for a drink, but was content to watch the band play. Wondering who the male performer was, appreciating the timbre he had. 
 

Wrapping up the song, Riordan leaned into the microphone at the applause. “Thanks. Again, I’m Riordan, though I work in damage control, you can catch me in here from time to time. ”And the lovely Hilea loaning us her voice. Now if we can get a bit more applause and see if we can coax her to tickle the keyboards for the next song?” Hands clapped, Hilea bowed and walked to the keyboard. “Just like we practiced. ‘The Way It Is.’ ”

With a bit of ice melted from the evening, Hilea put her best effort into the song. Hands with long fingers flew firmly and meaningfully as she began the intense backdrop the song required. Her head bopped along as the song progressed up and down the chord progressions. Hilea was appreciative of the thought that went into the song.

Standing in line, marking time
Waiting for the welfare dime
‘Cause they can’t buy a job
The man in the silk suit hurries by
As he catches the poor old lady’s eyes
Just for fun he says, get a job
 

That’s just the way it is
Some things will never change
That’s just the way it is
Ah, but don’t you believe them

Captain Saffiya Nassar reclined in her chair. It was a good chair, but she had been sitting in it far too long over the past days in which the Valkyrie had been given time for the crew to unwind, and the Captain to get aquatinted with her new assignment. And ‘getting aquatinted with her new assignment’ in this case mostly meant mountains of PADDwork that had Saffiya reconsider whether she really wanted to be the Captain of anything – more than once. 

But nothing lasts forever, and this brief shore leave wasn’t an exception. They had received new orders, and while Saffiya was sure that she wasn’t the only one who would have minded the break to be extended just a few days, the crew had sprung into action. 

Captain’s Log, Stardate 2401.11.02

The Valkyrie is en route to investigate a signal believed to be of extragalactic origin. Civilian vessels have reported encounters with a ship, though those reports are inconclusive and range from the reasonable to the widely fantastical. There has been no successful attempt on communication, and Starfleet Intelligence suspects that any new lifeforms or occurrences may be tied to the subspace apertures that appeared following the recent surge in cosmic activity. It is possible they were caught in one of these anomalies and are stranded here, and if so, they could pose both an opportunity and a danger.
Our primary objective is to make contact, ascertain the nature of this visitor, and determine how to safely return them to their region of space.

It would be a good opportunity for her new Executive Officer to prove herself, and for the new members of her crew to learn to work together. It would also have been a great opportunity for their diplomatic officers, but a recent shift in the department had left it in a bit of disarray. Not a terribly great starting point, but they would manage. 

And, after all, who of them wouldn’t be excited at the idea of a first contact with a brand new species?

Lieutenant Sienna Frisco sat in her office.  The morning was starting, and her requisite coffee was on the desk as she worked through the messages, notices, and updates crossing her desk as both XO and CMO.  She tapped at her console, “Chief Frisco to Lieutenant Commander t’Rehu – can I see you in my office, please?”

“Aye Commander. I will be there shortly.”  Getting up, she advised the staff she needed to step out to see Chief Frisco. Walking out she hit the turbo lift, Padd in hand. 

Frisco waited, tapping through several notes that had come in at night.  Two departments needed to be followed up on their reports, and another needed to be reminded to do them.  She glanced up as the door opened.

Hilea stood the requisite number of steps from the desk; old Romulan habits die hard. She relaxed a bit, “How can I help you, Lieutenant?”

Sienna relaxed. “I wanted to check in with you, Lieutenant Commander. I was here and then reassigned…and now I’m back. I’ve also been tasked with the XO role.  It’s not ideal having to manage two positions at once.”  She asked, “I wanted to gauge your interest in eventually stepping into the role of Deputy Chief of Medical…and eventually earning the chief position.”

Backing up to the chair, she sat down as she thought about the offer. The Captain had said it was a possibility. “I would welcome the opportunity. Logistics in Medical is only slightly less irritating than Operations.” Hilea said with a tiny smile. 

“The move is welcome. I do miss the patient interactions. Something my younger self never could have said. However, with the recent accreditation of my former Medical license, there is a small mountain of catch-up on medical procedures.”  Hilea offered. Then added, “It occurs to me with the recent personnel shuffle, that we will need to share files. We each have things the other needs.”

Frisco kept her smile thin but conciliatory, “For the moment, you’ll have the access of a ranked medical officer within the scope of a medical officer’s duties.  As we work through bringing you up to date on procedures and processes, we’ll evaluate your standing for the Deputy Chief position.”  She paused.  The next question was one that she’d had since returning to the Valkyrie.  “One small matter.  At the moment, you outrank me within the system – a lieutenant commander to my lieutenant.”

“Following lawful orders presents no issues, Lieutenant. Also having been Ops Officer, and this shuffle, our thoughts are one, so to speak.” Hilea said. “I believe you should ask for a promotion, brevet or otherwise, considering your newfound responsibilities.” 

Sienna chuckled, “They weren’t newfound as much as newtold.  As for asking for a promotion, that’ll come with time.  I ask because it’s unusual, and I know little about you beyond your dossier.  Given time, we’ll figure each other out.  Until then, expect me to be asking a lot of questions.”

Hilea managed to hide her surprise, but said honestly, “That was not the direction I thought that question was going to take considering the rapid rise of your career.” She got up and used the replicator after asking. Sipping her chai tea, she offered, “Helping you would be an honor, Sienna.” Pausing to take a sip, she added, “Of course, the reciprocal will be true about the medical side of this deal.” 

Frisco held up her cup in agreement, “Welcome to sickbay, land of the questions.  As advanced as we are in 2401, there’s still plenty of mystery and unknowns to understand – human, alien, and otherwise. ”  She leaned back in her chair, “It makes you think about the age of frontier medicine – those first encounters with the unknown.  An entire understanding of how medicine works…blown apart by the discovery that the universe was much bigger than we could have imagined.”  She downed the last of her drink, “Still plenty out there to discover, I suppose.”

“Agreed,” Hilea said. “I do miss dabbling with organic chemistry. Though sometimes being on the frontier means riding the knife edge.” She said, thinking of her time in the Declared Dead during the Dominion War. He comm badge chirped.

“Hilea, Chief K’Mosin is going into labor, not a drill this time. We could use the muscle. She’s a big Caitian.” Sylvanna’s voice was calm but had an edge of concentrated focus Hilea detected.

“On my way. Hilea out.” Tapping her comm badge to close the connection, she drained most of the tea and recycled the mug. Turning to Sienna, she said, “Life waits for no one.” Hilea said with a smile, her face showing the slightest hint of concentration as her forehead wrinkled.

 “Remind me when we are both off duty what humans do to unwind. Something that takes energy to do. I find myself wanting a challenge.” Hilea said, then added, “Thank you, Sienna.” 

Frisco smiled slyly, “Careful what you wish for, Hilea.  Good luck with Chief K’Mosin.”  As the door closed behind the new medical officer, Sienna sighed.  Life waited for no one, indeed.

“You know you can leave the work at home, right?”  The bartender indicated the three PADDs that sat on his bar.  The Chief Medical Officer and XO sat on the stool, her eyes scanning the screens as she tapped at various points. 

Lieutenant Sienna Frisco rolled her eyes without looking up. “Did you ever work as a CMO or XO, Jack?”  She continued to work on the PADDs.

Jack Barton, all of twenty-five years old, blinked at the bite back she’d tossed at him.  He’d known her from a distance during her original assignment to the Valkyrie.  He’d never been close enough to test the waters from whence she drank.  He wondered if he should have just let her work and tended the bar.   “No, I have not, Lieutenant.  I have seen my share of officers burn out or have uneven life balance.”

Frisco closed her eyes and sighed before looking up and opening her eyes to stare at him, “It’s part of your job to make sure none of the senior staff is losing their minds or going off the rails.  You don’t know me much, and I know what I’ve read on your dossier, even the ugly bits.  If you’re going to serve in the senior staff lounge, I recommend getting to know the person you’re daring to give life advice to before you exposit on their life choices.”

Jack opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again – like a fish gasping for air.  He settled on, “You’re right, lieutenant.”

She went back to work on her PADDs.  Ten minutes later, as he was working through a long overdue inventory, she asked as she continued to work, “So, Mr. Barton…where are you from?”  His blank look as he turned to face her required her to explain, “If we’re going to function as a team – bartender and XO – we should start that whole getting to know each other pretty quickly.  So, where are you from?”

Two PADDs were stacked after being completed. She had learned that Jack hailed from a farming community in Nebraska and that he’d learned to play the trombone in middle school. They’d bonded over their experiences playing band instruments in middle and high school. She went to work on the last PADD as the main door to the lounge swung open, and the captain walked in.

Saffiya usually preferred Valhalla. She wanted to be present and approachable to the crew, and thus far it had blessed her with a few very interesting conversations with the junior officers and crewmen she would usually not get the opportunity to talk to. But it was also exhausting, and today, Saffiya didn’t feel like doing exhausting. 

She had work with her, the last few PADDs that needing sorting through before their next mission, and it wasn’t the first time she longed to be back in Engineering, where the PADDwork was only a small part of the job – and something she had a habit of delegating. 

As she entered the lounge, she as glad that there were only a few people around, and most of them probably didn’t have the need to make conversation. She made her way to the bar, noting Frisco there. She glanced at the PADD the woman was working on, and then at the two other ones that were either completed, or pending review. 

Unaware of the conversation the Lieutenant had with the bartender only a short while ago, she selected a stool at a reasonable distance from the XO-CMO. “You know there is something called work-life balance, yes?”, she commented with a smirk, very well aware that she was equally miserable at it. 

Frisco chuckled as Jack Barton’s face blanched, and he increased the ferocity of the cleaning he was giving to the glasses.  “Mr. Barton asked the same thing.”  She tapped at the PADD, satisfied with the report, “We decided to get to know each other first.”  She handed Captain Nassar the completed report, “Managed to get our department reports completed – including my own.  Engineering had a list, but thankfully, we have a former engineer with four rank pips.  I’ve handled what I could from science and medical – tactical and operations have a few more requisitions, but we should have those within the week.”

The Captain took the PADD and glanced first at this additional bit of work, then at her XO. “You know, I was  thinking I was almost done. Thank you for this gentle nod into direction reality.” 

Frisco smiled and ordered a hard cider, “Seems like we have to face reality a lot more these days.”  The unspoken ‘Frontier Day’ reference remained unspoken.  Filling positions was just one of the issues it had created.  “Anytime you need a reality check, Doc Frisco’s your woman.”

“I would like to note that I, too, am doing more than one job at the moment; I think we can settle with saying we each do one and a half.” She sighed and ordered a drink – any drink. “But it’s temporary. Unless there are any concerns regarding your up-and-coming replacement for sickbay.” It wasn’t quite a question, mostly because Saffiya believed that Frisco would already have approached her if there were, but she still wanted to leave an opportunity to voice her discomfort.

Sienna drummed her fingers on the bar, “She’s got plenty of catch-up work to do, and I made the notes about having the counselor have a chat or two, given her dossier history.  She wants to do right by medical, which is what matters to me.”  She turned to face her CO, “I’ve done what reviews I can through the lenses of medical and command – crew is as ready as they’re going to be.”  She sipped at her cider, “The question is – are you?”  She explained, “You eminently qualified, captain.  I’m asking more about your feelings in between the lines.”

Saffiya raised an eyebrow. Out of all the questions Frisco could have possibly asked her, this was one she hadn’t expected. And frankly, she’d rather discuss the matter of her qualification than her feelings. Truth was, she didn’t really have time to have any feelings as of yet, and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to have them in the first place.

The Captain shifted her in her chair, considering her response. “As… ready as I’m going to be.”, she said vaguely, mirroring what Frisco had said regarding the crew. “How about yourself?”

Frisco sat on the question with a pregnant pause, “I don’t know what possessed them to slot me as an XO.  My dossier reads like a dissertation on a doctor’s excellence.  I get along with most folks, so maybe that was it.”  She accepted a refill from Barton, “That or they saw that I’ve been around a bit, and they’ve got a shortage of command-ready executive officers.”  She reflected on Saffiya’s reaction to her question earlier, “You gave me a look when I asked you that question.”  The XO asked, “You struggling in the qualifications shuttle along with me?”

Saffiya rolled her eyes. “No, not really. Just like you really should not. I mean, with all the stuff the galaxy throws at us, can you really be a hundred percent qualified? Isn’t there always going to be some Vulcan who would be better at it than you are, no matter what you do?”, she sighed and sipped from her drink. “It’s a step up for both of us. Outside our comfort zone. But then, I am sure the last CO-XO team was beyond qualified, and they only stuck around for a few months. So maybe your people skills are exactly what is needed.”

Sienna laughed out loud, “I lived with plenty of those Vulcans growing up.  I loved them and tolerated them equally.  Sometimes more.  Sometimes less.”  She stood from the stool, checking her watch, “I’m up for duty in the morning.”  She picked up her PADDs, “I think I’m going to like it here, captain.”  She headed out the door, destined for some long-overdue rest.

Saffiya sighed. She did like it here, but she was reluctant about liking it too much. After all, there was a reason her time on the Cupertino had been so short… 

Shahr left the meeting with his department head, armed with his first official duty onboard the Valkyrie: coordinate with engineering to find a way to to shield the ship against some subspace distortions. They were about to answer a distress call, and couldn’t risk getting caught in the same problem the civilian vessel was in. Shahr entered the turbolift.

“Engineering.”

He took the moment to recall what he knew about subspace and how it interacted with real space. Under normal circumstances, subspace distortions were just indicative of warp travel. But, he was aware that if they were rough enough, vacuoles could form, which could either let you travel vast distances, or blow up your ship. Not a great risk to run.

Stepping out of the turbolift, Shahr walked a short way down the hallway, entered engineering, and looked about. Glancing at his padd, he saw he was supposed to coordinate with a Lieutenant Morishita. He stopped a passing crewman. “Excuse me, I’m looking for Lieutenant Morishita?” The crewman pointed, and Shahr made his way to her.

“Good morning Lieutenant, I’m Ensign Th’thollar. Shahr is fine, if you’d prefer. I believe we’re working together on this subspace distortion problem.” Shahr paused, extending his hand in the typical human fashion he’d learned on Earth.

Hina bumped her head on the console she had been working under at the sound of another voice. The Valkyrie was being given its first mission and she was making sure everything was in shape. She hadn’t been in on any briefings so she was just keeping busy until someone needed her for something. That was the way she wanted it though, briefings were for department heads and she wasn’t one of those.

She hauled herself out from under the console rubbing her head, finally seeing the Andorian that had addressed her, holding his hand out. He he mentioned a name? She blinked, quickly trying to recall what he had said. Oh right, ‘Ensign Th’thollar’. And then something about subspace distortions.

“Good morning, Ensign Th’thollar.” she greeted in return, shaking his hand. “You said something about subspace distortions?” she asked, expecting the teal collared man to know a bit more than she did at this point.

“I’m more of a photonics specialist, so subspace is a bit outside my wheelhouse, but I understand the science behind its interactions with normal space. My first thought was maybe mapping the distortions and somehow generating an inversion to cancel them out?” Shahr upturned the last part to make it into a question. Even if the lieutenant said yes, Shahr didn’t have the slightest clue how to make that happen. Yet. “If we knew the cause of the distortions, it might help too. What are you thinking, ma’am?”

She paused, holding up a hand.

“First… I’m much to young for “ma’am”. ‘Lieutenant’ is fine. Second… back up for a moment and bring me up to speed. What subspace distortions?” she asked

“Yes lieutenant. Ah, first, we picked up a distress call from some civilian ship. They aren’t answering hails, and there are no life signs that we can detect from here. But they seem to be caught in some sort of subspace distortion field.” Shahr paused a moment to collect his thoughts. “You probably recall a few months ago there was that galaxy-wide opening of random, subspace apertures? The ones that led to a massive labyrinth of tunnels? Well, I believe those have closed, but this may be an echo of that event. I came straight from my department briefing, so I haven’t had a chance to review the fleet reports yet. We can do that together if you’d like.” Shahr gestured to an empty console nearby. ”We can compare sensor logs from other ships to what we’ve collected of this event. If there’s a correlation, that will be of considerable help.”

She nodded, reaching over to the console to bring up whatever data had been sent for her to look at. She brought up the sensor scans, frowning. The Captain wanted them to go in there and rescue a civilian ship? She was going to have to have a talk with Saffiya, this was not what she was promised.

“I see I see…” she said. “Your idea is a good one… but that field is much too dense to be able to cancel out all of them… and they’re quite large distortions.” she commented, bringing up an individual scan of one of them.

“We might need to find a way to modulate the shields to deflect them out of the way as well. Literally push them aside.” she explained.

Shahr rubbed the back of his neck as he read through the sensor data in front of him. “Right, ok. Push them… What about overlapping the shields with some kind of inverse warp bubble? Instead of contracting space around us, we could stretch it out? I think that would give us some breathing room to maneuver, if we can find the right modulation.”

Hina considered for a momented, tapping a finger on the base of the console.

“Yea that should be something we can accomplish.” she agreed.

“I’m glad to hear that at least. I had a small fear that ‘inverse warp bubble’ was a joke some of the engineers were playing on me back at OCS.” Shahr breathed a small sigh of relief. “Another problem we’ll have to deal with is reaction time. I don’t think I can relay sensor data to you fast enough to modulate the shields unless we’re on like, maneuvering thrusters. Maybe we can set up a sensor input directly into the shield modulation?”

“Nope… not a joke… just not always applicable.” she said, smiling.

“No, I probably couldn’t modulate the shields fast enough even if you could relay the data fast enough. So yea we’ll have to tie directly into the sensor readouts and let the computer handle it.” she agreed.

“Ok, cool cool. This sounds good.” Shahr snapped his fingers awkwardly, wondering if an order was coming. This was kind of his first official duty on a Federation starship, and he was about to see how they do business…

Hina tapped her chin.

“Well we’ll need to set up the inverse warp bubble and link the shield modulation to the sensor systems. Then we should be good to go for when we arrive.” she said.

“Right.” Shahr’s stress level dropped once he realized the Lieutenant wasn’t about to order him to perform some maintenance he had no idea how to do. “I, uh, actually I’m pretty sure I can write that subroutine. But, I have no idea how to handle warp bubbles. Unless they’re holographic warp bubbles.” Shahr clapped his mouth shut. Apparently he was a nervous talker? This new job was bringing out an interesting side of him.

Hina raised an eyebrow shrugging.

“I can handle the warp bubble no problem.

“Ok great. I am going to get to work. Also, I’m going to put in a data request for sensor logs regarding the subspace tunneling. Just in case there’s something strange to be found.” Shahr nodded.

“Sounds good… that should be useful.” Hina commented, accessing the warp subsystems from her console.

Shahr took a moment to orient himself to the console layouts here in Engineering, then generated a new script to start building the communication subroutine.

“Did you happen to be told how long we have until all this is needed?” she asked.

Shahr opened his mouth to answer, then realized he didn’t have an answer. “Actually, no. I mean, probably before we reach the civilian ship, but I don’t think we need it ready before then. Unless…” Shahr remembered he wasn’t in the IG anymore. Seemed like he was reminded of this multiple times daily. “How often do the senior officers like to review our work? Or, are we just trusted to have completed the job?”

Hina paused, considering. She didn’t really know how Commander Lorra would be but she knew Saffiya would probably be ok with things as long as they were finished by the time the ship arrived at the location of the distress call.

“So long as we’re ready by the time our solution is needed, that should be fine.” she said, shrugging. She turned her attention back to the console.

Shahr breathed a small sigh of relief. “Ok, that’s nice to hear. I appreciate the tacit trust.” That seemed like the end of the conversation, and he had some work to do. Turning back to the console, he smiled inwardly and started programming.

The USS Valkyrie sped through space on its way.  Lieutenant Sienna Frisco sat in the center chair, working through the voluminous reports she was responsible for as executive officer and chief medical officer.  Captain Nassar was in her ready room, and Sienna had taken the CONN two hours ago.  She was impressed with the new CO.  She was hopeful this crew would stick together and stick together well.

At the tactical conn Lieutenant Taylor Krazansky noticed something. Adjusting her sensor readings she glanced up, the science department had not yet made note of it. It was likely not interesting to them, but it seemed significant. She glanced at Lieutenant Frisco in the centre chair. It was a signal, not a reading. A distress signal, that much was certain. She supposed it was time to mention it.

“Lieutenant,” Krazansky said, breaking the hushed silence on the bridge as everyone went about their duties, “We have a distress signal. It seems to be automated. Shall I put it through?”

Sienna stood from the center chair and walked up the gangway towards the tactical officer, “Any details besides the audio distress signal?”  Caution was her primary setting, which had served her well so far.

Kazansky shook her head, “No, there is no response other than this distress signal, possibly because of the subspace distortions. They’re also blocking scans of the area. I’m assuming from this that the signal is automated, but I can’t be sure. The whole area is shrouded. I’ll let science weigh in if there’s more, but from a tactical perspective, any closer, we’ll be going in blind.”

The XO pursed her lips, “Let’s hear it.”

The channel squawked open, and a brief string of words shouted before the static took over and ruined the remaining audio.  Frisco chewed on her bottom lip, “Helm, plot a preliminary course at maximum warp, but hold on engaging.” She tapped her badge, “Captain to the bridge.” She turned to the tactical officer, “Send what data you have to me.  Keep our sensors hot – I don’t like how this is starting.”

Lieutenant Kazansky nodded, running a continuous scan of the region, no matter how little good that managed to do currently. If they were going to get jumped (metaphorically) they’d best be ready to respond. 

The doors to the bridge slid open and Saffiya stepped inside. “What’s happening?”, she asked Frisco while glancing at Kazansky’s console as soon as she had reached it.  Sienna gave the rundown and why she’d decided to call in the captain who replied, “Good call.”, she nodded appreciatively and looked at the view screen. “Those sensor readings are basically nothing, is there any way to get visibility? I’d like to see what we are dealing with.”

“Maybe if we send off a probe, closer we might be able to see something, and not be tactically exposed,” suggested the Security Chief.
 
Saffiya nodded. “A survey of the region and as much information as we can gather on the ship itself.”

Sienna turned to Krazansky, “Prepare a probe and launch.  Let’s keep an eye on this thing.”  She couldn’t shake the question that something didn’t feel right.  A distress call that was too scrambled.  A sector of space bouncing the readings back.  What was at the site of the call?

Setting about sending off the probe, Krazansky had to liaise with the science department, since probes were their specialty. It launched and began sending back data, nothing conclusive but it all led them to feel they were not quite as blind as they had been.

Saffiya allowed her Chief Security Officer to work and decided it was best to inform the other department heads of a potential rescue effort. She glanced at Frisco. As much as she would have appreciated the woman in sickbay to make sure things went smoothly, she also needed an XO. It was, perhaps, a good opportunity to let t’Rehu prove herself. 

The minutes in which Kazansky calibrated the probes and assayed the preliminary results were tense, and Saffiya exchanged several glances with Frisco. This was very much new for both of them. 

“We’re still not getting a perfectly clear picture,” Krazanky said, “My recommendation is at this point we’re just going to have to go in. We can keep our shields up and stay alert. If this is a trap, well we’ll have to spring it to find it. We’re not going to see anything more sitting outside.”

“Subspace distortions?”, asked Saffiya. 

Sienna moved to the science console at the edge of the bridge, tapping quickly at the console, “Nothing outside of the norms, captain…but I’m going to urge caution.  Whatever is there wants us to go there – there’s enough unknown and mysterious readings to pull an entire science division.”  She returned to the console, “Lieutenant Kazansky is correct – the only way to verify is to get closer.”  Another tap of the console, “We can be there at maximum warp in two hours.”

“Then adjust course.”, the Captain nodded. “Inform sickbay, and I want someone from Engineering and Science to look at these readings. I’d rather minimise the amount and severity of surprises.” 

This… once more wasn’t ideal, and it was a somewhat uncomfortable reminder as to how Saffiya’s last mission on the Cupertino had started. Pretty much exactly like that, and then they were stuck in subspace with a bunch of Cardassians. Hopefully this potential rescue mission was a little less eventful… 

After a long string of patients and emergencies, Hilea went to the lounge for a meal break. A large bowl of spicy beef with noodles finally curbed her hunger. However, she made a mental note to find out who this General Tso was and why there were so many recipes in his name. 

Suddenly Hilea’s commbadge chirped as the ship went to yellow alert. Getting up with purpose, she tapped her badge at the same time. It was Janice. “Hilea, the Bridge just informed us of a distress signal they received. Details are still coming in.”

Hilea offered as she went through the door. “Start accessing the emergency triage packs. You know what to do, I will be there shortly. t’Rehu out” 

Sil stepped up through Sickbay as ordered. He was surprised to be sent there, especially during a yellow alert, but over the years he had learned to follow orders, even if he thought he would be more useful elsewhere.

When he arrived Commander Hilea was in a com link with another officer, so he stood quietly waiting for the communication to end.
Once it did he took a step forward.

“Commander Hilea? Vitor Silveira, tactical officer. I was instructed to meet you and Lieutenant Nadir so I could help with the first response.”

Hilea glanced up at the new face, one eyebrow raising slightly at the familiar name being used. She didn’t mind it, it was just irregular. “Well Lieutenant FarTooThin, ” she said with a quip and wry smile—a rarity. Let’s start with Hilea or Commander. Hilea is my first name.”

Not the best first impression to a senior officer so Sil shrugged, offering the Commander a smile.

“Well, I wasn’t given any other details. To me rapid response and first response are synonyms. Please correct me if I am mistaken. And anyway, how may I help?”

Hilea, “Let us hope that is the worst of both our days today. “ She said plainly with noted sarcasm. ”What we will need are staging areas. Triage setups in a cargo or two. Prestaging of supplies, such as medkits, food, water, and muscle for the larger items.”

Jaxom had been surprised to be called to the Sickbay, as the medical supplies and their use were much more under the direction of Medical than it was his department. Still, he knew the call wouldn’t have gone out for no reason, and as he approached the other two he heard Hilea explaining some of the situation. 

“Commander Hilea, nice to see you again. Silveira, surprised to see Tactical here, but sounds like things are going to get a little dicey,” he said, greeting them both as he thought of the list he had overheard her stating. 

“Commander, I know the general idea of triage. Sort the wounded into categories, and take the worst first. How important is proximity and access to Sickbay? That will narrow down some of the Cargo bay options,” he reasoned aloud, “And is this a one-time thing, or are we hoping to have a plan we can enact whenever we need to?” he finished, knowing that keeping a Cargo Bay conversion ready would require long term planning. 

“Yes, but we don’t know what we are dealing with yet. So best to set up two general areas. Then plan on being flexible. Think good thoughts it isn’t something more sinister.” Hilea said. 

Sil nodded in acknowledgment of Lieutenant Nadir arrival and waited for the Commander’s answer, before chiming in his own question.

“And what sort of supplies and personnel are needed for such triage? Are Medical tricorders enough? And a team composed of one Doctor and Nurse is enough or do we need to recruit more people?”

“I would form a secondary list of personnel and have them on standby as needed.” Hilea added.

Even being the lowest ranked, and new arrival, Sil was never afraid to speak out his thoughts.
Or recognize his weaknesses. And this type of planning was putting him on unfamiliar grounds.

“Forgive me, but if it was phasers and torpedoes I would be better suited. I see it through a tactical perspective. Forces and supplies first. Battlefield and tactics next.

Hilea looked at Sil for a moment, and offered, “It’s still the same battle. Logistics and attrition. You and your personnel are my infantry. Mostly what I need are smart listeners and muscle. The Medical team will have their hands full with patients. Things are going to be worse before they get better. As simple as it sounds mostly we point, you move. From a tactical standpoint, perhaps a small third retreat area for recovered patients, we may even need to impose on the Vahalla. Thank you for the suggestion, Lieutenant.” 

“Ops can help with that as well. Depending on the situation that leads to Sickbay overflowing enough to need these setups, Tactical crew could well be occupied. It sounds like porter work, and over time we could see about giving the secondary list of crew some basic med training.” Jaxom added to the growing picture of the response. 

Sil nodded to them. He had a PADD in hand and began to take notes.

Hilea looked at Sil paused and then added, “Please ensure everyone rated gets a med-kit, extra hypo refills. A few extras around secured as backup is a good idea. Get the lounge to prepare a few large tables with beverages so the replicators stay free for medical use.” 

“I will look at requisitioning some simple field supplies as well to keep in the Cargo bay marked for this usage. Stretchers, emergency cots would likely all help keeping the patients more comfortable and portable. And if we spend the energy now, those supplies won’t need to be replicated when the time comes. For my part, the biggest thing is going to be making sure the space can become available in a hurry,” Jaxom said, stifling a sigh as he could see the pending shuffling of cargo ahead. 

Hilea thought about it. “Energy for the moment is expendable. Go to the large format replicator, and set up a relay with transporter pattern enhancers. That way two people can make and beam the palleted supplies straight to the cargo bays. You have my authorization.”

“I can get started on that right away Commander. I know just the pair to task with it, and it will give them a chance to practice some larger-scale logistics. After all, beaming to a cargo bay and moving it, won’t be much different than doing the same with pattern enhancers on a planetary surface. My biggest concern is how sterile are you going to need this to be. I know enough medical to know infection and viruses can be a concern, but that is not something easily accomplished in a Cargo Bay,” Jaxom responded, making notations on his PADD as he thought of how to adjust the shift orders to free up a pair of midshipmen. 

Hilea shook her head, “I am more worried about the incoming potential germs than what is currently in the cargo bay. However, coordinate with my nurses and they will be running a sanitizing sweep. Also, we ensure both cargo bays have positive ventilation and filtered air.” She said to Jaxom. “This is all standard operation procedure, Lieutenant.” She could sense his anxiety and attempted to relieve the tension. “I’ve been doing this for decades. We’ll be fine. Just have everyone attentive and listen to my nurses. Couldn’t do this without them.”

Sil nodded. It was good to know that Commander t’Rehu trusted her staff. Lieutenant Nadir on the other hand was way ahead of him, but that was how it should be.  After he was likely more than used to things like this in Operations.

He didn’t had much to add so he simply took the notes, keeping quiet.

“Decades of experience would be a definite leg up,” Jaxom replied, once again impressed with Hilea and the breadth of her service. At times it was easy to see her apparent youth, and forget the gap of experience between them. “Well, I will have to brush up on the procedures then, we definitely didn’t go over it on the Station. Still, Ops won’t let you down,” he said, turning the conversation back to the matter at hand. He noticed Silveira was quiet, but didn’t know if that was his usual manner. He hadn’t had much of a chance to work with many of the crew, but knew he should rectify that when he had time. 

“Best advice? Delegate. These people knew what to do or they would not be here.” Hilea offered genuinely. “It’s a simple matter of assigning tasks and following up as needed. As long as you are willing to do anything you would assign them, I find the crew is more agreeable to any orders.”

Sil nodded as he finished adding notes to the PADD, before raising his head to Commander  t’Rehu and Lieutenant Nadir.

“Time to dip into work then…” With everything apparently organized, they could start to get ready. 

Shahr Th’thollar ended yet another duty shift feeling frustrated. One might not know it, as he did his best to keep his face neutral, but it was there. He’d been doing his best to adjust to Federation ways, but everything was such a stark contrast to how the Imperial Guard operated. Shahr had always assumed the Federation, like the IG, was a military organization. It turns out, this is only sometimes true. Sure, they have ranks, and sometimes go to war, but in general, operations were fairly lax. At least, in comparison to the IG.

Sighing, Shahr realized he needed to vent to someone who might understand. He thought of sending a subspace letter to one of his old friends who had also left the IG for Starfleet, but then realized he didn’t need to go to such lengths. Shahr tapped his com badge. 

“Ensign Shahr to Lieutenant Commander t’Rehu.”

Tapping the button on her PADD, she responded, “t’Rehu here. Go ahead.”

“Would you happen to be free, sir? I am in need of some advice. I can come to you, wherever is convenient.”

Hilea ignored the ‘sir’ remark. Genders could be too fluid among races. She could hear the frustration in his voice and the fact that she outranked him by several orders of magnitude spoke volumes about his Fire, as her mother would have said. It was an interesting contrast to how others treated her. “I have nothing going on at the moment.” She offered.

“Thank you. I’m on my way.”

Shahr hesitated before leaving. He was officially off-duty, so he should change, right? He’d worn his suit to Valhalla the other day, but other than workout gear, he pretty much stayed in uniform. Old habits. Shahr quickly changed into some civilian clothing his friends from OCS told him looked “casual enough” and set course for Hilea t’Rehu’s quarters.

Shahr stopped in the hallway and pressed the door chime, then waited politely for a response.

“Enter,” Hilea said.

“Good morning! I mean, evening? My apologies, I just switched off of night shift, and my sense of time hasn’t caught up to me yet.”

The room was warm. She hoped it wasn’t too warm. Compensating she had put on a thick dark green Karate Gi she favored since they were soft thick cotton and she had this lined in silk for warmth and additional comfort. 

The lighting was warm and medium. The overstuffed denim recliner and couch were on one side. Crossed Rihannsu swords are above and behind and attached to the wall. Several plants hung around the room filling the air with a light scent. A glass display case of daggers and other hand weapons was on the other wall. 

Hilea was at the replicator. “Can I get you something while I am here, Shahr?” She added, “Computer, large mug of Oolong tea.”

Shahr stepped into the room and immediately started sweating. “Oh, well, I’d love a srjula please. It’s a tea I programmed into the computer the other day.” It was a hot drink, but Shahr didn’t think an Andorian Sunset would be appropriate right now. He took a moment to look about the cabin, appreciating the weaponry he saw on display. 

Not quite ready to dive into his feelings, Shahr opted for some small talk first. “Have you used these blades, or are they decorative?” Shahr gestured to the Rihannsu above the couch.

Hilea retrieved the drink from the food slot and handed it to Shahr. “I have not used these blades in combat. Right now, they are decoration. But none functional things never made much sense to me. Please, make yourself comfortable” 

“Ah. Even as a pilot, I used to undergo extensive hand-to-hand combat training in the IG, but I’ve never actually had those skills put to the test.” Shahr sipped his tea. “I think I do alright with a Hrisal, but when does one really get the opportunity to use a blade these days? A borg invasion, maybe?” Shahr shuddered at the thought.

“When the distances are close enough for everything to be less effective,” Hilea added. “The blade skills are important only if you need them. Pray you do not.” 

“Well, I won’t beat around the bush any longer. I respectfully request some advice. As you know, I transferred from the Imperial Guard. It was… extremely militaristic, especially in comparison to Starfleet.” Shahr considered his next words. “I’m not complaining, mind you. I think, eventually, I will find my way here. But at the moment, I can’t see the path. I’m struggling with some of the informalities, and perhaps more importantly, I worry about damaging my career any time I want to suggest something that isn’t exactly what my superiors suggest.”

Shahr realized he’d been staring down, just swirling his tea. “You transferred from the Romulan Navy, yes? How did you manage the transition?”

Hilea chuckled once, a rarer event. “It helped that my parents were executed for Sedition and would have executed me had they been able to. As it was the front lines of the Dominion War were an education. I learned mostly that we have far more in common with each other than most of us are willing to admit. Especially societies such as ours.”

Consuming her tea, she stared thoughtfully out the nearby window for a minute. “I would suggest that the martial attitudes of our societies suggest that more aggressive behaviors are tolerated differently. Humans tend to be far more open, and we might use that data for more active approaches. They tend to care less about rank, status, or caste, than we would in our cultures.” Taking another sip, she added, “It will take time to adjust. There are times when the way things are done here still rubs me abrasively. Hilea offered, a tinge of grit in her voice if you listened hard.

“While a human would tell you to relax or chill out, my suggestion would be to find more creative ways to channel that energy, thus freeing you to be less forward with your crewmates. This reminds me, by the way, please do not call me Sir, unless I am in command, or you require retraining in hand to hand.” Hilea added with a head tilt and a wink. Finishing her tea, she recycled the mug. “Have you used a sword before?” She asked

Shahr took another look at the blades on the wall. “Yes, the Hrisal I mentioned before is an Andorian sword. I believe it’s similar to the human scimitar. Of course, experience on one blade doesn’t transfer 100% to another, but it helps.” Shahr looked back at the doctor. “Should we test the Hrisal against the Rihannsu?” The idea was exciting. Training against another person was always better than a hologram, and maybe he was making a friend. “I promise no more Sirs until you take command.”

“You would be hard-pressed to find someone in an active combat zone without a dangerous close-in weapon. However, that isn’t exactly what you came for.” She said, walking over to a nearby locked cabinet made from hardwood, brass, and exquisite lacquer finish. Taking out Collin’s glasses, she poured two fingers of Romulan Ale, the light making the blue liquid glow in the room lighting.

Turning around she handed one to Shahr. “Rare and getting rare. Not a great vintage but Ale should be a shared experience if possible. Many things in life have a polar opposite, learning to accept the discomfort, to get to the pleasure of it, is the trick.”

When Shahr took the glass, she held hers up, offering, “to new and interesting friends.”

Romulan ale! Shahr hadn’t had the chance to try it before. He graciously accepted the glass, and raised it in response to Hilea’s toast. “Here here.” He took a sip and smiled.

It had been a busy shift. Caela walked into the quarters she shared with her brother, spotting her custom hybrid bike. It was something the builders called a resto-mod. A tri-titanium framed bike, in a paperboy style, sat in the corner. The silver curved main tube had smaller runners on each side, something she had seen from historical records from the Twentieth Century.

Room-temperature superconducting motors sat in the center hub of each wheel. The drivetrain looked nearly conventional. However, the seal unit allowed the cycle to reach speeds that required nearly motorcycle-sized components for brakes, rims, and tires. The much fatter semi-commuter style tires had a pattern that could take street and dirt nearly equally.

A small display sat on the handlebars and could relay information to nearby devices. She hated the girls-styled models so this had the more aggressive men, though she had to swing her leg over. it was a small price to pay for more rigidity.

It had a power cell now, though she didn’t use it on the ship. It had taken her several arguments with her brother Riordan and a botched attempt at adding her own, to force him to comply.

Feeling the need, she changed into padded cycling shorts, a heavy-duty sports bra, and her paired sunglasses. The glasses had a Heads Up Display built in so that she could use everything hands-free. Tying her long copper hair into a pony-tailer, she added high-top sneakers and headed for the holodeck. Since it was getting late, the holodecks were starting to open.

Selecting a random wooded winded semi-paved greenway, it took Caela a moment to loosen up. Soon she had the tempo up where she wanted it, eighty RPM. It allowed her to work on her cardio and some strength training as the terrain changed uphill. Sweat started to build up on her skin, and she started to drain the first water bottle.

In the zone, she lost herself in the trip, and only realized how long she had been there when the door chime sounded.

Toweling off, she said, “Computer. Save performance data to my console and end the program.”

Walking out wheeling her bike next to her, she apologized to the waiting couple as she recovered her breathing. A long sonic shower later, she lay down and was fast asleep in minutes.

On the bridge, Captain Saffiya Nassar was feeling a little tense, and hoped that her crew either didn’t notice, or didn’t care, or felt just as nervous. She had sent an away team over to the civilian vessel they didn’t even have a name for, and could not do much more than waiting for preliminary reports on the situation on board. That the vessel hadn’t responded to their communication attempts was worrying, but no one wanted to jump to conclusions just yet.

She glanced at Frisco, who would probably have loved to cover the medical aspect but had to leave it to t’Rehu.

Sienna caught her captain’s eyes.  She had been feeling a creeping worry since they’d arrived.  While she was content, for the moment, to chalk it up to nerves, her gut hadn’t served her wrong in the past.  There were plenty of studies about how nerves, stress, and anxiety were a perfect storm for an officer’s failure to perform important duties when situations escalated.  It was why they’d trained them so hard in the academy and why, after Frontier Day, they had gone through more scenarios to improve their ability to handle the challenges.  She balanced her emotions carefully, “I don’t like it.”

Interrupted in her train of thought, Saffiya turned to Silveira. “What is it, Lieutenant?” she asked.

Sil appeared calm as he tapped in the Tactical console. It wasn’t his first time on bridge duty, but he couldn’t help himself to be a little excited. The Valkyrie was an amazing ship. But he kept his head in his task. He had the mysterious civilian vessel in range, and kept scanning for anything out of the ordinary. He raised his eyebrow when the tactical sensors displayed an anomaly. Double checking them before he spoke, his forehead was wrinkled when he had confirmation and raised his head to the Captain, right at the moment she had noticed him. “Captain I am registering subspace distortions across the ship.”

“Subspace distortions such as the ones that occurred before the apertures opened?”, she frowned, hoping very much that the answer was no. One subspace adventure per career was more than enough. Silveira probably realized because he had been there, too.

“Unknown at this point, Captain. They vary in size, but my sensors aren’t exactly calibrated for those kinds of details.”

Tactical sensors could target almost anything, from the size of a PADD on the surface of a planet to the biggest asteroid. But what they had in precision, they lacked in detail.

Sienna slipped out of her chair and moved to a station at the edge of the bridge where she worked the console, and she reported, “Recalibrating and retasking some of our sensors, captain.”  The screen’s data was adjusted.  The XO’s eyes widened, “Captain – those aren’t your run-of-the-mill distortions – the reason why the computer can’t make sense of them is because the readings aren’t making sense.”  She put the data on overlay on the screen, “We’re going to need better eyes, captain.”

“Get me Lorra up here, I want her to take a look.”, Saffiya decided. She would have preferred Hina – not because she doubted Lorra, but because she knew Hina quite well – but remembered that she had sent the woman to the civilian vessel.

Sienna grappled with the data as she waited for the better eyes.  She continued to retask and refocus the sensors, “Captain – despite not understanding the data, the computer models suggest a 75% chance these distortions are going to grow.  Rate and speed variables are too wide to settle on with any certainty.”

Moments later, Niala glided onto the bridge. Her steps were light but deliberate, and Jaxom was close behind. The low hum of the ship’s systems mingled with the rapid beeping of consoles, and the muted tension of the crew was palpable. Her eyes swept over the flashing lights, busy hands, and tightly pressed lips, before locking onto the Captain.

Niala’s lips curved slightly as she approached, her voice cutting through the controlled chaos. “Looks like you could use our expertise, Captain?”

“Pretty much.” Nassar nodded, motioning for her to assay the readout with the preliminary results.

Sil frowned. He was fighting with himself, there wasn’t exactly a threat, but the cautious part of him would prefer they raised their alert status and call back the away team. Thankfully he wasn’t the Captain, still, he wondered if he should say something out loud. “Perhaps… Maybe… We could raise our alert status, Captain. Just to be on the safe side?”

Saffiya’s face turned a little pale and then took on a red tinge. She had tried very hard not to think about what had happened on the Cupertino and had essentially forgotten that Silveira had been present to witness it. Now reminded of both these facts, she couldn’t do much more than set her feelings aside and, after once more exchanging glances with Frisco, gave a nod.

Sienna watched the captain’s face blanch at first and then bloom. In the limited downtime she had, she read the files on Cupertino. Once they had this matter in hand, she would need to find out how her captain was dealing with the events in her rearview.

The Captain took a deep breath “No, I am not exactly happy with the situation, especially not since we have an away team on the other vessel. How many of these distortions do we have inside, or in close proximity to, the Valkyrie? And is it affecting our systems at all?”

“The sensors are a bit scrambled,” Niala muttered, her fingers moving rapidly over the console. Lines of static and jagged waves danced across her screen, flickering unpredictably. Her brow furrowed as she leaned in, trying to decipher the chaotic stream of data.

“But I don’t think the question is ‘how many,’ Captain.” She paused, the faint glow of the monitor reflecting in her eyes. “I believe the question should be – ‘how big is it?’”

She glanced over at Lieutenant Nadir, her voice cutting through the hum of the bridge. “Ensign, can you confirm?”

The young man by the science console gave a nod.

Sil understood the Captain’s position and as the other finished checking in he stood quietly, looking at the registered distortions.

“Ensign Kalis to Security.”

Sil raised an eyebrow and quickly replied to the Comline.

“Lieutenant Silveira here.”

“We have a situation down at Valhalla, we could use some support.”

Once more, Nassar and Frisco exchanged a look.

Sienna felt something tug at her insides.  A warning?  A feeling?  She wasn’t sure.  “Sounds like an XO and a CMO gig.  I can take point.”  In her head, she began to work through the possibilities.

“Good call; take Silveira and Lorra along and keep us in the loop.”

Sil nodded and called for relief to his station, stepping up as his replacement arrived.

He wondered what would was the problem that would require Security at the Valhalla.

Frisco headed for the turbolift with the two, “We’ll update you as soon we get a handle on…whatever it is going on down there.”  She stepped into the turbolift and counted down from thirty as the doors closed.  Something felt off, and it was no longer a lingering suspicion.  Whatever was going on at Valhalla, it probably wouldn’t be a simple argument.

The away team seemed to be a mixed bag from various departments. As Chief of Security Taylor Kazansky checked her phaser, just in case there was anything threatening onboard that scans had not picked up, she wished she were going over with a full complement of security team members. While she understood wanting to be quick, and having science and medicine represented the security tactician in her always wanted to secure the location they were going to first, before supplemental personnel beamed over. Checking her phaser was more of a nervous tick than anything, and as usual it was standard and unremarkable. She waited as the other crew entered the transporter room, each carrying what they felt needed for embarking on another ship without much idea of what they were beaming in to.

Hina had gotten to the transporter room early. She couldnt say she was thrilled about beaming over to a ship trapped in the middle of a field of subspace distortions, but she would go where she was told, even if she preferred crawling through jefferies tubes or into conduits.

Currently she was neck deep in the transporter systems, checking to be sure that everything was working properly. The transporter chief had informed her that there might be interference with the transport due to the abnormally high concentration of subspace distortions and Hina definitely didnt fancy being scattered to the solar winds mid-transport. She pulled her head out of the panel she was peering into as someone else entered the room, seeing a similarly uniformed officer. They checked their phaser and seemed to be waiting for others to join them. She put her head back into the panel and finished her checks.

Once she had completed them she pulled her head back out and replaced the panel cover, wiping her hands on her overcoat as she stood.

”If there’s any trouble,” she said, not quite sure how she was going to finish the sentence, “let me know.”

Kazansky had meant it to sound brave, or helpful but she worried she just sounded worried. As if nothing was going to go the way they had planned it.

She glanced over at the officer she now saw was a lieutenant. That certainly hadn’t sounded inspiring. Which was somethign Hina could have used right about then. She cracked a smile.

“Not to worry, lieutenant… I’m sure you’ll be the first to know,” she said chuckling. She looked to the transporter chief. “Everything should be good to go, Chief… pattern buffer is stable, Heisenberg compensators are functioning, energizing coils are within spec. Still think we’ll need the pattern enhancers for the trip back?” she asked.

The Chief tapped the console for a few seconds then nodded.

“Yea L-T, getting you there should be no problem, but getting a lock on you once you’re there will be difficult,” he reported. Hina nodded and moved to the back of the room hauling open an equipment locker and hauling out a bundle of four enhancers, slinging them over her shoulder. She shut the locker and returned to the main part of the room, where she additionally retrieved her tool kit. She looked to the officer, whom she assumed was leading their merry little away team, and smiled.

“I’m Hina Morishita. Engineer,” she stated.

In keeping with Morishita’s introduction, the security chief kept it short and to the point, “Taylor Krazansky, security.”

It was, at least in Kazansky’s experience, generally better to say less than say more. It was easy to get carried away and become talkative, and add some distracting and pointless piece of information to the situation.

“Nice to meet you,”  she added, waiting with him. The doors to the room soon opened and admitted another of their group.

“Ah Doctor, nice to see you again!”

Hilea Acknowledged the greeting. She had her medkit, Type II phaser, and her own added medical items. “Jolan tru, Lieutenant. Ready for something different?” Hilea said, hiding her anxiety with perfected practice.

Hina nodded. She had met the Doctor at the reopening of Valhalla, and then more the next day at her medical intake. She seemed nice and had been in operations, so she understood more about running a ship than most.

“Good to have you here,” she said, just as the doors opened to admit another familiar face.

“Ensign Th’tholler, welcome!” she said.

“Oh, hello Lieutenant! Glad to see our project got us here safely.” Shahr nodded to Lieutenant Morishita. Looking at the rest of the away team, he noted the security chief and was pleased to see the doctor coming too. Shahr figured they were well-equipped to handle whatever surprises they may find on the derelict vessel.

Hina looked around at the other three and then stopped on Kazansky.

“Well, Lieutenant? Any other words of wisdom for us? Everyone have everything?” she asked.

Shahr looked to Lieutenant Kazansky expectantly, while silently patting down his gear. It was only the tenth time he had verified everything was there. To be fair, he was traveling fairly lightly, but there was no way he was going to embarrass himself by forgetting something. He waited for his first away mission pep talk.

“Have everything?” Hilea thought to herself. Human syntax was so odd. She wouldn’t know that until they returned. Instead, knowing what the Lieutenant meant, she replied, “I am ready.”

Hina wait a moment to see if the other lieutenant was going to say anything before looking to the others.

“We don’t know what’s over there. Sensors can’t really pinpoint any life signs, but that could be because of the interference. But we should be fine.” she said, gesturing for everyone to step up onto the transporter pad. She waited a moment for everyone to be set, before nodding to the transporter chief. She felt the transporter beam grab her and felt a sense of weightlessness as she was converted to energy and spent on the civilian vessel.

Shahr resisted the urge to sneeze when the transporter confinement beam grabbed him. He’d mentioned this to a few doctors before, none had an explanation. Shahr suspected they didn’t believe it was related, but he knew it happened during every single transport he’d taken. He also knew he’d never been able to suppress the sneeze. He held it just long enough to end up materializing with a stupid, contorted look on his face. When the confinement beam released him, the sneeze completed.

When she rematerialized on the other ship it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. The ships main power must’ve failed while they were enroute. She looked around, trying to take in the surroundings. There wasnt much amiss, other than the suspicious abscence of any other people.

Hilea stood still her hands on ready for action, if needed. When that didn’t happen, she reached for her tricorder and phaser separately. Flipping open the tricorder one-handed, she set the device for lifeforms, starting to gather data.

Kazansky stepped forward and visually swept the area, looking for threats. She did not draw her phaser, as she saw nothing, but she was aware of it in its holster at her side. Each direction she looked there were corners and hidden areas, tactically it made sense to stick together, but she had a feeling that she was the only one who felt that. Scientists loved going off to explore.

Hina looked over as Kazansky stepped forward, scanning the area as well. She looked back checking that the others had made it safely.

Shahr took out his tricorder and began his scans. He was specifically checking to see if the subspace distortions outside the ship were extending through the hull, but he kept an eye out for other irregularities. Nothing unusual yet…

The anomaly is making it difficult to differentiate individual life signs.” Hilea stated.”

“Shahr, would you give me a hand setting up the pattern enhancers?” she asked, shrugging the bundle off her shoulder to the ground. She knelt and retrieved one of the four enhancers, extending its legs and setting it up.

“Yes, of course, lieutenant.” Shahr holstered his tricorder for the time being and grabbed a pattern enhancer, then stepped away to match the placement arrangement that Hina had started.

While Hina worked she looked up at the others.

“What should our first course of action be, Lieutenant, Commander?” she asked, wanting to see what her superiors thought.

Kazansky looked further down the hall, “We should stay in contact with one another, group up.”

“Two teams. ”Hina you’re with me. That way we have tactical on both sides.” Giving Shahr a knowing glance. “Shahr, Medical and other scans are a priority. So I suggest the bridge or Main Engineering so we can pull the information and use more powerful sensors.” Hilea said.

Hina nodded. That sounded just fine to her.

Hilea added, “Questions? Comments? Concerns? Emotional outbursts?” She added with the tiniest smirk.

Shahr looked over at the doctor, startled by her remark. Then, realizing it was a joke, he exhaled sharply through his nose. “None for now, but I reserve the right to have one a critical moment.” He hoped his humor would be detected. “Shall we hit Engineering, commander? Should have access to the all bridge systems, and if something’s broken, we can repair it from there.”

“I agree. I would prefer Medical, but we can pull most of the logs from Engineering anyway. ” Hilea offered.

Shahr nodded and took out his tricorder. He waited for it to draw a basic map of their immediate surroundings, then started forward cautiously.

Following closely Kazansky kept her head up, not yet drawing a weapon but looking for threats. While there was not yet evidence of anything to be concerned with in the immediate vicinity it was much too quiet. Too devoid of life.

Hina finished setting up the last enhancer, activating them. She looked up at the others.

“I wonder what happened here… where the crew is…” she commented, pulling out her own tricorder from her tool kit. She set the scans as wide as they could go and pivoted in place. She frowned at the interference. Even through it the scans werent reassuring.

“Nothing…” she commented, banging the tricorder with the palm of her free hand. “I mean… I can read the ship, and minimal power… but lifesigns are… seemingly non-existant. Or the tricorder cant pick them up.”

She followed after Shahr, keeping her eyes on her own tricorder, activating the wrist mounted light she wore sweeping it through the corridor. The light played over the decking, bulkheads and various crates that lined the corridor, casting shadows that faded into the darkness that lay ahead of them. She stopped tracing her light back over something again, stopping when she saw the form of a leg sticking out from behind a crate.

“Doctor…” she pointed.

Hilea turned in the direction indicated, pointing the tricorder as long habit kicked in. Taking in the body part, positioning, and other factors, she started towards the area, her eyes bouncing between scans and deck.

Hina frowned. She didn’t like the looks of this. On a disabled ship, in the dark, with a body just meters from them.

“Anyone else have a bad feeling about this?” she asked aloud.

“Feelings are irrelevant,” Hilea said. “Facts are important.” She wasn’t about to confess to anxiety, whether she had it or not.

Shahr took a quick glance at the body, then narrowed his eyes and peered back into the dark hallway. He was suspicious now, whereas before he’d just been intrigued by the derelict ship. Something wasn’t right.

“Can you tell what happened, Doctor?” she asked.

Hilea walked over cautiously, scanning the area. A long kitchen knife stuck out of the being’s back. The scanner pointed toward the Tellarite male, life signs were flat, and the body had assumed room temperature.  Kneeling, she didn’t detect any odd odors, beyond the stench of the deckhand that had evacuated his bowels upon death.

Turning him over, there was a bead of spittle. Hilea retrieved a few small sample containers and filled both for later examination. “I will need more information, beyond the obvious knife wound.” Hilea offered calmly.

“I’d really like to get main power back on. Use internal sensors to get a better scan of this ship… and whatever is on it.” she said. Which she really hoped was just them.

Nodding in agreement, Shahr continued down the corridor. He was stepping lightly now, his body on alert to potential danger. Tricorder in hand, Shahr alternated between staring into the dark and quick looks at the scanner readings to map the path forward. Engineering shouldn’t be far now…

“Ah, I believe we’d made it. Looks to me like these bulkhead doors have a manual override behind this panel” Shahr gestured towards the wall. “I’ll get it.” He removed the panel gingerly, then grasped the hand-crank and looked to the team.

As the door open the map split. Hilea offered. “Main engineering is this way’s. “Taylor. Shahr. Securing the bridge would be next. Find the logs if any while Hina and I see why the ship is generating so much interference.”

Hina nodded. She glanced off toward the direction the Doctor had indicated main engineering was in then looked toward the bridge.

Perhaps we should stick together, Commander.” she said. She certainly wasnt scared. Nope not even a little bit.

The journey from there to the bridge was relatively uneventful. Shahr and Lieutenant Kazansky did pass another two bodies, though. One in a passageway, another in a jeffries tube they used to bypass the turbolift. Shahr passed his tricorder over both bodies, for the doctor to look at later. It wasn’t a medical tricorder, but it was better than nothing.

Shahr found himself on the bridge. The door had been basically ripped off, so he almost hadn’t noticed as they’d crossed the threshold.

“Well sir, here we are. That console over there seems to have a little power left.” Shahr gestured towards the aft section of the bridge. “I’m going to see if I can get internal sensors back online. Hopefully the others reach Engineering and can send a little power this way.”

”I’m not a fan of a quiet bridge,” the security lieutenant said. She was used to it being the hub of activity, the brain of a ship. A dead bridge meant, well it meant this. A dead ship. There was nothing at the moment to startle them, or cause of concern other than the fact that it was not hard for an imagination to recast the setting as their own bridge.

Hina turned down the corridor toward main engineering, hearing the footsteps of the others just behind her.

“Still no life signs…” she commented.

“I am unconvinced of that theory,” Hilea said flatly. “The data doesn’t specify the dead body, it isn’t there. Why?”

”No obvious signs of trauma,” Kazansky said studying the body, “we’d need a more though autopsy back on our ship to rule it out totally however.”

There were too many ways to die.

She shrugged, moving her light around the corridor looking for anything out of the ordinary, which was turning out to be rather difficult, given the darkness of the ship.

“The interference isn’t from the ship from what I can tell… it is from the field of subspace distortions we’re in… ”

Taking the data she had so far, Hilea started to conjure up possibilities.

“Honestly I’d prefer to be in a Jefferies tube on the Valkyrie right now, rather than stumbling through a deserted ship…” she commented, tapping a few controls on her tricorder. “Not a big fan of the spooky nature of this ship right now…” she said.

Hilea: “Right now, I would rather be on the bridge figuring out this puzzle with better tools.”

“If we can get the internal sensors going it would be easier too,” Kazansky said, “Even a scan from our own ship, detailed and slow. Might take a few hours but it may give us something. Any new piece of the puzzle could be important.”

Hina shrugged. Everyone had the places they would rather be. She tapped a few controls on the tricorder again as they approached another sealed door.

“That should be engineering. Door is sealed…” she said.

”I can’t just shoot down the door, but we can get the proper tools and bring them here if we need to,” Kazansky said. Ship doors, particularly in engineering were reinforced to ensure that attackers did not get in, or during an engineering emergency, an explosion could be sort of contained.

“Not an ideal situation. Though this isn’t a military spec vessel, the controls have to be nearby.” Hilea commented.

Hina moved to one side of the door scanning it and locating the manual override. She pried off a panel reached her hand inside gingerly. She took hold of the lever within the bulkhead looking back at the group.

“Dunno what’s on the other side of the door… be ready I guess,” she advised, pulling the lever. There was a spark and the door shuddered over, another body falling out and thudding on the deck. Hina let out a very un-Starfleet yelp. Ok, she was definitely scared now.

“Fuck!” she yelled. lets just figure out what happened on this ship and get back to ours…” she said.

”That’s my plan,” Kazansky agreed, she did not like this situation one bit. Too many bodies for her and the fact that they didn’t know what was going on yet was worrying her.

“PLEASE remain calm. Stop allowing Wind to create more Fire.” Hilea bid her comrades, talking about the elements as if they were real.

Hina stepped over the body shining her light around the engineering space.

“I’ll try and access their records…” she added, trying not to think about how many other bodies were in the room.

Shahr tapped his combadge. “Internal sensors seem to be intact, but power was diverted to other systems. If you can power them up, I can run some scans and send the readings your way.”

“Sure… give me a moment…” Hina said, redirecting power to the station Shahr was using.

Once in main engineering, Hina and Hilea looked around familiarizing themselves with the room. “Let’s get a few more joules through these systems. Not detecting much power left. Check the batteries and fusion reactor, while I check the consoles for information.

“Perfect, let’s see what we’ve got…” Shahr trailed off as the panel in front of him came to life. He punched in a few commands, a little unfamiliar with this console design but not totally lost. “Ok team, it looks the internal sensors are powerful enough to give us some readings despite the distortions. Coming in now…” Shahr let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“I’m seeing a lot of bodies. Mostly in clusters. Crews mess. Outside the captain’s office. I don’t see any life signs but ours… Redirecting control to engineering. Have a look doctor, you can undoubtedly spot a weak life sign better than I can.” Shahr tapped the console again.

Pulling out her tricorder Kazansky let the doctor work but scanned for anything threatening. Whatever was the cause of this was either not there at the moment, or could not be picked up by a normal scan. The air wasn’t poisonous and no Borg were hiding around the corner. It was all just a bit too mysterious for her.

It took Hilea a minute to correct the relay error, and reset the console, allowing it time to boot. Once running, Hilea tunneled into the main computer and started to read logs and scans.

Hina didn’t like this. She worked on getting the power up, they needed to figure out what was going on.

Waking from a short nap before duty, Hilea took the luxury of a shower. Something that would not have been possible not long ago in what she considered a past life. Whether the Romulan Senate thought so was another matter. But as the months passed, Hilea grew into her newfound culture.

Now more than a year in, the change in who she was astounded even her at times. From the near timid creature that arrived full of hate, fight, and angst over a year ago, to a now not only valued member of the crew but making true friends. Even one that knew her true Rihannsu name, something you only give to the most trusted.

Walking to the replicator, she asked. “Computer, a half-liter mug of Vulcan spice tea with chocolate soy milk. Also a plate of modified Shakshuka with a side of kippers.” A mix of eggs, tomatoes, and onions, but she substituted smoky Poblano and Ancho chiles for the bell pepper.

It was a slight change from her usual breakfast of Banger and scrambled eggs with toast, which Hilea had learned to love from the aforementioned name-knower. Lily then came to mind. A platonic foray into human culture. Her dads back near London had greeted her with open arms. The lavish garden in the backyard helped win her over. Had it not been for the Bells, her transition into Federation culture would have been far more painful.

Padding around the room, she tended her mix of plants. Most were on self-feeders but they still required the hand to prune, twist, and nurture. The mix of flora and natural materials lent the space a warmth and air that was calming.

Duty came next. A fresh clean uniform and off to Sickbay. The usual mix of mishaps, exams, and Petty Officer Patel’s twin girls. A normal day of rotations.

Once off duty, she changed into a karate Gi, something comfortable that one allowed the freedom of movement to fight. Thirty minutes of yoga followed by ninety minutes of intense training and cardio. Hilea rinsed off before changing into a fresh Gi, this one lined for warmth.

Dinner consisted of something called fried chicken salad and a large glass of orange juice. As a treat to herself, she added a mug of extra dark hot chocolate.

Hilea sunk into an overstuffed denim-cotton couch and the next several hours were spent learning that medicine, especially with multiple species crew, was a never-ending task.

An hour before her nap, she meditated. Though her version was slightly different. As long as her mind was calm, she allowed it to wander. She thought about Lily, sending her a quick catch-up email before heading to her bed, napping before duty.

Repeating the normal cycle, Hilea awoke right before her alarm was set to go off. Another shower and fresh uniform later she was ready for her day.

With so many fresh faces on board, Hilea knew that she needed to socialize more. Fresh faces and ones that while she hadn’t avoided, if she were honest, she also hadn’t put forth her best effort with Taylor. It was more from the whirlwind of activity than any emotional or other response towards the security officer.

Something she added to her ongoing to-do lists.

The bridge wasn’t empty, but it certainly felt so. Saffiya found it eerily quiet since Frisco, Lorra and Silveira had left, but lacked the energy to start up a conversation with the remaining officers. So instead, she busied herself with monitoring the away team and the ship’s systems. 

“Captain.”, said the woman who had filled in for Silveira once he had left, and Saffiya was sure to hear the slightest bit of concern in her words. “I do not mean to overstep, but I can assure you that I am well capable of monitoring the away team.”

Saffiya turned her attention to the Security Officer.  She could have sworn it was an Andorian when the woman had entered the bridge, but now that she looked at her, she looked human. Short brown hair, an athletic figure, and a scowl on her face. 

Keller. 

Saffiya held her breath, and for a moment, everything just seemed to stop. The ebb and flow of the amber lighting, the blips and beeps of the consoles around them, her heart, her thoughts. 

Then it resumed, catching up with the Captain at a near-sickening pace. This couldn’t be Keller. Because Keller was dead. 

Saffiya swallowed the growing lump in her throat, and screwed her eyes shut, letting the guilt that had simmered beneath the surface wash over her, allowing herself to experience it for the first time in weeks. 

“Captain?”, asked the woman again, concerned this time. And not in Keller’s voice.

“I’m… fine.”, answered Saffiya and opened her eyes. Keller was gone. “But you are right. I will be in the ready room, but please keep me updated.”

The Andorian gave a slight nod with her antennae, and Saffiya rose from her chair, feeling oddly drained. But nothing a cup of coffee wouldn’t fix. 

Sil followed Commander Lorra and Lieutenant Frisco into the Valhalla. The loud commotion was heard almost from the corridor. He raised an eyebrow as they headed to a large group. The crowd was surrounding three other crew members.  A golden shirt Human was in a shouting match with a… Was that teal or blue?

Sil was never able to tell the difference. Anyway, the blue Bajoran was in a shouting match with the golden shirt. To his side was another golden uniformed Human, or so she looked like it. They were all Ensigns, and Sil stepped from the crowd and placed himself in the middle of them. With a stern expression, he loudly shouted.

“WHAT THE FRACK IS GOING ON IN HERE? DO I NEED TO GET EVERYONE ON THE BRIG”

Lieutenant Sienna Frisco scrambled down to Valhalla and walked into the middle of something loud and out of control.  She turned and stared at the security officer, amazed and amused at his approach.  “Thank you, Lieutenant.  Everyone except for these three can take their leave.”  The crowd grumbled, and Sienna tightened her posture and slowly turned on her heel, “You can take your leave.”  The grumbling quieted as the only sound was feet clattering out of Valhalla, leaving the three officers from the bridge facing the three troublemakers.  “What happened?  Ensign Orlav?”

Tegan Orlav’s fast was red with fury, and her eyes remained wild, “That bastard Bolian was making moves on my man.  I saw him lookin’ at him.  He was gonna take him from me.”  The ensign spat on the ground to emphasize her point, muttering an invective or two for good measure.

Sienna took notes on her PADD, “I’ll leave out some of those words.  Porle?”

Porle, the aggrieved Bolian, stared mutely all around him. His lips moved, but his words were at a whisper.

Niala’s frown deepened, her eyes narrowing at the Bolian as she drew in a breath, ready to speak. Her fingers twitched at her side, but just as her lips parted, something stopped her.

“Thing is…” interrupted a young woman – civilian, at least if one went from her lack of uniform – who had been on her way out but made her exit a deliberatively slow one.

Lieutenant Sienna had taken the lead after Sil managed to break the potential fight. But he took a step close when the young woman interrupted them.

He smiled at her politely before asking. “What thing?”

“Well, none of these things actually happened. I mean, sometimes, you can misunderstand stuff. A certain look, a phrase, a tone.. but not in this case. What they are saying… ” she motioned vaguely to the three officers at the center of the near-brawl. “never happened.”

Sienna stared at the young officer, “That’s quite an accusation to make, Ensign.”  She looked back to the other three, focusing on the Bolian, “Porle?”

His eyes were wide, his words coming faster now: “I…I would never. I…I was just standing here talking with him about the latest article from the Olympic Journal…and she just…went off on me. Yelling…shouting…accusing me of…all kinds of…terrible things.”  He looked imploringly at the arriving officers, “You have to believe me.”

Sil raised an eyebrow. If that was his version of the story, something was wrong. He turned to the civilian that had interrupted them. “Have you seen what happened?”

“They just… I don’t know… zoned out. And then the one got mad, and the other did, and everything was chaos.”

He raised an eyebrow at her reply and tipped his head to Lieutenant Sienna as if saying, Are you buying this?

Frisco was frowning.  Her medical training was kicking in as the symptoms began to have a common theme.  “I think we’ve got a…”

Suddenly a movement at a small distance called Sil’s attention. The Valhalla was now less crowded but a familiar face passed by, just two tables away, only to disappear behind two other crew members.

Sil took a few steps in that direction before stopping by the words of those behind him.

He turned with a confused look, glancing around the room.

“I am sorry, I thought I saw someone who isn’t supposed to be here.”

“Like.. me. I am not supposed to be here.”, Claybrook said vaguely and turned to leave – unsuccessfully so.

“What do you mean by that?” Niala asked, she had a hunch but liked it to be confirmed.

“I just don’t want to get into any trouble. I’m not exactly reliable with any of this.”

Niala tilted her head, eyes narrowing as she studied the person in front of her. “What do you mean by that?” Her voice was smooth, but there was a glint in her eyes that suggested more was at play.

“I know it’s the officer’s lounge, and I am not supposed to be here.” Vivienne sighed and sat down at a nearby chair. “It just felt… weird. That’s the best way I can describe it. That’s why I came.”

Sienna tightened her hands into fists at her side.  She stared down a vision of her mother, long dead.  She looked as real as the day she had been alive.  She knew her mother had died in a fire in the colony she had retired.  She knew the body had been hard to identify.  Sienna blinked once, twice, and on the third hard blink, her mother was gone, replaced by empty space.

“Tricorders out.  Now.  I didn’t just see my dead mother for nothing.  Whatever is happening…it’s shared.  It’s either here in this room or somewhere outside.  Whatever you see or hear…it’s not real…as hard as that is to practice.

The fingers on Tanna’s right hand tingled as she opened her eyes and found herself in the transporter room on the USS Cromwell, and she reached up and touched her right shoulder, running her hand over the cold steel of the implant. She winced, not from physical pain, but from the painful memories attached to it. She was back from a transfer meeting, looking for a new commission. Over the last couple of months, during the recovery, the Cromwell had started to feel less and less like home, and Tanna couldn’t stand to be in her quarters alone, without Abigail. The transfer had been approved, and she was only on board long enough to collect her personals and load them in to the shuttlecraft. It took a few hours to pack all her personal belongings neatly into boxes, and transported into the shuttlecraft. She said her goodbyes, boarded the shuttlecraft, and set off to her new posting.

She input the coordinates to the Valkyrie, which was her new posting, and went to warp. The journey would take about 36 hours, so she unpacked the box that contained a working replica of a small CRT monitor with integrated DVD player and put on one of her favorite movies and then she crossed the small space to the replicator. “Pepperoni Pizza and a diet coke” she said to the machine, then turned around to watch the movie. Abigail, who was something of an engineering whiz, had worked tirelessly to properly replicate all of the foods Tanna’s mother recalled from her childhood in the late 1900’s: pizza, popcorn, breakfast cereals, candy bars, potato and tortilla chips, and all kinds of flavors of soda pops. “Pepperoni Pizza and diet coke” the computer voice confirmed, moments before producing the meal in the small window. Tanna retrieved the food and sat down to eat.

The trip went much like that, with a stream of classic movies and ancient snacks, punctuated by bathroom breaks, one night’s sleep, and at least two fits of uncontrolled sobbing. Tanna loved these things, but so did Abigail, and so everything was bittersweet. Eventually, “Approaching destination” came the computer voice through the quiet calm of the shuttlecraft. Tanna turned off the movie, and packed away her belongings.  She changed back into her uniform, tied her hair up, and prepared herself for her new life and her new crew.

She opened a channel to the Valkyrie and spoke to the viewscreen: “Ensign Irovin to Valkyrie. On final approach, requesting permission to come aboard.”

“Ensign Irovin, this is the Valkyrie, you are cleared for landing in the main shuttlebay, and welcome aboard” a voice confirmed back over the comms. Tanna found herself relived and excited as she landed her shuttlecraft in the bay. Excited at the prospect of living on a much larger ship, with so many new people to meet and collaborate with, momentarily even took her mind off Abigail. She felt some warmth spread through her body, and she moved towards the back of the craft, opened the door, smiled wide, and took her first steps onto the Valkyrie.

Hina had managed to get some of the ships systems partially powered up, including the lights, though many of them were blown out. But even the dim lighting the working ones provided revealed a grim picture. What crew they could find in engineering were dead, and it didn’t look like a pleasant death. Not that death was pleasant in the first place. She tapped a few more controls bringing up a couple other consoles around the room.

“I think I’ve got some basic computer access up… we might be able to determine what happened here…” she said, pointing to the other consoles.

Kazansky nodded, moving to the tactical conn. Yet when she looked down on it she saw that it was her little sister’s pram. She began to push it because she was in a park or so it seemed. The hallucination seemed to have enveloped her and the illogic of it and of being suddenly in a park and not on a ship, mattered little. Then just as suddenly she was back, looking around Kazansky saw that she was on the ship they’d boarded. She was standing at a conn station.

Kazansky decided not to mention that. They might think she was going crazy if she talked about pushing her baby sister’s pram around.

Having activated sensors and sending their readout to Engineering, Shahr moved on to other consoles on the bridge. He wanted to see what else he could learn about the crew’s fate here. He shrugged into his pilot harness, the familiar, uncomfortable tightness wrapping around him like a cocoon. Wait. That wasn’t right. Shahr shook his head. He was on the bridge of an alien ship, wearing a Starfleet uniform, not back in the Imperial Guard. What was that?

“Let’s check the warp core, just in case we need to move this ship.” Hilea said.

Hina shrugged as the others moved around the room, moving closer to the engine core, which still remained dark. Getting it powered up would be a far more intensive task, and she didn’t think it was necessary, the ships back up generators providing plenty of power for what they needed. She glanced down at her tricorder.

“If you think we need more power… it might take me a couple minutes to restart the ships warp core.” she informed, “Looks like a couple plasma relays were fused.” she said.

“Weapons have been discharged, not sure what they were shot at,” Lieutenant Kazansky said, refocusing on her duties.

Hilea thought reload, before furrowing her brow. Shaking off the errant thought, she continued to access medical logs. She commented, “Access to the bridge logs is still locked out. Perhaps a bypass at the ODN conduit.”

Having shaken off the weird reminiscence of before, Shahr moved to the actual conn of the actual ship he was on. He noted the most recent commands. “I don’t see any evasive maneuvers here from the pilot. Did we note any weapons damage to the hull when we approached?”

Krazansky shook her head, “There were no signs of weapon damage, the hull of the ship appeared from our scans perfectly fine.”

“I’d have to climb into the maintenance spaces…” she said, pointing toward one of the access junctions. She didn’t like the idea but would do it if needed.

“I can go with you, I wouldn’t recommend splitting up until we know what happened here,” Kazansky said.

Hilea commented. “I would rather not split up unless we have no choice. However, the alternative would be to all go to the bridge. Time may not be on our side.”

Hina nodded, leaning on a console.

“No Id say not. I’ll bypass the ODN junction and see if I can get access to the bridge logs from here…” she said, crossing tot he access junction.

“Shouldn’t take me but a few minutes.” she added, opening the access hatch. She shined her light down the long tunnel take a breath. Sure, going down the creepy access tunnel on the deserted ship with corpses everywhere, alone, was a great idea. She sighed to herself and crawled in, bringing ouit her tricorder to see how far down the ODN junction was. She hoped the others would be able to figure out what had happened while she was gone.

Shahr tapped his comm badge to address the entire away team. “So we have weapons fire, but no evasive action. Corpses, but no sign of a boarding party or the type of damage that would wipe out the crew. Unless, uh, a bunch of holograms took them out, I don’t have a clue.” Shahr blinked. “Actually let me look for evidence of that.”

“Can we tell if it’s holograms? It wouldn’t be the first time a ship’s computer system turned on its users,” Kazansky said, they all remembered Frontier Day.

After poring through the ship’s internal sensors, Shahr felt confident a crew of rogue holograms was not the culprit here. “No residual traces of holograms or other photonic beings. Even with remote projectors, I’d be able to get something.”

Hina tossed her tool kit out of the crawlspace she had entered, causing it to clatter to the ground before hauling herself out after it. She stood quickly and replaced the access hatch on it leaning against it.

“Please tell me you figured out what was going on here… so we can get off this ship.” she practically begged, looking between the 3 other people in the room. She was very clearly distraught.

“Calm yourself, Lieutenant, or I will sedate you,” Hilea stated. “Investigations take time, we are collecting clues. Take a moment to gather yourself if you need to.”

She shook her head, looking at the access hatch she was leaning against.

“No… no reason…” she lied. “I fixed the ODN junction… well bypassed it completely. We should have access to all the logs we need so long as the bypass holds,” she added, pushing off the access hatch and picking up her tool kit.

Kazansky looked concerned, “Are you alright?”

“It’s nothing… just… heard some things in the crawlspace,” she said. That was true, but not the complete story either.

The security lieutenant nodded, “I also saw something, just like a flash or a vision. Could there be some kind of radiation we’re not picking up that’s playing tricks on us?”

“Shahr to… everyone. I might have found something. I was checking out this console’s activity log while Lieutenant Morishita was getting access to, uh, actual logs. Anyway, I noticed the internal sensor readouts were accessed from the captain’s office. A lot. As in, he or she seems to have rerouted this console to their personal computer repeatedly, and in increasing frequency, over the last few days.”

Hilea thought about the pattern, then said. “In fear of their life. Whether justified or not remains to be seen.”

Shahr dug a little deeper into the activity log. “Well I’d need a bit longer to confirm, but from a quick glance, it looks like they were compulsively checking the armory and also the hallway outside their office. Yeah… almost exclusively.”

“Excellent,” Hilea said.” Sickbay next. All of us. Now. I have scans to run, and logs to read. Wrap it up here so we can move out.”

Hina nodded, downloading what she could of the relevant ship’s logs onto her tricorder to read on the way.

“Sure… sickbay.” she said, frowning. She glanced back at the maintence hatch and then began to follow Hilea out of engineering. Everything about this ship was turning out to be a nightmare, so she could hardly imagine what sickbay would be like.

“Please concentrate on the sensor logs, while I go over the medical ones, Lieutenant. Keep your mind on the task.” Hilea said to Hina. Now her mind was wandering as well, hearing extra footfalls. Were they being followed?”

She glanced around as the group traveled, though mostly kept her eyes on her tricorder skimming the logs as best she could. The ship had arrived to study the distortion field.

“Oh… that’s probably not good… it looks like whatever happened here, started not long after they arrived here…” she commented to the group. “Maybe that’s why the captain kept checking the armory…” she added.

“Then the Armory is also a logical destination, the more clues we can gather, the more possibilities we can eliminate as not the solution. Thank you, Hina.”

“More mysteries…” she muttered, as they approached sick bay.

Hina peered down the maintenance space, watching her light play off the sides of the crawlspace. This was definitely not what she wanted to do… but they really needed to figure out what happened about the ship they were on. She set her tool kit into the crawl space crawling in after it. She crawled into the dark, listening to the voices of her other away team members fade as she crawled deeper. The ODN junction she needed to bypass was pretty deep in the crawlspace. Why was she here again? Oh right because she was a good engineer and she was friends with the Captain. She had been invited.

She eventually reached the ODN junction, shining her light at it. It sparked once, releasing a small puff of smoke. That explained why access to the bridge logs wasn’t possible. She turned, setting herself up in front of the junction, laying across the crawlspace on her back in front of it so she could get a better angle to work on it. She grabbed for a spanner, using it to pry off the charred access cover. She took a moment to inspect it, frowning. The damage didnt appear to be a result of a malfunction.

“Looks like someone bashed it in…” she commented.

“I agree.” a familiar voice replied. Hina jumped, causing the access panel to clatter to the decking under her. She looked around, shining her light up and down the crawlspace, looking for the source of what she heard. There was nothing there.

“Maybe it was just a weird echo…” she muttered, shoving the access cover away from herself. She set her light up so it shined into the ODN junction and frowned. It was a mess, and would take her more time than she had originally thought. She grabbed an isomagnetic decoupler, and got to work, humming quietly to herself, filling the quietness of the crawlspace and to keep her mind off just where she was. She pulled out a section of opticable that was charred and cast it aside, pulling another length of slack loose to reroute some pathways.

“You’re gonna need a type 2 phase discriminator…”

Hin jumped, looking around. She saw an inky black figure coming down the crawl space toward her. She ripped her light from where she had set it, shining it in the direction of the figure, which vanished in the light. She kept the light pointed there for a moment, rubbing her eyes with her other hand, trying to make sense of what she had just seen. Why did she recognize the voice, and why had it been correct about the tool she would need?

“Nope… nope… that clearly didn’t happen…. Just bypass the ODN junction, Hina… get back to engineering…” she said, placing the light back where it had been so she could see the ODN junction again. She felt around for the tool the voice had advised her on and worked quickly, rerouting opticable paths as quickly as she could. She wasn’t terrified. Not at all. Her hands always shook when she was working. Not.

She tossed the phase discriminator to the deck and grabbed her tricorder, scanning the junction again, checking for basic functionality. It was working for the moment, and would get them the access the needed. That was good enough for her, if her bypass failed she wasn’t coming back in here so if they couldn’t get the data they’d have to find some other way. Her hands felt around for her tool kit and she shoved the spanner and her tricorder into it, shutting it before beginning back toward engineering. She didn’t even notice that she had left the discriminator behind as she started to crawl off.

“Hina!” the phantom voice called. That wasn’t what caused her to stop however, it was the feeling of a hand on her ankle.

“Your discriminator.” the voice added. Hina wanted to look back, but she found herself unable to turn around. She knew who the voice belonged to. It was an impossibility. A breath in. Then out. She turned looking behind her, only to be greeted with an empty crawl space with nothing but her phase discriminator laying on the decking. She shined the light back and forth for several moments before grabbing the discarded tool and hurrying back the way she had come as quickly as the crawlspace would allow.

That voice was impossible. There was no way the owner of it could be aboard the vessel she was on. Because they were on the only other vessel nearby. One she would rather be on right now. The current one had something very very wrong going on.

The voices of her away teammates soon grew louder again as she closed in on engineering. She hucked her tool kit out of the crawlspace, causing it to clatter to the ground and pulled herself out after it. She quickly replaced the access hatch and leaned against it.

“Please tell me you figured out what was going on here… so we can get off this ship.” she practically begged.

By now, it was well-known that the Captain liked to frequent Valhalla whenever she had the bandwidth for it. It had become a subject of discussion and anticipation – some hoped to meet and talk to her, others hoped that she wouldn’t show up. Today, the latter would be sorely disappointed.

With a few new additions to her crew, Saffiya had occupied with supporting her Executive Officer and Chief Medical Officer (who were one and the same person) by greeting the new officers and showing them around the ship. It was something she enjoyed immensely, and it meant that she had cleared her schedule facilitate those social engagement.

Now, she was starving.

As she entered Valhalla, a few heads turned. The Captain offered a warm smile to those she already knew, and a polite nod to those she had yet to meet. It was fairly crowded today, meaning she would have to join a group rather than following her usual strategy of sitting down and allowing those who wanted to, to join her.

She approached a red-collared Klingon Ensign who was sat somewhat solitarily at one of the tables. “Do you mind if I join you?”, she asked, her tone soft as to not to startle the woman. It was one of the members of her crew she didn’t know yet, but now that she thought about it, she was fairly sure that she had seen her face in one of the transfer orders that were stacking on her desk.

The Klingon Ensign, already observing the Valhallan crowd like a sailor watching the waves of the ocean, was aware of the turning heads. The attention of a few was being drawn to the latest soul guided into Valhalla; a human, or a member of a species that was human-adjacent, was approaching Chigorra’s table. Clues slotted into place in Chigorra’s mind: this approaching officer was recognized by a few crewmembers, was perhaps a bit short, had hair darker in color than Chigorra’s own… Closer now, Chigorra could be certain that this was the woman at the very top of the Valkyrie’s hierarchy, recognizing her from briefing images shown during the on-boarding process.

“Captain.” Chigorra replied, her own voice firm but not too loud. The Ensign rose from her seat, her lips spreading in a sharp-toothed smile of welcome. “Not at all, please.” As the Captain, presumably, sat, Chigorra swept her head toward the Norse-style bar, ready to hunt down an employee of the Lounge… But she saw that a Pelian who worked at Valhalla was already on his way over to take the Saffiya’s order, if she had one.

The Klingon sat back down, realizing that if she sat up straight, she might be nearly a head taller than the Captain. If she leaned forward, there was quite a lot of her to lean with, and she’d end up looming over her superior officer. Chigorra elected to try to meet someone in the middle, half-straight, half-looming. She also elected to remain silent, allowing the Captain the chart the course of this conversation as the Pelian waiter arrived, ready to work the replicator if the Captain desired anything.

“I’ll take the usual, please.”, Saffiya told the waiter, who gave a nod and noted someone down on the PADD he was carrying, before making his way over to the bar to retrieve it. Then, Saffiya turned her attention back to the Klingon.

“I don’t think I know you yet, I am fairly sure I would have noticed you before.”, she said, deciding that she didn’t exactly need to introduce herself since she was in uniform.

Chigorra herself asked the waiter for sixteen ounces of water with a lemon squeezed into it, including the seeds and pulp. “Ensign Chigorra. Pleased to be in your service, Captain.” she replied. She chose the word ‘pleased’ instead of ‘honored’ quite deliberately. Even non-Klingon newcomers to the ship might’ve said they were honored to be assigned to the Valkyrie, and though Chigorra was, there were some complex feelings tied to that concept. “I’m your new Diplomatic Officer, graduated from the Academy on Earth last month.” Chigorra offered this as well, though Saffiya may have already placed Chigorra by this point.

“Oh! So I was right after all – I thought I saw your paperwork come through, but there have been several transfers recently, so I wasn’t entirely certain you were one of the new arrivals.” She offered an appreciative smile, then continued. “And I see you already found one of the best spots on the ship.”

Chigorra grinned at this; her teeth were clean of debris, but Klingon teeth were sharp and rather messy in their arrangement, and a bit of brown staining was natural coloration. “A warrior’s afterlife.” she commented, referring to the place’s mythological name. “Though I’m thankful I don’t have to die to come here.” She leaned back as the Pelian waiter returned, bearing Saffiya’s ‘usual’ and Chigorra’s drink, lemon seeds dancing inside the glass. Chigorra was curious about what comprised the Captain’s usual order, and the Klingon observed it briefly before speaking further.”The Captain’s usual…” she muttered, hoping to prompt Saffiya to explain what it was, if it wasn’t immediately recognizable.

Saffiya laughed. “It’s coffee. It’s always coffee.”

It occurred to Chigorra to clarify something she’d wanted to ask a fellow crewmember, but given that Saffiya  herself was right in front of her… “If I may ask, Captain… Do you prefer to be referred to as Sir, or ma’am? Or neither? I’m aware that some Captains have their own desires when it comes to… nautical honorifics.”

“I don’t mind either, but I prefer Sir.”, Saffiya explained. She had never really paid attention to how people addressed her, as long as it was somewhat polite. This hadn’t changed in the time she had been Captain.

“Sir. So it shall be.” Chigorra replied.

“We will be working together closely. Politics are still a mystery to me, sometimes.” She paused “On the last mission aboard my last vessel, I accidentally insulted a Cardassian Gul. It wasn’t a big deal because it’s not like they were friendly to begin with, but I would certainly appreciate the guidance.”

The Klingon’s eyebrows danced upward with amusement at the Captain’s revelation about an accidental insult. One the most challenging courses Chigorra had taken at Starfleet Academy featured Cardassians. The course had included a short series of holo-interactions authored by experts in negotiation with the pre-Dominion Cardassian Union. Hologram recreations of those Starfleet officers had been demanding teachers, and the Cardassian Guls themselves had been infuriating in their demeanor. Odd, wasn’t it, that some of her most memorable professors at the Academy had been constructs of light and computer algorithms?

Chigorra sipped her lemon water as the Captain spoke further, the Klingon taking the time to chew down a lemon seed, enjoying the burst of bitter flavor. “I am at your service.” she said at the end, perhaps a bit of Tellarite pride invading her tone as she set her glass down. Humility tried to follow. “Though I’ll surely have my own share of accidents from time to time. I think the road to success is paved with mistakes… Learned-from mistakes, hopefully.”

The Captain’s request for guidance inspired a new topic of conversation. Given her high position in her chair, Chigorra scanned Valhalla, seeing that other customers were far enough away out of earshot. She hunched her shoulders a little, conspiratorially, her voice hushed. “How do you prefer to receive guidance, Sir? That is, if we are in a situation on the bridge and I have thoughts to share, should I wait until called upon? Confer with the First Officer? We were taught that each Captain has their own preferences for such things.”

Saffiya considered this for a moment. “It depends on the situation. If I am doing something stupid, by all means, let me know. I trust that you can decide when it’s better to interrupt me, or when it makes more sense to wait. But there is no need to wait until you are called upon.”

The Ensign accepted this, though she recognized there were proper ways and improper ways to interrupt a Starfleet Captain. “I understand. I felt that it would be… wise to ask, rather than guess at what you prefer on your Bridge or in briefings.”

“Very true.”, Saffiya confirmed, and at that moment, her badge chirped.

“Security to Captain Nassar.”

“Nassar here.”

“Captain, we have a situation. I think it is best you come to the Bridge.” 

“Understood.”

Saffiya got up at once. “I am sorry we have to cut this short.” She paused, considered something, then asked “Would you like to accompany me?”

Chigorra rose on instinct, matching Saffiya’s movements. Perhaps there was something Klingon in the act, for a warrior to rise with their General and rush into the fight. “Of course!” she said with a grin, immediately forgetting her drink. Security calling the Captain to the Bridge could mean anything; an invader demanding to speak to the ship’s leader, an encrypted message meant for the Captain’s eyes only… Chigorra would fall into step to Saffiya’s right and slightly behind her as they moved, the Klingon’s own stomping footsteps sure to warn other crewmembers out of their path. Chigorra’s first visit to the Bridge, in tow with her Captain, to witness a ‘situation’… exciting!

When he was enroute to the Valkyrie he had to occupy his mind. He would relax, reading history of the namesake of the vessel on his PADD. He wondered what kind of organization Starfleet would have become if Earth was dominated of the Vikings of old. To be honest, he knew very little of human history before this assignment. Despite being in the multicultural melting pot which was the Federation of Planets, his mind was locked into the culture he was mostly raised in. His father would talk of Spirituality, epic battles, and share the oral history of the Klingon’s. What Ovam found in his research is that the Klingons and the Human Viking tribes had a lot in common.

“We would have killed each other,” he murmured to himself thoughtfully.

He didn’t seem concerned about the other ensigns who overheard his musing, he was used to getting odd looks.

Then he arrived and he would be lying if he wasn’t in awe of the vessel. His father always told him that the UFP should never be underestimated. They preached being humanitarians and under the mask of soft power yet even Klingon history and military doctrine speaks of the reality that Starfleet is not an enemy to underestimate.

As he got a tour of the ship he was silent. This was abnormal for the Klingon. He often had a laugh that you can hear through the deck, he cared little for speaking quietly as well. All he could think of was getting a drink. The trip to get here was long, and it had been a few days since he felt the warmth in his belly that Synthehol or better real alcohol could provide. When the tour finally ended in Valhalla the Klingon was practically glowing. As they were dismissed, he marched over to the bar and sat down.

“I read about this drink that the ancient conquerors of earth used to drink, it is called Meade,” without a word from the bartender he produced a drinking horn and began to top it off.

The Klingon took a sip, he enjoyed it. It wasn’t as strong as bloodwine, he could see why people appreciated it. Without hesitating he finished the horn’s contents in two massive gulps.

The drink was dribbling down his bearded face.

“Keep it coming, my travel here was long, and I am very thirsty,” he barked loudly.

He lost track of the number of horns he drank. In a way he was a little disappointed, he knew that it was Synthehol by how the buzz was very mild. The comforting warmth in his belly was still there. Sliding off the seat he made his way to his quarters. As he walked, he felt like he had purpose. He wondered if the Valhalla on the ship would have been suitable to the warriors who died in battle in the past. Were the spirits of the warriors on this ship with them? He would like to think so, a ship named after something of Norse myth needed to shepherd them safely.

Robert Anderson sat quietly in the waiting area of Starbase 1, his duffel bag resting at his feet. The soft hum of the station’s systems surrounded him. The only thing that broke the silence was the occasional noise of the nearby transporter. Starbase 1 was busy, as always, with officers coming and going, but Robert found solace in the anonymity of the crowd. It gave him a moment to breathe, to reflect on the massive shift his life was about to take.

He absently fiddled with the edge of his PADD, where his assignment to the USS Valkyrie flashed in bold letters on the screen. His first official post: Counselor. The reality hadn’t quite sunk in yet; he was going to his first assignment. The word Counselor felt like a stone he couldn’t entirely lift. He wouldn’t be the one running to a more experienced officer; he was now that officer. He slipped down in the chair. The lower he sat, the more the weight of his new responsibility began to weigh on him.

His thoughts wandered to his family: his father, mother, and siblings Julia and Leo. Leo, the youngest, was still finding his way at Starfleet Academy. They had all called him before he left, each with their own version of advice. Julia told him to be ready for anything. Leo joked about the perks of being a counselor—like having the best seat at the poker table. And his father, his anchor, reminded him that the mind was as crucial to Starfleet as any warp drive.

Robert chuckled as he leaned back in his chair, glancing around. The station still felt familiar. He’d spent several years here during his residency in psychiatry. However, this time, he wasn’t a student learning under the guidance of seasoned professionals. Now, he was the one others would turn to. He slipped lower into the chair.

He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath, just as he had been taught. The memories of Frontier Day still lingered in his mind. He’d forced them down and tried to push the thoughts away, but it didn’t work. He had studied trauma counseling, xeno-psychology, and cultural sensitivities extensively, preparing for the diverse crew he would encounter in his career. Each species had its unique challenges, but Robert found that at the core, most sentient beings wanted the same things: understanding, peace of mind, and someone to listen.

Robert’s eyes opened as a soft chime announced an incoming message on his PADD. The transport to the Valkyrie would be docking shortly. He stood, straightening out his uniform and grabbing his bag. His hand shook for just a second as he gripped the strap. “It’s just fatigue,” he told himself, “or maybe the lack of sleep.” He took a deep breath. This was what he had trained for; this was that moment.

Walking toward the transport gate, he couldn’t help but feel a mix of anticipation and excitement. Yet behind it all, a small knot of doubt sat in his stomach. What if he wasn’t ready? What if he couldn’t keep his thoughts together while helping others? The next chapter of his life was beginning. There would be new faces, challenges, and opportunities to make a difference. As the doors to the transport slid open, Robert stepped through. In no time, he would be standing on the deck plating of the USS Valkyrie.

He reached over, adjusting the duffel on his shoulder,  “Physician, heal thyself,” he muttered, trying to calm his nerves.

He took one last look at the station before he turned to find his seat.

The comms overhead clicked on. “Bridge to Sickbay, Commander Miller has authorized the use of warp. We’ll be underway momentarily. Bridge out.”

“He knew what we were doing here,” Selara told Lieutenant Mox. “Now all we have to do is keep Captain Romaes alive until we get there.” She let out a puff of air. “Easy.”

She picked up the cautery tool. “We’ll have to be quick and dirty with this. He’ll live, but I don’t envy the surgeon who has to undo what we’re about to do. Suction.”

Lieutenant Mox applied the probe to the hemorrhage, giving Selara a better view. She inserted the tool into the wound and she heard the familiar sizzle.

“All right, crisis averted. Keep a watch on that wound,” She said to the EMH. “Now let’s get to work on those intestines!” She returned the cautery tool to its holster and picked up the tissue stimulator. “Let’s plug some holes.” Selara engaged the stimulator and applied it to the section of intestines she was previously working on.

The monitor’s alarm sounded.

“VFib!” Mox shouted while looking at the monitor. “That bleeder’s reopened!”

“Prep a cordrazine series. Hang the second unit and prep two more.” Selara shouted to no one in particular. She typed commands into the surgical frame. “I’m going to attempt to stabilize the rhythm.” A beeping from the frame, Romaes’ form stiffened and his back arched, then relaxed back on the bed. “Go with the cordrazine.”

Lieutenant Mox pushed a hypospray to Romaes’ neck and it hissed. “Cordrazine in.”

“Attach the cortical stimulator,” Selara barked to the EMH.

An urgent beep from the monitor, “Asystole!” Mox reported.

“Starting the stimulator,” She rapidly entered a series of buttons in the surgical frame. A series of beeps and Romaes’ body arched again. “Another round of cordrazine.”

Three more rounds of this, and two more units of blood, Mox spoke up. His voice was quiet, “We lost him.”

“No, I will not accept that,” Selara hissed back. “What if we,” she furiously entered commands into the surgical frame, “used the stimulator to induce theta waves? Or,” more commands, “we added alkysine to the cordrazine and amplified the-“

Mox’s hand closed over Selara’s, “Stop. You need to call it.”

Selara looked into his eyes which held a look of finality. He was right, the Captain was dead. “Computer, mark Captain Romaes Anjin’s time of death and log it into the main computer. Authorized by Dr. Selara, Chief Medical Officer.

Chirp. Captain Romaes Anjin’s time of death was marked, and logged, at 2218.

“Can you close? I need to do the post-mortem paperwork?”

Mox nodded and picked up the dermal regenerator. “Why didn’t you save him, Dr. Selara?”

Selara, now scrubbing out, stopped and looked at him, “What?”

“Yes, why didn’t you save him, Commander?” The EMH looked at Selara.

“Why doctor? Why?!” Captain Romaes insisted, his still open body turned to Selara.

Why… why… why…

Selara sat bolt upright in her bed, the words echoing in her head. It took a minute for her mind to adjust. She wasn’t aboard the Hathaway but in her rented room on Starbase 1.

“That’s not how it happened,” Selara said in the darkness. She refocused her mind and recalled Hathway’s emergency return to Starbase, her memories threatening to betray her. “The wound near the diaphragm reopened, I sealed it again, and we were able to keep him down by slowing the kayolane infusion. It was dodgy, but he made it to the base alive.”

Did he?

She threw back the blankets and walked over to the small desk. Selara activated the monitor, “Computer, display the most recent surgical notes for Captain Romaes Anjin, as performed by Dr. Selara, Chief Medical Officer aboard the USS Hathaway.”

The text appeared and Selara read it as it scrolled. “There, right there,” she pointed at the text, “‘Clinical handover was transferred to Dr. Charles Millsboro of Starbase… It is this clinician’s opinion that Captain Romaes Anjin condition is “emergently critical”, which Dr. Millsboro concurs. The following…’ We did make it,” Selara sighed and flopped back in her chair. “We made it!” She shouted to the darkness.”

Selara smiled, her memories reaffirmed, stood up, and walked into the bathroom to take a shower.

After Lieutenant Frisco’s reaction Sil promptly took out the tricorder in his holster. He always carried a tricorder and a type one phaser with him, even on bridge duty.

He glanced at Vivienne, still sitting. Doing a quick reading, he raised an eyebrow. He took a step closer to the Lieutenant, showing her the tricorder.

“This might be what’s causing it.” There were a huge amount of subspace distortions in the room.

Sienna had her tricorder out: “It’s not just here. Long-range scans show they’re occurring across the ship and growing at the same rate as they are here.  This isn’t good.”  She felt the hair on her neck stand up as her eyes began to see things that weren’t supposed to be there.  Sounds from a lifetime were filtering into her ears, distracting her attention.

Silveira turned to Vivienne. “Do you recall where on the ship you arrived?”

Vivienne’s eyes widened. “This isn’t my fault! I’ve been on the ship for weeks now, and I don’t cause subspace distortions…”

The XO held up a hand, “Breath.  Let’s not accuse someone without any actual proof.  Whatever is happening isn’t going to make this easy.  Her mother waved from a table, the bullet wound from her suicide oozing blood.  Sienna’s eyes widened, and her eyes caught the revolver on the table, still smoking.  “Not easy at all.”

“I was two decks down when I noticed something strange. I’m a crappy telepath, but there are some expressions I get. I doubt I sensed the distortions, rather, I might have noticed the distress it put people though”

Sienna tapped her badge, “Bridge, this is Frisco.”  The beep sounded, but that was it. There was a gasp of static and then nothing. She tapped again, “Bridge, this is Frisco.”  The beep repeated, and silence followed.  “If the bridge has been compromised, we’re going to have to get there.”  She flinched as her mother stood, snagged the gun, and pointed it at her.

Vivienne could feel the shift in Frisco’s emotions, but didn’t have time to react. On the chair by one of the tables sat a young woman in Starfleet uniform, and four pips on her collar. She was attractive, too – blonde, with dark Betazoid eyes, and high cheekbones. Captain Victoria Amelia Claybrook. Vivienne’s older – and much more successful – sister.
But there was no way she was actually here. Intellectually, Vivienne understood that.

“I am seeing things.”, she admitted. “My sister is sitting there. But she can’t, she is on her own vessel. Does anyone else see her?”

The missed communication with the bridge made Sil alert and look around.There was nobody else there. But again he saw somebody he shouldn’t. She was sitting at the bar, smiled and nodded as if acknowledging him.

Sil ignored her and turned to Vivienne.

“I am sorry but I don’t.”

Vivienne exhaled, glad for the confirmation. “So it’s an illusion. Or a… hallucination. Is anyone else seeing something that isn’t there?”

Sil turned to the bar. There, raising a glass in his direction was Helena. Again he ignored her and looked to Vivienne and Lieutenant Frisco. He raised an eyebrow at her expression.

“I believe so. Lieutenant?” He asked, hoping that Friscop could snap out of her hallucination.

Sienna gritted her teeth.  Her mother clicked through the chambers of the revolver while pointing the gun at her.  The memories of the message from her distraught father and the long shuttle ride home threatened to break through the damn she had built in her mind.  There had been footage of her mother’s suicide, and she had watched it once.  She closed her eyes.  That had been a mistake.  There had been no more answers than there were now.  Her dead body remained standing, finger-tripping the trigger on repeat, that sound echoing louder at each movement.  Sienna opened her eyes, tears at the edge of her vision.  Her mother had seemed lost in her final years.  She had been too busy to come home with her career in Starfleet.

Silveira took a step in front of the Lieutenant. “Lieutenant, it’s not real.” He looked at the bar. “None of it.” He then turned to Vivienne, reaching his hand to her. “Stay with us.”

The XO tightened her fists together, gaining a modicum of control, “My mother’s suicide is playing out in front of me in a true brutalist fashion.  I’m here, but I imagine this isn’t limited to us.”  She glanced to Claybrook for an answer.

Vivienne shook her head.

“Whatever it is is playing with our minds. Making us think of people who aren’t here. Maybe we should head for the bridge or something.”, noted Silveira.

Sienna shook her head, “I think we need to make for sickbay.  If the bridge is in the middle of this, we need to find something to relieve this, even temporarily.  It’s going to be slow going, but wherever we go – we have to work on figuring out how to slow and eventually stop this.  I can only imagine what other memories this…thing is going start digging up.”

“But what if the bridge… doesn’t know. They can decide to eject the warpcore or something.”, Vivienne frowned. She was not thrilled by the idea.

Sil understood Vivienne reasoning but he looked at Lieutenant Frisco and shook his head.

“The Lieutenant is right, and so far, we have been able to tell the fantasies apart, but we don’t know for how long.”

Sienna looked at both of them as she replied, “Whatever happens – someone’s got to be figuring out a cure.  If the bridge is lost, there’s not many medical folks up there – we’re all on our own out here.”

The young woman nodded. “That makes sense. Can I come?”

Sil shrugged and tipped his head to his senior officer. “I think another pair of eyes and hands can be useful, and I can keep an eye on Miss Vivienne. But it’s your call Lieutenant.”

The XO gathered herself, “The trials and tribulations of being second in command.  I get the fun decisions.  Let’s get moving – together.”

One of Ensign Stroyer’s many skills was that she could be so quiet that she almost blended into her surroundings, and that she spoke so little that people tended to forget she was actually there. She had been accompanying the away team since they left the Valkyrie, but only spoke up once the Andorian and the female Engineer had left for sickbay.

She glanced at Kazansky, and finally spoke up. “Can I make a suggestion, ma’am?”

Glancing at the ensign Lieutenant Taylor Kazansky nodded, “Always, I’m always open to a good idea. Especially now when we’re trying to figure out what’s going on.”

Kazansky had had commanding officers who were open to input from the lower ranks, and those that were not. She’d always preferred to serve under those that were willing to listen and though she was only a lieutenant herslf now, she had made an effort to remain open and responsive to those in the ranks below.

Stroyer glanced at the consoles in front of her, very much aware of the close proximity to the surrounding dead bodies. She had very little interest in sticking around here longer than it was absolutely necessary.

“If we can make copies of the relevant files, we can review them back on the Valkyrie. This ship is… unsettling.”

“That’s a great idea,” Kazansky nodded. Being open, however, did not mean that she had to share her own fears about this ship. She was the Chief of Security, she had to maintain a brave face for morale. Once you had the Chief of Security running around frightened of her own shadow discipline tended to fall apart pretty quickly.

Going over to the nearest computer Kazansky pulled up the files and then blinked. There didn’t seem to be any files, it was all just pictures of her in embarrassing situations on Risa. Turning she put her back to the computer so that Stroyer did not see the images, “It’ll just be a second I need to search for them.”

Kazansky hoped that she could wipe the computer core before anyone saw these, though how would images of her on vacation on a planet she’d never been to have made it onto this ship she’d also never been to or knew anyone aboard? She hoped that Stroyer would step away to let her erase everything.

Naveah noticed. Not the pictures, of course, but she did notice that their Chief Security Officer was acting a little… odd. “What’s wrong?”, she asked, trying to get a look at the console, but didn’t quite manage. For some reason, within only a few seconds, the ship had gotten icily cold. So cold, in fact, that the water molecules in the air began to freeze, letting a soft snow fall upon consoles and fallen crew.

It was nice, Stroyer thought, until she remembered that this was very much impossible. She stretched out her hand, feeling the snowflakes float onto her skin and turn back into liquid.

She shook her head, and furrowed her brows as she looked at Kazansky. She had meant to ask the more experienced woman what she thought about this, when she realised that something else was going on…

“Did you just erase the log files?”

The log files? Kazansky blinked and looked back at the computer screen. A progress bar was running, filling up and below it said ‘deleting files’. The log files, she tried canceling it frantically. That was not good, why was she doing that? It had been photos that she’d been wanting to get rid of, but then those were impossible. No such photos existed.

The bar halted at 40% deleted as the operation was canceled. Forty percent of tens of thousands of files. Which meant that she’d just deleted thousands of files. Perhaps she’d just deleted exactly what they were looking for, the information they had needed.

“Oh no,” Kazansky said, “I thought they were photos. I umm, thought they were off me.”

This was an incredibly hard thing to explain, and she knew that she would rightfully be kicked out of Starfleet for this. She’d just vandalized a ship, and possibly hide the reason its crew was dead.

“Ensign, I don’t know what’s going on,” Kazansky said, feeling lost and afloat. Things that should not be happening were happening. Impossible photos were on the computer. There was only one conclusion. Q!

“It must be Q,” she said nodding, having finally figured it out.

“Q?, really?”, Stroyer asked, her expression betraying that she didn’t quite believe Kazansky. “I thought that was a fairy-tale.”

She frowned, deciding to offer a little more active support in securing the files – mostly because she didn’t want to see more of them ‘accidentally deleted’. She glanced at the other woman, and for the first time noticed a similarity to someone she had met before – but that could hardly be possible. How would a criminal make it to Starfleet? Unless…. unless this was all part of a plan.

What plan that was, she didn’t know. She was however aware that it didn’t make any sense.

“What kind of pictures were they?”, she asked casually.

“Let’s not talk about that,” Kazansky said glancing at the intelligence officer, “I’m downloading the files.”

She did not add the part where she was only downloading those that she had not deleted, it seemed to be too much to point out that she had messed up. That much was likely clear to both women.

“I think something’s messing with our perception,” Kazansky said, the security officer taking the drive with the copied files and promising herself she was not going to smash it no matter what she assumed later was on there.

“I guess it’s probably not Q,” she confessed, “I only brought them up because I’m seeing impossible things. I thought maybe reality was warping. But it may just be my view on reality that’s mixed up. Does that make sense?”

The Ensign nodded. “I think we should find the others and get back to the ship. I don’t like any of this.”

She looked at Kazansky, wondering if the woman agreed… but before the other woman could, Stroyer heard something.

Was there someone crying? Certainly that couldn’t be true – they were alone here. Right?

And then the voice called her name, and the Ensign turned on her heels to sprint into the direction of the noise.

Shahr proceeded slowly through the derelict ship, tricorder held in front of him. He was scanning for… what was he scanning for? It’s not like the little computer had a sensor for “danger” or “insanity.” At the very least, it should tell him if a deranged crew member was about to jump out of the darkness.

“I think their sickbay is almost directly above us. But, I don’t see a convenient ladder, so we’re going to have to head down this passageway to some stairs, and double back.” Shahr said to Lieutenant Morishita, after consulting the map on his tricorder.

Hina nodded, shinging her light down the corridor. While she had gotten some power back, lighting hadnt been among the systems she had focused on. She was beginning to regret that decision immensely.

“Sounds fine to me… not as if we have much choice if we want to get there.” she said. She supposed they could always just say they didnt find anything and get the heck off this crazy ship they were stuck on, but she wasnt sure that would fly.

Shahr nodded in agreement, then turned his attention back to the blade in his hand. It was an Ushaan-tor. A miner’s pick that doubles as a ceremonial weapon. A small rivulet of blood ran down the serrated edge. He looked up at his opponent. It was his Imperial Guard copilot, from his atmospheric defense fighter a few years back. A cut on his cheek told Shahr that he must have landed a blow, but clearly it wasn’t enough to slow down his opponent. With a roar, Shahr’s former copilot stepped left. Shahr quickly pivoted to match, but his opponent was already shifting weight. A feint! Shahr realized too late he wasn’t going to be able to pivot back in time. He lifted his arm in futility, crying out as the enemy’s blade came singing towards his neck-

“AAAh!” Shahr yelled as he bumped into the Lieutenant. He jerked his head around. No Ushaan-tor in sight. His hand held a tricorder. He was standing on a derelict vessel, wearing a Starfleet uniform… definitely not in a duel for his life.

Hina whirled around as Shahr crashed into her. He seemed to be in the midst of some sort of episode. Which was terrifying in its own right, but fit right in with the atmosphere this ship was providing for them.

“Ensign?!” she yelled, grasping the man by the shoulders. “What is it?” she asked.

Shahr took a moment to catch a breath, his heart racing. He waited for it to slow, keeping his eyes on the Lieutenant to ground himself back in reality. “I… I believe I was hallucinating. For a moment, I was elsewhere. In a duel. A sword fight.” Shahr thought a moment. “I had a similar, but much less intense moment shortly after we came aboard, but at the time, I chalked it up to an unwanted memory. Now I am not convinced it was simply a daydream.”

Hina frowned. That wasnt a good sign. Whatever it was was getting worse. Her own incident had been relatively tame by comparison. She helped steady Shahr, patting him on the shoulder.

“We need to hurry… this is getting worse…” she said, pointing down the corridor. “How far until the stairs?”

Checking his tricorder again, Shahr saw they were close. “Looks like it’s about 20 meters. Should be in range of our flashlights as soon as we round this corner.”

“C’mon… let’s go then.” she said, turning to move off down the corridor. She blinked once and suddenly found herself in the corridor of a Federation ship. She took an additional step, and winced, limping. Thats right, she needed to get to sickbay. She had fallen down a jefferies tube, hitting her leg on the ladder before she arrested her fall. She braced herself against the wall, breathing. The Chief would be furious with her when she found out. She pushed off the wall, taking another step. She blinked again and the pristine corridor was replaced again by the darkened corridor of the alien vessel. Her eyes widened, whipping her head around. Shahr was only a step behind her. It had felt so real. She had been back on the Kongo, years ago, and she had fallen down a jefferies tube, hurt her leg pretty badly. She looked back at the andorian with her and just pointed down the corridor as if to say ‘faster’ before moving off herself.

Shahr quickened his pace, following Lieutenant Morishita. They rounded the bend without incident, and made it to the stairs. Climbing quickly, Shahr’s heart rate remained elevated. “I recommend we announce anything we see. We can keep one another accountable, since apparently we can’t trust our own senses.” Shahr suggested. “Obviously, I’m not back on Andoria like I saw a moment ago, but what if the next hallucination takes your place, or mine for you? This could get bad.”

Hina nodded. That sounded like a reasonable precaution. She only worried that the hallucinations might be so real that they would forget the plan.

“Sure… that sounds like a good idea.” she agreed, “Though at this point I’d say its already bad…”

“Affirmative.” Shahr nodded. A few more steps and they reached the sickbay. The door was stuck in a loop, cycling half-open and shut. Some of the lighting was operational inside, and it shone an eery light into the hallway each time the door cycled. Shahr waited for the engineer to take a look. She’d get it open faster than Shahr could.

Hina frowned at the door. Of course it wasnt going to be easy. She crossed ehr arms waving her light over the frame, looking for the manual override. She let her light settle on a panel moving over to it. She pried it off and discarded the cover, letting it clatter to the ground. She shined the light inside illuminating the release level and then reached in and gave it a firm yank. It sparked and came out in one piece, the door looking in a half open position. She rolled her eyes, letting the handle drop to the deck as well.

“Well… atleast the door wont crush us now…” she said.

Shahr grinned wryly. “One less concern on this nightmare ship.”

She nodded, squeezing herself through the door ahead of Shahr. She sidled through it sideways, and found herself in a brightly lit pristine sickbay. She looked around, trying to remember something. Why had she come there. It has been important. She looked down at her leg, gingerly taking a step. She winced and took her weight off it again. Right, she had fallen down the jefferies tube.

“Doctor!” she called, limping toward one of the bio beds. A raven haired man appeared, poking his head out of the office. He hurried over to her.

“Lieutenant… what have you done now?” he asked, assisting her to the bio bed fully.

“I fell… down a jefferies tube…” she said quietly. He shook his head as she sat on the bed, examining her leg. She winced as he prodded her. He looked up.

“Im afraid it’ll have to be amputated…” he said. Hina blinked her heart rate spiking. What had he said? She scooted down the bio bed, away from the Doctor.

“Doctor Tarrant… I just fell… it cant be that bad…” she said. The Doctor clicked his tongue at her, retrieving a bone saw.

“Now now… this will only hurt a little bit…” he said. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t what had happened. The Doctor grabbed her leg, powering up the saw.

“No! Doctor! You cant!” she yelled. “Help!” she added, trying to back away for the Doctor.

Shahr watched Lieutenant Morishita climb through the broken doorway and pause. He figured she was just taking a cautious look around, but then he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. She started limping towards a biobed, then climbed onto it. “Oh no” he thought, and hurried to pull himself through the door. She was shouting now. Shahr rushed through the debris-strewn room and reached a hand out to grab his shipmate’s shoulder.

She jolted at the second touch, jumping from the bio bed she had been sitting on, letting out another yelp as she found herself back in the darkened sickbay of the cursed ship she was currently occupying. She looked at the andorian ensign, trying to regain control of herself. She looked down at her leg, still covered by the leg of her uniform pants and reached out to touch it, finding it still intact. She let out a shuddering breath.

“Thanks… he wanted to take my leg…” she said, looking at the empty biobed now. She was terrified now. Not that she hadn’t been before, but it was confirmed now.

“We were coming her for logs right… to try figure out how this happened?” she asked.

Looking at the Lieutenant’s leg, Shahr nodded. “Yes, or a crew member prone to exposition.” Shahr’s gaze shifted to the room now, scanning for any clues. “Though I think perhaps our best bet is the doctor’s log. Hopefully they had time to start investigating the situation…”

Making his way to the desk in the corner, Shahr tapped at the console built into the tabletop. He was worried it was dead, but after a moment, it flickered to life. “Looks like we might finally be in luck” he called out to Hina. Shahr glanced over to make sure she was still ok.

Hina was still staring at the biobed. She was feeling slightly sick to her stomach about what she had seen. She looked up as Shahr spoke.

“Good we could use it…” she muttered moving to another console without noticing how Shahar was acting. She tapped at the screen, which was half cracked and flcikering, but still displaying some information.

Whatever Hina had said, Shahr didn’t hear it. When he looked towards the biobed he’d left her at, his father was sitting there, looking back at him. They were seated around the dinner table, home on Andoria. Shahr had just told his parents he’d been accepted to Starfleet. To his father’s credit, he didn’t fly into a rage, as Shahr had expected. Instead, he looked about conspiratorially. “Don’t trust them, Shahr. Their jovial nature is a ruse. They want to rule. They’ll use you. Sidle up and smile, then slip a blade between your ribs when it suits them.”

“No, that’s ridiculous.” Shahr shot back. They’d been allied with the pink-skins (and the rest of the Federation) for hundreds of years! Nobody was stabbing anybody. “It isn’t the Imperial Guard. They work for the good of all! When I prove myself, I’ll move up without having to take out the competition.”

“It’s a great recruitment speech, and it clearly fooled you. You have to watch your back, son. Don’t fall for the lies! Don’t come home in a body bag! When they express concern, that’s when you have to be on your guard. Don’t let them get you!”

hina looked over to Shahr as he spoke. It was clear he was having a conversation, though with whom she didn’t know. She frowned. Was this ship really worth it? Why had they stayed here? Did it really matter what had happened? She crossed the room and stopped in front of Shahr, who was still looking at the biobed where she had previously been. She put a hand on his shoulder.

“Shahr? Its not real!”

Shahr blinked and the scene was gone. He was back in the creepy sickbay. He narrowed his eyes at the Lieutenant standing before him. What did she really want? Would Shahr make it back to the ship, or be a convenient casualty so Hina could take the credit for solving this mystery?

“You ok?” she asked, noticing the look. She removed her hand from his shoulder, stepping back. “Come on… we need to find something that will tell us what happened so we can get off this bloody ship…” she said.

Shahr shook his head, trying to clear it. Hina was a shipmate. A trusted shipmate. There was no conspiracy here. At least, not from the Valkyrie. This ship, on the other hand…

She started to turn away, before looking back.

“What was that conversation you were having anyway?” she asked, simply curious.

Hesitating only a brief moment, Shahr answered. “I was talking to my dad. Or rather, he was lecturing me. About… trusting Starfleet.” Shahr watched her eyes. “It’s ok. I’m ok. But you’re right. We need to get out of here. Let’s see what the doctor’s logs have to say.”

The console had finished powering up. Conveniently, the latest entry in the doctor’s log was already open. On closer inspection, it hadn’t been finished, Shahr noted. “Looks like Doc didn’t bother, or didn’t have time, to save his or her last report. Shall we give it a listen?” Without waiting for a reply, Shahr hit play.

The computer began replaying the doctor’s last log. “Medical log, possibly my last. I know now the crew’s mania is caused by the subspace distortions we’re trapped in. But I don’t know how to help them. I also know I’m affected as well. I thought I was just reminiscing at first, but the hallucinations grew stronger. A smell here, a sound there… turned into full blown, waking dreams. I estimate I’m only aware of my actual surroundings for about half the day, and I suspect it’ll get worse.”

Shahr paused the recording. “Uh. Do we want to sit here and listen to this? We can just download it and go. Your call Lieutenant, but I would recommend we minimize time spent here. I am worried about the progression of my hallucinations.”

Hina listened quietly to the log as it played out before Shahr stopped it. What the doctor had said made a lot of sense. It explained a lot about what had been happening to them on the ship. It almost made her wonder what was going on on the Valkyrie.

She looked to Shahr, shaking her head.

“No… I think we found what we were looking for… download the log and lets get out of here…” she said. The sooner they got off this ship and away from these distortions the better.

“Yes ma’am.” Shahr acknowledged, and turned back to the computer. He transferred the logs to his tricorder quickly, and turned back to the Lieutenant. In the flickering light, he saw his father standing behind her, mouthing the words “trust no one” to him. Shahr made eye contact with the aging Andorian only briefly, then tore his gaze away and looked at Hina.

“Got the logs. I feel like another episode might be coming on. I see my father in the room here… Let’s go before it turns into a full blown hallucination.” Shahr thought a second. “Can we beam out from here, or do we need to make it back to the beam in site? I just don’t want… I don’t want us to suffer the same fate as the crew.”

“Me either…” she said. She tapped her commbadge. “Morishita to Valkyrie.”

“Valkyrie here.” a voice replied. She had expected to hear Saffiya, but wasnt going to argue. She hoped the Valkyrie was dealing with things better than they were.

“Two to beam out… please.” she replied, praying that they could get a lock on them. It only took a few moments before she felt the familiar feeling of a transporter beam, whisking her away from the creepy civilian ship she had been sent to. She hoped the others were able to get out as well. She could see Shahr in his own transporter beam before she fully dematerialized, leaving the ship behind.

Selara absently stirred her tea, making a clinking noise as she did so. She watched the people move back and forth along the Promenade. She let her mind wander, creating stories of the different groups of people. Where they were going and why. The nightmare last night troubled her, but there was nothing she could do about it. So she resolved she was going to do nothing about it. She smiled at her twisted logic that somehow made sense, at least to her.

A notification chimed that her transport shuttle was arriving. Selara finished her tea and stood, dropping off her cup at the replicator collection area. “This is just what I need to take my mind off of things. A new prospective in a new place,” she was already starting to feel better. By the time she reached the check-in area, she was humming a tune.

“Dr. Selara, transporting to the USS Valkyrie,” She declared, presenting a PADD to the officer. The officer nodded and she proceeded to the shuttle.

The ship was big, bigger than the Hathaway anyway. But it was older… no, something less offensive. It was more mature, more seasoned, more experienced. These thoughts trailed until she found herself on the bridge, at the captain’s ready room. She pressed the door chime.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the door opened, revealing as ready room that was about as personalised as a deactivated holodeck. A holodeck in maintenance mode, probably, considering that the desk was littered with PADDs and several half-empty cups of cold coffee.

The Captain herself was a young woman who looked she was combating a headache – which was pretty much true because Saffiya had been fishing for a PADD underneath her desk when the doorbell chimed, and promptly hit her head.

And since that wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of competence her new Assistant CMO was looking in a Commanding Officer, she kept that to herself.

“Not exactly how I wanted to play this, but welcome to the Valkyrie. I had meant to catch you at main transporter room but… well.”

‘Well’ in this case was a replacement for ‘work’.

“Yes, of course… It’s easy for one to get buried in their work,” Selara chuckled at her joke. “I like to walk around and orient myself when boarding a ship. It helps when I need to get somewhere in an emergency.”

Saffiya nodded. “Very true.”

“I suppose it’s obvious who I am, but introductions are always nice. Dr. Selara,” she extended her hand to the captain.

Human greeting, Saffiya thought, and shook the woman’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to have you on board. You come highly recommended, and I believe in particular Doctor Frisco will be looking forward to shift her focus to her tasks as Executive Officer.”

Selara was taken aback, “Oh heavens, dual duties of CMO and XO? I can’t imagine the stress she’s under.” Managing Sickbay took an incredible amount of focus, but adding the second most important post on the ship? It’s a surprise Dr. Frisco wasn’t manic. Or perhaps she was. “I’ll be more than happy to help out where I can.”

She paused, taking stock of the mound of PADDs, unsure if she should ask the next question. “I don’t mean to take you away from your work, but would you be able to show me around?” She quickly added, “If not, I can track down a Bridge officer.”

Saffiya walked around the desk, and motioned to the door. “I wouldn’t at all mind showing you around. It would also keep me from hitting my head on the table again.”

“Oh yes, that is a great plan,” Selara smiled. She made her way to the door and waited for the captain to lead the way.

The Captain seemed a lot more relaxed as soon as the doors to her ready room closed – something to be said about leaving work behind. The tour through the ship was short and to the point, mostly because it left out all the boring parts and concentrated on the things that mattered: Odin’s Palace – the captain’s mess and lounge located on Deck 01 – to which Saffiya tended to invite crew members when she wanted to talk to them in a more comforting environment than her ready room, and a more private setting than Valhalla. The conference room, main Engineering, and then Valhalla, which was the main lounge for crew of any rank, and a place Saffiya liked to visit whenever she felt she wanted to connect to the crew members she didn’t usually get to talk to.

Selara listened and observed with rapt interest. In her mind she was making a map, noting all of the route they took, and theorizing the quickest ways from point A to B.

And then, there was sickbay: Busy as usual, but staffed with a wide array of doctors, nurses and mental health specialists working in various offices or on patients.

“Ah, I think I’ll get off the tour here,” Selara smiled. “I was planning on meeting with the CMO anyway. And then hit the ground running.” She nodded, “Thank you captain, this has been quite educational.”

“The pleasure was all mine.”, Saffiya smiled. “And now I am going to find someone to take care of that headache.”

She gave a nod, and then turned towards one of the nurses rather than finding Frisco to tell her that she had managed to hit her head on her desk. The woman would never let her forget it.

There was a certain stereotype involving certain duty posts, even if they weren’t entirely true if one truly looked at statistics. It was a certain expectation of a Betazoid being a Counsellor – they were empaths, after all, so dealing with people’s feelings seemed fitting – and Klingons being Security Officers because they tended to be physically superior to many other species.

Usually, Saffiya was fairly sure that she had ditched those stereotypes as part of her journey through the ranks, but regardless, she had found herself surprised upon getting transfer papers for a Klingon doctor. That was the second Klingon that didn’t fit the stereotype of “Blood and Honour!”, and the Captain found herself very much looking forward to meeting him.

And because she was a little impatient sometimes, she did so as soon as the poor man had arrived and been assigned his quarters, and before he could make it more than a few feet out of his door.

“Ensign Ovam.”, she said – a little too enthusiastically perhaps. “Welcome to the Valkyrie.”

Ovam was getting his bearings. It was always strange getting settled in new quarters. To be honest he didn’t get much sleep. There was a sense of anticipation that was a bit overwhelming. Every assignment, every command, and every place were different. His time within Valhalla was an unexpected respite and as he left his quarters to report to the sickbay he was suddenly face to face with his Captain.

To be honest he was surprised, he even felt his pulse increase and his jaw tighten out of reflex. He clenched his fist, a natural reaction when a Klingon faced an ambush. After a moment, he took in a deep breath and only manage to articulate one word.

“Captain?”

Saffiya offered a vaguely pacifying gesture. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” She paused. “I do see that I did not succeed.”

When she apologized, he was taken aback. Before Starfleet most of his experience of officers were other Klingons. Apologizing wasn’t their way; it was an odd experience receiving an apology. When she implied that he was startled he ground his teeth, was she trying to insult him? No… Starfleet was different, he knew better instead he offered a small smile.

“No need to apologize ma’am,” he replied in a more neutral tone.

Saffiya inclined her head. No apologising to Klingons. Got it.

“Did I do anything wrong,” he asked her more bluntly.

“No, not at all.”, she said and shook her head. “I am trying to meet with all new officers, and my ready room is so embarrassingly messy that I figured I would just come here instead.”
Which, she realized now, had been a rather bad idea.

He hated small talk and as he stared at her he lightly cleared his throat.

“Please come in,” he finally said as he opened his quarters and stepped aside for her to enter.

Saffiya sighed internally. This was really not going the way she had planned – but then again nothing ever seemed to go like planned, and she had long learned to be somewhat flexible.

It was sparsely decorated; it was evident that he was still figuring out how he wanted to organize his quarters by the random objects scattered around.

“Would you like anything to drink? Maybe some bloodw…. Some tea,” he asked catching himself and offering a more appropriate drink.

Saffiya smirked. “Oh I do drink bloodwine.”

Ovam stopped and awkwardly turned to face her.

“I owe you an apology Ma’am, I think I misjudged you,” he told her honestly. He didn’t bother to ask her as he made his way to the barrel he had shoved into a corner. He grabbed two mugs and filled them.

The Captain took a seat, taking in her surroundings. It didn’t look so different from her own personal quarters – who had time to decorate? – just a lot less of a mess. “I make it a rule to taste everything at least once, no matter how odd it sounds. I think a lot of people seem to forget that even Humans had and have popular dishes with ingredients that are not commonly associated with food.”

She was thinking about ancient Spartan black soup, which contained blood. Or the fact that insects were still staple in the cultures that didn’t want to rely on replicators.

As she got herself seated Ovam returned with her mug placing it before her. He took the seat across from her and placed his mug before him.

“You would have gotten along with my father, he had the same philosophy and so do I,” he told her.

She shrugged. “People are put off by the strangest of things, and talk about others because if they were to talk about themselves, no one would listen. I am somewhat sure as a medical officer you’ve faced that one way or the other.”

“Unfortunately, it is common among most civilizations even among Klingons. People call me names like Doctor Death behind my back. They can’t accept that a Klingon is in a vocation which focuses on making people better. The only difference is slandering someone could mean death where I come from. I… Feel like I don’t walk on what do you call them? Egg shells? That’s the phrase right?”

“I can assure you that Lieutenant Frisco will not allow those nicknames.”, Saffiya frowned. “And I understand the idea of having to… walk on egg shells.”

“The federation facilitates a culture where we can be open with words, it’s a double edged blade because people can gossip without repercussions,” he told her as he grabbed his goblet.

“Not entirely without repercussions. I suppose what you have to consider is that, more often than not, it’s a game. A pastime people play when they are bored. A way to connect. Still, there’s a line to be drawn – and I am sure you will find your place here.”

“Captain, it would be my honor to drink with you. IwlIj jachjaj,” he roared before he his goblet and taking a gulp of blood wine.

“May your blood scream.”, she replied as she took a – much smaller – gulp from her own goblet.

Saffiya admired and appreciated medical staff in general, but Counsellors in particular. Health – no matter whether it was physical or mental – was the very foundation that made a functioning and effective person. It required not only advanced skills and fields ranging from xeno-biology to diplomacy, but also the ability to set ones personal feelings and struggles aside for the benefit of the patient.

Yes, Saffiya appreciated Consellors. She just didn’t appreciate working with them.

Or rather, they were fine to work with if the attention was on someone else, but it was infinitely more difficult to open up about her own feelings.

Luckily, today, it wasn’t about those pesky little emotions. It was about welcoming their newest Counsellor to the crew, and Saffiya was absolutely looking forward to doing that. Uncharacteristically, she was choosing her ready room to do that – mostly because she hadn’t been able to make it to the shuttle bay on time.

And so, she simply waited for the doors to slide open – one of the rare moments she had an actual open door policy – and greeted her new officer with a “Ah, Lieutenant Anderson. It’s good to finally meet you.”

Rob’s journey to the Valkyrie was, to say the least, uneventful. He would have welcomed some action at least then, his mind would be occupied. Sitting alone in the shuttle, he had nothing but his own thoughts for company, and there were times when too much thinking wasn’t a good thing.

The trip to the ready room was quick. Sovereign-class starships were relatively common, and once he located the nearest lift, it was a straightforward ride up. Meeting the Captain was the next step, one that new officers often dreaded. Those initial encounters were always awkward: would the Captain be rigid and demanding, or approachable and supportive?

Rob looked up, realizing he hadn’t yet spoken. “Lieutenant Robert Anderson, reporting for duty.” He paused. “Captain.” He stood still, remembering one critical piece of advice from training: never move until the Captain spoke first.

Saffiya motioned to the chair opposite of her. “Please, take a seat.”, she added, and allowed herself a moment to glance at the Counsellor’s personnel file. He was one of a large number of new faces that were joining the crew of the Valkyrie, and the Captain found herself wondering just how much work that would mean for her counsellors.
While she didn’t exactly pry into people’s personal life, she did make note of things that needed to be kept an eye on – a difficult family situation, or a traumatic away mission.

“Welcome to the Valkyrie.”, she said eventually. “I hope you made it here without too much inconvenience. We have had several new crew join us in the recent weeks, and there will be a few more going forward.”

“The trip was rather pleasant, long but pleasant,” Rob moved to a chair and sat down. “That seems to be the normal life of a Starfleet Officer.  Always coming and going, one never is able to adjust and settle too long. Hopefully, our Chief Counselor has been here long enough to help in the adjustment period.”

The Captain nodded. “That’s a fair assessment. At the moment, we do not have a Chief Counsellor to facilitate that, and you would be working with Lieutenant Karev to organise the group of mental health specialists we have available at the moment.” She paused. “In the meanwhile you would be reporting to Commander Frisco, our Chief Medical Officer.”

“Wonderful,” Rob smiled, “I had hoped to meet Doctor Frisco to discuss picking up a shift here and there to keep my medical skills in check.”  Rob took a moment to look around the room, “I must admit my first position and still green; I wasn’t expecting a Sovereign-class starship.  I figured I would get something smaller to get my feet wet.”

He sighed, “But recent events have changed a lot of things for us all.”

“I know exactly how you feel.”, Saffiya admitted. “My first posting as Captain was a California-class vessel, the USS Cupertino. It was pretty much what I expected, but barely spent a month on it before I was transferred here. This is… very different.

“I can only imagine, going from a California to,” he gestured, “well this.  It’s quite the upgrade. Did the previous Captain, retire?”

She shook her head. “Oh no. The previous Captain had never meant to retire – his resignation was forged by a half-sentient artificial lifeform that had lodged itself into the ship’s computer. He returned to the ship and I came here.”

She left out the part where her first mission aboard that vessel had been absolutely horrific.

“I haven’t been in Starfleet for very long,” Rob said with a smile, “but I’ve picked up on one thing: they really like to keep everyone on their toes. After Frontier Day, everything shifted some changes were positive, while others were just plain necessary. Yet, through it all, change appears to be the only constant.”

He took a deep breath to calm himself. “So, what’s our current mission? I have to admit, I didn’t get much of a chance to review the details.”

“We are headed towards an area for which he have received reports that hint on an alien presence – perhaps even a visitor from another part of the galaxy who came her when the subspace apertures opened.”, Saffiya explained. Truth be told, she was excited about this – it was, after all, an opportunity for First Contact, and having been stranded in Underspace herself, she could very much relate to how frightening the experience could be.

“Sounds very interesting, returning to the Federation mandate,” Rob paused, “seek out new life,  the motto that started it all.”

“In the meanwhile, I suggest you familiarise yourself with the ship, and in particular the places crew like to frequent on their time off – that’s not only important for you, but I have found that being a casually approachable presence on the ship helps to foster good connections.”

Rob stood up with a nod, sensing the end of the meeting.  “With your permission, I will head to medical get that part out of the way, then maybe a tour of the ship,  mingle.”

“A good idea.”, Saffiya nodded. “There will be plenty time for us to catch up.”

Mostly because there was a good chance she herself would need to consult a counsellor sooner or later. Probably later.

Captain Saffiya Nassar was well aware that a Commanding Officer wasn’t required to personally greet every new officer on their ship, especially not one of the size of the Valkyrie. At best, it was a First Officer’s job, but even then frequently was delegated down the chain.

The thing was that Saffiya very much enjoyed doing it herself, and made time whenever possible. Their newest member of the science devision came with an excellent recommendation and track record from Starfleet Academy – both of which had made her curious.

There would, of course, have been the option to summon the Ensign Irovin to her Ready Room – but that would be boring. Instead, she waited in the shuttle bay.

“Ensign.”, she said, offering a warm smile after giving the younger woman just enough time to wonder where to head to next. She paused, allowing additional time for her to register who Saffiya was. “I hope you had a pleasant journey. Did it take you long to make it here?

Tanna stepped off of the shuttlecraft ramp and turned a slow circle, taking in the immensity that was the shuttlebay. “This feels almost big enough to fit the whole Cromwell” she muttered to herself in amazement. The giant room was buzzing with motion and energy, as people went about their duties, with hardly a glance in her direction. U.S.S VALKYRIE NCC-74877 was emblazoned proudly along the wall opposite, positioned over the deck plan. She was about start towards it when she noticed someone cutting across the floor, directly towards her. Tanna’s eyes shifted to her collar, where she finally took note of the four shiny silver pips.

As her new captain reached her and asked how the journey was, Tanna found herself startled, and feeling suddenly apprehensive. Captains don’t usually meet Ensigns in the shuttlebay, do they? she thought to herself, starting to worry if there had been a mistake somewhere. She realized a few moments later with growing anxiety that she still hadn’t replied to the question. “Captain!” she said, much louder than she intended, and immediately felt her face flush red. “It was a lovely little break.” she continued slowly, regaining her composure, “It wasn’t too long, only about 36 hours. Just enough time for me to take in a few of my favorite movies.”  And one of Abigail’s. she thought, but kept that to herself. No sense in having a breakdown in the first five minutes. “This is so much bigger than my last ship” she said, “I can’t wait to get lost exploring her decks”.

Saffiya smirked at the Ensigns reaction, founding it charming more than anything else. “I promise you that you will get lost a lot, I still do.”, she confessed, motioning the woman to join her as she headed towards the nearest turbolift.

“On you, Captain”, Tanna said, jumping into step behind her new CO. They crossed the shuttlebay floor with a speed appropriate a captain, fast enough to get somewhere quickly, but slowly enough to take in the surroundings. How does she do that? Tanna thought as she watched The Captain move through the commotion with ease, seeming at times to even float above the deck, while she did her best to match pace a step or two behind, not wanting to get too close or stray too far away, or get run into by another crew member. They made it to the turbolift, and as the doors hissed closed, Tanna turned to The Captain and spoke up, “What’s next, ma’am? Would you like me to head to a lab and get right to work?”

The Captain considered for a moment. “Well, the official first steps are to get assigned to your quarters – Ensigns usually share with one other Ensign, but I know we are not at full capacity and you might be able to get single quarters for the time being, if you ask the quartermaster nicely.”, she replied with a wink. “And then, before the start of your first shift, there is a medical check-up. But since the first day is meant to arrive and get to know your new ship, there is ample time for that – if you are hungry, we could stop by Valhalla.”

Valhalla was the main relaxation space for the crew, and although Saffiya frequented the senior lounge, she often made a point of visiting Valhalla at least once a week, and connect to the members of her crew she didn’t usually get to interact with.

As those last words left The Captain’s mouth, almost on cue Tanna’s stomach gave a loud growl which felt like it echoed off the walls in the turbolift, and her eyes met the kind gaze of her new CO. “I could definitely go for a bite” she said as her face again turned red, “Breakfast was quite a while ago it seems” Soon enough the turbolift came to a stop, and the doors opened to a corridor both totally alien, and totally familiar.

A few moments later, they entered what Saffiya had affectionately nicknamed \”The Gates to Valhalla\”, which were plain doors that slid open with a quiet hiss as they approached. Beyond that, however, the designs and decoration had nothing to do with Starfleet’s usual utilitarian look.

Valhalla was largely kept in the style of ancient Norse cultures, blending it effortlessly with the progression of time that had eventually led them to space travel.

A waiter approached, greeting the Captain before offering both officers a table, where they sat down and browsed the menu. “You know…”, said Saffiya, her voice low and a conspiratory glint in her eyes, \”When I first arrived on the Valkyrie, I came here in civilian clothing – and promptly found myself among a group of Ensigns who loudly spread theories and rumours about the new Captain.”

Tanna let out a loud laugh, and slapped the table with her hand. “No way!” she exclaimed, “How did you get out of that?” This is nice, she thought letting her smile carry on after the laughter had ended, It’s nice to not have people feeling sorry for me for a change. 

“I just played along and added my own theories.”, Saffiya grinned.

Tanna took a look around this communal space, decorated in some ancient earth fashion, and let out a sign of contention. She had opted out of any synthohol as she wasn’t sure what was in store after this friendly introductory discourse, and wanted to make sure she was fit for duty.

Her thoughts soon betrayed her, however, when she started thinking about room assignments, and whether she would have a roommate. Her last roommate was of course, Abigail, and those two thoughts chained themselves together way too quickly, preceding the all too familiar flood of fond memories. She felt her breath catch in her throat, and she reflexively lifted her left hand to her right shoulder, letting it run over the cold metallic surface hidden underneath her uniform. The Captain must have noticed, because when Tanna caught herself and lifted her head again, she was met with a look of genuine concern.

“Is everything alright, Ensign?”, Saffiya asked gently. She was still learning to be a people-person, but she could tell when something was up.

“Apologies, Captain.” Tanna said quickly, “It’s an injury I sustained on an away mission. It’s pretty gruesome though, so I’ll spare you the gory details. It still hurts quite a bit once in a while.” No breakdowns, she told herself, not on the first day. Tanna did her best to cheer back up, and she reminded herself of of all the amazing opportunities here. It’ll get better with time, the doctor had said to her, the pain and the hurt.  “This place is pretty amazing,” she said as she collected herself, “I’ve never seen a Viking tavern on a starship before. Was this your idea?”

“Oh no, it was like that when I came. I am fairly sure someone looked up Valkyries and decided to make this the ship’s whole personality.”, Saffiya laughed, happy to let the other woman steer the conversation. “My last ship wasn’t nearly as fancy as this one. How are your Academy-colleagues taking that you got a first assignment like this one? I think I would have been hugely jealous.”

“Oh, yes.” Tanna said flashing an excited grin, “Most of my classmates wound up on Novas like the Cromwell or Oberths.To get a posting on a Sovereign is pretty amazing. Especially the Valkyrie, she’s a pretty sought after lady. One of my classmates almost got posted to the Enterprise! Could you imagine? He didn’t of course, because it’s super exclusive, from what I hear. For me, after what happened during my year on the Cromwell, I had to make a change. It was really just luck that you had an open position right when I was searching. That’s not to say I don’t want to be here Ma’am, I was really excited to get the job. I just can’t believe I got so lucky. You know, I’m actually planning on calling one of my classmates once I get settled into my quarters, you know, just to gloat a little bit.” She let out a small, devilish laugh. She closed her menu and set it down on the table. “What about you, Captain, what brought you here to the Valkyrie?”

“I got my own Command not too long ago – the USS Cupertino – but her previous Captain had never meant to retire. So I was transferred here.”

Tanna sat back after finishing her meal, and took another drink. “Amazing,” she exclaimed quietly, “It’s my dream to command my own ship one day. It sounds so exciting.”

Saffy grinned. She didn’t mention how awful her very first mission aboard the Cupertino had been, and how she was still struggling with the fallout of their descent into underspace. Instead, she mirrored the Ensigns enthusiasm. “That’s the great thing – it’s all in the cards for you, so to speak. The magic of Starfleet.”

Tanna leaned forward again, resting her chin on one hand. She reached out her other hand to the oil lamp that was illuminating the table, and waved it slowly back and forth in the flame. It wouldn’t burn her, of course, as it was just a hologram, but she enjoyed the way it danced and licked around her fingers. “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic” she quoted, “Imagine what Arthur C. Clark would say if he could see this. I find a lot of times we take for granted all the amazing technology in our lives. On ancient earth, even something as simple as light was so laborious, and we can recreate it with a little code and some computing power.” She paused for a second, then let out a laugh. “Sorry to wax poetic, Captain. I’ll try to keep my philosophizing to a minimum.”

“Oh please, I am all for philosophizing.”, the Captain responded. “Though I am more curious to learn more about what you envision in regards to your career – don’t worry, this is nor a formal interview, but I wouldn’t have gotten where I am if I didn’t have people who supported me. I already know you would like to command your own vessel at some point.”

“I’d love to be present at the birth of a star.” Tanna said excitedly, “Or be the first to discover a new species of life. Eventually I think I’d like to settle down on Earth and teach Astrophysics or Xenobiology at the academy. Did you know I’ve never actually been to Earth? My mom talks about it all the time, but I doubt it’s the same as when she was there.”

“Is there anything in the immediate future you would like to achieve?”

“I think for now, I would be content with getting myself buried in some work, and having some fun adventures. My last posting was a little traumatic, as you may have read in my file, and it would be nice to slow down a little.” Famous last words, she thought to herself as she sipped her water. Oh well, I guess we’ll see.  “What do you say, Captain, should we go see the Quartermaster and get my room sorted out? I think I’d like to get my things arranged.”

“Of course.”, Saffiya nodded. “I think I will remain here a little longer.”

She watched at the Ensign left, feeling quite positive about the interaction. Surely, the woman would make a great addition to the crew.

Tanna walked out of Valhalla and took a deep breath. That went really well she thought as she started walking down the corridor. “Computer,” She said out loud, “Please locate the Quartermaster”. The computer beeped in the affirmative, and after a few seconds, the familiar monotone voice of the computer came over the air.

<The Quartermaster is currently located on Deck 6> It said flatly.

“Can you please show me the way?” Tanna asked.

<Affirmative. Please follow the illuminated path.> Stated the disembodied voice of the computer, and then, along the wall, a series of lights flared up, and began strobing along the intend route, down the hall towards the turbolift. Tanna started following it, humming a song softly to herself as she went. When the turbolift came to a stop on Deck 6, and the doors opened with a quiet hiss, she was greeted again by the illuminated path. After a left, then a right, then another right, she found herself at the quartermaster.

“Hello there, I am Ensign Tanna Irovin, here for my room assignment.” She said to the closed door.

“Come in.” came a deep voice from the other side, and the door opened into the room. It was well appointed and tidy, and the walls were covered in many traditional ornaments from seemingly endless different cultures. A tidy Andorian man came out from another part of the quarters and looked Tanna over for a second. “Yes,” he said eventually, “I figured you would be coming to see me. Let me see now” he said as he worked a little on his PADD. “Yes, there is a bunk open in a room on Deck 10. Good news, it’s on the outer wall, so you can have a window. Bad news, you have to share with someone. Ensign Battle. She’s human I believe.”

Oh no. Tanna thought as she started to panic a little. “Is there any way I could be assigned a room on my own?” she asked, letting the panic creep into her voice a little. Maybe he’ll think it’s personal, and take pity on me. 

“No can do, I’m afraid.” he replied, in a tone that said he wasn’t up to debate. “Shall I have the Shuttlebay crew move your belongings from the shuttle?”

“Yes, please Sir” she answered, feeling rather anxious and deflated.

She left his quarters and again asked the computer for directions, this time, to her new home on Deck 10. I hope, at least, I’m alone when I get there  she thought to herself as the turbolift whooshed her towards the bottom of the ship. I think I’m going to need some time to process this before I meet them, whoever they are. The door opened, and she followed the lights down the corridor, then a right, and a left, another right, past several corridors branching off of this main walkway, until it ended in a “T” crossing. She followed the lights to the right again, and before long she was standing in front of her door. She pushed the door chime, and waited for a response. After no one answered, she pushed another button, and the door slid open, revealing her new room.

There was a moderately sized common room, that had a long sofa built into the wall where the windows were, and she could tell by the direction of the passing stars that they were in the front quarter of the deck. In the middle of the room was a nice, yet simple glass coffee table, upon which were a couple old dishes, and some kind of candelabra. Flanking this room in either wall was a smaller hole, about hip height from the floor. That one must be mine, she thought as she looked at the berth in the bowside wall, which had an open shutter, and a very not lived in look about it. It also happened to be the one where her boxes of stuff were stacked neatly, waiting to be unpacked. Between her berth and the wall there was another door, which lead to the head, and sonic shower. “Ooh, I’d love a shower”, she said out loud to herself, “I think the unpacking can wait a little bit.” She went up to the door and opened it. It was a small bathroom, but it had everything someone needed, much like her room aboard the Cromwell.

She went into the bathroom, and stripped herself down, then stopped a moment and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She ran her hand over the metal implant that covered the majority of her right shoulder. It was sleek, and as small as possible for the job it had, connecting her nerve endings between her shoulder and her torso, but to her, it may as well have been her whole arm. She ran her fingers along the large, rough scar tissue that was her underarm, which started several inches lower, on her ribs, and crossed over onto her shoulder blade, and ended near the middle of her back. She hated the sight of it, a constant reminder of those two horrifying days on the surface of that planet. She took a deep breath, stepped into the shower and turned it on. Within minutes, she was balled up on the floor, sobs racking her body uncontrollably. It will get better, the doctor had said, but Tanna couldn’t see how it could ever get better after that. Even after three months, she still saw Abigail in her mind everyday, and it hurt. Of all the people to die on that planet, why did it have to be her?! She screamed silently into her knees, and why did I live?

It was several more minutes before she was able to bring her crying back under control enough to stand up and finish her shower. She got out, wrapped herself in a towel, and headed back out to the common room, on the hunt for an old t-shirt and shorts to put on. When the door to the bathroom opened, she immediately noticed the berth on the opposite wall was now open, and there was a body standing in front of it, in its own level of disrobement. “OHMIGOD” came a voice that Tanna wasn’t immediately sure wasn’t her own, as the figure turned around in an instant to catch the intruder. “WHOAREYOU?” cried the woman, as she quickly covered herself with a baggy knit sweater.

“Shit, sorry” Tanna replied, slapping one hand over her eyes, and holding the other out in front of her, as if to signal she was unarmed. “My name is Tanna, I guess I’m your new bunkmate?”

“You scared the shit out of me” said the woman, who was clearly the Ensign Battle that the quartermaster had mentioned. “My name is Laura, and you can move your hand, I’m decent. Well, decent enough.” She let out a small laugh in a bid to ease this incredibly awkward introduction, “Though I’m not sure I can say the same about you.”

Tanna shuffled speechless over to her pile of boxes, rifled through the one labelled “Clothes” and emerged from behind the stack wearing an oversized, but faded t-shirt depicting a quartet of cartoonish, anthropomorphized turtles wearing bright colored masks over their eyes, and a pair of knee length shorts. “I am so sorry” she said finally, “I thought I was alone.”

“No worries,” Laura replied, “If we are going to be living together, it’s going to be awkward more than once. I won’t make it weird if you don’t.”

“Deal” said Tanna, “Want some pizza?”

Captain Saffiya Nassar had gone through the different stages of grief after her first mission on the USS Cupertino.

Denial. After years of building an excellent track record – first as Engineering Officer, then Chief Engineer, and then as Executive Officer – she finally had her own command, and that very first mission aboard the ship ended up in the death of several members of her crew. They had been dragged into underspace, then confronted a Cardassian warship, which in itself made no sense to happen to a California class vessel.

Anger. Why had this happened in the first place? Did Starfleet Intelligence really have no idea what was going on? And Keller, had she really needed to just stand there rather than get herself into safety? Yes, Saffiya had failed to call for yellow alert, but she wasn’t exactly the only person on the bridge able to do so.
Then again, she was the Captain. So most of that anger was directed at herself.

Bargaining. Maybe she could have changed things. Perhaps if she never had set out to find Jurev, no one would have gotten hurt. Or perhaps… well, weird temporal distortions happened all the time. Maybe she could even get the people back?

Depression. Days of not leaving her quarters unless she had to. Days on which the guilt overwhelmed her. Days that didn’t seem to end, and on which no amount of talking to friends, mentors and counsellors could change how she felt about herself, and her role in what had happened.

And then, acceptance. Yes, it had happened. Yes, Saffiya’s inexperience had played a part in it, and there was nothing to do but to honour the memory of those who had passed by making better decisions for the future. It was why the Captain was taking a (for her) entirely new approach. She connected with her crew, tried to get to know them, and if people disapproved of her for one reason or the other, she simply accepted it.
It made things better. At least Saffiya had believed that it was making things better.

Of course, those stages of grief weren’t linear. She didn’t leave the one, and moved on to the other, but lingered in anger for days before returning to denial, only to wake up one day and find that she was back to her path on acceptance.

Now, however, she found that there was another stage to it. Insanity.

The accusatory voices wouldn’t stop, detailing every little thing she had done wrong, could have done differently, and spouting dark prophesies for the future. Saffiya tried not to listen.

But she also didn’t pay as much attention to everything else than she usually would – otherwise she would have noticed that she wasn’t the only one hearing things that weren’t there, and that where entirely unpleasant to deal with.

It wasn’t until an officer on the science station turned to her, and screamed something about a a black hole that definitely wasn’t there, that she recognised that maybe she wasn’t going insane.

Or that, at least, she wasn’t the only one.

Tanna had been enjoying her new roommate’s company, as much as she could. It was still weird, but Laura was polite and funny. She had helped Tanna unpack, excited at all the old earth memorabilia Tanna had brought with her. After about an hour or so of rearranging, the comm panel started pinging, and the computer’s voice filled the common area.

Ensign Irovin, please report to sick bay for onboarding check-up it said, in its usual monotonous way.

“Well, I knew that was coming eventually,” Tanna said, opening a small door beside her bunk and removing a clean uniform from it. “Hopefully it doesn’t take too long.” Within a minute or two she was back in uniform and headed up to sickbay. Here we go, she thought as she walked along the corridor, I suppose the doctor is going to ask all about my shoulder. I don’t like telling that story. She made it to the doors of sickbay, took a deep breath, and stepped through them. “Hello?” She said loudly, “Ensign Irovin her for my check-up?”

“Ah yes, Ensign! Please come in!” Selara replied, motioning Tanna to a nearby biobed. “A fellow woman of science, I like you already,” Selara smiled. Tanna being a science officer wasn’t a surprise, Selara had already reviewed her profile. However, it was a good icebreaker. “I’m glad you were so prompt. Usually, I have to hunt people down and threaten to relieve them of duty, the whole rigmarole” she exaggeratively gestured. “Regardless, thank you.”

Tanna sat down on the biobed, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. The Cromwell’s doctor has been such a stuffy man, always impatient and mildly rude, despite his level of care and concern for his crew. “My old captain used to call me obsessively punctual,” she said with a small chuckle. “I was once a minute late, and he made a point of sending a security team to my lab to ‘make sure I was still alive'”.  She added, putting her hands up and making air quotes. “I do very much enjoy what I do, and being on time for medical appointments lets me do that unhindered.”

“I took the liberty of pulling your medical records from the Cromwell,” Selara said, studying a nearby PADD. “I imagine it’s quite the jump from a Nova-class. So my first question is, how many times have you gotten lost?” She chuckled as she picked up the tricorder.

Tanna chuckled again. “Well, I’ve only been on board a few hours, so I’ve had the computer hold my hand through most of my journey so far. Plus, the Captain was there to greet me when I arrived, which I thought was kind of weird, does she do that for everyone?”

“I think so,” Selara chuckled, methodically moving the probe about Tanna’s body. “She strikes me as a more hands-on captain. I’ll admit it is welcoming, if not a little odd,” She shrugged and continued her scan.

“Well luckily for me,” Tanna continued, “I had her help for the first bit as well. I did still manage to mess up getting to my new quarters, though, and wound up walking into a storage room filled with scanners and tricorders” The ease at which Tanna felt words coming to her lifted her spirits. Talking with her crewmates aboard the Cromwell had been such a chore at the end, with all the looks of pity or suppressed rage she received. The Valkyrie, in comparison, was full of cheerful, welcoming faces, and that was a good thing. “How am I looking, doctor?” She asked.

“I should have had you grab one. We just sent one in for repairs,” Selara chuckled. “Things are looking good,” she spoke while moving her attention between the tricorder, PADD, and Tanna. “Your body has responded well to the implants,” Selara made one more pass over Tanna’s right side and studied the tricorder. She replaced the tricorder’s probe. “How is your body physically adjusting to the graft? Any pain or range of motion hindrance?”

“Yes, sometimes I have trouble lifting my arm above my head,” Tanna replied, letting out a deep sigh. “And my fingers tingle for a good five minutes after I use a transporter.” She fought back tears as she spoke, her words catching in her throat for a moment. “If you’ve read my file, then you know how I got it.” That’s actually a relief, she thought, “Sometimes, I wish the explosion had just killed me. I hate this thing.”

Selara was putting away her equipment and stopped. “It’s natural to carry a bit of regr-.”

Tanna was crying now, letting the tears stream down her cheeks. “It’s hard to have people who lost loved ones look at you, a survivor, and hate you for being alive, like you’re personally responsible for their loved ones’ death. Or, to look at you like you’re a victim, and walk on eggshells around you, constantly asking ‘How are you doing?’ or ‘Are you okay?’ No! No, I’m not okay, god damn it! And then to be stuck with this?” She gestured to her shoulder. “People called me Borg. They either hated me, or they pitied me, and both are equally terrible.” She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry, Doctor. I should be talking to the counselor about all of this, not dumping it on you.” She gave her head a shake, and looked into the Doctor’s eyes, her own still wet with tears. “I’ll be alright. Everyone seems really nice here, and few know what happened, so, hopefully, I won’t have to deal with the looks as much.” She smiled and added “And if I find myself in that closet again, I’ll make sure to grab you a few tricorders.”

Selara listened intently, already having pulled up a chair and sat down. She met Tanna’s eyes, “Early in my career, I worked with a lot of Dominion War veterans. Most of them were merely surviving… some still are. It seems suffering is the universal tragedy,” she sighed. “These survivors would blame themselves and carry so much guilt because they missed death by a couple of centimeters.” She took Tanna’s hands into her own, “I have read your file about the incident, probably more in-depth than I needed. I never met Abigail, but I don’t believe she’d want her friend to suffer.”

“She wouldn’t want me to suffer.” Tanna repeated, “If I hadn’t convinced her to come with me to that planet, I wouldn’t be suffering.” She said, full of sadness and anger, “I would still have her, and we would still be on the Cromwell, and I wouldn’t be so alone, but I am, and I’m here, with nothing but a painful memory and a bunch of stupid hardware.”

Selara nodded in understanding, “In ancient times, cultures across the universe would carry talismans of the fallen. Typically they would carry them close to their hearts, thereby keeping the memories alive. And that’s my challenge to you.” She pulled her hands away. “Don’t think of your grafts as burdens, but remembrances. You carry your friend here,” she pointed to Tanna’s rib. “Here,” pointing to her collarbone. “And here,” finally to her shoulder. “These things don’t make you weak Ensign, on the contrary!” Selara smiled, “They make you stronger because you have the strength of your friend with you wherever you go.”

“I hope I can feel that way, one day,” Tanna said in a low voice. “For now, I’m going to focus on not doing this,” she said, making an exaggerated gesture at her tear-streaked face, “Every time someone looks my way, or asks me a question. I’m sure the strength is there, somewhere, I’m just not sure where yet.”

“I’m certain you will find it, one day,” Selara smiled warmly. “I’m going to put in a recommendation for a few sessions with Lieutenant Anderson.” She put up her hands to quell any protests, “All I ask is you give him a fair shake. If you don’t feel it’s helping, I’ll sign off the release.” She smiled, “And if you ever want to talk, I’ve been told I’m a sympathetic ear. And I’m going to hold you to those tricorders,” Selara chuckled.

“It would actually be good, I think, to speak to a professional about this,” Tanna said. She took another deep breath and let it all out, hoping it would lift her spirits a little and it did, sort of. She then smiled a little, and that helped too. “Now that I’ve finished my breakdown, what is your verdict? Am I fit for duty?” She asked.

“I believe you are, Ensign. Breakdown and all,” Selara chuckled.

“Thanks, Doctor,” Tanna said, sliding off the biobed. I’ll see you around.” Sher turned and headed back out the door, feeling much lighter than she had when she came in.

As Ensign Nevaeh Stroyer ran off Lieutenant Taylor Kazansky saw the corridor of Starbase 12, where she’d been a new baby Security Ensign, and had to chase teens and others who had caused a disturbance in the shopping and common areas of the station. Taking off at a run she yelled, “Hey you Frengi, drop whatever you stole and get on the ground.”

She was in good shape, obviously, as she was a security officer still, but lacked some of the sheer speed she’d had back then when she was still doing track and field. Still, her long legs and pursuit of the criminal brought her nearer to Stroyer. Or at least near enough for an attempted diving tackle of the younger woman. Launching herself in the air she tried wrapping her arms around the other woman’s torso and pulling her down.

“Help!”, screamed Stroyer as she was tackled, ending up painfully on the floor. She had no idea what Kazansky saw, but she was very aware of what she perceived – that reoccurring nightmare of an undercover missions gone wrong. It has never actually happened, but it was something the Ensign had always worried about.

She had to get a message out, no matter what it took. But first, she had to make sure the enemy stopped pursuing her.

No, she wasn’t a security officer, and she (quite literally) lacked the punch of one. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t putting up a pretty good fight as she struggled to break free, and eventually managed to do so.

She scrambled back to her feet, and if she had looked behind her, she would have seen Kazansky doing the same but running off into a different direction. Then again she didn’t even perceive the woman as Kazansky, so having “the enemy” make a run for it was more of a happy development than the reason of concern it truly was.

Naveah sprinted towards the nearest console, furiously inputting the necessary commands for a distress call… until the hallucination faded, and she stared at the initiated self-destruct sequence on the screen in front of her.

“Ensign Shahr? Lieutenant Morishita?”, she called out, and when no reply came, she tried the comms.

Ovam didn’t get much sleep, despite this he was in a good mood. It wasn’t anxiety but anticipation. A feeling of a fresh start. His record at Starbase Bravo wasn’t perfect. In a way, he felt like he was sent to the Valkyrie so he wouldn’t be Starbase Bravo’s problem. It was a sore topic and Ovam still felt strongly he was in the right.

To be honest he didn’t know much about Dr. Selara. He knew she outranked him, that she was also now his supervising physician. To think he had less than a year to finish being evaluated and if cleared would gain the title of Doctor himself. As he approached the door it hissed open, and he stepped in with confidence.

His eyes fell upon a female and he awkwardly cleared his throat.

“Ensign Ovam reports as ordered,” he said curtly.

“Ah Ensign, welcome,” Selara replied with her usual cheerfulness. “Fourth year, right?” She picked up a PADD. “Is there a particular area you feel you’re lacking? Or a specialty you’re interested in?”

Ovam looked at her blankly. She seemed to be a cheerful person. A type of temperament he wasn’t used to. Or was she mocking him? He couldn’t help but bite the inside of his cheek, something he did out of habit to stop him from wearing his emotion in his face. What would have been a look of complete disdain turned into a look of controlled annoyance.

“I am,” he responded bluntly.

She asked if there was something he wanted to work on he seemed pensive for a moment. Was this an attempt for him to find a weakness?

“I haven’t been able to get experience handling Xeno-Pathology yet,” he finally responded honestly.

Selara regarded the man as he spoke. He seemed… nervous? Annoyed? Definitely wanted to be somewhere other than here. He wasn’t the first tough nut she ever needed to crack though. Ovam reminded Selara a lot of her first husband: stoic and of few words.

“Ah, xenopathology… you’re in the right place for something like that,” she spread her arms to indicate the ship. “‘New life and new civilizations’, and all that,” she smiled.

“I’m going to send you something,” she typed into her PADD. “Where did I put- Ah, there it is! ‘The Works of Nenis and Veko, Volume IV’,” she read off the PADD. “Two doctors who are brilliant pathologists. They helped develop my surgical skills during my formative years. It might be a bit superfluous for your goal because they’re surgeons, but they use great detail. Sometimes too much detail,” she chuckled and shrugged, “but Vulcan writing tends to be… a lot.” Selara pressed buttons on the PADD and sent it to Ovam. “I’d recommend the holodeck simulations too.”

When she shifted her demeanor, he was taken aback. Suddenly, there was purpose as she started assigning him reading. When she mentioned Vulcan writing he broke out into a loud and boisterous laugh.

“You have no idea how hard I struggled in my earlier courses, my stubborn resolve is how I got through those bland journals,” he told her honestly.

Selara smiled internally; she was starting to crack the nut. She found that humor generally eases tension and puts people at ease. Laughter is the best medicine, after all.

Selara set down the PADD and looked at Ovam seriously. “What I really try to foster in my teams is a sense of belonging and connectivity. Yes, I’m your supervisor,” she waved away the notion, “but I’m also your colleague. We’re going to be working together, and we’ll succeed and fail on how our relationship works. I don’t like using ranks in non-emergency situations to make our focus on medicine, not Starfleet.”

Ovam was confused by this. Hierarchy and rank were important to his culture. It is one of the many things from Klingon Culture that made it easy to adapt to Starfleet. The idea of being more casual with someone who was his superior was uncomfortable.

“I…. Agree,” he said carefully even though he was still trying to figure out this idea of not using ranks.

“I am here to fight for people and to fight to keep them alive,” he said thoughtfully as a response regarding to focusing on medicine.

There was that hesitation again, Selara noted. She’d have to circle back to that later. “And fight you will, Mr. Ovam!” She cheerfully exclaimed, “It’s not always easy, and it can beat you down sometimes, but it’s always worth it. Do you have any questions?”

He gave her a genuine Klingon smile.

“No Ma’am, I mean Selara, let’s get to work,” he said gruffly.

“Doctor Selara, Mr. Ovam,” Selara emphasized with a smile. She began shuffling through the PADDs, “Let’s see what you can do. You’ll take beds 4, 6, and 7. I want full assessments and reports on each patient.” She handed him a PADD. “I look forward to your thoughts.”

“Counselor to the bridge.”, was the one thing Saffiya managed to say before feeling like her own voice was getting drowned out by those around her, some fictional, some very real. Whatever was happening here, it wasn’t only affecting her – it was affecting the rest of the bridge, and perhaps the rest of the crew.

The minutes that followed seemed to stretch to hours, until finally, the doors to the turbolift hissed open.

Rob had gotten the call, and to be honest, he hadn’t been expecting a trip to the bridge. Tapping his comm badge, his reply was simple. “On my way,” he turned to head to the nearest lift. The silence that followed filled his mind as he made the trip to the bridge. The game of what if seemed to play over and over in his mind until the lift doors opened.

Stepping onto the bridge, Rob looked around. “Captain,” he stated, “reporting as ordered.” It was hard not to be formal. He’d spent the last several years in training; it was hard to ignore that.

Saffiya looked at Anderson thoughtfully for a moment, then she jutted her chin towards the view screen which, to her, looked empty. “Ensign Usher is convinced that we are flying right into a supernova. Lieutenant Yelis is sure we are facing Klingons. I don’t see either of these things, but I am seeing a deceased member of my old crew right there at the console.”

Rob had experienced plenty in his short career, but this was truly a first. A small smile crossed his face, “Well, here’s hoping we can figure out what’s going on.” he hadn’t looked at the viewscreen yet, but as he turned, a cold, familiar chill crept down his spine. Something about this moment felt oddly wrong.

“My question to you is – what do you see?”

Rob froze as the images on the screen came to life. His heart pounded, his eyes locked onto the unmistakable, jagged shapes of Borg vessels. Vessels like the ones from the attack on Starbase 1. He instinctively grabbed his wrist, pressing his finger into his flesh in a circular motion, the repetitive pressure a desperate attempt to ground himself. “It’s not real,” he muttered under his breath.

Forcing himself to look away, Rob took a sharp breath. Sweat trickled down his face as he forced his eyes shut. “It’s not real,” he repeated, louder this time. Yet the chill running down his spine told him his mind wasn’t done with him. Not yet. He felt someone touch his shoulder; Rob instinctively jumped.

Okay, Saffiya thought to herself as she carefully tried to break the Counsellor free from his hallucination. This was not the reaction I hoped for. 

“It’s not real.”, she confirmed steadily. “Look at me… good. You and I are going to find out what is happening. But for that, I need you to tell me how I tell what’s true from what’s not.”

Rob took another breath, ignoring the Captain momentarily as he attempted to gather his thoughts.

Saffiya nodded. “I need logic. Give me a rundown of why people, when they hallucinate, hallucinate certain things. Are they liked dreams caused by the sub conscience?”

“Hallucinations,” he began, his voice shaky, “are often projections of our deepest fears or memories. The subconscious plays a significant role. It pulls fragments of experiences, trauma, or even anxieties to the surface. It’s why I’m seeing… them.” He motioned toward the screen, his voice breaking slightly. “Because that attack, what I saw that day, it’s burned into my mind. And now, it’s being fed back to me. But none of it’s real.”

Saffiya nodded. “It’s not real.”
Which could be understood as a kind of reassurance for the younger officer, but was just as much for her own sake. 

“The mind has a hard time distinguishing between real and imagined threats. Hallucinations feel real because they kidnap the same senses, sight, and sound, making them almost indistinguishable from reality.”

“So what is the solution? Because if we keep this up, we are going to eject the warpcore when Engineering starts hallucinating too, and I would rather not do that.”

Rob paused, “If this is happening to the crew, we’re dealing with something external. Something is affecting our neurotransmitters. It’s amplifying our fears and manifesting them as hallucinations. We need to look for a pattern. What are the triggers? Does proximity to certain areas of the ship make it worse? Do some people seem unaffected? That will tell us where to focus.”

“I suppose we can-…”, Saffiya started, when one of the other bridge officers let out a blood curdling scream.

Sil followed Lieutenant Frisco and kept Vivienne close by. After leaving Valhalla they were heading to Sickbay, or at least trying to.  He ignored the sight of Helena, that occasionally popped up from a corner, as they walked trough the corridors.

“Are we still far from Sickbay Lieutenant? I don’t think I am getting worse, but I am still seeing things.”

Vivienne looked to Frisco, very much wondering the same thing. She could deal with the hallucination – while her sister telling her how much of a failure she was wasn’t exactly pleasant, it was something she was very much used to – she was ill equipped to handle the erratic emotions of the crew that faced their own demons.

Sienna swallowed hard.  “Mom’s still taunting me with the gun, but ignoring her for now is working.  I’m trying not to think of the rest of my life’s struggles that could be used in whatever this is.  Whatever it is, it’s using things that are personal and close to us.”  She pushed forward, around the corner, and spotted the turbolift just within reach. “Being born on Vulcan and living with them for a long time helped me understand my emotions better.  Given what is happening around here, I wish I could have been born Vulcan instead.”  She glanced back at the two, keeping her eyes on them as they moved.  Being the XO and CMO simultaneously had been an interesting perpendicular collision of responsibilities.  That had been in the calm of the day.  This was the chaos of the night.

They reached the turbolift, and she gestured, “Get in.”  She groaned, “And that includes my mother, in case you wanted an update.”

“I’m sorry.”, Vivienne said earnestly, and followed along into the turbolift. She stepped a little closer to Silveira than was probably comfortable for either of them, which wasn’t because she felt terribly cuddly at the moment, but rather because the walls were crawling with imaginary insects.

Sil nodded and stepped inside. Considering the Lieutenants predicament, his hallucination wasn’t that bad.

He almost said something but, wisely he remained quiet, instead turning to Vivienne, who got closer to him.

“What happened, Vivienne?”

“There are bugs.”, she whispered.

He offered her a reassuring smile. Maybe telling her that they weren’t real, although true, wasn’t what Vivienne needed to hear. Sil replied in the same tone, although he was pretty sure Lieutenant Frisco could hear them. “Keep close if you feel safer.”

Vivienne nodded and stayed put, grateful that the Security Officer wasn’t spooked by bugs.

The turbolift doors shut, and Sil turned to Lieutenant Frisco.

“Lieutenant, I have a feeling even our Vulcan crewmates are affected by this.”

Sienna continued to force her focus away from everything around her, finding concentrating difficult. “Indicated by…?” Her medical training ran deeper than her command training, and her reflex was to diagnose, question, and hypothesize.

Sil shrugged. He was a Tactical officer, not a Doctor, but he could add two and two and wasn’t afraid to express his opinions.  “I think the best we could do is leave this area, but that not being possible, some sort of emotional blocker. And a powerful one considering the size and diversity of the crew.”

Frisco replied, “Then our only hope is in sickbay.”  The turbolift ground to a halt, and she felt some relief in her bones.  “It’s out this door and around the corner.”  She led them carefully out and into the corridor, fighting to ignore the various dead patients from her past staring back at her in the corridors.  “Whatever you’re seeing, you have to follow me.  We have to get to…”  The door to sickbay was wide open, and a prone body lay between the path of the doors, a quiet klaxon warning of a biological life sign preventing the door’s operation.  “Shit.”  She scrambled to the ensign, checking his vitals, “He’s alive.”  She glanced into the room, “Help me get him inside, so we can secure the door, at least.”

Vivienne nodded, and helped Frisco. Either this was a shared hallucination, or the body was very very real. She wasn’t sure which option was worse.

Sil kept slightly behind. He was walking slowly and repeating to himself, your in the ship corridor, your in the ship corridor. The way Lieutenant Frisco and Vivienne moved carelessly close to the mountains edge made the logical part of his brain rationalize.

But for someone who was afraid of heights, he was too close for his own comfort. No matter how many times he blinked. It was only after the Lieutenant called for help that he snapped out of it. Running to assist, he stepped inside, crossing Sickbay doors only to stop and see it destroyed. A huge hole was inside, and debris flickered against the forcefield that kept containment. “We still have Sickbay? All I see is a huge hole to space.”

Vivienne glanced at the perfectly normal looking sickbay – well, as normal as it could get. There were several crewmen who had either gotten themselves injured, or injured one another.

Sienna saw a functional sickbay, “Remember what we see isn’t real.  I see a normal sickbay, and Ms. Claybrook seems to not be worried about what she’s seeing – that maybe helpful for us as we go – if all three of us see the same thing, we can be worried.”

Someone seemed to have been clever enough to activate the EMH, who was already busy tending to patients. Vivienne looked at Frisco. “We need to find a way to fix this, or I have the feeling something really bad is going to happen…”

Sienna frowned, “We’ve got people hurt – we have to care for them.”  Her mind was being pulled in several directions with the visions of her mother, dead patients, and the confusion of not knowing what was real or imagined.  It was a lot to think about, she grumbled to herself.

Vivienne bit her lip. She wasn’t used to standing her ground in discussions, especially not with real Starfleet Officers, but this was different. “We need to figure out where the hallucinations come from and stop them. The EMH can tend to the patients.”

Sienna closed her eyes, practicing the methods of meditation and emotional control she’d learned while growing up on Vulcan.  She’d been doing this since the discovery in Valhalla, and the increased frequency of having to rely on decades-old training was starting to wear on her.  She opened them, “You make a point.  Let’s see what the lab can tell us.”

Sil blinked repeatedly, forcing himself to keep his head clear. He was still looking at space instead of Sickbay so he just turned to Lieutenant Frisco and Vivienne.

“Sounds good to me. I still see a hole instead of Sickbay so we really must hurry”

As the transporter confinement beam released him, and the twinkling lights faded, Shahr braced himself. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting… maybe a sudden wave of relief after getting off that ship? It didn’t come. At least he and Hina had made it back in one piece. Shahr just had to hope the hallucination-causing distortions wouldn’t plague him here. Hopefully those modifications he and the Lieutenant had worked on would help shield the crew from the subspace effects.

Hina was relieved to be back aboard the Valkyrie. The familiar and well lite transporter room was a sight for sore eyes. And yet she know that feeling wasn’t going to last. She looked to the transporter chief as they spoke a frown almost immediately crossing her face. That had been even quicker than she had been expecting.

“Welcome back Lieutenant, Ensign.” A crewman Shahr didn’t recognize addressed them from behind the control panel. He looked relieved to see a couple officers, which Shahr found concerning. “I just tried reporting your return to the bridge, but I’m not getting a response. I made an entry in the transporter logs, but I’m supposed to report it verbally too.”

Shahr shot a worried look at Hina, then tapped his own com badge. “Shahr to bridge.” Pause. “Ensign Shahr to any bridge crew, please respond.” Still nothing. This was not putting him at ease after the creepy experience on the civilian ship.

“What do you think, Lieutenant? Should we head straight to the bridge? Find others?” Shahr looked to his senior officer for guidance.

She looked to the transporter chief again quickly.

“Just note it in the log Chief… we’ll figure out whats going on…” she said, turning to Shahr. “Let’s get to the bridge… something must be going on up there to keep them out of contact.” she said, heading for the door. It wasn’t like Saffiya to just drop out of contact. That was concerning.

Shahr followed Hina out the door, and dropped his hand to rest on the phaser at his hip. There were many scenarios racing through his mind, and none of them were good. On the plus side, he hadn’t had a hallucination yet since returning to the Valkyrie, so maybe this was all a simple comms glitch. He swallowed hard. “I suppose it would’ve been too easy to simply collect some logs for the low, low price of two hallucinating junior officers…”

“At a certain point you just have to ask why we didn’t just leave at the first sign of trouble…” she commented. She was getting flashbacks of her brief time on the Cupertino, and the hole in space that they had gotten too close to without calling for a red alert. That had resulted in them being pulled into the underspace corridors. She frowned. Saf did know how to pick their missions.

“Yeah, I suppose it’s not in Starfleet’s nature to simply leave well enough alone. I can tell you the IG wouldn’t have bothered to investigate this ship. I do prefer being the guys who help those in need, but I wish we were flailing in the dark…” Shahr kept looking about. The halls were empty, though that wasn’t necessarily indicative of anything. People were on station, not milling about aimlessly.

“Well… we’ll know soon enough whats going on…” she commented, stopping at the nearest turbolift. She tapped the button a few times, trying to keep herself focused. Having another hallucinatory event now wouldn’t be good.

Shahr turned around, his back to Hina so he could keep watch on the hallways. He certainly didn’t expect any of the crew here to be full-on crazy (yet), but without any input from the bridge, he didn’t want to rule out any possibilities. Especially with so many armed, battle-hungry Imperial Guardsmen walking around.

Wait. Is that right? Shahr struggled for control within his own mind. He knew he was on the USS Valkyrie. There were no IG here. Right? Yet there they stood, right in front of him, patrolling the halls, brandishing weapons. But that wasn’t right, he had literally just noted a lack of people in the halls.

Shahr let out a low growl as he mentally beat back the hallucinations. It’s ok. It’s ok. The guardsmen he saw slowly lost focus, and then snapped out of existence as quickly as they’d appeared. It’s ok. Shahr turned to look at Hina, and prayed the turbo lift had arrived.

Hina glanced back at Shahr.

“You alright, Ensign?” she asked

Taking another calming breath, Shahr nodded. “Yes ma’am. Just… just the same shit. I’m ok.”

She nodded, understanding, then turned back as she heard the door to the lift open. She went to take a step and froze, foot seeming to hover over open air as she started into what looked like the open space of a warp nacelle. Her pulse quickened for a moment, eyes rapidly scanning the sight before her before she squeezed them shut.

‘No. No thats not real. Im not in the nacelle control room… I’m on my way to the bridge.’ she thought. She opened her eyes and was greeted with the sight of an empty turbo lift. They needed to get the ship away from here. This was becoming untenable.

“Let’s go…” she said stepping into the lift, but at that moment, there was a small chirp coming from her bridge.

“Stroyer to Morishita.”, said Stoyer’s voice. “Where are you?”

Hina tapped her badge, pausing in the door to the turbolift.

“On the Valkyrie… where are you?” she said.

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence in which the Ensign on the other side of the comms swallowed hard. “I… I’m still here. I can’t find Kazansky and … think I initiated a self-destruct sequence. Why does a civilian vessel even have a self-destruct sequence?”

Maybe it wasn’t real. There was a good chance it wasn’t real, but Naveah didn’t want to ignore it hoping it was a mere hallucination. Aside that, she also really didn’t want to be alone on that ship.

Now she felt guilty that they had left without making sure the others had gotten off the ship. And that ship was now about to explode. She frowned, looking to Shahr.

“Lieutenant, I think I have enough data from my tricorder to supplement our ship’s sensors. My readings from inside their ship should be enough to help our ship compensate for the distortions, lock onto both Stroyer and Kazansky, and beam them out. No need for the beam-out site.” Shahr swallowed to give him a half second to think. “I can do it from basically anywhere, but we’re closest to the transporter room. Maybe we just go back there?”

She nodded.

“Yea lets do it…” she agreed, stepping back from the lift letting the doors close without entering. She turned back starting toward the transporter room. “Stroyer, we’re gonna work on getting you and Kazansky back to the ship… how long is on the self destruct?” she asked.

“Five minutes. Not the fastest self-destruct, I guess.”

Hina nodded. “Ok… lets see if we can deactivate it…” she said, “Tell me whats on the display…” she said.

“Wait, you’re not coming?”, Stroyer asked, her voice pitching.

“We will if we have to, Ensign. Don’t worry.” Hina said. She looked to Shahr. “We’ll need to reconfigure the targeting scanners.. can you handle that while I work on cutting through the distortions?” she asked quietly.

“Easy day” Shahr confirmed. He tapped on his tricorder as they walked, linking it to the ship’s computer. “Can you get them both? I’m not jonesing to have to choose between shipmates today…”

“Yea… we should be able to get them both out…” she confirmed turning to enter the transporter room.

Shahr nodded in relief. Reentering the transporter room, Shahr featured vaguely to the crewman there to step out of the way. Working quickly but efficiently, Shahr verified the ship had downloaded his scans, then began to manually join the two data sets.

“Shahr to Stroyer. I am confident I have programmed the sensors to find you anywhere on the ship, but it would help if you two were together. Any chance you’ve located Kazansky?”

”Not yet.”, replied Stroyer. “I… can try, okay? I mean I still got… three minutes.”

“Ok well keep this channel open. If I lose sight of you on sensors, I’ll need to you backtrack quickly. Keep talking to me, Stroyer. I know the hallucinations can be very real, I’ll help you through it.”

Hina nodded to Shahr, smiling It was good he was keeping the Ensign talking. She was cursing herself for not checking that the others had gotten off the ship. This is why she was an engineer and didn’t go on away missions often.

Stroyer muttered something that was best left unheard by both other officers, and moved away from the console in search of Kazansky. Now though, she was wondering if Kazansky was even real.

“Do we even have someone called Kazansky on the ship?”, she wondered loudly, then let out a fairly girly scream as she found herself face to face with not one, but several versions of the maybe-not-even-existing Chief of Security and Tactical.

“Ensign Stroyer… we’ll have you out of there shortly.” she said. She reached under the transporter console, pulling out a tool kit. She popped the top open and selected a couple of tools before moving to the other side of the room. She needed to boost power to the confinement beam if they wanted to pull Stroyer and Kazansky out through the distortions. “Quick as you can Shahr.” she commented.

“Almost done. Yes… yes. I have a definite lock on Stroyer. I don’t see Kazansky… I’m going to run through inconsistencies between my tricorder readings and ship’s sensors and see if one matches our missing friend.” Shahr risked a second to glance over at Hina to see what she was working on.

“Im going to boost the power to the annular confinement beam… we should be able to pull them both out of there with no issues once I do… but it’ll take me a minute.” she said. Thankfully they had just a bit longer than that.

Shahr slammed his clenched fist against the side of the console in frustration. “I can’t find him!” Then he realized he had said that over the comms he had insisted on keeping open to calm his shipmate, so he tried to correct himself. “I mean, I haven’t found him yet. Haven’t finished running the comparison across the entire ship. It’ll work.”

“Find both their signals… and be ready to energize.” Hina said, running a sonic driver over a couple conduits. “Ensign Stroyer, almost there…”

“Are we sure there are no other people on the ship? Because I see people, okay? We can’t just let them explode!”, screamed Stroyer, now obviously panicking.

“No there isn’t anyone else on that ship.” Hina said.

“But what if they are real?”, the younger woman asked.

That made Hina pause. She had seen the bodies, seen the log from their doctor. Had it all been a hallucination? Could they have imagined it? What was real at this point? Were they even on the Valkyrie? She rubbed her face, now unsure what to do. Someone was hallucinating. But who? She looked back at Shahr, and spoke quietly.

“Shahr… Im ready… but… are we sure we aren’t hallucinating?”

That made Shahr pause. He tapped his badge to silence the line, then whispered back. “I… I guess I don’t know. It is extremely unusual that nobody has come to even check on us yet. That makes me suspicious, but it could just mean the rest of the crew is busy fighting their own hallucinatory demons. On the other hand, what are the chances you and I are locked into the same, joint hallucination? I feel like we’re probably ok… How do we tell?”

Shahr gulped hard. Best case scenario, they were saving their friends. Worst case, they were actually operating some other panel on the ship, about to blow all the airlocks, or detonate the warp core, or something equally horrible.

Hina shrugged. She wasn’t sure. She hadn’t been sure about anything for the past few hours at this point. She looked at the work she had done, sure that if everything was real two people would transport back to the Valkyrie. She nodded.

“Then do it once you have them both.” she ordered. “Ensign Stroyer… we’re going to beam you both back… theres no one but you on that ship. I’m sure.” she was sure they’d get them both but she wasn’t sure about the rest of it.

“O-… okay…”

Shahr nodded in acknowledgment, then faced his panel once more. The awful truth was there wasn’t time left to figure this out. They had to make the best decision they could, with the information they had. Suddenly his tricorder and the transporter console pinged in unison.

“We did it! I have two locks!” Shahr tapped his badge again, remembering he had muted himself. “Stroyer, I got you. I see you both. Stand by.”

“Beam them back.” she said, stepping away from the panel. She tapped another comm panel. “Morishita to bridge. If you can hear this, move us away from the other vessel…” she said. She didn’t know if Saffiya or anyone up there would hear it, but there wasn’t much she could do other wise.

Placing three fingers on the panel, Shahr slid them up the console to initialize the transporter beams. He watched the readout on the console as the computer verified the two bio-signs had been fully confined and then converted to energy. The computer signaled readiness to reverse the process on its own pad, so Shahr slid his fingers back down the panel. A column of light appeared on the right, and a slumped over burst of light appeared to the left. Both transporter beams coalesced into people Shahr recognized. Stroyer stood in front of him, while Kazansky was laying on the transporter pad.

“Glad you’re back, Stroyer! Hina, I mean, Lieutenant, what do we do now? Get them to sickbay?”

Hina nodded and moved to the pad to help their two crewmates. She hoped she had made the right decisions. These werent the sorts of decisions she wanted to be making. She directed Shahr to assist Stroyer while she scooped up Kazansky to carry the woman to sickbay.