From deep in the belly of the upper power module, Reactor Alpha, one of the beating hearts of Starbase Bravo, glowed defiantly at them.

‘Four reactors,’ hummed Hal Riggs, tapping his hyperspanner against his hand, ‘in twelve weeks.’

Liv Dutton scoffed. ‘Didn’t you hear? Command wants it done in ten.’

‘Ten?’ Riggs’s broad, honest features creased with an uncharacteristic frown. ‘All upgrades, all four M/AM reactors, in ten weeks? When’d that hot idea come up?’

‘It wasn’t formal.’ Dutton scratched his beard. ‘Captain Reyes came down. Friendly, cheerful, like he is. Like he’s asking us a favour.’

‘Aw, man. I like Reyes.’

‘Yeah, but you know he bypassed Sterling because the cap would have told him to dream on. Instead he passes the pressure down to us. The little guys.’

A pair of lieutenant commanders, seasoned engineers who’d had their hands on the guts of Bravo since it was built, were not normally the little guys. But they were the front line of this routine upgrade, the first since Bravo’s construction, powering down each matter/antimatter reactor in turn to conduct essential work.

‘If folks have heard it’s ten weeks,’ said Riggs uncertainly, ‘then they’re gonna hope it’s eight. And then every time they complain to Ops that the replicators are out on their section today, Ops is gonna say it’s our fault.’ It wasn’t the sense of responsibility that appeared to bother Riggs so much as the idea people might not like him.

‘Oh, Hal. Come on.’ Dutton looked up at him. ‘As if we’ll see anyone while we’re on outage.’

Despite it all, the big, personable engineer gave a huge grin. ‘I’ll see you, Liv. And we’ll see her.’ He waved a wide hand at Reactor Alpha as if it were a valued friend he was looking forward to spending time with, and not the adversary to be overcome as quickly as possible.

Reactor Alpha, with all its glowing and glowering, did not look enthused so much as defiant. 

‘Janssen!’ Admiral Belvedere had already summoned his flag aide with the call button, but circumstances demanded a little emphasis as the broad-shouldered officer entered his office, all eager expectation of important duties.

Instead, Belvedere leaned back in his tall desk chair and lifted his mug. ‘What is this?’

‘It’s a cup of tea, sir,’ said Janssen, and only then did he realise this was not a moment to be cute. Such moments were few and far between with Belvedere. ‘Is something the matter?’

‘If you were correct, nothing would be the matter.’ Belvedere set the cup down as if it were some sort of rodent that had inveigled its way into his sanctum. ‘If you were correct, I would be enjoying a delightful cup of Darjeeling. If you were correct, I would not instead have what could be described as a mug of tepid sludge.’

Understanding dawned. ‘I’m sorry, sir; outage has started on Reactor Alpha. We’re cycling power allocation on non-essential services; Captain Truman must have amended last night’s memo on Sector Alpha-Red’s status.’ But soon there was another frown from Janssen. ‘It shouldn’t have given you a cup at all.’

Belvedere drew a slow breath, and the pregnant silence was enough for Janssen to wonder if Starbase Bravo’s commander, outraged at an unresponsive replicator, had attempted to override it and learnt a bitter, sludgey lesson. ‘Make sure I have the latest update on power cycles.’

‘Yes, sir. Shall I ensure you have office space wherever the station has full power?’

‘Mn.’ Belvedere’s neutral noise was accompanied by a dissatisfied sweep of his gaze about the office, which had been perfectly calibrated to his preferences in all matters but tea. ‘That won’t be necessary.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Another pause, and Janssen braced. ‘I’ll go on a tea run to Brew.’

‘Excellent.’ Belvedere sank back in his chair and picked up the PADD with the morning briefings, and at once looked more satisfied with his lot in life. ‘See if they have any second flush in their Darjeeling.’ 

Starbase Bravo In-Play for Q3 2400

• Routine upgrades to Bravo’s reactors are expected to last the rest of the quarter. While Bravo has multiple reactors and many redundancies, this has placed a significant burden on the starbase’s power resources. Engineering and Operations officers in particular are going to be working full-out to deal with the consequences for these weeks.
• Power prioritisation means non-essential systems will be routinely down-powered during the period. This might mean replicators on a section being out, certain turbolift routes being out, some services being off. While Ops will communicate when this is planned to happen, not everyone will get every memo – and things might change last-minute.
• Characters on Bravo might learn how to work around these inconveniences, or they might be taken aback by not being able to get their morning coffee in their usual place.
• Essential or important systems shouldn’t drop out. If they do, something’s gone wrong and it should be fixed quickly. But the crew are under a major strain and sometimes things do go wrong. 

Heriah had to speak to someone. Yeah, she was opening up more and get more friendly with her boss but her boss was still a shrink. There was Cynndle whom she had gotten to know and found herself growing more fond of, but, and for obvious reasons, she could not speak about this to him. And since this involved another matter…”I need to speak with Dr. Longfellow,” Heriah said to the medical receptionist.

“I’m sorry ma’am but he is with…”

“Please tell him I will be in that examination room…please.” Heriah turned and started toward the examination room when she stopped and leaned back, “and thank you.”

Heriah had her hypospray in hand, looking at it and fiddling with it nervously as she made her way to the examination room. Entering, she immediately sat and started bouncing a foot. She stood and paced about the small space for a moment before seating herself again, this time on the biobed. Placing the hypospray beside her, she ran her hands up and down her thighs and hummed something.

There she waited. It did not matter how long it took. Heriah felt there was no one else other than Dr. Longfellow she could share this with.

Longfellow looked up from the patient history he was taking. The receptionist stepped in and advised him that a patient had been looking for him and had taken up residence in an exam room.  When he heard the name he quietly smiled, “I’ll go check on her.”  He turned to the patient, “I’m going to have my nurse finish your history.  We’ll take some blood, run some tests – pretty normal stuff.  I’ll be back shortly.”  He wasn’t sure if that was even true.  He snagged a PADD, a medical tricorder and walked to and then into the exam room.  Heriah sat on the bio bed, clearly nervous.  He sat on a stool and rolled closer to her, “Been a bit, Heriah.”  He did a cursory scan with his medical tricorder as he spoke.  He pulled up his PADD and gave her a look of curiosity, “What can I do for you?”

“Thank you for seeing me, doctor. I have…um…” Heriah looked to the floor briefly, then reconnected with the doctor’s eyes, “…an urgent situation.” She really did not know how to say it, so decided to out with it. Taking a breath, “Cynndle asked me out. No…not out. Not out, out. I mean, not on a date. Of course, you know the crisis summit is over and all that went along with it. Well, someone in the command staff is planning a get-together to celebrate. Cynndle asked me to go along with him. ‘As friends,’ he said. As friends. There is nothing wrong with that, I don’t think. I already said I would go.” Out of breath, she took another draw of air and finished off with, “So, what do I do?”

‘Easy, go out with him, lead him on, make him dream of greater things, kick him to the curb.’

“You have to help me doc.”

Longfellow didn’t laugh.  He had learned early in his career not to laugh at his patients.  And if he would have laughed at this moment, it wouldn’t have been at Heriah Rex – it would have been in commiseration with her.  He nodded, “I’m guessing Rex has his own solution to this problem?”

“We’re at both ends of the spectrum, me and he. Rex’s solution,” she crossed her arms gently across her torso, “is one of drama, violence and heartbreak.”

‘Hehe. You ain’t lying.’

Henry nodded, “That would be pretty normal for Rex, I’d say.”  He looked up and thought for a moment, “Well, the question you have to ask yourself and Rex as well is where is this nervousness about going with him coming from?  Is there suspicion that he has designs on you besides friendship…,” and he paused before asking the next part of the question, “…or is that you’re worried…or Rex is worried you may find more feelings in yourself beyond just…friendship?”

“Um…” she was trying to comprehend Henry’s words. She heard his words but, through her nervousness, had to think on the definitions of each word, to include ‘the’, in an attempt to formulate what he meant as well as an answer. “I guess I don’t know. Yeah. Well, not really. It’s not really that. Not that at all. OK, it is, exactly that. Somewhat really. Not really.” She hammered her fists down upon the biobed, nearly knocking her hypospray to the floor. “OK, here it is.” She cleared her throat and took a breath.

‘Here it is. Let him have it.’

“I’ve never been on a date; not as Heriah; not before joining and not since. I’ve never gone to an event with just one other person that I liked, somewhat liked, could like; somone that I am fond of. I’ve always found myself socially awkward, laughing when nervous, unable to find the words, breaking out in a sweat.”

“Rex, however…” previous hosts before Refkin were somewhat subdued, most likely from the trauma Rex endured while joined with him. “…due to his…”

‘Mania?’

“…due to his temperament and when he was joined with Davmorda, she proved domineering. She had relationships, but when she had gotten what she wanted, she would kick,” Heriah actually kicked out with her foot, “him, sometimes her, to the curb. When joined with Luftine, he proved also domineering but in a violent way. He would beat…” Heriah was about to mimic a punch in the air but cut herself off and decided against further narrative of the history of Rex’s hosts. “You see what I mean. Both ends of the spectrum. Heriah,” she held out her left hand, “nervous and awkward, and Rex,” she held out her right hand, “domineering and violent.” Heriah bounced both hands in the air before her. “How do I reconcile the two?” Before allowing Henry to get in a word, Heriah pointed at him. “Just be yourself. That is what you are thinking of saying. I know that I tell my patients that all the time. But me? You want me to just be myself?” Heriah put her face in her hands, sighed, and pulled her fingers down her face, cheeks, and chin. “I honestly do not know who that is.”

Longfellow listened carefully.  It wasn’t a surprise about Rex’s manner of relationships given the darker edge of the sun that he’d flown so close to in his life as a symbiont.  Heriah was on the opposite side of the relationship canyon they were exploring, and he felt for her struggle in trying to know herself.  There was Heriah, and there was Rex in her mind and body.  “Then I think that’s your first step in this.”  He shifted the stool closer to her, “There’s an old earth adage about having two wolves inside competing for our persona…who we are.  I think the more accurate metaphor for you is two siblings inside you – Heriah and Rex.  It’s like any sibling relationship – fraught with conflict, arguments, disagreements.”  He thought for a moment longer,  “In the original story, it was always about what wolf we let win…but that’s not the case with Trills…and specifically you.”  Henry continued, “You and Rex will have to find some things to agree on to help you forge your own identity as Heriah.  As your work to discover who you are, the balance between you and Rex will equalize.  Trills are stronger when they’re together and going towards the same goal.  This will be a challenge for you both…and Rex, I’m talking to you now…it’ll be new territory for you as well.”

‘This one’s beating heart in the territory of the palm of your hand sounds good.’

With that thought forced forth and flashing through her mind, Heriah took a second to find the words. “Rex…understands. He is a bit resistant…”

‘Understatement.’

“…but I am sure he will…” and Heriah wanted to be honest with both Henry and herself. Saying that Rex would fall into line was certainly a lie. That he would give it his best? Well, his best in making a disaster of everything. That he would give it his all? Again, giving it his all in sabotaging any relationship.

“…Rex will give it a go,” she finally finished.

‘eh…’

“He is oftentimes that proverbial little devil…”

‘Little?’

“…on my shoulder and in my ear, but I always have the final say. His voice and will sometimes…they can be a bit overwhelming.”

Longfellow understood.  “It is a unique and challenging position.  It is the problem of having two minds inside your head and heart.”  He tapped his own head, “You remember T’shalaith?  She was only with me a short time…but the power she held over my own mind and body?  If she had been inclined, she could have taken over and done some terrible things in my name.”  He shook his head, “She knew I was scared of her power…and I think she was a little scared of it too.  Kept us honest.”  He looked at her, “You’ve talked a lot about Rex and his influence over you.”  He thought for a moment, “The question for you…and Rex as well…is when will Rex allow you…to have your share of the influence…over yourself and even of him?”

She let out a nasal laugh. “He’s quiet. Not entirely sure what that means.” But Heriah did have a realization. “I suppose it is a two-way street. Again, my joining was not the norm and we continue to be something of an anomaly. Perhaps the idea of us joining to form a new individual Trill is a taller order than previously thought. Rex sometimes refers to my body as a prison. Without losing myself to Rex’s will, maybe I need to indulge in some of his desires more often. We have a slew of holodecks after all. I indulge in his desires,” she looked intently at the doctor, “no mass murders or the like, and he will assist me in mine.”

Henry studied Heriah’s eyes for a moment, “I’ll compromise – supervised indulging.”  He held up his hands, “And yes, I probably just volunteered for the job…but I would never suggest anyone go through anything challenging similar to what you’re experiencing alone.”

‘What’s this? Papa Longfellow going to supervise the kiddies in the playground?’

“I cannot guarantee what you may witness, but do be prepared for anything,” Heriah said. “I think some of my nervousness from earlier stemmed from Rex being cross after I…oh,” a light went off as she remembered. Heriah snatched up her hypospray and held it up. “I ran out of the benzocyatizine. I…” and she slouched to a great degree in both guilt and shame as she admitted, “I started…taking double doses.” Heriah immediately spoke up in her own defense. “But that was only a week ago and during the crisis summit. You know, all the refugees? Lead to many long days and late shifts. I needed that second hit. And,” she thought about the refugee influx, “…OK maybe it was two weeks since I started that. No…three.” Heriah thought for a long second about the actual time of the refugee influx. “Six weeks,” she admitted as she fully realized. She looked at the hypospray like a recovering addict would have looked at their vehicle of injection; a tool of pain. And if she could have slouched further, she would have with, “And, just yesterday, I accidentally took a triple dose. I miscounted. Accidentally oversaturated myself with isoboramine. By accident,” she added. “That…is when I ran out.”

Longellow gave her a nod, “I appreciate you being honest about it, Heriah.”  He held the silence for a moment, “Six weeks is a long time to double dose.”  Henry pointed to his PADD, “There’s a lot of things I can ignore or not take note of as a doctor, but that…that’s going to have to be filed in the refill request, which I will grant.”  He thought for a moment, “Who is in control when you make the decision to double dose?”

Heriah thought a short second. “I am. I mean,” and she smiled awkwardly, “why would Rex want me to double-dose? It’s just that…he gets so negative sometimes. Helpful many times, yes, but also negative and usually when I need negativity the least. As I mentioned before, low isoboramine levels causes a separation of the minds. I can sometimes feel Rex becoming distant…mentally. I will also have this strange, out-of-sorts, feeling about myself. The monocorder will verify that I need a dose of the benzocyatizine. I guess…” and she looked down shamefully rolling the spent hypospray around between her hands, “I guess sometimes I did not feel that one dose doing the trick.”

Henry did gently furrow his brows at this point and thought about what Heriah was saying.  There was something more there…but they had worked through so much in this conversation he wasn’t sure it could handle the weight of one more question.  “I think if you feel that way in the future…reach out to me and let’s investigate together – myself, you, and Rex to see what we can find out.”  He looked at Heriah, “That work for you?”

“It does, sir,” she nodded. “And thank you. The next time a single dose does not appear to work, I will come straight here.” She was a bit worried about Elegy finding out about all this and what that would lead to. “I will strive to do better. After all, Bravo needs its counselor.”

Longfellow agreed with her there, “The more ears there are to listen to those who need to speak the better.”

Heriah hopped off the biobed and stood. Stopping herself after taking only half a step. “Sir,” she did not want to pry but also did not want to seem insensitive, “how is your wife doing? The ship and crew?”

“We are cautiously hopeful.”  He let a sigh out as he spoke, “Hope is sometimes all we get in these moments, Heriah.”  He made a note on his PADD and handed her the refill cartridges from his supply, “Let’s hold each other accountable through these things.”  After she had left, Henry contemplated making an appointment with her about his emotional status and his wife’s situation.  He resolved to address it as soon as possible. 

Katlyn had been the first back up the ladder to the upper deck, stopping to offer her hand to Noreel as he ascended behind her. “So, good news, bad news,” she said, offering the same hand to Parze as she followed. “We found Noreel and we didn’t find any serious sign of injury for,” she tapered off, looking for Noreel for the name of their companion, which still hadn’t been offered.

Noreel blinked back at Katlyn as he moved away from the hatch.  “You may call him, ‘representative’,” Noreel said swiftly.  His gaze shifted to look anywhere but the cadets, plainly studying the state of the ship as his eyes searched for something.

“The bad news is we’re not fixing Fantail and flying out of here,” Katlyn continued. “The entire aft section’s been sheared right off. Probably about five to ten kilometers behind us somewhere. Which is annoying because isn’t that where the emergency transmitter was stored?”

As Parze finished the climb and planted her boots on the deck, she nodded at Katlyn.  “Yes, you’re right,” Parze said, sounding awfully defeatist.  She began to follow Noreel down the tilted corridor, never letting him get too far ahead of her.

“We did leave a pretty good gouge in the land where we crashed through the forest, so walking back along it to find the aft compartment shouldn’t be to arduous. I’m willing to go,” Katlyn continued. “Since I was after all at the controls.” That suddenly hit home and she just kinda froze up for a moment, before pushing it aside to process and deal with later.

Parze shook her head at that last comment.  “Such as they were,” she said in an actually tone of voice. Parze widened her eyes at Katlyn softly.  “The controls were barely controlling anything by then.  I’ll go with.”

Noreel added, “I will remain here.  To guard the shuttle.”

Katlyn shrugged at Parze, and mouthed ‘thanks’ to her. It was true, Fantail had really just been a fancy brick towards the end, but she had been trying to fly it at least. Had to count for something, right?” “Hey, you want to guard a wreck, go right ahead. Course, does mean you’re responsible for the injured,” Katlyn stated to Noreel. “And anything happens to them, it’s on you”

Without looking back at Katlyn, Noreel simply remarked, “So you say.”

Parze had crouched low on the angled deck to tug at the manual release tab for an access panel.  When a simple press proved inconsequential, Parze struck it again with the heel of her palm to open the panel, revealing the emergency kits within.  Retrieving the case, she opened it up to find more torches, tricorders, combadges and phasers.  Proffering the kit to Katlyn, Parze said, “I suppose we know the atmosphere isn’t too harmful, but we don’t know what else we’ll find out there…”

“Still, jackets downstairs,” Katlyn said, clipping the phaser and tricorder to her belt. “Be right back.” She practically launched herself down the stairs, a faint crashing sound heard with the mandatory ‘I’m okay!’ right after. Only a couple of minutes later and she re-emerged with two field jackets and a bright pink bow and quiver. “We were going to do survival training, I brought it along in case they’d let me take it,” she said in defence of the bow. “Right, find the emergency transmitter, get it started, see if we can’t find the others as well, bring back dinner. Anything I’m missing?” she asked Parze.

“Nothing.  That’ll be our essentials sorted,” Parze said as she shrugged her way into a field jacket and securing it closed.  “Are you…” Parze started to say with a bemused smile, nodding at the bow.  “Have you caught dinner with that before?”

“Couple of times,” she said with a slight shrug. “Pops made sure I knew how to use it and I competed for a bit in high school.” It wasn’t the booming confidence of someone boasting achievements, but comfortable enough in their skills. “Right, shall we go rescue the others?”

Flipping open her tricorder, Parze nodded in agreement and she said, “We better get an A+ for surviving all of this.”

Cynndle stifled a yawn and forced his eyes to stay open after several, too-long blinks, as he stepped off the turbo lift and glanced at the wall console to confirm the time. “Almost midnight…not too bad…” he muttered and began to walk down the corridor lost in thought, thinking back on the night.

It had been almost 9 months since he had last seen Lieutenant Rebecca Thompson, no, not Lieutenant anymore, now Lieutenant Commander Thompson; he had to keep reminding himself. The last he had seen her was after the USS Dawnbringer, their old sabre class escort, was decommissioned following their engagement with a still as-of-yet unknown vessel and they were both reassigned.  He had been pleasantly surprised when he had received a message from her earlier that day saying her new ship was docked at Starbase Bravo for a day or two and wanted to know if he was free to catch up and show her around. 

Luck had been on their side as he had just finished a long stretch of long shifts earlier that day and had a day off. Following a long afternoon of reminiscing about their old ship, showing her around the station and some time in the holodeck, they ended up in a Klingon restaurant on the promenade before moving to one of the bars where they both had more than they should have. After several drinks, Rebecca’s combadge chimed abruptly bringing an end to the night. After a quick goodbye, they parted ways leaving Cynndle unsure of what to do next and how he felt.

After a couple of minutes, he stopped, bracing himself against the wall and looked around and frowned. “Where am I?” he questioned aloud, “This… definitely isn’t my deck…” he muttered before turning around, he thought, to go find the turbolift. Humming to himself as he went along he rounded a corner expecting to find the turbolifts a few meters in front of him but pulled up short as he almost walked right into a blond woman.  “Oh, umm…sorry I didn’t see you there. My bad.” he said as he blinked the sleep and slight tipsiness out of his eyes.

Coming into focus before Cynndle was, first, a pair of pajamas. They were somewhat loose-fitting. The shirt was a little short and exposed a bellybutton and the leggings showed a pair of ankles. What he noticed about the blonde woman, though, was a line of spots down her side and extending down to those exposed ankles. Proving that, yes, a Trill’s spots did go all the way down.

“Yeah, that happens sometimes,” came a foggy but yet familiar voice. It too sounded a bit slurred but Cynndle gave that up to his own momentarily skewed senses. “Oh hey! You’re…um…” and the blonde woman closed her eyes as though looking for something written on the back of her eyelids, “you’re…” and she started snapping her fingers as though that would help jog her memory. “You’re Sinnnn…” Snap snap snap.

Cynndle shook his head as he regained focus; missing her slow recognition of him. “Heriah” he said with a mixture of surprise but also excitement. “What are you…um…” he began to say as he looked her up and down; ‘So they do go all the way down…’ a small voice in his head said, ‘…intriguing…‘ “…doing up, out? Everything all right?” he asked as he took a step back realizing just how close he was standing to her.

“sinnn…Sinner…Cynndle! That’s it,” she said. “That’s…your name.” She smiled. It took a short second for her to continue. “Brain fog,” she said as she circled an index finger by her temple. “Couldn’t sleep. Must have decided to go on walkabout.” Heriah then took a step closer to Cynndle. Not the distance he had stepped back, but closer all the same. “I’m fine. Just…still waking up. You?”

Letting out a low snort Cynndle smiled, “Sinner…that is a first.” He looked at her and frowned slightly as she stepped forward. He could tell there was something off but pushed it aside, ‘God knows I ask strange when I am exhausted…’. “I am just heading back to my quarters. Met up with an old friend, you will be happy to hear, from the Dawn. Her new ship was passing through. It was nice…” he said with a shrug before his eyes lost focus for a second forcing him to push the tipsy haze away. “I may have had a drink or two too many…Would you like me to walk you back to your quarters?”

“How about I walk you to yours,” she said. “You do appear a bit more inebriated than I.” And through Cynndle’s continued struggle to maintain focus, Heriah seemed to sway a little. “I’m still waking up. It takes us Trill time…sometimes.”

Heriah shuffled her feet and stepped to the side to allow Cynndle passage. She held out an arm issuing him forth and started walking beside him.

Cynndle blinked, “Awaking up in the night always sucks, never wake up as quick as you should,” he said with a smile as she spoke but only half hearing.

“An old friend, huh?” Heriah asked as they slowly stepped along. “Is she cute?”

“Who, Becca?” he asked as walked along, “Cute? Yep, very…she was the con officer on the Dawn, best pilot I know. Great fun also,” he said as he thought back to some of the antics they got up to during their two years deployed together and laughed slightly. “It was nice to see her again, moved to command as well with her promotion. Expect she will be a captain soon enough, well deserved.”

“You two should stay in contact,” she said. “Some find long distance contacts difficult. But you need to keep memories from the Downbringer alive. Down-bringer…listen to me. The Dawnbringer.”

As they continued to step forth, Cynndle noticed Heriah looking around, taking in the lighting, the carpet, the corridor access panels.

Looking over a Heriah a part of him continued to tell him something was off, a little louder than before, “How come you couldn’t sleep?”

“Oh, you know,” and her words cut off as a random person rounded an intersection and stepped by. Heriah nearly moved in a start and eyed the man, keeping eyes on him as he passed and continued in the opposite direction. “You know those times,” and the man was gone. Heriah looked forward again. “…those times when you try to sleep and an old awkward memory surfaces?” Heriah shrugged. “Everytime I closed my eyes, I was back on that Borg Sphere. So, I decided to go for a walk…to remind myself…” and she was looking about the lights, flooring, and paneling again, “…that I’m…not there…anymore.”

Cynndle nodded as she spoke but drew to a stop at the mention of the Borg so abruptly that Heriah stepped past him. “Wait, when were you on a sphere? I haven’t heard of any incidents in a long time” he said as he looked at her but his eyes looked down to her abdomen and exposed bellybutton. “Do you mean a previous host and Rex?…” he said, his voice trailing off as his tipsy mind drew connections and jumped to what could be a rather outlandish thought. He blurted it out before he even fully processed it, “Was that the traumatic past you spoke off the other day? Shit, does that mean…” as a look of concern and sadness grew on his face.

“Well yes, I uh…” and she appeared beside him, grabbing his arm, steadying him as he staggered but a bit. “I didn’t mention that? Shame on me.”

The thought sobered him up pretty quick and the conversation with Heriah from a bit more sense. Realizing what he had blurted out he held up his hands in a gesture of apology. “Sorry I should not have blurted that out, we are in an open corridor.”

Heriah tugged at his arm, helping him along. “Oh,” she disregarded the situation, “the more ears that hear the less I have to repeat myself later, am I right?

Cynndle looked down at her as she tugged his arm, “Really, because you definitely seemed very hesitant to bring it up in part when you eleddued…” his speech slurred slightly and he scrunched his eyes shut for a second. “…alluded too.”

Looking around, Cynndle pulled to the right as they came to an intersection, guiding Heriah in that direction. Closer to his quarters. “I’m just over this way. So why only allude to it then in private and openly mention it now?”

“Ask me about it the next time,” and Cynndle’s continued bout against tipsiness caused her next words to become muddled and echoey, “you come for a crying…er…counseling session.” His senses returned somewhat. “And she will tell you all about it. I will tell you all about it,” she corrected. “Sorry. Still waking up.”

“Crying sessions!? Really? That’s not very counselor-like of you,” he said a questioning look in his eyes barely hiding a slight flash of anger and annoyance. He continued to walk for a moment without saying anything a slight feeling of betrayal pushing on his mind.

“You will have to forgive me. I hardly know what I am saying…or doing,” she said. “Just a lack of sleep is all.”

He stopped and turned to Heriah, “Heriah are you sure you are ok? You just seem unlike yourself?”

“I’m fine,” she said with a smile. A bit of weariness showed in her eyes. “Trust me. I feel I can get to sleep now, so I really should scoot. Can you manage the rest of the way?”

Cynndle looked at her, clearly suspicious and not fully believing her, “Ok…” he said as he looked around. “My quarters not far. You sure you are ok to get back?”

“Yes,” she said as she took a step back. “Perfectly fine. Still waking up but needing to get back to sleep. Tomorrow I need to work with a bit more refuse…ees…refugees.” She laughed at her misspeak.

With that, Heriah spun and started off. Cynndle watched as she stepped as though still getting the hang of the act of walking. Perhaps it was weariness. She did seem a bit too lively to have been sleep walking.

Cynndle walked into his quarters and sighed, “Well that was bloody odd….” he said aloud as he went to the replicator and ordered a large glass of water and some anti-intoxicants. As he took a sip of his water he thought back to the odd behaviour Heriah had been displaying and the way she spoke. As he did a disturbing thought occurred to him, ‘What if that wasn’t Heriah….she knew me but as if no personally….what if it was…’ he thought before muttering under his breath, “The Benzocyatizine injections for her isoboramine levels…”

The possible implications of this and the anti-intoxicants he had just taken cleared his head in moments and he turned to his desk and computer. “Computer, pull up a summary of the files Starfleet has on the Trill and symbiont joining as well as possible complications. Prioritize anything that mentions symbiont dominance, symbiont takeover and isoboramine imbalance.”

Looking at the number of files on the joining and his search queries he shook his head and blew a raspberry with his lips. “Good thing I am off duty tomorrow. I may be up all night.”

After an hour he ran his hand through his hair. “I think I may need to cancel my breakfast plans with Becca….”

Deck 6 – USS Lorenza – 11:00

Cynndle walked down the halls of the USS Lorenza feeling a sense of uneasiness as he headed toward the bridge. The ship seemed deserted but he knew that the entire crew was still on board spread around the ship.

Glancing down at the PADD in his hand he reviewed the schematics of the New Orleans class vessel as he had never been on one before. “What is the fastest way to the bridge..hmmm” he muttered to himself before looking up and realizing he was very close to the airlock that both he and Longfellow entered through. As if the realization shaped the universe around him a pair of young medical techs, a male Bolian and a female Denobulan, from Bravo stepped around the corner almost walking into him. His sudden appearance caused them both to jump.

Over the open coms, he heard one of the curses, “Bloody hell, where did you come from!?” before realizing he was speaking to a Lieutenant Junior Grade and quickly apologizing.

“Apologise ensigns, I should have been paying closer attention. Where are you headed?” Cynndle asked them as he continued to look over the schematics.

“We have been ordered to sweep the ship and check crew, sir. There will be several other teams coming through shortly for this. The main team has already headed to medical.” the Denobulan said and then looked around the empty halls. “How bad is it sir?”

Cynnlde shook his head, “Cannot say I have much experience in these sort of things but it is not good. Medical is full of crew members who are not in good shape by the looks of it.” he said as he looked around. “Look I am heading to the bridge and will likely come across more crew on the way and there. Do you want to come along? I may need an extra pair of hands anyways when I get there.”

“Yes, sir,” the Denobulan said and the Bolian nodded.

“Enough with the sir. I’m Cynndle.” he said with a smile to which the Bolian said, “Brall Xata” and the young Denobulan said, “I’m Velesa”

Over the next 10 minutes as they walked through the ship they came across several crew members, mostly younger individuals shuffling along the corridors or sitting in the quarters. All of whom showed clear signs of infection though they did now seem as far along as the older crew Cynndle had seen in sickbay.

Every time the three conducted the same routine and received the same response from the crew. All were surprised and excited to see the medical teams from Bravo and seemed to think a cure was not far off now that the medical and scientific might of the federation was being focused. Cynndle reassured each of them that they were there to help and advised them to go to medical as that is where the medical team was going to set up the base of operations. Brall would get their name and check it against the ship’s manifest and Velesa conducted a quick medical scan.

As they approached the turbolift to the bridge a commotion could be heard as two voices sounded to be in an argument. Cynndle rounded the corner to find a young member of the crew, who though infected was the liveliest person he has seen yet. The young woman was having a heated exchange with a young non-uniformed Tellarite who is demanding access to the bridge.

The frustration on the young woman’s face was clearly visible as he once again said, “Sir, I understand you want to see the Captain but you are not authorised to access the bridge. I will let them know and see what can be organized.”

“NO, THAT ISN’T GOOD ENOUGH! I DEMAND YOU MOVE AND LET ME PASS OR ELSE!!” the Tellarite shouted.

“Sir, please,” her voice exhausted from the ordeal of dealing with the situation, “I have explained this. You know you cannot go to the bridge with the ship in lockdown. Can you please return to your quarters.” the woman said causing the Tellarite to shout in rage and pull a knife from up his sleeve. The woman stepped back a look of shock and worry on her face before catching sight of the three officers in biohazard suits which caused a flash of terror across her face before quickly recognizing that it meant Starfleet had sent help.

Seeing the knife Cynndle stepped forward and holds up his hands, “I am Lieutenant Oin’sun. I get your frustration and worry given the situation. Let us try to remain calm. The ship has reached Starbase 4 and the medical and science teams are doing everything they can. What is your name?”

As Cynndle stepped forward the Tellarite waved the knife in from of him. “STAY BACK. I WANT OFF THIS SHIP NOW. I SHOULDN’T EVEN BE HERE!”

“I get that, but the ship is in quarantine. If you leave you could, you WILL, spread the infection and it could kill hundreds, if not thousands.” Cynndle said as both Velesa and Brall stepped up behind him.

“NO, NO, NO. I am not sick, SEE SEE!” the man said as he pulled down his shirt collar and took a step towards Cynndle, “I do not have the black likes or sores on my face! See! So I am not sick.” As he did the sleeve of his shirt slid down showing the edges of a black sore.

Watching the knife the man was waving around Cynndle grew increasingly concerned…’one cut and we could be infected….shit. I need to get that away from him…’ he thought. “That isn’t how this works. The virus infects everything as far as we can tell. Tellarites included; it may present differently but everyone on board as far as we can tell is infected. Look at your arm, it may not be on your face but you are infected. Please I am asking you to drop the weapon.”

“No, No…” the Tellaraite said. His anger fading but he still waved the knife around.

“Sir, please. I need you to drop the knife and go to medical. They can check you out properly. The medical teams of Bravo are there.” Cynndle said. Before he could continue Velesa stepped up past him and held out her hand. “Bravo as some of the best facilities and staff in the fleet. We will look after you and do everything possible.”

During the exchange, the young women had shifted up behind the Tellarite clearly getting ready to attempt to disarm him if needed. See this Cynndle looked at her and shook his head as he put a hand on Velesa shoulder pulling her back. “As my colleague as said, this is the best place to be. If you drop the weapon we can get you looked after.”

With a cry of frustration and despair, the knife clattered to the floor and the Tellarite saged to the floor, tears in his eyes. Cynndle looked to both Brall and Velesa as he stepped forward and carefully moved the knife away. “I’ll take that sir. You won’t want that near your suit.” the young crew woman said. “Is it true, we are at Bravo? The Bridge has been locked down and I haven’t looked out a viewport for a while.”

“Yes, and thank you for the help. Could you escort this man to sickbay?” Cynndle said before turning back to Brall and Velesa, “Can you go with…Sorry I didn’t get your name.”

“It’s Jane, Jane Bond….like that old spy film guy…” she said with a smile that barely hid her worry.

“Well Jane, it is a pleasure to meet you. Wish it was under better circumstances. Brall and Velesa, please go with Bond, Jane Bond…”  Cynndle said with a smile, “…to sickbay with the Tellarite.” Switching to a private come to them both. “Make sure he doesn’t cause any more trouble, search him for any more knives and be careful. Then carry on with your sweep unless otherwise instructed.” They both nodded and moved towards the Tellarite, scanning him and then with the help of Jane got him up and moving the way they had come.

Cynndle watched them go then turned towards the turbolift to the bridge.

Getting to the lift he quickly realized it was completely locked down. “Shit, Jane wasn’t kidding when she said it was locked down.” Quickly pulling up the override code they had been given to access all areas of the ship he cursed as it was accepted but a large red flashing ERROR message appeared on the door control. Pulling out his tool kit he undid the clasps and removed the panel.

Just as he finished opening the access panel on the turbolifts controls and his combadge chimed and S’Atilen’s voice came through the suit’s mic asking for an update. Activating the mic he responded while he tried to manually force the doors open.  “Not there yet but will be in a few minutes just forcing my way into the lift controls. The bridge is locked down….” Looking through the wires he cursed, ‘Damn mess in here’ he thought. “On my way to the bridge, we came across a few younger crew who were more mobile as well as women who seemed pretty normal though was infected. She is on her way to sickbay with a Telllarite who was pretty worked up. That’s it from me for now. I will send an update when I have one.”

With that Cynndle cut the mic but continued to listen to the exchange and acknowledged when needed. He started sorting out the manual release of the door. After a few minutes, he let out a laugh as the door to the lift slid open showing the empty turbolift carriage waiting within. As he stood up he thought, ‘Someone didn’t just lock the bridge down they actually scrambled the manual controls…wonder why…’

He stepped into the lift and said “Bridge”, causing the doors to slide shut and the lift to move upwards.

As he stood there Neva Cordon’s voice came over his coms giving an update on their work with the gel packs. “Thanks for the heads up Neva. It is worrying that the bio-neural gel packs have been infected. Can you tell if they were cleared and then recontaminated after transport such as a latent carrier maybe or do they come across and the filters are unable to remove the contagion?”

Cynndle listened as she responded and keyed his mic.  “Ok, let me think on this for a minute. Maybe the medical team can provide some insight. I am just stepping onto the bridge now and will try to run some scans from this end. It may provide some additional information.”

A moment later the lift stopped and the doors opened revealing the bridge of the New Orleans class ship. Cynndle stepped out onto the bridge and looked around. At first glance, the bridge seemed deserted but as walked further onto the bridge he saw the form of a man slumped over one of the science consoles.  

He move quickly over to the individual and pulled out his tricorder and began the scan. Looking at the individual, it looked like he had a very advanced infection. That and his incredibly still form caused Cynndle to mutter under his breath, “Shit. Please don’t be dead…” but his fears were put to rest as the tricorder completed its scan showing a moderate infection and that the officer was stable and just asleep. Though that was odd for it to look so bad…

Moving over towards the operations console Cynndle pulled up the logs and lockdown reports. Scrolling through them he frowned. It appeared that the individual asleep, a young Lieutenant, had rerouted all controls to the bridge and then sealed the bridge, locking down all turbolifts, airlocks, and transporters to keep everyone on board and limit movement using the acting Captains codes. As he read through the logs and reports it painted an increasingly grim picture. The infection had spread through the ship like wildfire after it first appeared on board and the isolation procedures that had been put in place to hopefully keep the, who were thought to be uninfected Romulans, as well as the uninfected crew failed. “Bloody hell. This is a mess…”

Pulling out a PADD within a hermetically sealed case he placed it on the console. “Computer download all official logs, internal and external sensor reports since the Romulan Refugees arrived on board.” He then turned back to the sleeping Lieutenant. “Sorry friend, but I need to get you up.” Tapping the man on the shoulder caused him to stir and look up his eyes. Upon seeing Cynndle he half jumped and fell out of the chair before catching himself.

“How, How did you get up here? Who are you?” he stammered.

“Easy there, I didn’t mean to scare you. I am Lieutenant Oin’sun. The USS Lorenza made it to Starbase 4. We have medical teams on board doing what we can.” Cynndle said.

“But the virus…” the Lieutenant said as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes.“The ship is in quarantine. Part of what I am doing up here. All SBB staff are in full hazmat gear so we should be clear.” Cynndle said as he stepped up to the console. “I assume you locked the ship down?”

The Lieutenant nodded, “Yeah, everyone was sick and I felt a bit better though that seems to have passed. Feel horrible now. The acting Captain was worried people may try to get off and ordered me to seal the bridge and lock everything down…”

“You did well. The logs show an attempt to beam off the ship. It would have been a disaster. If you give me a minute I am going to add another layer of lockouts to this then we can get you to sickbay, ok?” Cynndle said with a smile through his hazmat suit as he began adding another layer to the lockdown.

After a moment he stood up and looked back to the Lieutenant, “What do you say we get you to sickbay and have the doctors look after you, Lieutenant…Sorry I didn’t get your name?”

“If the doctors think they can cure this,” the Lieutenant said, waving a hand at the marks on his face, “then lead on. I can walk. My name is James Locke by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, James, I’m Cynndle. Let’s get you moving.” Cynndle said as Lieutenant Locke stood up and they headed back to sickbay.

“Hey Doc and Cynndle are you guys doing OK? How is it looking over there? Doc, Your vitals are spiking. I’m seeing an increased heart rate and an increase in your oxygen rates. You gotta calm down, Doc. Breath and focus. Cynndle what are you finding on your way to the bridge? Is anyone less affected? “

Cynndle just finished opening the access panel on the turbolift and activated the suit’s com unit to respond while he tried to manually force the doors open, “Not there yet but will be in a few minutes just forcing my way into the lift controls. The bridge is locked down….” Looking through the wires, he cursed, ‘Damn mess in here,’ he thought. “On my way to the bridge, we came across a few younger crew who were more mobile as well as women who seemed pretty normal though was infected. She is on her way to sickbay with a Telllarite who was pretty worked up. That’s it from me for now. I will send an update when I have one.”

“OK, Cynndle and Doc, we need to figure out someplace over there to separate the young and those showing signs of being less infected. Preferably in two different locations till we can figure this out.”

Longfellow tapped his comm badge, “I would say put our harder cases in sickbay and within a deck or two of sickbay – put our young and less infected on decks 1 through 3.”

S’ Atilen turned the comm link to mute “Neva, we need to figure out a way to protect everybody if we bring a sample over for testing. I’m thinking of a medical grade force field around the sample as soon as it materializes, followed up by a medical grade quarantine field. We have got to make sure there is no way that this even has a chance to spread on the station.”

Neva tapped her comm badge when she heard S’Atilen. Her usual jovial demeanor was gone. Her dark eyes were haunted with worry. “Lieutenant, we’ve isolated which cells were affected, but I’m not sure we can get them repaired well enough to work. Somehow, every time we get new ones transported over, they recontaminate.” Neva ran curled fingers rapidly through her already unraveling bun & sighed hard. “I’m running out of ideas. I think even the greatest engineer I know-Captain Scott-wouldn’t be able to salvage this.” She looked down a moment, then up with tears glistening in her eyes. “I wish I had better news.”

Cynndle’s voice came over the com to Neva, “Thanks for the heads up, Neva. It is worrying that the bio-neural gel packs have been infected. Can you tell if they were cleared and then recontaminated after transport, such as a latent carrier maybe, or do they come across, and the filters are unable to remove the contagion?”

“I’m scratching my head here too. I think you’re right; the gels ARE infected, as well as the people.” Neva sighed, grabbing her temple with one hand & squeezing in frustration before continuing. “When we’ve gotten the contaminated gels, we IMMEDIATELY transport them out into space. I don’t know if that’s the BEST way, but that’s the quickest one we could come up with in this situation.” Neva quickly scanned the bay & her panel. Nothing different. Damn…

“OK, let me think on this for a minute. Maybe the medical team can provide some insight. I am just stepping onto the bridge now and will try to run some scans from this end. It may provide some additional information.” Cynndle responded over the coms.

“Doc, don’t forget we need as much info as we can get for the system. Samples from different age groups, sexes, and races. Any info we can get now will only help us figure this out. “

Henry gave a nod to himself as he turned to the medical team with him, “Let’s get to work.  The sooner we have the samples, the sooner we have answers.”

Cynndle activated his coms e as he walked down the corridor after leaving the bridge, Lieutenant Locke in tow. “On my way back to sickbay, be there in a few minutes and can help to direct crew around. Neva, let’s put a hold on those bio-neural packs how until we have a better idea of what is happening. Maybe worth coming over here and examining them to remove any risk of exposure.”

Neva nodded. “I think that may be the only way left to us. I’ll get a couple of other engineers and we’ll be over.” She taps her comm to end the connection and looks around and waves over a couple of her comrades. Quickly Neva explains what has transpired and the current plan. They all exchange uneasy looks, but head for the EV suits lockers anyway. 

Once adorned, Neva taps her comm badge again. “Cordon to Oin’sun. We’re suited up and ready. Beam 3 up please.” Even in an emergency, Neva spoke with manners. ‘Mama didn’t raise no fool’ she thought with a smirk.

“Sounds good Ensign. Will see you over here when you arrive. I will be in sickbay when you arrive. Oin’sun out.” Cynndle said over the coms before clicking them off. Turning to look at Lieutenant Locke he put out an arm and caught him as he stumbled. “Almost there mate.”

“Personal log.

Thea is dead.”  He sighed as he sat on the couch, his heart heavy.  It had been months since her death on the ship.  Half of the crew had died from the manufactured plague.  It had impacted the older crew, and despite everything that they had tried in the hours after discovering the reality…there had been nothing to do.  He had sat by her bed as she breathed her last and faded into the darkness.  They had found a way to save the younger population of the ship, and with the incredible help of operations, science, engineering, and more – they had saved lives.

The loss didn’t just sting.  It bled.  For many days and weeks after, it was a festering wound in his heart.  Even his good friend Asata Hiro had been unable to shake him loose from the loss.  Henry had lost the love of his life…and nothing was ever going to be good enough.  He let out another sigh and continued, “Her service helped.  I’ve kept to a minimum duty schedule.”  He felt like sighing again but held himself.  “It was hard in July.  I felt the darkness take over for most of the month.  It’s only been in the last few weeks that I’ve found myself able to see hope in the every day like I used to…but I remember her, and it’s just…it’s a thing.  If I was giving advice to me as a patient…,” he chuckled wryly to himself, “I’d tell myself to take the time to think about what I wanted to do next…to choose a wise direction for my emotions and feelings to go.”  He shook his head, “I’m not sure that staying here is going to help.  It’s an old part of a story when someone loses something so precious they have to leave for a time in order to find their way back.”  He paused and considered his words.  “I’m not sure I want to find my way back here.  The memories…are too much for me.  I know I should be stronger…but sometimes you have to admit when you need to find a new home and a new community to begin again.”  A sip of his soda and he finished with, “I’ve put in my application to a few stations and ships…I do not know if they’ll consider me…but it’s either that…or retire to some far away colony.”

He tapped the PADD, “End log.  Save.”  A beep, and it was done. Longfellow sighed.  He tapped a message to Asata.  They were overdue a conversation.

The snap of a branch underfoot, then another, announced the path that Katlyn was bush-bashing ahead of Parze through the forest. The path that had looked so clean and easy when looked at from the broken rear of the Fantail was anything but once one was on the ground. The runabout had done a better job of taking the tops off of trees than of smashing them completely to the ground. “This is old, old growth, and damp too. This forest must be ancient,” Katlyn said out loud, pausing to check her tricorder once more.

She’d set a direction while looking from the runabout and the device’s inertial reference had kept them going on a mostly straight course, accounting for the occasional stop to check and re-orientate. “Are you getting any clear life signs Lyra?” Katlyn asked, waving her own tricorder around. “Because mine is off the charts. I can’t tell the trees from the forest.”

When Katlyn had been trudging a path through the forest assuredly, Parze had been trailing behind, poking and prodding at her tricorder. It was in that moment her absent-minded curiosity paid off. The adjustments she’d been making to her sensors proved applicable; the ping of lifesigns on her tricorder display was especially satisfying. “That way,” Cadet Parze replied, pointing her tricorder in the direction she was indicating. “Let’s adjust our path by a couple of degrees to the west,” Parze said, “and we’ll catch up with them faster.” 

“You’ve got something other than everything? Sounds good to me,” she said, taking a bearing from Parze’s pointed direction and trudging forth once more. “This entire planet would be excellent for a few survival training courses. Way to much life, relatively cool, pre-crashed runabout…” she trailed off at last condition.

“Pre-crashed,” Parze giggled back at Katlyn.

Idle chatter and discussions aside while they walked, it was another twenty minutes, with a couple of stops for unexplainable sounds, before Katlyn stopped Parze with a silent hand gesture, then another to crouch down and join her. “Something’s not right,” she whispered as she pointed out what she’d seen from her leading position. Nia and Tate were both seated on the ground at the base of a tree wide enough to fill a soccer goal, a Romulan standing over them, back presented to Katlyn and Parze. “Why are they sitting there? If they found him, shouldn’t they be leading him back to the Fantail?”

While their Romulan’ guest’ guarded them, Horin was trying to sense any of the others from their team. With his eyes closed for a second he was able to pick up on Katlyn and Parze before he was grabbed by the top of his vest by the Romulan who immediately stuck his disruptor against his chin. 

“Open your eyes, Betazoid!” He snapped at Horin. “I know what you’re trying to do and reaching out to one of your friends is not going to help you. This weapon is set to its highest setting, so if you want to be dust on the floor of this godforsaken jungle then go right ahead.”

Instantly Horin opened his eyes and just nodded in silence as he knew he couldn’t push their captor any further. He felt a sense of concern flowing from Nia at the altercation followed by a sense of relief after Horin was let go and pushed back onto the ground. He landed straight into a muddy puddle. Splash. The moment his rear-end smacked the pool of earthy gunk, his trousers were straight away covered and wet. Wincing at the discomfort, Horin tried to move and sit up but was knocked off his balance when the Romulan smacked him in the jaw.

“Did I say you could move, cadet?” He screamed at Horin. 

Landing face first into the mud, Horin pushed himself up and then spat out the blood that had appeared. He didn’t reply to the Romulan, which appeared to anger him. It resulted in the Romulan grabbing Horin by a clump of his now dirty blonde hair and pulling him across the ground before chucking him down onto the ground. 

“You cadets lack the disciplinary that the Star Navy offers its officers,” He said as he grabbed Horin by the cheeks between his right hand before spitting on him. “Perhaps I’ll teach you their ways.” Once again he smacked Horin across the face, followed by a kick to the ribs as Horin fell to the floor one more time. 

“Okay, fuck that guy,” Katlyn whispered to Parze as she made sure to drop further down and out of sight. Her hands went straight to sorting out her bow, the complex compound nature of it preventing her from doing something so rakish as hooking it over a shoulder, instead having opted to carry it in one hand. A quick check for damage, then over the pulleys, then she nodded once. “Please tell me you’re better with a phaser than I am,” she directed to Parze as she drew an arrow. “I’d rather I distract and you stun than you distract and I impale this guy with an arrow.”

Crouched low and flat beside Katlyn, Parze tucked away her tricorder and retrieved the phaser from its holster.  She secured the pistol grip between both of her hands, as she steadied the aim of her emitter, pointing it at the violent Romulan.  Without looking at Katlyn, Parze whispered, “I’m better with a phaser than I am in a cockpit, if that means much,” referring to a couple of disastrous piloting lessons Parze had taken with Katlyn.  For good measure, Parze tapped the toggle to widen the aperture of her phaser, knowing she couldn’t rely on pinpoint accuracy.  In agreement, Parze said, “You distract; I stun.”

Katlyn nodded her head in a final agreement and understanding, then shuffled away from Parze in the undergrowth, circling around some and being careful not to make any sound as she went. Careful steps, slow placement of feet, backtracking on occasion to go around a minor obstacle, but eventually she found a spot about 60 degrees around from Parze’s position that looked good. A glance went to the quiver of arrows, then the bow, and then a totally different idea came to mind. The string was pulled taunt and then released, the twang audible to draw attention, followed by a violent snapping of twigs as someone was running throw the brush, the bright pink of the bow easier to spot than the darker field jacket for sure.

As the Romulan picked up Horin, once again, Horin heard the noise and knew who was nearby. Sensing his friends, he smirked up at his captor (even with blood trickling from his broken nose). “You’re about to get a lesson from Starfleet Academy’s finest,” He spat out before the Romulan threw him against the floor and wasn’t ready to deal with what hit him next.

Nia looked completely baffled at this sudden demonstration of defiance and confidence. She’d been frozen to the spot, mindful of a weapon levelled at her, the immediate threat. Her attention was also snapped in the direction of the distraction, which in itself just made her more nervous. Still, she looked their captor in the eye and proclaimed, “Yeah!” with more bold-faced assertion than actual knowledge.

From her hiding spot in the brush, Parze swallowed a growl, as she dutifully observed Nia, Horin and the Romulan aggressor.  She maintained her grip on her phaser –emitter pointed at the Romulan– but she had missed her shot.  When the Romulan had turned the disruptor away from Horin, Parze had hesitated.  Now that the disrupter was aimed at Nia, Parze wasn’t confident she could stun the Romulan before he vaporised one of the cadets.  She would have to wait for her next opening as the cadets continued to distract the Romulan.

With a surge of energy, Horin screamed at the Romulan as he launched himself into the air and tackled him around his waist. Knocking the Romulan off his feet and the disruptor out of his hand, Horin scrambled to get on top of the fallen enemy as he smacked him into the face with several punches, knocking him out of consciousness. 

The sound of fighting wasn’t what Katlyn had been expecting at all. A disruptor or shouts, then a phaser and the all clear was what she’d imagined. Not a scream then the sounds of people fighting in a forest. She spun on a heel, drew an arrow and drew as she checked behind her, finding nothing. It was only half a second before she was sprinting back the way she‘d come, charging into the clearing with bow ready to draw and loose, but arrow aimed down like she’d been taught. And all she saw was Horin beating the crap out of the Romulan. It was two, then three, a fourth and final punch before she dropped the bow to the ground and grabbed at Horin’s raised fist to stop his assault. “He’s out of it Horin, yah got him.”

Realising what he was doing, Horin stopped and looked up at Katlyn. Exhausted and in pain, he dropped his hand down and got off the Romulan. Collapsing back into the mud, he hadn’t realised what he had just done before and just sat there for a minute to calm himself. The Romulan’s bruised and cut face was now in front of him. 

Padding out of the brush where she had been hiding, Parze kept her phaser trained on the prone Romulan.  She hadn’t taken an opportunity earlier when Horin had swung into her line of fire as he’d beat the aggressor down. Before she got too close, Parze squeezed the trigger, hitting the seemingly-unconscious Romulan in the chest with a stun blast.  As soon as she felt eyes on her, Parze sheepishly replied, “For safety’s sake.”

The cadets all started to chuckle somewhat at the same time several transporter beams, appeared a few meters away from them. Once they were materialised, the head of the group introduced herself as the first officer of the ship that had picked out the distress call. Seeing the group of cadets in the middle of something with the Romulan by Horin’s feet, the Starfleet officer suggested they took them back to their vessel and got them home to Starbase Bravo. 

Their little trip was finally over.

After all the new security personnel got checked in they received there patrol assignments. Ta’set was assigned to patrol with an attractive human female, an Ensign Thompson. “Greetings Ensign. Is this your first assignment since you left the academy?” Ta’set asks as he walks up to the woman before they begin their patrol. Ta’set is tugging on his uniform a bit, still not quite used to how it feels. Though he is thankful to finally be armed again now that he has a duty posting in security. Being completely unarmed is such a weird feeling for him.

Sonja was happy to finally have an assignment. She had felt so useless sitting in classes for the past few days prior. She was teamed up with a Romulan one of the few she had encountered during her time in Starfleet. She met him outside the security office and waited as he greeted her. “Hello Ensign Ta’set, I had a few acting assignments in the Academy, but nothing like this.” She noticed he seemed to be uncomfortable in the uniform, but decided she wasn’t in a place to ask why. She just continued to walk towards the Promenade until the two arrived there.

“So looks like we’re to patrol the main ring of the Promenade seems like a pretty straight forward day.” She said with enthusiasm.

“I guess we should get to know the area and the people here as the commander suggested. Want to start with a restaurant? I haven’t eaten yet today”

Sonja looked around for a moment “Eating on duty? Is that allowed?” She asked wondering why the suggestion had been given. She had never heard of that in her time as a Cadet did it change when you got an assignment?

“Is that not a good way to meet the people of the promenade! Aren’t we supposed to be a presence here? I feel like places where people are likely to gather would be the best place to do that?”

Sonja thought for a moment “I guess it could be possible.”

“Should we head to ”The Gate Inn”? It is in our sector and seems as good a place as any to start.”

Sonja nodded and made her way with Ta’set to The Gate Inn. “Looks like a friendly place hopefully it stays peaceful.”

“Indeed” Ta’set says. He slots an open table and leads Sonja to it. When a waiter shows up he orders and osal twist and a green tea. He keeps his eyes and ears open scanning the restaurant for a thing out of place.

Sonja did the same thing in almost synchronized movement. As they sit at the table she ordered a English breakfast tea and a bagel before settling into the seat “This place seems pleasant and well managed. Looks like we shouldn’t have many problems here. I’ll be able to say more one I try the food.“ she chuckled.

After a few minutes the food arrives. “It’s not as good as at home, but its better than I expected from the Federation.” Ta’set remarked trying his osal. “You are right. This place seems pretty quiet. I wouldn’t imagine many nefarious things go on here.” He looks around again. “So where should we go after this?”

She looked across the way at the gaming establishment on the other side of the promenade “I think there could be a place we find something of interest.” She said as she wiped her mouth from what she had just ate.

Ta’set finishes his food. “Lead the way” 

Sonja nodded and led the way over to the establishment and peered in looking at the activity trying to see if she could catch something “You see anything that could be suspicious?”

“Its a gaming establishment. Doesn’t that guarantee something suspicious is going on inside?” Ta’sat replies with a small chuckle. “Look. That Ferengi over there, by the dabo table.  Watch his hands.”

Sonja nodded and began to watch the Ferengi . A small amount of time later she saw him make a motion with his hands on different occasions. “I think he is signaling that Orion over there.” She said covertly motioning to the Orion. 

“I think you are right. We should intervene.”

She nodded and looked around “How should we do that though? They have quite a few people around and we could hurt someone if we take the wrong action.”

“Well I don’t think we need to go in guns blazing. Maybe we should just join the next game. Maybe our presence will help”

Sonja looked around and nodded “Let’s do it. We should be able to win the right way if the game isn’t being thrown in the favor of the cheaters.”

Even the basic remedy from the medkit had done wonders, Callahan thought as he swam a little back into conscious thought. It hadn’t simply taken away the worst of the pain in his leg and his ribs, but was making everything quieter, more peaceful. The hint of light cascading through the cockpit canopy from in between the trees could dance now, dust motes drifting across like gold dust, and if they settled on him then maybe they could heal him –

He stopped. Frowned. And realised that maybe the painkillers were not bringing him to conscious thought as much as he’d believed. Blinking hard to try to get back his senses, he gingerly tilted his head from where he was propped up on the deck – the bulkhead? – to take in the wreckage and the quiet.

“Oh,” he groaned as he spotted Connolly nearby, not out of disapproval to see him but because his throat felt like a cheese grater. “You look like shit.”

Connolly didn’t look round from what he was doing. “People in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.” He finally met Callahan’s gaze and gave him a wan smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Like the runabout fell on me.” Callahan winced and rested his head back. “Where are the kids?”

Removing another isolinear chip, Connolly found it burned out, like many of the others. He tossed it to the deck. “Minaai and Parza are down below checking on our guests.” The next chip was still intact, so he replaced it in the panel. “Hargreaves and Horin are scouting the area.”

Callahan ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth. His teeth felt fuzzy. That was, he hoped, the painkillers affecting his senses. “Okay,” he said at length, then paused for a moment. He should have had something more insightful to say. “Okay. How screwed are we?”

“Very screwed.” Connolly replied grimly. “The runabout’ll never fly again so we’re gonna need to sit tight and wait to be rescued.” He pulled another chip and, finding it still intact, moved it to a different slot. “We didn’t manage to get a distress call off before we crashed so I’m trying to get what little power we have left to the emergency transmitter.”

“So nobody knows we’re here,” Callahan groaned. “In the middle of nowhere, when we deviated from our flight route, while the fleet’s distracted with a quadrant-wide calamity.” He raised a hand out of instinct to his forehead, and felt the sluggish response of his body. Again he hesitated, and this time he glanced about the runabout to be sure none of the cadets were nearby before he croaked, apprehension audible, “…how bad am I actually looking?”

Connolly was so focused on his work that he missed the tone of Callahan’s words. “I wouldn’t plan to go dancing for the next week or two.” He replied glibly with a crooked smile on his face. That smile fell when he glanced over at Callahan. Fear was etched across his features. “You’ll be fine.” Connolly modulated his tone so that it was, hopefully, reassuring. “You’ve dinged yourself up pretty good, but nothing life-threatening or life-altering.” The crooked smile made a reappearance on Connolly’s face. “You’ll still be able to give me a run for my money on the springball court.”

A croak of a chuckle escaped Callahan’s throat as he slumped back down. It wasn’t that he strictly believed his friend, but reassurance could work on many levels. Whether or not Connolly knew what the medical future could even possibly hold, a joke at least reinforced his presence – made Callahan less alone, for just a moment. “If we’ve ended up in a complete mess and the cadets save our asses,” he said, sounding a little bit more jocular, forced though it was, “we’re never gonna live that down, are we.”

“Oh god.” Connolly groaned. “That’s the sort of incident that will follow us around for our entire careers.” His voice deepened as he mimicked some theoretical former Admiral. “Congratulations on being given command of this Odyssey-class starship, Captain Callahan. You’ve come a long way from the young officer whose rump was pulled out of the fire by a bunch of cadets. We’ll make sure you always have a few assigned to your ship, just in case.”

Again Callahan laughed, more sincerely this time, then brought a hand to his chest as it turned to a groan. “They’ll do alright,” he decided after a moment. “I remember being a cadet. I thought I was invincible. That can’t possibly go wrong in an actual crisis.”

Whatever Connolly was going to say was drowned out by the high-pitched whine of a transporter beam. A pair of Starfleet officers materialised and immediately moved to check the two junior officers out. Connolly assured them he was fine and that their focus should be on Callahan, but he was gently rebuffed and a shot of pain through his wrist reminded him that he was in worse shape than he liked to let on. Their questions as to the fate of the cadets were responded to with assurances that they were alive. As the officers worked to prepare them for transport, Connolly and Callahan shared relieved smiles.

They were going home.

Heriah found herself in a dark void of nothingness. There was no light but she could see her hand before her face as though there were. She cast no shadow but there was also nothing to cast shadows against. Looking around, Heriah found no light source. Her feet met no ground but felt as though they did. She looked around, turned as well, but found nothing. There was no horizon, no sky, no ground, nothing.

“Hello,” and no echo. Likewise there came no response. Sighing, Heriah realized there was no air but she breathed still. Moving her hand about, she felt no air for her fingers to move through.

“Strange. Is anybody here?” Still there came no response and no sign of anything but eternal emptiness.

“Cynndle,” was the first name she called out for. In this place, she was unsure why he had become her forethought, but the man somehow caught her attention. She really did not know anyone else that well.

“Dr. Longfellow,” though she did not know the man very well, she did confide in him.

Still, no response.

A child appeared before Heriah likewise illuminated by a light with an absent source.

“Hello,” she knelt down to him. “Do you know where I we are?”

“Shut up!” and the child slapped her. Standing in a start, Heriah pressed her hand against her cheek. The child had disappeared, scampered off without the slightest noise and without further violence.

“So, that child again.” Heriah recalled a dream from before where she found him in Bravo’s corridors, complete with the same display of harmless violence.

“I’m not harmless,” said the child’s voice.” The child stood before her again.

“Oh so you did not run off…like before?”

Kneeling just like before, Heriah asked a different question. “Do you know what this place is?”

“Shut up!” And the child slapped at her but missed. Heriah stood and dodged the harmless attack.

“It is you again.” She shrugged. “Just who are you?”

There came a giggling echo of children, perhaps three or more. This giggle somehow echoed in the eternal void. It filled her own very existence.

Looking around, “Yeah, nothing creepy about that.”

Another child, girl this time, stepped out from behind the first. Then a third child stepped out.

Heriah crossed her arms and glared down to them. “Three of you now. Are you all going to tell me to ‘shut up’? Do not be mistaken, I am not afraid of you.”

“Oh you will be,” said the first child. He was an older boy, perhaps two years older than the girl and another year older than the other boy. The trio took off in a skip around her encircling her equidistantly. All she heard was that echoing giggle but their mouths did not match the sound. They seemed to be singing something.

Despite her inability to hear their words, they seemed to hurt her still. Heriah felt almost to the point of tears and was surprised to realize she was beginning to take a knee. Tears welled in her eyes and she let the first whimper escape her mouth. They seemed to be shouting the words they sung but only the eternal giggling grew louder. “Why are you doing this?” But they continued to circle her and sing their song. “Who are you?” she called out knowing fully well no answer would come. “Stop this.”

She was kneeling, and crouching, holding her arms around herself trying to protect herself from the children’s hurtful song. She flailed out with her hand in a desperate attempt to hit one of them but met only nothing. Something felt out of place and she looked out to see she possessed a child’s arm. She was no longer kneeling but standing. Three children sang and danced around a child-like Heriah. All she could do was ball her eyes out and call out for help.

Luca crawled through the access tunnels towards the Subspace Relay maintenance chamber while carrying his toolbox by his side. He opened the hatch and entered the room. The walls around him were filled with dials and small indicator lights. He opened his toolbox and picked up a cyrosensor. He activated the device and began scanning the room. As he reached one of the machines with the cyrosensor it began beeping and flashing orange.

He put the device on his utility belt before starting to search through the toolbox after a microoptic drill. He took the drill and started to open the maintenance panel on the broken machine. He activated the magnetic coupler and attached the metal panel to the drill’s front. He slowly slid out the panel and put it on the ground next to him. 

As expected behind the panel there were rows and rows of optolythic data rods. Before starting to touch the panel he pressed the power switch for the unit. He studied each data rod quickly before pulling out the ones that appeared to be broken and carefully putting them into the toolbox. As he was looking inside the toolbox he picked up an optronic coupler and began repairing each of the rods. 

After the rods were repaired he slid them back into the empty slots and pressed the power switch again to activate the unit. He picked up his cyrosensor from his utility belt and activated it again, instead of beeping and flashing orange it was a steady green light. He deactivated the device and put it back into the toolbox.

He picked up the panel and began reattaching it to the device with the drill. He deactivated the drill and put it into his toolbox. He grabbed a small Bipolar Torch and welded the panel stuck. He picked up all tools and put them back into the toolbox before starting to move back to the main engineering bay through the access tunnels seeing as the job was done. 

Once he was in the main engineering bay he locate a computer interface and began typing out the report.

S’Lone stepped off shuttle and onto the deck of his first official assignment Starbase Bravo; a newly minted Ensign.  A 60 year old Ensign to boot.  He absentmindedly ran his fingers through his rust-colored hair then slung his duffle bag over his shoulder and took off at a fair clip toward the interior decks.  It was traditional for a new officer to report to the CO and S’Lone did not want to break any traditions this early.  He grinned.  He stopped by a display and queried the shortest path to the CO’s office.

It had been a long 24 hours.  Just 23 hours ago was in formation at his commissioning and graduating ceremony on the Parade grounds of the Academy.  He felt…regret.  He knew his ri’nanov <Mother> came in from Betazed just to attend the ceremony and he did not seek her out after the conclusion.  Even after 45 years he still felt white hot anger over the betrayal that led ultimately to his di’ranov <Father> eri’hfirh T’unen’s execution.  S’Lone still blamed his ri’nanov; she could have done more at the trial. S’Lone took a deep breath the let it out slowly. His face felt flushed.

After 5 minutes he found himself outside of the CO’s office ready to start on his new adventure.

Cynndle sat on a reclining chair in his quarters staring out the viewport at Mellstoxx III as it slowly slide out of view as the station rotated. Beside him, he and an open bottle of Andorian whiskey and the tumbler he swirled slowly in his hand had about one finger width remaining. He eyed the tumbler and smiled slightly as the lingering taste on his tongue brought back pleasant memories of the academy after his old roommate, Thanen Th’zalnar introduced him to it.

The pleasant memories lasted only a few moments before his mind wandered back to the events aboard the USS Lorenza as they began to replay themselves in his head. Thinking back to the first time he walked onto that ship those months ago to when he helped administer the treatment to the younger crew who remained alive he couldn’t help but feel he they had not done enough. The loss of all of the older crew to the modified Teplan Blight was difficult to watch as everything the medical teams, led by Dr Longfellow, failed to stop it from progressing. 

The memories of the crew and all the Romulan civilians they had rescued lying in the various sickbays that they set up on the ship continued to haunt his thoughts. After ensuring the ship was following locked down and quarantined so there was virtually zero chance of the Blight spreading he spend days overseeing the reallocation of resources to assist the medical teams and spends hours each day on the ship in full protective gear with the patients.

When the breakthrough treatment came a sense of relief was palpable among the medical staff but that soon vanished when it became apparent only the younger crew members were responding. He recalled the medical and science teams working themselves to the bone as tried to improve upon it but it was not to be. 

Taking another sip of the whiskey Cynndle closed his eyes, wishing he hadn’t been present near the end. Watching Longfellow’s wife deteriorate knowing there was nothing that could be done was incredibly difficult to watch. Her death hit everyone hard but understandably it hit Longfellow even more so. Cynndle remembered hearing about his transfer to Eos Station and wished he had a chance to see him off. He let out a sigh “Would have liked to work with him longer,” he said.

Taking a final sip of the drink he stood up and moved to the window distinctly remembering watching the USS Lorenza being towed away from Starbase Bravo by several tugs to who knows where for the study of the blight that had infected the bio-neural systems before it was cleansed or decommissioned. Either way, the events of the Blight aboard the Lorenza would not be forgotten anytime soon.

With that thought, Cynndle turned and grabbed the bottle putting it away in the cupboard and turned to leave his quarters. “Tomorrow’s a new day” he muttered to himself, “but for now a walk would be good.”

Sonja was off duty and determined to enjoy it. She felt like she hadn’t had a break in weeks, though this wasn’t true she had been pulling more duties and doing even more than she was meant to do. She loved what she did, but sometimes a break was warranted. Her day dreaming was interrupted by yelling across the Promenade. She sighed ‘Don’t react…’ she thought as she clenched her fist. The thought was fleeting thought and she ran into a full sprint to see what was happening. As she looked closer she realized she knew the person being yelled at.

She casually walked up and greeted him “Hi Aiden, everything ok here?”

“It’s fine.” He answered with a heavy sigh that indicated otherwise.

The Tellarite who had been shouting at him begged to differ. “This human thinks my slipping and falling is humorous.”

“I wasn’t laughing at you.” Connolly replied defensively. “I was laughing at the book I was reading.” He reached down to his table and picked up a PADD, waving it around for added effect.

Sonja couldn’t help the fact that it seemed Aiden just couldn’t not get out of some kind of trouble. She looked at the Tellarite “Starfleet officer do not laugh at others pain, in fact Aiden is not someone who would ever do so. He is not only a model officer, but someone who would help you around any turn.” She turned to Aiden “Why don’t you show them the part that made you laugh?”

“What’s the point in that?” Connolly asked, confusion written across his face. “Humour is subjective and doesn’t always translate well across species.” He tossed the PADD on the table. “Besides, even if I was laughing at him,” Connolly turned briefly to face the Tellarite, “which I wasn’t,” he said pointedly, “what’s he gonna do? Call security? It’s hardly a crime.”

It was clear there was only one way out of this situation. “However, if my mistimed laugh caused you any offence then I apologise.” With the wind taken out of his sails, the Tellarite could only huff before he stormed off. “Someday I’m going to be able to have a cup of incident free coffee on this station. Or maybe I should just give up on coffee altogether.”

Sonja looked at him “I suggested you show him the humor for the exact reason you said. He may not think it’s funny, but by showing him he knows you were being honest about what was aid in the book. No matter the apology seemed to do it. I’m not sure it seems most times I run into you something is happening .” She thought for a moment “I have an idea follow me.” 

Plucking the PADD off his table again, Connolly dutifully followed Thompson. “Unless your idea is to erect a forcefield around me, I’m pretty sure it’s not gonna be enough to keep me from getting shouted at.”

She led him to a nearby café that she frequented and went to her usual seat. It was quiet and peaceful the perfect place for Aiden to grab so coffee “Here you should be able to drink in peace with no one bothering you.” 

“It’s gonna take more than a quiet corner to keep me out of trouble.” Connolly told her wryly. “I dunno if you know this but I’m a trouble magnet. I can’t walk down the promenade without being shouted at these days. Callahan and I tried to take a group of cadets on a training mission and wound up crashing on a planet. On the upside it earned me my second pip and a move to Strat Ops, so I guess it wasn’t all bad.”

Sonja nodded “I’ve noticed that you seem to be a magnet to trouble, but it doesn’t mean I can’t try and give you a little peace today. From what I’ve observed you are quite capable and know your job, but you just seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It happens to us all, but I’m optimistic that you’ll have a turn around.“ She smiled as she ordered an iced coffee.  

“I guess I’m just trying to be a friend…if you need one that is.” She shrugged not sure what she should say.

Connolly slouched in his seat and casually slung his right arm over the back of it. “You can never have too many friends. And a security officer as a friend could come in very useful.” He mused with a grin. 

Sonja nodded “So I have heard.” She smirked as she took a sip of her drink before speaking again “Well, why don’t you try and enjoy this little bit of peace and quiet you have.” She smiled at him gesturing for him to get a drink.

“Maybe you’re right.” Connolly had no sooner finished speaking than the lights went out all over the Promenade, plunging them into darkness. “I think this is a little too much peace and quiet,” Connolly muttered. The lights came back on after a few minutes and the patrons of the cafe shared looks of concern. “Planned outages.” Connolly reassured an elderly woman sitting nearby. “The reactors are being upgraded.” He lowered his voice so that only Thompson could hear, “Though I thought Ops was supposed to communicate any planned outages.”

Sonja had been informed of the outages, but this one did seem out of place. She has been told that most of the outages would occur at an assigned time and as Connolly stated Ops was to inform them of any of these outages. ‘Maybe we’re just being paranoid, but it wouldn’t be the first time something like this has happened.’ She looked over at Connolly and shrugged “Do you want to go and investigate or would you rather stay here and try to enjoy the peace and quiet as I suggested? Either way I’ll tag along I don’t have anything else to do today.”

“I don’t think we need to investigate, but we should log a report with Ops.” Connolly replied. “I’m sure they’re already receiving plenty of reports but it’s still worth logging our own.” He reached for his PADD and started quickly composing a brief incident report to fire off. “Nothing else to do today,” he repeated her own words back, “no duty shift later?

Sonja shook her head “Nope I am off for the next two days after working 16 days straight. We have been very short in Security and I have had to help in picking up the slack.”

“Sixteen days straight is a hell of a grind.” Connolly commented as he proofread his report before sending it to Ops. “I’d be looking into the possibility of a transfer if that kept up, then again if they’re short handed they’d probably just deny your request.”

“Nah I don’t mind I enjoy my job…well most days I do” She smirked “I can’t get into mischief when I am doing my job or at least that’s what I keep telling myself. It might just be some wishful thinking on my part, but I try to think I do my job and help others by doing so.”

Connolly rubbed his forehead. “Y’now, I think I’m gonna head home and unroll my yoga mat. I might be able to find some peace that way.” He stood and gave Thompson a slight smile. “I’ll see you around.”

Sonja smiled and waved as Connolly departed hoping that her discussion helped Connolly. She knew she’d see him again maybe they would make plans for coffee without an incident occurring.

Being the lowliest of the low, a freshly posted Ensign Desk Officer, meant that the half Betazoid, half Romulan was assigned wherever Command needed an extra pair of hands. In this case, it was “Meet ‘n’ Greet” duty at the main hanger deck. Basically, it entailed greeting new Arrivals and asking if they needed any directions or assistance.  If the Arrivals needed directions, it normally entailed picking up a Basic PADD off a large pile, entering the Arrival’s identifier, finding the requested destination, then offering the PADD to take with them.  Some take the PADD with a smile, others jerk it from S’Lone’s offering hand. These Arrivals S’Lone thought of as “The Seekers”. 

Then there were those Arrivals who knew where they were going and who often did not even slow their pace. These Arrivals were “The Hurried”. A sub-tier of these offered a brief smile of acknowledgement and even a “Thank you”. S’Lone called these Arrivals “The Smilers”.

There was one final type of Arrival, “New Transfers” who normally made a beeline for him, eager for S’Lone as Deck Officer on Duty to accept their official transfer orders by entering them into the Starbase’s registry and helping them get where they needed to go. S’Lone tried to spend extra time with these folks as he would be working with these personnel in the in the future. 

By the third day, S’Lone had gotten used to the ebb and flow of the assignment. It was interesting to see how Arrivals reacted to interacting with the half-breed.  Because his ridgelines were softer due to his Betazed blood, he was often taken for a Vulcan half-breed.  Some Arrivals even greeted him in Vulcan, which gave S’Lone a chance to polish his Vulcan, which was near-native.

By the 5th day, S’Lone had taken the initiative by trying to memorize the names of the Tier I through II Command Staff and Department heads. These he would greet by Rank and Name. He hoped this act did not come across as obsequious.

Deck Duty was not so bad. But he could not wait to step back into the Intelligence Business.

Cynndle yawned as he grabbed the dark roasted coffee from the replicator in the operations officer before sliding into his chair. It had been a long night of staring at his ceiling as his mind was too full of things to let him relax though the only reason he had spent it passing was due to the amount of food he ate at the Vulcan-Romulan fusion place that Lieutenant Elegy mentioned.

Quickly glancing through that handover report from the last shift he noted that there wasn’t anything of high urgency that he needed to deal with, just a couple of transports that were on their way in that needed monitoring so he double-checked that the computer had an eye on them and set it to notify him when they got closer or if their course changed. Pulling up the computer search he had started the day before he was happy to see it had finished and had some interesting results.

After spending 20 minutes reviewing the results he had narrowed it down even further, it looked like Lieutenant Elegy’s hypothetical patient may be in luck. Selecting the new results he typed up a quick message, attached them and hit send.

Lieutenant Elegy, hope you are well. The search gave us some positive hits. Over 150 actually but most of these had a low likelihood of havign the inforamtion we needed. The computer included all jobs it classified as resturant workers so we had a lot of ones that didn’t actually do any food preperation; still possible people to speak to but lower on the list. I have narrowed it down to the follow:

1 – Dechraib – A romulan chef who is well renowned for his traditional Romulan dishes following the destruction of the planet. He was from a neighbouring regions to Tel’Garch. He is registered to a refugee centre of Deck 640.

2 – Thibek – Another romulan chef whos parents were from the Tel’Garch region, though he was only a child when Romulus was destroyed. He is registered to a refugee centre on Deck 410.

3 –  Bameesa – The author of several cook books on Romulan food, her most recent book, 5 years old, had a chapter on food from the Tel’Garch region but not the dish in question. She is registered to the centre on deck 410.

4 – Velama – Her job was listed as homemaker and is from teh Tel’Garch region. I flagged her as she has volunteered in hyroponics on the station sicne she arrived and has set up a food kitchen in one of refugee centre on deck 390 making tradtional Romulan dishes.

Thought thsi woudl be a good place to start. Let me know if you need a hand. 

Lieutenant Cynndle Oin’sun

Turning to the system report that was scrolling on his screen he saved the search results and began to read the report.

It was some hours later by the time Cynndle received any sort of response from Lieutenant (JG) Elegy Weld, and that response came in the form of a hand pie.  Elegy popped up, lurking over the edge of Cynndle’s workstation with a, “Hullo,” and a request: “Can I tempt you into a nice stroll and a working lunch?”  Smiling at Cynddle brightly, Elegy reached into his small satchel, and he added, “I brought savoury hand pies,” to sweeten the deal.

Looking up from his workstation, Cynndle let out a laugh as Elegy pulled out a pie from his satchel. “I can honestly say this is a first.” Looking quickly back at the console, checking the time, he shrugged. “Yeah, I was getting a bit hungry anyways,” he said and stood.

Looking to his side he gestured to one of the ensigns at a nearby station. “Keep an eye on things. Let me know if anything comes up.” The ensign nodded and linked his workstation with Cynndles.

Turning to Elegy, Cynndle smiled; “I take it we are off to find some of those individuals the search turned up?”

Nodding in reply, Elegy said, “Precisely that,” with a pleased smile of his own.  Plucking out another hand pie, Elegy took a bite and chewed quickly, as they strode in the direction of the corridor.  “I’d feel too guilty taking away from my patient schedule to hunt down this recipe, but those sound like some awfully promising leads.”  His brow furrowing at Cynndle, Elegy added, “I hope I haven’t inconvenienced you too much.”

“Not at all. I just finished up a report on some of the station’s systems and was doing mostly routine work; the ensign will be able to handle it for a little while…..and…” he said as he held up the pie in his hand, “…I have yet to have lunch so definitely not an inconvenience.”

Taking a bit of the pie, he smiled. “These are good where did you get them? There are so many places on the station that I want to try, don’t think I will ever have the time to try them all.”

After nodding at Cynndle’s supposition, Elegy said, “I feel the same way, and it’s not like we’ll have this luxury by the time we’re on starship duty.”  The doors to the corridor parted before them and Elegy stepped through with Cynndle.  “I grabbed these from a Trill restaurant called Binomial.”

“I will have to remember that. So who shall we track down first? Dechraib, the chef?” Cynndle said before taking another bite and looking over at Elegy as they walked down the corridor.

“Yes, let’s start with Dechraib,” Elegy replied.  He took a bite from his own pie and, after some chewing, he said, “I suppose this little mission has me feeling nostalgic.  A colleague of mine in counselling has me wondering, lately, if I’ve become disconnected from my own culture…”

Cynndle nodded and thought back to the report he sent. “Sounds good, Deck 640 if I recall,” he said before taking another bite of the pie. “Cannot say I have had much Trill food but if it is anything like this then I will have to try more…As for culture, well, I get the nostalgia side and it is important to remember where you are from.”

Nodding at Cynndle’s words, Elegy took a couple more bites of his savoury pie and he chewed thoughtfully.  “That’s a part of the disconnect, I suppose,” Elegy relayed, eventually, as he kept in step with the operations officer.  “Remembering where.”

They walked down the corridor until they reached the turbolift, “Deck 640″ Cynndle said before turning to face Elegy. “What has brought on this feeling of disconnect, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Little things.  Petty things,” Elegy said with a shrug and a sheepish smile.  As he felt the turbolift car shift into motion, he crossed his arms over his chest.  “Counselor Rex, on my team, has been like a mirror in that regard.  The things she says, the choices she makes, they remind me how much I didn’t grow up on Trill.  I grew up on starships.  My parents brought with them a time capsule of Trill culture from their own youths, refracted and kaleidoscoped by their experiences in Starfleet…”

“I get that. I don’t know much about Trill culture but Heriah, ah…Ensign Rex, has a lot of things that remind her of home. Being joined adds to that maybe…” Cynndle said without thinking realizing that he had no idea if Elegy was joined.  “Sorry, I assumed, are you? Wait no never mind I shouldn’t ask that…” he said looking over at Elegy clearing trying to get his foot out of his mouth.

Smiling gently, Elegy shook his head at Cynndle’s assumption and his discomfort.  “It’s no secret,” Elegy said reassuringly, and then he blinked and said, “anymore,” as an afterthought to Trill’s secretive ways of the past century.  “I’m not joined,” Elegy admitted, “I never desired it for myself.  Living on Starfleet starships, being joined was glamorized the same way it is on the home world.  If anything, I was probably raised with more Earth propaganda.”

“I grew up on Earth but travelled a lot with my parents and siblings but I always thought Earth culture was a mixture of so many but I guess that makes it is culture…I know, knew colleagues and people in the academy who great up on ships, civilian and in Starfleet, who said similar things as you have. I guess it means you can choose the bits you like and cherish yourself, keep those around you?” Cynndle said with a shrug just as the turbolift came to a stop and the doors opened.

Striding out into the corridor, Elegy had to ask, “Are there any bits of culture you cherish more than most?”

Cynndle frowned for a moment and then shrugged as they walked down the corridor towards the refugee centre. “You know what, I am not sure. It just was what it was I guess. Grew up in a small town so never really thought about the whole cultural stuff really and what I liked. Earth is a pretty free and safe society, unlike in its past. I guess the freedom to follow my own path and the opportunities to support it. How about yourself, are there any things about Trill culture you want to reintroduce into your life?”

With another hand-pie held up to his mouth, Elegy smirked knowing at Cynndle.  “I suppose I don’t really have to think about it,” Elegy said, and he waggled the crust before he took a bite out of it.  “For the past decade, my favourite cuisines bounced across the four corners of the quadrant,” he explained, with a half-hearted chuckle, “but lately all I’m really craving are the flavours from the foods my mom would replicate in our old quarters.  I’m homesick for a home that doesn’t really exist anymore.  The USS Thunder Bay underwent a complete refit since I knew her, and I’m the only one still floating around with Starfleet.”

“Food, I get that.” Cynndle said with a knowing chuckle, “Those pies are great so if the rest of Trill cuisines is anything like these then that makes perfect sense. Binomial is going to be added into my rotation for places to visit regularly. Got any more of those by the way?”

Elegy unclipped the slimline PADD from his hip and he tapped through a couple of menu options on the interface.  “I’ll do you one better,” he replied, “and send you the reviews I’ve written.  Food is serious business.”

After another minute of walking, they reached the entrance to the refugee centre of Deck 640. The doorway was open to a large refitted cargo bay and a large number of people could be seen milling around.

Swiping the LCARS interface on his PADD, Elegy accessed the photo of Dechraib, the chef they were looking for.  “Do you see him?” Elegy asked, and he angled the display in Cynndle’s direction.

Cynndle glanced at the display, “Hmm…,” and looked up and around. “In short…No. But I figure best thing we can do is ask around. There should be a liaison officer around here somewhere.” He paused and tilted his head to the side…”Or…maybe the chief may be the one cooking the food…you smelly that?”

Scanning the room with his eyes, Elegy located the source of the savoury aroma wafting towards them.  Beside the bank of replicators, a freestanding kitchen area had been assembled, likely to give the Romulan refugees a greater sense of self-determination.  The kitchen was simple, with heating elements, free-running water and serving counters.  The Romulan directing the activity behind the counter did, indeed, resemble the file for Dechraib.

After crossing the cargo bay, Elegy navigated behind the serving counter of the kitchen space but held back so as not to get in anyone’s way.  “Jolan tru, Dechraib,” Elegy said in an introduction to the chef.  “I’m Elegy and this is Cynndle,” the counselor said, supposing their uniforms would tell Dechraib anything he especially needed to know about them.  “Could we bother you for some advice?” Elegy asked.

Dechraib looked up at Elegy, a look of confusion crossed his face before it was replaced with a smile. “Jolan tru, what can I help you with…” he squinted at the uniforms both Elegy and Cynndle were wearing, “Lieutenants?”

Nodding at Dechraib, Elegy replied, “I don’t mean for you to reveal any state secrets…” and then he tittered out a nervous laugh at his own half-hearted joke.  Quickly composing himself again, Elegy explained, “We’re looking for the recipe to Stewed Hlai’vnau to assist a refugee in the remembrance of a family member. She tells us it must be the recipe from the Rel’enak region.  The others she’s tried don’t have the right funk.”

“Hmmm,” Dechraib mused, “Stewed Hlai’vnau, from the Rel’enak region you say?” A slightly sad look crossed his face as he remembered his old homeworld. “I haven’t had that in many years or cooked it in even longer.” He said as he turned back to the food before him and stirred the pot and prepared another plate for one of the waiting Romulans. 

Cynndle stepped up and smiled. “Any chance you have what is needed to prepare it? Once prepare we could then look at programming it into the replicator.”

“Bah, replicators never do justice to the food.” He said with a laugh, “Though it would give many access to what was lost.” Dechraib said.

Elegy nodded at that sentiment even more heartily.  “When you have some time after all the meals are served,” Elegy said, “We could appreciate greatly if you could tell us what you recall of the recipe, maybe even make us a test batch.”  –Looking to Cynndle hopefully and making an assumption, now that the rate of refugees flowing into Bravo had lessened dramatically– “We can work to source any other ingredients you’ll need.”

Dechraib frowned, “ I would be happy to make it but there are some missing ingredients and I don’t think they will be found in a replicator.” He said as he dished up another plate before turning back to Elegy and Cynndle, “but, now that I think of it, by combining a few other ingredients I think you can find I can make the best and closest fish to the real thing. No one could tell the difference…”

“You’re a super-star, Dechraib,” Elegy enthused.  “Thank you kindly.”

Cynndle smiled, “That would do well. What do you need from us?”

“I’ll need to think on it, give me a couple of hours, maybe till tomorrow to get a list?” Dechraib said with a shrug.

“Thank you again,” Elegy replied with a hefty nod.  He grinned over at Cynndle, reveling in their stroke of luck.  To Dechraib, Elegy added, “We’ll see you tomorrow for sure.”

Dechraib looked at both of them and nodded, “Tomorrow.”

Lihran trudged towards the counsellor’s offices rather sullenly. He was told to go in for a psych evaluation after his rather… forceful kidnapping. He was told to go see an Elegy Weld. He stood outside his office and emitted a small sigh, reaching to press the door chime, nervously clasping his hands behind his back. He hid his nervousness under a stoic facade.

From within the office, Elegy Weld said, “Come,” to unlock the doors.  The doors parted, revealing a small compartment that was furnished more like a lounge than an office space.  Standing beside an armchair, Elegy welcomed his new patient with an, “Ensign Lihran, hullo.”  Elegy’s expression was a similarly stoic facade.  Although Elegy allowed more of a placid edge to his expression, he was only using it to hide fatigue.  The past weeks of treating Romulan refugees –and supporting the rest of the understaffed mental health department– had required reserves of energy well beyond typical starbase duty.  Elegy tapped a replicator plate set into a side table and he asked, “Can I get you anything?”

Lihran took a good, solid moment to realise he was being asked that, “Uh, just a basic latte, if you don’t mind.” He fiddled with the sleeve of his uniform momentarily before clasping his hands behind his back. He had a feeling that Elegy was just as fatigued as he was at least, “I hope not to take too much of your time. I need an evaluation to be able to be allowed back to work after…” He trailed off for a moment, “I’m sure you know that already though.”

After ordering the latte and an iced americano for himself, Elegy set down his drink beside his usual chair.  He crossed the compartment to hand the other mug to Lihran, holding the mug in the air between them until Lihran decided what to do with his hands.  Smiling sheepishly, Elegy retorted, “Starfleet reports can be structured with as much artifice as iambic pentameter.  It’s a house style.  I would appreciate it if you could tell me about your experience in your own words.  …Unless you’d rather paint about it?”

It took Lihran yet another moment to realise teh mug was being offered to him. He seemed a bit distant. He reached to take the mug, cupping it in both hands. He wrinkled his nose at the mention of painting, “My art is more to do with engine grease and metal.” He lifted the mug to his lips, taking a sip of the espresso beverage. He spoke, “I would suggest we sit or… something. It is a long story.”

“Please,” Elegy replied, sweeping his free hand to indicate any of the furniture in the room.  “By all means, make yourself comfortable.”  For his part, Elegy padded back to his usual arm chair and he sipped at his coffee after he sat himself down.  “Where did the story start for you?” Elegy asked.

Lihran settled down, letting out a soft sigh, staring into his latte for a long moment as he formulates his next words, “Technically it was started about… 80 or so years ago when… When I joined the Tal Shiar. The whole situation requiring this check in started when I got kidnapped by another Starfleet officer. I was in a holoprogram, quite immersed, and he snuck up in behind me and hit me over the head with my own shield.” His tone suggested he was very bitter about that still.

Looking at Lihran with bewildered eyes, Elegy blinked a couple of times.  “Hearing of someone being kidnapped by a starfleet officer is a first for me, I must admit,” he said, shaking his head.  “Especially from a place of such presumed security.  What happened?”

Lihran lifted a brow, “You are telling me… it was a first for me too. I thought I was…” He hesitated momentarily, cautious about revealing his past. Though it was likely mentioned in his file he realised, “I felt like I was back in the Tal Shiar momentarily. He spoke with a rather wry tone. He leaned back ever so slightly, feeling a little more comfortable, ”The holoprgram was incredibly loud, nor did I lock it. My error there. I was brought along on an intelligence sort of mission, to gather information. The horrible plan was for me to use my past security clearances to gather Romulan data. I did not realise it was a ship I served on till after I boarded. Nor did I realise my ex spouse still captains it. I ended up being stuck there till rescued.”

“Those– those– those,” Elegy said, to a stuttering start.  His eyes widened and he simply nodded at Lihran when he couldn’t find the words, until he was able to find the words.  “Those are stressors on top of stressors on top of stressors,” Elegy said.  “How are those events sitting with you today?  I mean, with what frequency are those events coming to mind – while awake or asleep?”

Lihran snorted, “More than a little.” He sighed, glancing away, then down at his hands, “Not sitting well. I had conveniently forgotten about the horrors of my ex husband till I was living through it again. It all came rushing back to me, piled on top of losing a home. I thought I was healing so well till then.” That last part was a blantant lie. He shook his head, “I’m avoiding sleep, constantly using stimulants to avoid it. I know nightmares will happen if I sleep. If I keep busy, I can stay distracted. When I am idle and not working…” It was rather strange, a Romulan opening up about feelings.

His brow furrowed in concern, Elegy nodded at each of Lihran’s statements.  After taking a sip of his coffee, Elegy tapped a couple of discreet diagnostic notes into a holo-PADD interface.  “And how would you describe your support system aboard the starbase?” Elegy asked, meeting Lihran’s eyes.  He wasn’t quite skilled enough to hide the edge of hope in his inflection.  He added, “Do you have anyone to chug coffee and stay up late with you some nights?”

A faint green flush crossed Lihran’s cheeks and he reached up to tug one of his ears, “Ah, well… I struggle with the whole… friends thing. Not sure if it is because I am Romulan, or my past… Maybe its because I’m big and scary.” He half joked. He dropped his hands in his lap, offering a slight shrug, “There is a few acquaintances I have met up with outside of duty. Nothing more than that. I do not wish to be a nuisance to anyone.”

Frowning slightly at Lihran, Elegy squinted at the older Romulan’s square jawed visage.  “Come now, you’re not that scary,” was the retort Elegy tossed back at him at first.  With a slight flush in his own cheeks, Elegy dropped his chin to pointedly look down at his PADD once more.  “Can you tell me about,” Elegy asked gently, “what has led you to believe your friendship would be considered a nuisance?” 

Lihran snorted, “Its the muscles. Trust me…” He hesitated, his smile fading as he glanced away, “I was always told I was a nuisance or a bother by my ex. It kind of stuck with me. I’m constantly watching for danger or signs I am agitating someone, so I can flee or defend myself quicker.” He had never gone into detail about how his ex affected him with anyone, and it showed.

Elegy blinked down at the number of diagnostic checkboxes that Lihran had verbally checked in only the first few minutes of their assessment.  A tight wince marred Elegy’s face and then he tapped the PADD into sleep mode.  Steadying himself, Elegy took a deep breath and he leaned back into the chair.  Looking up, he met Lihran’s eyes and he put on the expression of a neutral mask.  “I’m going to say this plainly,” Elegy said as preamble; “It’s giving me pause that you don’t have a robust support system and you’re not getting rest, not day or night.  I don’t know that I’m inclined to clear you for full and regular duty.”  At that, he made no mention of medical leave, though.

A rather distressed expression crossed Lihran’s face,  “What… What am I to do then?! I can’t force people to tolerate me enough to support me.”

“You can still work,” Elegy said quickly, in slightly placating tone.  “Maybe not on the most critical systems, maybe not for full shifts, at least until you reach a point where you body and your mind are able to truly take rest.  The treatment I prescribe will require your time, and even after those sessions, that leaves you with the real work of reaching a reckoning about how you feel about your ex and what happened to you.”

Lihran is soothed by his words slightly, leaning back almost languidly with a soft sigh, “Alright, that is… fair. What is this treatment you mentioned?” He does the infamous Vulcanoid brow lift as he studies Elegy.

Smiling faintly at the change he witnessed in Lihran’s bearing, Elegy admitted, “That may take me longer to determine.  We have more assessments to work through and then we can decide on what treatment modalities will work for you.” –Elegy fluttered a hand through the air, as if that would evoke ides to his mind– “Perhaps talk therapy, perhaps medication, or other approaches with ocular or aural stimulation.  What kind of experiences have you had with mental health treatment before?”

Childishly and stubbornly Lihran blew a raspberry. An incredibly odd thing to witness a Romulan doing. “Alright, you know best, after all. Uh…” He trailed off, furrowing his brow. He then says sarcastically, “I don’t suppose locking oneself in a cargo bay and screaming and crying counts? If not, I really don’t have any, to be honest. I’ve always been teh type to grin and bear it.”

Nodding gently at Lihran’s sarcasm and deflection, Elegy took it all with mild amusement.  “In that case,” Elegy said, filled with concern and curiosity, “if you’re being coerced to be here by fleet protocol…”  Leaving the question to hang for a moment, Elegy shrugged at Lihran.  “Do you have faith I can be of any service to you at all?”

Lihran furrowed a brow, “I did not mean to come across rudely, my apologies. I am sure you could; if you can handle an older Romulan who has seen far too much for his lifetime and has a lot of baggage…” He paused momentarily, “I would welcome any help you could offer.”

Shaking his head in mild alarm, Elegy interjected, “You didn’t come across as rude.  This is meant to be a space where you can express yourself.”  Sitting back in his armchair, Elegy went on to say, “I’m sure I can handle an older Romulan who has seen far too much, and I have a whole counseling staff to support me.  Is there anything else you’d like to know about me, before we begin in earnest?”

Lihran opened his mouth as if to say the first impulse that came to mind, then closed his mouth promptly as he engaged the brain to mouth filter for once. A green flush crept across his face and he cleared his throat, “Ah, no, not really”

Although Elegy nodded at what Lihran said, he squinted momentarily at what he saw in Lihran’s body language.  A tilt of Elegy’s head and a crease in his brow belied his moment of confusion.  Elegy reached for his PADD and then he hesitated.  “Wait,” Elegy asked, “which one is it?  Not really or no?”

Lihran answered in both humour and embarrassment, being bluntly honest, “I was about to impulsively ask if you were single. That is incredibly improper and I apologize. Not at all related to my mental health.”

Shrugging at the apologies, Elegy remarked, “Like I said, you don’t have to be proper.  Starfleet would like me to be proper.”  Elegy reached for his PADD with the diagnostic questions again and he lifted it to the level of his eyes.  “…But I don’t have a boyfriend telling me what’s proper.”

Lihran lifted a brow, replying, “A shame I am not proper, then…” He let that linger in the air for a moment before he asked earnestly, “Was there anything else that needed to be discussed?” He paused for a beat, then bluntly and quickly added, “Regarding counseling matters, not my interest.”

“Nothing else,” Elegy replied, swallowing a smirk, “but we’ll need to meet again very soon, if we’re going to get you back to full and regular duties.”

Lihran nodded and rose up, wincing slightly, “I will look into booking more appointments in the very near future.”

Remaining seated, Elegy remarked, “I trust you will.”

Lihran nodded and headed towards the door, “I will see you very soon then, I imagine.” He looked back and gave Elegy his characteristic smirk and a wink before he stepped out.

Darion was preparing for his first solo away mission; it was a milk run really but he was pleased, nonetheless. The mission would be the first of its kind to go on his record and act as one of the first landmark successes that would hopefully lead to more of its kind. With a smile, he placed his pack full of the supplies he’d need for the next 2 days down next to the other bags by the transporter.

He was assigned to land on Duotone IV to scout out a location suitable for a scientific outpost to be set up. Several locations had been scanned from orbit, but the intense local weather systems brought in storms that proved to be problematic to the ship’s onboard sensors. Darion was tasked with beaming down to the surface in a safe position and hiking up to the proposed site and performing a suitability survey. Although it was a Solo mission 4 others were going down in other locations each scouting out the areas for the best location for the observation of the local populous. A Peaceful pre-industrial mercantile species that had yet to be named.

“Alright folks” the transporter chief announced snapping Darrion from his thoughts. The Human woman was scanning their bag contents with an odd-looking tricorder “All your gear is being disguised using micro holographic projectors, they will look like everyday items the locals use as far as we can determine” she half shrugged before continuing “you’ll only have 5 days of power for these projectors so do not. Leave. Anything. Behind” she looked at each separately “Johnson your up” grabbing a bag Johnson ran up to the teleporter pad and promptly vanished from sight with no more ceremonial ordeal other than a half-smile to the transporter operator.

Last in line Darion took up the remaining bag and took up position on the pad, smiling as the ship faded out of vision as was replaced by wind, rain, and a very rocky mountain path. Darion swiftly replaced the smile with a grimace as reality sunk in. He was already cold and wet, and it had been less than a minute on the surface. Taking a deep breath Darian put his head down and ploughed forward head-on into the wind and up the mountain path to gain elevation.

Four and a half hours later Darion found himself at the mouth of the cave that have been designated for him to scout out, taking a few steps inside Darian sighed with relief as the continuous wind and rain that had been bombarding his face since he’d arrived finally abated. Slinging his pack off his back Darion sat down on a nearby outcrop of rocks and took in the scenery around him. Duotone was a beautiful place, even with the miserable weather. A gargle brought him back to his senses as he quickly looked around for the culprit before grinning in slight embarrassment as it dawned on him that it was him. He hadn’t eaten in over half a day. Reaching for his pack he swiftly unzipped it, eager for the rations he’d packed. Unlike most Darion really enjoyed the field rations he’d always loved camping as a kid and he hadn’t really outgrown it. His smile however faded as his hand brought out the rations. Vegetable omelette. “NO…” he called out in exasperation, almost starling himself as the echo of his outburst reverberated back at him a few moments later.

Standing up Darion upturned the back and watched in muted horror as a series of unfamiliar items spilled onto the floor “Who in the name of the deities packed this rubbish” he moaned to himself taking in the random assortment of what could only be described as toot, emerged in front of him. Including a stuffed animal of some kind that Darion had no idea what it was supposed to be. Sorting the items Darion clipped the phaser to his belt that appeared to have someone broken or at least glitched the setting wouldn’t change from 1.75 which would do little to anything much larger than a domestic earth cat. At least the tricorder seemed to function. He placed the PADD to the side for the moment. He picked up the canteen and shook it lightly, at least it was full. He had the supplies at least, to last him until the rendezvous the following evening, but he was not happy with the mix-up, one of the others must of grabbed his bag by mistake leaving him with this mess. Three crystals poked out of the bag, picking one up he twisted it in the failing light watching how the light danced across the surface of the crystalline structure. Unclipping the tricorder he began to take a reading to confirm his suspicions.

“What?” he exclaimed on the third attempt. The tricorder wasn’t picking anything up except for rock, as if the crystal were invisible. Placing it down to his left he scanned the bag he’d left on the floor with the remaining two crystals. This time it was getting a reading but was only picking up one crystal, and rock but no bag “odd” he muttered to himself for a few moments scanning the surroundings. After a few moments, he realised that the tricorder needed calibrating and was reading around 4 metres to the left. It wasn’t something he could fix in the field it needed to be aligned on the ship. Groaning about his rotten luck he threw everything that was scattered about back into the bag and reluctantly opened the Vegetable omelette mush. It had a slimy, jelly-like texture and when mixed with the hash browns quite literally looked like vomit. He wolfed it down as quickly as he could trying to ignore the texture as best, he could. It was just a cold lump of matter.

Grabbing the canteen, he took a few mouthfuls of what he was expecting to be water to wash down the offensive ration. He almost spluttered when he tasted the familiar bitter aftertaste of tonic water “Oh for crying out loud, who packed this atrocity!” thankfully though he felt a wave of calmness wash over him a little taking off the edge of his ever-growing frustration. Frowning he lent over and picked up one of the shards of what he now confirmed to be Dilithium and using the butt of the phaser shattered it, placing it into a small pile he gathered up sticks, rocks, and twigs the local wildlife had brought in and arranged it around the crystal pile. Using the burked phaser he took aim and ignited the fire. At least the crystals would keep the heat for most of the night. Laying down on the rock outcrop he sighed and picked up the PADD hoping to discover what sadistic fool had packed this kit. To his dismay, all he found was file after file of opera, Klingon opera at that. With a final sigh and muttering of “why me” he allowed sleep to claim him.

The morning came both too quickly and too slowly for Darion. He had a terrible night’s sleep in the confines of the cave without his own equipment he’d selected for this purpose, but at least it meant his task was to be over soon. He had just 5 hours to scan the cave and then had to hike back down to the pickup location. Pulling out the tricorder he got to scanning, at least now knowing the scanning lens was off to the left he could compensate manually ensuring the scans would pick up the full area, he’d just have to notify the technicians that the geolocation would be a few metres out which wasn’t a major issue, at this stage of the project at least.

The scans went without issue and Darion found himself 6 hours later already well on his way back to the rendezvous location, The cave was the perfect position to place the outpost overlooking the village below, well out of the way for normal villagers as the major trade routes between the town tended to pass through the valley itself rather than over the passes. He’d resorted to swallowing down his last ration while on the move, he just wanted to get out of this place now, get back to the ship and back to normal fit-for-purpose edible food he was still none the wiser to who had packed the dismal supplies and was past caring now. He just wanted home and out of there. A wish thankfully he was just about the be granted. Smiling for the first time in over 24 hours he sighed a breath of relief as the familiar transporter lights surrounded him and Duotone IV faded from his vision. 

Nilah’s shift finally ended after working for what seemed to be non-stop the last few weeks as ships came in for repairs. She made her way towards her quarters to take a nice hot shower, she wanted to do something and thought about rock climbing. She had been an avid rock climber back on Trill while growing up, but her studies at the Academy and work here on the station had kept her pretty busy.

She tapped her commbadge, “Nilah to Cynndle and Lihran.” Nilah said as she briefly waited for a response from both parties.

Lihran looked up from the PADD he was reading from and tapped his commbadge, “Lihran here.”

Cynndle had just walked into his quarters and threw his uniform jacket onto the sofa as his combadge chimed from the now pile of fabric. Stepping up to it and digging out the badge he activated it, “Go for Cynndle.”

“Care to join me on the holodeck for some rock climbing?” She asked as she walked down the corridor almost to where her quarters that she shared with Hannah.

Lihran chuckles and nods, “I’m off soon, that sounds right up my alley! I’m off in half an hour anyway.”

Cynndle couldn’t help but smile, “Are you sure you aren’t a telepath? I had just been thinking about climbing. I am off duty so whenever is good for you.”

“Awesome, meet you at the holodeck within the hour?” She asked to give everyone enough time to get ready.

Lihran nodded, despite knowing no one else can see him, “Great! I’ll meet you guys there!” He was just happy to be brought along with people he considered friends.

‘An hour, that works’ Cynndle thought to himself. “Works for me. Send us the info for the holodeck and I will be there.” He said through the combadge before deactivating it. “Enough time to relax for a few minutes before I need to head out.”

She arrived at her quarters walking in, she noticed that Hannah wasn’t there. Walking to the shared bathroom she quickly took a sonic shower, having been feeling dirty. Once finished she walked into her bedroom to get dressed, rummaging through her dresser drawer to find the clothes she normally wears for climbing. Once she was dressed she walked back out into the living area to send the information to her friends. The spot that she chose for rock climbing was Kalymnos, Greece which she hears has very beautiful views.

After grabbing a bite to eat, she noticed it was about time to meet up at the holodeck, leaving her quarters she headed down towards the holodeck. Upon arriving she quickly loaded up the program she wanted with a lovely view. Now she waited for Lihran and Cynndle to arrive, looking at the time she knew they would arrive shortly.

Lihran was there first, already wearing his athletic gear consisting of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He smiled as he noticed Nilah approaching, “Just waiting on Cyn now. Looks like you picked a particularly lovely place. Never been there myself in actuality.” He nodded once, folding his arms and looking for Cyn.

After relaxing in his quarters for a bit Cynndle changed into his climbing gear, a loose pair of shorts, and a shirt before heading down to the holodeck. As he walked in he stopped and looked around. “Kalymnos, nice. I have been wanting to climb here for ages but usually default to places I am familiar with,” he said aloud to no one in particular before turning to Nilah and Lihran. “Hey, how are you two doing?”

“It is a lovely place, I have climbed there a couple of times back on Earth and I got to say it is my favorite place by far.” Nilah replied, “I am doing pretty good just glad to have some time to relax things have been hectic lately.” Nilah replied as they began to get ready.

After getting his harness on and checking he had sufficient wedges, cams, and assorted nuts to aid with the climb he grabbed a spool of climbing rope from the ground. “Shall we get started!” he said as he stepped towards the wall and attached his rope to the auto belaying system.

Lihran smiled, replying as he pulled on his climbing gear, “I’m doing pretty good. Passed the physical and got the all-clear back to work.” He paused, looking up from tightening the harness, “Well.” He gave his characteristic smirk as he rolled his shoulders back, checking the rest of his gear, “Think it’s been about…. fifty years maybe since I’ve done climbing. In no way out of shape, though.” I am excited!”

Cynndle let out a low chuckle, “I keep forgetting how long Romulans can live for…. let’s see what you can remember.” With that Cynndle stepped up to the wall and began to climb.

“Wait for me,” Nilah replied with a chuckle and began to climb the same route she always took as she knew that area like the back of her hand. While they were climbing something had gone wrong which caused her to lose her grip, which was unusual as where she was holding on had a grove in the rock. This caused her to fall unable to catch herself, and the rope that she had secured gave way. The next thing she knew she had hit the ground and then went unconscious. 

Lihran started to climb behind Cynndle and Nilah. He quickly found a pathway up the rock face. He was glad to have a physical challenge other than his normal weight-lifting routine. He looked up just in time to see Nilah lose her grip and start to fall. Lihran lunged to try and catch her, swearing as he just narrowly missed. The colour drained from his face as he heard her impact the ground. Lihran looked below and swore rather loudly. He looked up at Cynndle and grabbed his rope, abseiling as fast as he could down towards the ground before unclipping himself and running over towards her, “We need to call medical!”

Hearing Nilah shout Cynndle looked down in time to see her hit the ground and saw Lihran begin to rapidly descend towards her. He quickly loosened his grip on his rope allowing him to rapidly abseil towards the ground. As he went he tapped his combadge “Lieutenant Oin’sun to Medical, we have a medical emergency on Holodeck one.” Touching down he unclipped and moved towards Nilah and Lihran. “What happened? Why the hell didn’t the safeties catch this?” He over to Lihran as he knelt beside Nilah, “She ok?”

Lihran frowned, “They should have. I tried to catch her– Computer, end program.” I… can’t tell you if she is ok, I have next to no knowledge in medical.” He hurried over to the control panel, “Let me find out why…”

Petty Officer Neri Givola sprinted towards the holodeck as fast as her diminutive frame would carry her.

“Medic here!” she shouted as she leaped through the door to the one she’d been called, flipping out her tricorder and running over to inspect the injured officer.

“How far did she fall?” Neri asked her two stunned-looking compatriots. She was highly curious as to how the holodeck had allowed such an injury to take place, but there were more important things to consider first.

Cynndle looked over at Lihran, “I was above her but I would say 10, maybe 12 meters? She was out the moment she hit the ground. Should we beam her to Sickbay?”

Lihran nodded, “Yeah, that sounds about right. What..? Why the heck are the safeties offline?! They should never have been offline!” Lihran groaned and smacked the control panel with the palm of his hand, “There was a power flicker. Are you kidding me?!” He looked like he wanted to throw the entire holodeck out an airlock.

Cynndle’s head snapped up at that. “Seriously? There should be backups and backups to prevent that he said in shock before looking back to Neri. “How is she doing? Do we need emergency transport to medical?”

“She’s got multiple bone fractures and a nasty concussion,” Neri said as she kept scanning the unconscious officer. “Yes, we will very much need emergency transport.”

Neri tapped her combadge. “Med Tech Givola, we need emergency transport to sickbay ASAP, we have an officer with numerous injuries from a 10-12 meter fall. The patient has been marked by tricorder, transport when ready.”

A voice came over Neri’s combadge, “Confirmed, transporting to the central hospital in 15 seconds. Teams will be on standby.” Cynndle looked over at Neri after hearing the response. “We will meet you there. Look after her.”

Neri gave Cynndle a nod as she and Nilah were incased in an orange glow before vanishing from sight.

Cynndle looked over at Lihran, “Nilah will be fine.” He said willing himself to believe it himself. “Any idea how a power disruption causes the safeties to fail? We should notify Ops to lock down all holodecks until the systems can be checked in depth.” 

Lihran ran a hand through his hair, looking rather frazzled, “I haven’t a clue, to be quite honest. It must’ve been severe to make the backup blip out enough to knock out the safeties. Yeah, that will be the safest course of action. We do not need a repeat. I’ll scrounge through the circuits and code.” He sounded tired already.

He said as he stood and headed for the door. “We should get to medical right away to make sure Nilah is ok.”

Lihran nodded as he turned to walk after Cynndle, “I’m right behind you.” He grabbed his bag which contained his PADD. He could at least look through error logs and code while they were in medical.

“Send me a copy of those logs, will you? I will pass them to Ops and suggest we lock down the holodecks for the time being.” Cynndle said as they rushed out of the holodeck and towards the turbolift which would get them to medical.

Lihran nodded as they hurried along, “Sure thing, will do. I’ll fix it… after I know she is okay.” His priority lay in making sure she was alright, worry etched onto his face.

Neri Givola stood at the side of Nilah’s biobed in sickbay, monitoring scans of the woman’s body as she lay motionless.

“Oh, hello,” she said with a slight smile as she saw Nilah’s friends approaching. “Ensign Virahl is in rough shape, but she’ll make a full recovery. She’s undergoing treatment for multiple bone fractures, a nasty concussion, and some minor spinal cord repairs. She’s going to need to stay off her feet for a while.”

Cynndle, let out a shy of relief before he even said a word. “Glad she will be ok. When can we see her?” Turning to look at Lihran, “Guess we should look into that power issue, eh?”

Lihran nodded, giving a laboured sigh, “The sooner the better, I agree.”

“We’re going to keep her under for a bit while she goes through the rougher parts of the treatment. If all goes smoothly, she should be awake in around 6 hours.” Neri responded. “And I’m not an engineer or anything, but looking into that power issue sure seems like a good idea.”

Darion Stood staring at the bulkhead in front of him, after 3 long years at the academy he was finally about to set foot on his first deployment, well technically he was still at the academy, but he was being deployed as part of his final grading for the last year of his studies. He’d achieved the promotion to Cadet Sophomore grade something all cadets go through when they get to their final year. It was now his privilege to be based on Starbase Bravo as a Cadet trainee. Swallowing nervously, he looked around the confines of the runabout for a few more moments. All his belonging, little though they were being an actively serving Cadet in the Federation, had already been transported ahead of time while Darion and his fellow classmate attended the ranking ceremonies and received their respective orders.

 Darion smiled as he felt the runabout touchdown inside the Starbase hanger. Movement bustled from around him as various passengers prepared to depart and go through the arrivals process on Starbase Bravo, Darion was just one of many passengers that the station would have to process today, and only one of 5 new transfers to the station. It wasn’t surprising though. Starbase Bravo was a massive Guardian-class station and was in the Beta Quadrant supporting and coordinating the operations of the Fourth Fleet along the Romulan and Klingon borders. To boot the station had close to 100,000 population that would fluctuate daily with transfers, pass-throughs, and normal day-to-day traffic.

 The ramp hissed, snapping him out of these thoughts, as it began to open and fall away from the shuttle’s rear hull like a flower blooming Darion was hit with two new sensations hitting his senses. Firstly the air felt a little stale, not massively noticeable but detectable when stepping out of a sterile environment such as a ship with fully operating life support systems, and secondly, the light levels were a few lux lower than was normal. They had all received a status update from the Station’s operations team as part of their onboarding packs informing them that the Station was undergoing Routine upgrades to Bravo’s reactors that were ongoing for several weeks and that while the station has multiple reactors and many redundancies, It had been decided that the additional burden on the starbase’s power resources should be addressed and Operations solution was for a series of power prioritisation measures making non-essential systems routinely down-powered during the period.

 Apparently, Darion’s interpretation of non-essential and the operations department’s interpretation varied greatly on what non-essential covered. “All Passengers disembark, as you exit the hangar, please feel free to access the station’s computer should you need anything” the human female co-pilot announced with an air of finality that brooked no discussion or questioning. Darion didn’t blame her, it had been long enough of a flight for the passengers who didn’t have to be continuously alert for the duration. He too was shattered and could do with a comfortable bed.

 Stepping out he took a deep breath of the station’s air; he was already getting used to the faint staleness as it was barely detectable to him now. Darion was filled with a mixture of excitement and dread. He’d closed himself off somewhat to the feelings of others while on the flight as there was a Talaxian on board who did little to guard his emotions and Darion was finding it overwhelming. The Station shared that same unguarded raw emotion, but it was distributed over the entire station rather than concentrated in a single area. Taking a few deeper breaths, he calmed his mind. “Day one,” he said to himself as he headed towards the turbo lifts that would take him up to his new quarters. In the morning he’d introduce himself to the Ensign in charge of the Cadets and receive his orders going forwards. Today was the biggest step towards his career in Starfleet since he’d signed up to the Academy, and Darion was going to make it count.

“There is something I was once told,” Heriah leaned back in her chair. Her current patient sitting anxiously on the couch across the table from her. The twin lilacs leaned this way and that. The eyes of Heriah met the gaze of her patient between the lilacs. “A great apocalypse awaits you,” she continued. “Such a profound word, ‘apocalypse.’ Surround yourself with those who know and love you. Only then, will you survive the waiting apocalypse.”

“But what if I do not? Are you saying that not surrounding myself with those who know and love me will prove fatal?”

“Absolutely not,” Heriah replied. “Not doing so will keep the information hidden. It is always a hard lesson to learn; that you may never truly known yourself until you surround yourself with those who know and love you. Otherwise, what is hidden may very well remain hidden. Not doing so will not prove fatal. On the contrary, not surrounding yourself with…you know…will actually keep you safe.”

“But unknowing,” said her patient.

“Do not think you are the only one with this burden. As I said, those words were spoken to me.”

“And have you…surrounded yourself with those who know and love you?”

Heriah thought briefly, about Cynndle and about Dr. Longfellow. The latter having departed. She could not easily surround herself with just one person. She had to make new connections.

“I have been trying,” was Heriah’s response. “These things are not to be rushed and apocalypses are not to be sought. Let connections happen naturally and the knowledge you seek will eventually present itself. I cannot say when, but there is no substitute for surrounding yourself with those who know and love you.”

Her patient looked down and away. “Do you…”

“…love you? It comes with the job. That is not to say I have to…I choose to. Intrinsically and platonically? Yes, I do.” She put her PADD and other notes down. “So you can stop feeling like everyone hates you, that you have no one to turn to.”

The session continued on a few minutes longer and Heriah’s patient departed in a better mood than when she arrived, hopefully equipped with the knowledge she needed for recovery.

Heriah returned to the seating area and picked up the Codex of Ț’Ril, opening it back to her bookmark. She realized she was nearing the one-third mark of the codex and was only understanding maybe a third of what she had read up to that point. Figuring that was the best she could hope for at the moment, Heriah pressed onward. Even the high priest of the Alle’Ke’Zonda’er said that he did not fully understand the codex in its entirety. Not even considering herself to be part of their religion, Heriah decided to accept that she may never fully understand its contents.

Finding where she left off, Heriah continued.

Five and ten days into the fifth month of the third year after the festival of Ril’s seventh joining, Ț’Ril travelled the countryside and, upon witnessing the crowds of uncountable numbers behind her, went to a nearby hill and ascended its slope half way. There, she sat upon a rock. “Alle’Ke’Zonda’er is this rock for it knows not what it does but it serves its purpose to the fullest. Such is the way of all creation not understanding itself within the age of reason and to the fullest of abilities to reject the good and accept the bad. You,” and Ț’Ril waved an outstretched hand over the crowds below, pointing at the people below, “you can only try to be Alle’Ke’Zonda’er. Intent never guarantees fruition. Some of my words you will understand and much you will not. The time of my final passing comes closer but will strike at a time I know not. Such is the way for you all. Therefore, I say unto you, lovest one another and knowest one another. Only then shall a great apocalypse befall you all and only with each other can you see to the survival of your brethren and you sisteren. Knowest each other not, lovest each other not and you will be safe from the great apocalypse. Yet you will be more like the rock upon which I sit. Unknowing of your ways, outside the age of reason and serving a purpose you know not.” The crowds looked on in silence and in ill-understanding of the words that were spoken to them. Ț’Ril rose from the rock and, realizing her words were not yet understood, ascended the hill further, crossed the crest and went down the other side.

Wait.

Heriah turned back one page and re-read the part of ‘lovest one another and knowest one another.’ Her memories took her back to when she visited the Alle’Ke’Zonda’er and met with the high priest. At the time and for the years that followed, she had thought the high priest was speaking prophetically as though, if there were an entity such as Ț’Ril, she was speaking through him, or at least giving him the words to speak.

“All this time,” and her words ended but her thought continued with, ‘he was reciting scripture.’

<i>’See? Nothing but a regurgitation of what is written in that silly little book.’</i>

Heriah put the book down and closed it. With the bookmark off to the side, she picked it up and placed it atop the codex. Picking up where she left off later was suddenly not a priority. She rose from her seat and went to the window, looking out upon the stars.

“He recited scripture to me. All this time I thought…” and her words ended again. She thought of how the high priest indicated to her that there was something Ț’Ril wanted him to tell her. If it was all true, and since the words were written within the codex, of course Ț’Ril would have wanted her to know. Ț’Ril would have wanted everyone to know, whether they would read the codex or not.

Still, there was something about it all that ate at Heriah. A younger and unjoined Heriah, trying to find her place in the universe apart from her family’s business, wanted to know what was meant for her life. She had wanted something profound that would define her. She felt the high priest was giving her more than simply repeating the words written in the codex.

<i>’That is what life is. Repeat. Sorrow and repeat. Sorrow and repeat.’</i>

After her own father left the family when she was younger, Heriah never did find another father figure. She had hoped to have found one in Dr. Longfellow but now even that was gone. She could not bring herself to hope in Elegy as he was already her boss.

<i>’See? Sorrow. Might as well end it all now.’</i>

“I know not the time of my passing. And I shall not make it now,” Heriah said as she turned and looked back at her quarters. It all seemed somewhat lifeless, joyless, emotionless.

Heriah thought on how much longer she would need to try to surround herself with those who would know and love her. After that, given that the feat was even possible, how long would it take for her own apocalypse to come about.

<i>’Never and a day.’</i>

On a space station, the distinction between night and day was purely artificial in nature. On a busy space station it became even further blurred by the ‘city that never sleeps’ factor of bustling ports, constant through traffic and transiting populations on their own internal clocks wanting to partake in whatever is on offer. There were however parts of Starbase Bravo that by dint of their separation from the docks and Promenade tended to adhere more towards the official clock, such as around the sections that housed the cadet accommodations.

“Warning,” the computer announced in a bland but firm tone, “scheduled power rollback for this section scheduled to begin in fifteen minutes. Primary power to recommence in four hours fifteen minutes.”

“Ssssh!” hissed a stumbling Cadet Katelyn Mianaai at the sourceless voice as she worked her way down the slightly darkened corridor. She wasn’t near the academy accommodations just yet but clearly making her way in that direction. She was dressed for a night on the town, or more precisely the night she’d just had on the town, and was heading back as best as possible to her quarters with her slight heels in hand, bare feet a safer option for walking.

“Query not recognised,” the computer said, though not nearly as loudly, not needing to inform the public spaces of an entire section, just the part around Katelyn.

“Shut up, you’ll wake someone,” she grumbled, a misstep leading her to collide her left shoulder into the wall, which she barely registered, continuing to just wander along. One foot after another, repeat until bed. But a serious obstacle presented itself as she stumbled out into the middle of an intersection and stood there, glancing up one way, then another, slowly working her away around in a circle in confusion. “Dammit…”

Sonja had been given the pleasure of the late shift, which usually meant no events or interesting problems. The biggest thing she usually saw was drunk officers or cadets on their days off. She had gotten a security alert on the corridor near the cadet’s quarters. She made her way there wondering what was happening. As she rounded the corner with her light due to the scheduled power outage she saw a cadet stumbling near the wall.

She cleared her throat “Excuse me can I help you? You’re not authorized to be in the corridors this late.”

In the gloom of station night, Katelyn had been just fine, able to see well enough like it had been intended after all and her eyes had adjusted to the dark and faint red light stripping of ‘night time’ and emergencies. But now as a bright light was shining at her she raised one hand to shield her eyes from that which would happily wreck what little night vision she’d gained while her other, with her heels, was trying to wave the light down. “Sssshh!” she hissed once more. “You’ll wake someone!” How considerate for a drunk cadet, to be concerned with the sleep of those behind soundproofed doors and walls.

Sonja stood firm and spoke with an authoritative voice “Cadet if anyone is going to tell someone to be quiet it will not be you. I will repeat again you’re not authorized to be out here at this time. So would you like my assistance or would you like me to call more Security?”

“Security?” Katelyn asked, still trying to shield her eyes from the bright white little of the torch and dark silhouette behind the light. She couldn’t see yellow shoulders, just a figure. “Wait, more?” There it was, realisation as statements registered, processed and finally understood. “Ah man…” she said quietly her shoulder slumping. “This is, that is,” she stammered as she looked down one corridor, then another as she stood in the crossway. “I’m so lost.”

Sonja went up to the Cadet and tried to show a smile in the dark “It happens all I wanted to know is what happened. I can help you get back, in fact I would love to help you. I just need to know where your housed at. There also will be no need for more Security just me and you. Does that sound ok?”

“What happened is,” Katelyn started, then stopped, brow furrowing in thought as she pieced one idea after another together. “I’ve had a lot to drink,” she just admitted, opting for the easiest path to keep things straight. As Sonja neared she’d be able to smell the alcohol on Katelyn’s breath. “And then someone went and moved the academy dorms.” Absolute, honest truth. How else could she be lost? “Just…just point me in the right direction, I’ll be alright.” And drunken confidence to round it all off.

She was after all quite some distance from the promenades and their drinking establishments, especially those serving alcohol and not synthehol. There had been no reports of disorderly conduct or drunk singing, just a lone, quiet drunk cadet wandering the halls barefoot and having arguments with the computer whenever it gave updates on the upcoming power outage for this particular accommodation block. “It’s this way, right?” Katelyn announced, again keeping her voice low. Her hand with her heels pointed down one of the corridors and she took a few steps in that direction.

Sonja smelled the strong stench of alcohol on her breath, but she believed the Cadet still had her faculties, even if she was a bit inebriated. “Alright Cadet, I will help you get back to your dorms.”

Sonja proceeded to explain how the Cadet could get back to her dorms. She repeated the directions a few times to make sure that the Cadet knew where she needed to go, “Ok, don’t get into any trouble on the way, though if you do ask for Lt Thompson.” 

Katelyn for her part had listened, nodded her head, and repeated key portions of the directions back when prompted. But it was all parroting really, just saying back what had just been said, which was easy to do right? Her drunken salute at the end nearly ended in disaster, her heels almost smacking her in the face, before she spun on her heel and started off in the wrong direction, just walking to get away from the security officer who was willing to let her go. “Thank you officer,” she said over her shoulder. “Have a good night.” And then came the thud as she walked right into the corner.

Katelyn didn’t fall or slump to the floor, just walked into the corner shoulder first. She stopped and glared at it for a moment as if it had somehow offended her by being there and not a few steps over in either direction. “Now they’re moving the walls,” she muttered, then turned back on Sonja, stumbling in her direction the few steps it would take. “Actually I think I could do with a guide. Someone is moving the walls when I’m not looking.”

Sonja smiled and nodded “Sure no worries!” She said as she moved over to help the Cadet get back to her quarters. “Ok, are you ready? If so lets’ get you back so you can sleep this off.” She said as she began to lead the Cadet down the corridor. The Cadet was struggling, but Sonja was helping to support the Cadet as they walked.

“Okay,” Katelyn said as she walked alongside Sonja, then idly looped her free arm around Sonja’s arm and just held onto the only slightly older woman as they walked. “I crashed a runabout you know,” she said, then raised her other hand to her mouth to shush herself, knocking her chin slightly with her shoes. “Right into a forest.” Another shush. 

And with that, as they proceeded through the halls of Starbase Bravo towards the Academy dorms, Katelyn would regale her Sonja with the tale of recent escapades with only a modicum of drunken exaggeration at the peril and stakes involved. All while being exceedingly careful not to make too much noise and wake anyone at all.

Sonja could’ve chuckled at all the stories she had been told on the way back to the Academy dorms, but she didn’t mind. She remembered some of the things she had done in the Academy. This Cadet still seemed to be one that had a bright future just needed to reign in the drinking. 

As they reached the Academy dorms Sonja smiled and spoke up “Well Cadet, this had been an interesting night thanks for not making it boring. If you need anything or want to talk come look me up.“ She put one of her cards in the Cadets pocket as she opened the door to the dorms and let Katelyn go. She watched her making sure she got to her room before departing and heading back to the Security office to check if anything had been reported. 

Cynndle adjusted his jacket as he walked down the corridor. It was nice to be back in command red but he had gotten used to the operations yellow he had been wearing for the last few months since he arrived on Bravo. His first shift on Command track was meant to start in an hour and a half and he wasn’t quite sure what he was meant to be doing yet. 

“Deck officer on a ship is one thing but on Bravo…” he mumbled to himself as he turned a corner onto the promenade without paying much attention and walked right into a young cadet.  Quickly stepping back he shook his head, “Sorry about that, wasn’t paying attention. You ok?”

Darion was in awe of the Starbase, it was genuinely a megastructure that the Federation could be proud of, a gargantuan space city housing a little over 100,000 people, a large portion of those were even civilians giving it that true city feel. the mixed effects of the overwhelming buzz of emotions coming from the starbases inhabitants and the excitement, and unease of starting anew were gnawing at him from the insides. It was then, no surprise to Darion as he rounded a corner and plow directly into someone while he was looking over the promenade.

He quickly caught his balance as he looked up at the interloper of his thoughts “Ugh, Sorry… Lieutenant” he replied quickly snapping his eyes down to the pips on the officer’s lapel “To be fair sir, neither was I” he smiled guiltily rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.

Cynndle smiled, “No need to apologise, cadet, I was completely in a different world,” he said and held out a hand. “I’m Cynndle Oin’sun, don’t believe we have met before…though given the size of this station that doesn’t mean much.” 

Darion returned the smile and took the proffered hand in the traditional greeting the humans preferred “I’m Darion Hayes, transferred over yesterday to complete my academy training” he explained releasing the lieutenant’s hand “The station is quite a marvel, the first time I’ve been aboard a Guardian Class station, although not that surprising considering this is my first tour out” he shrugged

Cynndle looked at Darion and thought back to when he first arrived for his final year of training. “Been there, the station is a bit daunting when you first arrive but once you get settled in it is pretty good,” he said and he turned and looked at the promenade. “You received your first orders yet?”

“No, not yet” he replied shaking his head part of this deployment is to help distinguish what speciality path to follow” he admitted. “I only arrived about twenty minutes ago. Not expecting anything official until tomorrow” he shrugged “According to the brief the first few days are more orientation to get used to the station”

“Ah, so completely new then.” Cynndle said with a laugh, “The next few days of orientation will be great.” He paused for a moment, “I have some time now if you aren’t wanting to get to your quarters, I need a coffee before my shift. I can tell you about the station a bit if you like?”

Darion debated this for a moment, although the emotional outpour from the station’s inhabitants was a constant, it was also mostly unintentional background noise, output by people going about their duties and everyday lives “I’d appreciate that” he replied honestly It’ll be nice to get the lay of the land by someone a little more familiar with the station he thought to himself. He gestured for the Lieutenant to take the lead “After you, I’d just end up getting us lost”

“Great, you like raktajino? There is a good coffee bar one section over on the promenade. They do basically everything.” Cynndle said and started leading the way. “That is one thing I have to admit about Bravo, never short on choices of food or things to do…work hard play hard sort of thing.”

“I do actually” Darion replied partially surprised “Though I prefer it iced over steamed” he admitted following after the lieutenant “Yeah I guess that’s a big bonus of being based on a Station” he agreed “But less adventure though, kinda have to wait for it to find you.”

At that comment, Cynndle let out a laugh. “I thought the same thing when I first started here years back and then again after I was transferred from my previous posting on a sabre-class escort. But the jobs here keep us on our toes for sure. You should have seen it a month back when all the refugees were coming through. Isn’t so much exploring but the sheer volume of movement through this station and the fleet logistics is staggering.”

A few minutes later they arrived at the coffee bar and went up to the young Klingon woman behind the counter. “Hey Ukleyr, how are you doing today? Did you have any luck tracking down that shipment of Gagh that was late?” Cynndle said. 

“Lieutenant, good morning to you, I have had no luck as of yet, the ship is late and hasn’t contacted the station yet. If my Gagh is not fresh I will take it from their hides,” Ukleyr said with a smile. “Thanks for asking. What can I get you today? The usual?”

“That would be great.” Cynndle said, “And whatever Darion here wants. First day on the station joining the cadets.”

“Ah, well welcome Cadet Darion to Bravo station. We have the best coffee and drinks on the station,” Ukleyr said with a smile before she grumbled, “and Gagh…usually.” 

“Thanks for the welcome, Ukleyr, In that case, I’m sure I’ll be a regular before long,” he said smiling politely inwardly grimacing imagining the worms, some days he was thankful for being able to keep a stoic face his diplomat Father taught him. Glancing over the menu above the young Klingon woman’s head he fell back to the decision he made earlier “I’ll have to try a Raktajino, iced” he said smiling again.

“Sure thing. Especially for a future regular,” Ukleyr said, “I’ll bring them over in a minute. Grab a seat.”

Cynndle nodded thanks and turned towards a nearby table and sat down. “So Darion, final year at the academy, did you specialise in anything? Command track? Tactical? Ops?”

Taking the seat opposite Cynndle, Darion could help but take a look around the station. He could feel the frustration emanating from the Klingon Woman who was busy preparing their drinks no doubt due to her late shipment. Cynndle’s question however brought him back into the present “Personally I felt a pull toward Operations, I like breaking systems down and rebuilding them to make things run smoothly logically speaking” he paused for a moment in thought “But I was encouraged to go down the tactical route, by the professors” He paused again, this time a little longer, deep in thought remembering the “So I took their advice, seems to of paid off so far” 

“Solid choice Tactical, gives you a good springboard if you want to go into command later or strategic operations.” Cynndle said as he took a drink, “I studied on the bridge officer track myself as I always wanted a ship of my own at some point but who knows,” shrugging he continued. “Though having been in Operations, if you feel a pull towards it don’t ignore it. Even if you want to stick with tactical you can look into the Ops courses; you never know. That is the nice thing about the academy here on Bravo, it is very hands-on; Hell I think I only spend two or three months in my last year on the station myself. The officer in charge of the Cadets should be able to give you more accurate advice. I hear they are a good group.”

“That’s good to hear” Darion replied deep in thought “The station sounds like a good proving grounds, what brought you back to the station this time round, part of the switch to Command track?” he asked watching a group of people out of uniform walk past talking animatedly it’d been a good few years since he’d seen civilians mixed amongst Starfleet personnel it was an unusual sight for him.

“Ah, well it wasn’t really my plan actually,” Cynndle said looking into the distance without focusing. “The Dawn was heavily damaged and with almost a quarter of the crew killed when we responded to a freighter distress call. They were attacked by an unknown ship. We destroyed it and saved the freighter but she had to be put in for repairs; still there last time I checked. The Captain promoted me and she thought it would be good for me to be here,” Shrugging he continued, “She thought getting more experience in operations and other departments would be to my benefit.” Taking a drink from his coffee he sighed, “It is a good posting here, gives you more variety in the day-to-day than onboard a ship.”

Darion could feel Cynndle’s emotions as he spoke, luckily for Darion, the constant emotional background noise of the station meant that Darion only really felt the surface emotions rather than anything too strong. “Woah” he replied not really knowing what to say to that “That’s a hell of an event to go through” Darion responded “I must say the variety of the day-to-day is why I eventually chose to leave betazed and join the Starfleet, Beats working in politics or a position at one of the temples anyway” he added grimacing at a memory

Cynndle snorted a laugh, “I bet, politics is not for me. I am sure you will do great here Darion.” Cynndle said just as his communicator beeped. “Ah, looks like that’s my queue. Need to get running, duty calls.” Finishing his drink Cynndle stood and nodded towards the cadet. “Welcome aboard, enjoy today and explore but make sure you are ready for tomorrow, that’s when the real work begins.”

“Thanks, for the meet and greet, was a pleasurable start to my tour here” Darion replied, finishing the last of his Iced Raktajino before standing up himself “Ukleyr, it looks like you won yourself a new regular after all” he called over to the Klingon who’d served them earlier. Turning back to Cynndle he smiled “Until we meet again.”

The doors slid open to his new assigned quarters, it was small, but it was his, he’d have privacy for the first time in over three years. One of the perks of being on a station is that there was an abundance of quarters compared to a Star ship, he wouldn’t have to hot bunk or share a room, for the foreseeable future at least. Stepping inside Darion dropped to the chair and lay down sighing. He had only been on the station for a few hours now and the emotional deluge that swam around it was deafening. Taking a few deep breaths, he calmed his mind attempting to quell the emotions of others and focus solely on his own.

Closing his eyes, he relaxed his muscles and focused on his breathing, each time his mind wondered he’d bring it back to focusing on the breath. Concentrating on his breathing he placed a hand on his chest and pushed the breathing to his diaphragm, taking long deep breath and stopping his chest from moving engaged the diaphragm to take over most of the work. When he exhaled, he would try to sink his abdomen close to his spine as he could without tensing encouraging the use of the full range of the lungs. Once the rhythm was established, he thought of nothing but inhaling and exhaling.

After a few minutes the process became easier, and his thoughts became less and less prone to wondering at this stage he knew it was time to move on to the next stage he began by counting and timing his breaths, shifting from an even in and out to inhaling over four seconds, holding for a full count of seven seconds before a slow exhale over a full eight seconds the counting helped his analytical part of his brain focus one something else other than breathing. Keeping up with the rhythm he continued until the lightheaded sensation of the breathing pattern began to take hold

Riding the sensation Darion focused on his own emotions and brought them to the surface. He used them to push back the surrounding emotions of everyone else. Being extremely careful not to push them outside of himself he used them as a shield of sorts. Holding them steady he returned to the initial breathing exercise, smiling a little as the relief of silence took hold.

It was an old technique that most Betazoids shunned, many felt a sense emptiness or wrongness if they couldn’t read those around them, Darion found it a source of relief, however. Coming into his gifts at the age of six, far younger than he should have, he was forced to undergo extensive training to help both shield himself and others after the fact rather than being prepared for them when most come into their gifts around adolescence. Darion’s rather explosive entry into his emphatic and telepathic power made him unbalanced. The meditation schools weren’t sure if his emphatic gifts would have formed naturally as it did for some or whether his tumultuous entry into the Psionic world gave rise to it, but he was very apt at projecting emotions as well as having difficulty filtering those of others nothing unheard of on Betazed but it was unusual for an inter-species offspring such as himself being half human.

His eyes fluttering open Darion felt relaxed for the first time in days. Meditation was going to have to be a larger focus for him that it has in the past, being so close to so many people would be the biggest test he’d have to go through since he first had to wrestle with his gifts and learn how to use it safely. For now, though, he was good, though a good stiff drink wouldn’t go down amiss. Checking the time, however he dismissed the thought. It was far too late in the evening had he’d be best served getting some sleep to prepare himself for tomorrow. For tomorrow would bring him new challenges, and opportunities.

The officer’s Rec Room was speckled with various games. There were tables for card playing, billiards/snooker/pool tables, hoops for shooting balls, cases along the far wall housing many board games, an area equipped with many old Earth video game computing devices, and of course a few holo-tables in the event a desired entertainment amenity was not otherwise available. In this case, Heriah wanted to get better at Plek’et, a little known Trill board game.

Though meant to be two-player, Plek’et was able to be played by an individual. Before her were two boards. Both were set up identically. In traditional Plek’et, both players would play both boards at the same time. Seeing how Heriah was playing alone, each move she made on one board, the holoprogram would mirror that move as her invisible opponent on the other board where she would move to counteract the move she made on the previous. And then that move would be mirrored on the first.

All too often, Heriah realized that simply explaining the rules was confusing to others, to include Trill who were unfamiliar with Plek’et. One had to play to fully understand and appreciate the simplicity and complexity of the game. All in all, it was truly a mental exercise in attention and focus as well as symbolical of the duality of the Trill, especially those who were joined.

Heriah, after many moves, found herself becoming a little frustrated as she found little opening to adequately attack or defend on either of the two boards. Then again, her invisible opponent was only herself. Trying to get the upper hand upon herself and besting herself proved a dilemma. She knew all of her own moves and would have to make a sacrifice somewhere if she hoped to find an advantage over herself or to exploit one of her own weaknesses.

“Come on,” she said barely audible, “you have to make a mistake some time.”

Many moves later and still the boards seemed in a stalemate.

From over Heriah’s shoulder a voice asked, “Who’s winning?” His voice was smooth as caramel, just on the edge before burning.  Zig-zagging around the table, Elegy Weld presented himself to Heriah as her interloper and game-interrupter.  It was the first time he had crossed paths with Heriah out of uniform, which meant Elegy was clad in a sleeveless tunic and overly-complicated boots he’d imported from Betazed.  He had a drink clutched in one hand; it looked fizzy with a sliver of citrus peel in the glass.  From the way he was shuffling, it didn’t appear to be his first glass of the evening.  Elegy placed his drink on the table and he knelt down on the deck to examine the Plek’et board close up.

Out of uniform herself, Heriah was simply in a shirt and a pair of leggings. Nothing special or meaningful in any way. Her clothing appeared mismatched; like she threw something on and left her quarters.

Her eyes danced back and forth between the two boards, wondering how she was going to get the advantage against her opponent; herself.

Those dancing eyes added a step by looking at him a time or two. “I am. I think,” she answered.

‘Perhaps I am winning.’

“Shut up,” she said. Heriah’s eyes then stopped their dance and she looked intently at Elegy. “Sorry sir…er…Elegy. Not you. I was not telling you to shut up. I was…” and she glanced down at her torso ever so briefly. “Telling myself really.” Those eyes returned to the boards and she finally made a move and the invisible opponent moved a piece on the other board, again mirroring the move she made on the previous.

“Have you ever played Plek’et, Elegy?” she asked whilst contemplating her next move.

Looking up at Heriah, Elegy shook his head and he frowned.  “No, I can’t say I have,” Elegy answered.  He stood to his full height and he continued his meander around the table to examine the second game board.  He waggled a finger at a couple of the game pieces, tracking the similarities between the two boards.  Tilting his head, Elegy asked, “What’s it like?”

“It is not too dissimilar from the Earth game of Hnefatafl. Only you are playing both games at once. There is supposed to be a mathematical equation you can apply to help you play the perfect game and win, but I cannot see it.”

As Elegy listened to Heriah’s answer, he invited himself to slouch into the chair opposite her.  He stretched an arm across the table to reclaim his drink and place it down within his reach envelope.  Squinting at the boards, one corner of Elegy’s lips turned up in an unconscious smile.  “I think my grandparents used to play it on hot summer days…” Elegy said aloud, at the same time the memory came to him.  Clearly suspicious of a game that required mathematical equations, Elegy dubiously asked, “Do you find it more relaxing or stimulating?”

Still, on both boards, Heriah saw no avenue for a move to provide her with the upper hand against herself. “Frustrating actually,” she said. “I mentioned the Earth game of Hnefatafl. Well the game had uneven sides for the players. And each of the two players has a different goal to achieve. It is customary for the players to play two games, switching sides after the first. With Plek’et, the players are playing both game, both sides at the same time. He who can win both games is considered the Plek’et master. I…” she say back in her chair with a sigh, “…I am playing myself and cannot seem to get the upper hand, one way or the other.” She looked at the boards then away. “It is also supposed to be a contemplative exercise for us joined Trill.”

Heriah shrugged, not wanting to play anymore. “I must not be in a contemplative mood right now.”

Mirroring the expression, Elegy shrugged back at Heriah.  “I’m not even joined,” he said.  There was something sheepish about his delivery, but that, in itself, appeared to be performative.  “I should hope we unjoined are capable of contemplation too,” Elegy said sardonically.  The apparent humour in his eyes couldn’t quite hide the chip on his shoulder about this topic.

“Oh yes,” she said in a start of realization. “I was…”

‘Speaking without thinking.’

“…speaking without thinking. I’m sorry, Elegy. Yes all are capable of contemplation.” She looked at him, almost envious.

‘Beginning to wish you had never joined with me?’

“I sometimes think…back to that time, before my joining. Things were simpler then.” She waved a hand over the holotable and the Plek’et boards wafted away to nothing. “If I may ask,” Heriah seemed a little nervous to ask this, but, “what are your views on joining? Do you see yourself seeking a joined life?”

Elegy didn’t really need to think about it.  “I don’t want to be joined,” he said, shaking his head with an apologetic sneer.  Although he didn’t say the words, his green eyes widened, almost pleading with Heriah not to be upset with  him for dismissing such a pivotal experience of her own life.  Elegy explained, “I understand it’s a fusion.  I don’t fear being overwhelmed by the presence of the symbiont exactly.  But if I were to become Elegy Rex,” –he waved a hand at Heriah, only using her symbiont as a conversational example– “then what becomes of Elegy Weld?  Would I be gone?  Consumed by the new being I become?  Maybe it’s foolish of me, but that sounds like a kind of death.”

Heriah had no words at first. She did not her understanding and a similar smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “It is…as you say, ‘kind of.’ But it is also a kind of birth. And you are also right. Elegy Weld would be gone.”

‘Convince him to seek joining. Then he would not be a shrink anymore.’

“So, I perfectly understand your position. I…”

‘…was grabbing at straws to make something of yourself. Because you didn’t have the strength.’

“…only have my joining with Rex to go on, so I have no basis of comparison. I could tell you how things have gone for me.”

‘Only if you are honest with him, with yourself.’

“But I would not dare tell you that you are missing out.”

Looking to Heriah, Elegy nodded at her offer to tell him about her own experience, in her own words.  There was only curiosity in Elegy’s eyes.  Heriah had never spoken quite so frankly about herself, in the weeks Elegy had known her.  Without the sardonic edge he’d used earlier, Elegy genuinely asked, “If it’s like a birth, a different way of being that I’ve never experienced, aren’t I ‘missing out’ by definition?”

“By definition,” Heriah repeated, “yes. But it has been my experience that when someone says, ‘you are missing out,’ it is their way of indicating that the way they have taken is more advantageous. In the case of joining with a symbiont, it is more of a road-not-taken scenario. Both are advantageous, but in different ways.”

‘What of the ‘Book of the Joined’ where your name will forever be displayed? The name of Elegy Weld will pass away into oblivion.’

Heriah threw away Rex’s shallow and petty thought. “For myself, I saw it to be more advantageous to seek joining. I dreamed of it in fact and, for a time, that dream was denied to me until…” Heriah looked down at her torso then reconnected with Elegy’s eyes, “…until Rex needed a host. And…to be honest,” she continued. There came a thought she felt she needed to out before deciding against it. “…I did not see myself going anywhere without being joined. I did not see myself as anyone or anything special.”

‘See? You need me.’

“And Rex…Rex was my final opportunity to fulfill that dream of mine.”

‘That dream turned into a nightmare.’

“That dream turned into…more than I ever imagined. That is not to say this road is always smooth, fun and advantageous. It has its challenges.”

Had this been a counseling session, Elegy would have asked Heriah to elaborate on the challenges.  As a drink between colleagues, he supposed he would allow Heriah to share that only if she wished.  To some degree, he had already been informed of some of those challenges by Heriah’s previous counselor, Rikata Mol.  Taking another sip of his drink, Elegy followed his curiosity to ask, “In what way has it been more than you imagined?”

‘You did not imagine having to argue with me all the time.’

“I did not imagine the bureaucracy of being joined. My name gets written in a book. I have a level of responsibility to adhere to, yearly reports and…well I am sure you were clued in on the manner of my joining. You were given certain details. I do not need to know.”

‘I want to know. What information did the Mole give him?’

“I was aware of the game called Plek’et; had played it a few times prior to being joined with Rex. Never really understood the game myself…until after. I never imagined a joined life with Rex being so similar to Plek’et. A game with uneven sides where both players have differing goals, but playing two games at the same time with each player playing different sides on each board. On this side I am on the offensive, and defensive on the other side.”

Heriah looked at the powered down holotable and envisioned the two boards. “I never imagined I would be on the defensive as well as offensive with my symbiont. We are joined…yes…but it is like our goals are different. At first, Rex seemed to want to resist joining with another host. At the same time, he did not know why.”

Elegy considered Heriahs’ words with the same intensity he considered the bottom of his glass.  He took another sip, and he said, “I can’t be surprised about the bureaucracy.  My sister devoted years to the initiate evaluations and she wasn’t even selected for joining by the end of it.  It sounds like it would be frustrating, though, to be at cross-purposes with your own symbiont.  That practically defeats the purpose of the joining, doesn’t it?”

Heriah was minutely nodding her understanding and agreement. “Sometimes. The Joining Commission…has its ways. We never know the results of our tests. We simply take them and then are later called for joining…or not. I do not pretend to understand the methodology of their decision making. I do, however, know the feeling to devoting years to the evaluations and not being selected. I had actually given up, left Trill and went to Earth to join Starfleet. I had put my dream of being joined behind me and moved on. Then, one day, a call came from a doctor at the commission. I cannot say this will work for your sister, but giving up, putting it behind her and moving on may be the answer to finally, maybe, becoming joined.

‘You mean becoming stuck together; imprisoned together.’

“She took it very badly, being rejected,” Elegy shared, his voice going reedy.  He winced at Heriah.  “We don’t talk much anymore.  I always– maybe it was in my own head– but I always felt like she blamed me and my parents.  As if we said something we shouldn’t have done when we were interviewed, or if my parents hadn’t been disciplined enough in our education.” –Elegy shook his head– “I don’t know.  I probably sound foolish.”

“No, not at all. Family drama always has a way of making each individual member feel a certain way…on the inside. And they each feel they are the only ones. They also desire not to speak on it. The drama becomes dormant…and it festers.” Heriah started with a revelation. “Oh look at me! Jumping right back into counselor mode.”

‘To your boss no less.’

“I apologize.” Heriah relaxed and forced herself out of that mode. But words were already spoken. She felt the need to finish. “It is no one’s fault and no one is to blame. My sisters and my mother refused interviews when the commission called. They each, in turn, threw up a hand,” she mimicked thus, “and told them to go away. My father, when they managed to find him…he just…made up stuff. Stuff like,” and she morphed her voice awkwardly into a male’s voice, “‘she is a prime example of a Trill ready to be joined’.” Returning her voice to normal, “My mother kicked him to the street before I can remember.” Heriah saw the same confused look in his eyes as she had in hers. “In the end, I find no sense, no logic the commission utilizes in its decision-making when it comes to who should become joined and who should not.” A realization came to her, perhaps a bit of knowledge from Rex, but from a source neither knew not. “Something tells me, your sister is perfectly able to be joined. The timing was just not in her favor.”

“Algorithms,” Elegy said in yes-and agreement with Heriah.  He up-ended his glass, finishing his drink.  Looking right at Heriah, Elegy went on with, “There’s no value judgment in the choice for joining.  It’s probably all algorithms that make the final decisions.  Managing risk and probability, in hopes of protecting both host and symbiont.”

“That is the best way I can think to explain it,” she said. “My counselor after my joining and at the Academy, Rikata Mol said pretty much the same thing after I continued to ask, ‘Why me?’ Even with that answer I sometimes wonder why and what-if.” She looked down at her torso and gave a small laugh. “What is meant to be will come to pass I suppose. If given the chance again…I do not think I would change a thing.”

‘You’re weird.’

Cynndle lifted his head, blinked his eyes and yawned as he looked around. Spotting the clock display on the computer he was sitting at muttered a curse under his breath, it read 7:49. Shifting he stood slowly and stretched feeling a kink in his neck as he had apparently fallen asleep at his desk following the odd run-in with Heriah the night before and the subsequent review he had done of Trill and symbiont pairings.

“How the hell am I going to bring this up…” he said as he rubbed his hands over his face. “That definitely wasn’t Heriah last night.” He sat there and thought about it for a few minutes before making up his mind and moving over to his bedroom, quickly showered and threw on a new outfit as he was off-shift today. As he left his quarters he grabbed a coffee from the replicator and headed towards Heriah’s quarters. As he walked he knew he had to be careful about how he would bring up that he had run into Rex walking around in Heriah’s body the night before, it definitely should not have been able to do that.

A few minutes later he stood outside Heriah’s quarters and raised his hand to the buzzer. Getting his nerves back under control he exhaled and tapped the buzzer, ‘I hope she is in here..’

Heriah was in her quarters. So far, the morning comprised of her waking up and almost literally jumping from her bed. There had come little information from Rex but she had been able to feel a restless wakefulness about him. Nevermind the unmade bed or that she wore only two undergarments; underwear and an oversized nightshirt with the wide neck hanging down her shoulder. Heriah had paced about while feeling herself over. Her skin had felt a little numb, almost clammy but with some perspiration. She had been feeling out of sorts and immediately sent a verbal message to Elegy that she would be out sick this day.

Heriah had felt this way only a few times before and these scenes always lead up to a meeting with Rikata Mol. He was, of course, not aboard the starbase and Heriah certainly did not want to speak to her boss about this. They would only talk about things she already knew.

’If you want to speak to a counselor, speak to yourself.’

“Quiet you.”

’See? There you go.’

Heriah thought about the benzocyatizine hypospray of hers. Since the refill request from Dr. Longfellow was approved, she really wanted to ween herself off of it, to keep from becoming dependent again, addicted.

“Ooohhh,” she moaned as an anxious nervousness spread over her like a wave.

She hurriedly scurried to the lavatory and snatched up her monocorder. Returning to the main part of her quarters, she awkwardly grabbed at her hypospray and tried not to drop it while putting the monocorder upon her finger.

It was right then that the door chime sounded. Forgetting how she was dressed and ignoring the state of her hair, she went to the door.

“Yes,” she said as it began to slide open, “what is…oh.” She recognized who had come calling. Cynndle was not in uniform but certainly looked as though he too had a rough night. “Cynndle. I…didn’t know we had a session today. I…uh…called out sick. Can we see about…”

Cynndle was still lost in thought when the door opened and cut Heriah off without thinking, “No, but I do need to talk…” he said before registering what she was wearing. He blink twice when he say Heriah, “Oh, Hey. No, um…” he stammered slightly losing his train of thought. “No, we didn’t have a session. I had something that I needed to talk to about. I can come back later if that would be better.” he said gesturing towards her as he clearly tried to look at her face.

“Yeah, that would be great,” she said. “I had a really crazy dream last night and…” Heriah’s eyes went wide as a wild realization slammed across her face, exploded in her mind. Her eyes were fixed to Cynndle’s as the recollection became full.

’We need to call security.’

“We need to call security,” she said.

’There is a rogue telepath on board.’

“There is a rogue telepath on board.”

’Messing with our dreams.’

“And they are manipulating our dreams.”

’Get him inside before someone sees.’

“Get…in here,” she motioned almost frantically. “Come in, come in.”

Heriah stepped away and paced about, holding her hypospray in one hand almost like a weapon and the monocorder on her other hand, clinging to the end of her index finger, flashing red. She tended to neither. “We need to peruse a list of recently arrived telepaths,” she began.

Cynndle looked at Heriah, “Sorry, what? A Rogue telepath?” he responded as a confused look crossed his face. The confused look turned to a frown as he eyed Heriah, “How do you know this? We can notify security but we do need to talk about something else.” With that, he stepped inside and watched her pace across the room; his concern growing and his suspicion that something was off with her connection to the symbiote Rex only being reaffirmed.

’A telepath is the only thing that makes sense.’

“A rogue telepath is the only way this makes sense. See, I had this insane dream last night. You were there and…” She stopped pacing and looked at Cynndle, again noticing his appearance; possibly also a rough night. “If you had a crazy dream, you would tell me, right?”

Cynndle listen to her and nodded before interjecting and pointing towards the monocorder, “Should that be flashing red Heriah?”

“Flashing red? Wha…?” and she brought her hand up to see that the hypospray was, in fact, not flashing red. Upon looking at her other hand, “Frell,” was all she said. Heriah looked at the hypospray and her hand began to shake with nervousness. Her skin felt sweaty again and her spots had that cold yet fiery sensation to them. From her forehead and stretching all the way down her legs, they were probably taking on a reddish hue. So soon after discovering and admitting that she had begun taking more and eventually overdosing on the stuff, Heriah did not want to take too much of the benzo again. She brought her thumb up but could not seem to find it in herself to press any of the buttons.

“Can you,” she started stepping toward Cynndle, “set this to one dose?” She did manage to turn the hypospray over in her hand and held it out for him to take.

Cynndle looked and her and relaxed visibly, the frown easing from his face and replaced with mild concern and worry for Heriah. “Sure,” he said and reached out slowly to take the hypospray from her hand. He flipped it over, looked at the settings and clicked his tongue as he lowered the dose setting. “One Dose,” he said and held it up to showing her.

Heriah turned her back to him and pulled what hair she could to one side. Tilting her head in that direction, she exposed her neck. “And hit me with it right here.” From deep within, Heriah felt a building desire to refuse a dose of the benzo. “Do it quick. Even if I change my mind.”

“Ok, be still….Sorry what? Change your mind?” Cynndle asked even as he put one hand on her shoulder, as her hair brushed over his hand and brought the hypospray up to her exposed neck.

“Just hit me with it!” she exclaimed. “Do it!”

’He hasn’t the balls to do it. Take it from him. As before; three doses.’

Heriah balled her free hand, stilling herself against the desire to refuse Cynndle’s aide. His hand on her shoulder, though, felt caring and calming. It was a cool and somehow warm breeze providing comfort in the icy and somehow fiery sensation coursing through her body. Her skin tightened but she forced herself to relax.

“Ok,” he muttered softly and pressed the hypospray against her neck and pressed the release injecting one dose of benzo into Heriah. As soon as he did he stepped back, kidding good have from get shoulder and calmly said, “All done, good are you feeling?” He watched her with a degree of uncertainty, Heriah definitely was not acting like herself.

Heriah felt the cold issuance of the benzocyatizine enter her bloodstream and circulate about. That cooling sensation first hit her brain and then dissipated from there. The medication was doing its job nonetheless. She stood there a moment, her eyes pressed shut, simply breathing. Finally taking a step forward, “yes, I…feel better.” She stepped to her desk, turned and leaned, half-sitting, against it. She buried her face in her hands and breathed deeply. Minute whimpers escaped her mouth as she was nearing a state of sobbing but managed to hold that at bay. Rubbing her face a few times, she straightened and retrieved her face from the confines of her palms. Her eyes were somewhat bloodshot.

Heriah let her hands fall to her sides and, continuing to relax, placed her hands upon the desk to help hold her up. The monocorder upon her finger stopped flashing red and became a solid red. “I assume,” she started, “that I did not have a dream last night.” Her admittance came with the sound of disgust in her voice. Still, there was relief that the recent episode had passed. “That you and I met in the corridor last night.”

’Why else would he be here? It’s not like he cares for you.’

Heriah ignored the internal dialogue. The benzo would soon be levelling out her isoboramine and Rex’s bantering would cease.

“Did we…meet last night?” she asked.

Cynndle smiled at her, the worry clearly visible on his face. “Yeah, I was on my way back from meeting with an old friend and literally ran into you in the corridor. It took me a bit to put it together when we were talking as I was a bit tipsy but you were not yourself and well rather rude, combative and dismissive of people,” he said as he absently played with his hands. “It wasn’t until you left and I got to my quarters that it clicked but I think it was Rex who I was speaking to last night and from what I know of Trills and the symbiote that isn’t meant to happen. Rex mentioned things that you have eluded to but never spoke of directly, that was the tip-off.” Pausing for a moment he exhaled and continued, “Are you ok? Should I take you to medical?”

“I’m fine,” she shook her head. Bring her hand up, she showed him the monocorder on her finger. It had finally illuminated a solid green light. She removed it from her finger and shamefully placed it upon the desk. “Symbiontambulism,” she connected eyes with Cynndle. “It is when the symbiont manages to take over functionality of a sleeping host. Seldom is it chronic but it is always looked down upon, by other Joined Trill, as a sign,” she sniffled, “sign of weakness…incompatibility,” sniffle, “rejection.” She breathed deep, trying to hold back the emotion. Heriah pressed her eyes shut and shook her head. A singular tear fell from her eye. “Rex’s two previous hosts did not last five years before they died. I am a little more than a year after joining. That leaves me with…” and her words turned into whimpers, her thoughts too chaotic to do the math.

“Damn, that is rough I am sorry.” He said pausing, “I wouldn’t count you out yet though,” he said as he stood up and moved to lean against the table beside her. “What can I do to help?”

Heriah gave a single laugh as she thought, ’Kill me now.’ And that thought was not even emanating from Rex. She provided words to her thought however with, “I bet you would like that, wouldn’t you?” but all she noticed was her bare legs; remembered she slept in only her underwear.

Awkwardly attempting to cover herself with her large shirt, “Oh Cyn, I’m sorry.” Heriah went and retrieved a set of the Starfleet issued PT shorts and slipped into them.

“Keep tabs on me maybe,” she said in response to his inquiry. “Check on me at random. Call at night and order me to use that thing,” she motioned toward the monocorder. “Even make sure I take the benzo when I need. I uh…” she stood before Cynndle and looked at him, but kept looking away as she admitted, “I overdosed on the stuff not long ago. Started taking double doses…then triple.” Shaking her head, “I don’t know if I can trust myself.”

“I can do that, definitely do that Heriah.” Cynndle said as he put a hand on her left shoulder. “We will get you through this. I have no doubt about that. If you ever feel yourself slipping you message me right away.”  He looked around the room and clicked his tongue a few times as he thought. “I think you need to speak to someone about this. Medical maybe or…” he paused for a moment, “Elegy, I know he’s your commanding officer but he’s Trill and may have some insight. That and he should know about this.”

Heriah shrugged at the thought. “I told some of what I am dealing with to Dr. Longfellow. I was hoping he could…” and she shrugged as a way of finishing her thought which disappeared about as fast as the doctor himself. “And Elegy?” She looked at Cynndle in an are-you-serious kind of way. “Trill yes, but he is unjoined. He wouldn’t understand. Just imagine how that conversation would go down; telling my LT and boss that his most recent addition to the team cannot hold it together. Next thing I know, I’m on a transport back to Earth.”

’So much for surrounding myself with those who know and love me.’

Heriah could see he was about to speak so she interjected with, “Let’s just keep this between us, you and I, for now.” She put her hand upon his hand upon her shoulder. “I am asking for your help. I am also asking that we keep this to ourselves for now. The next time something like this happens, I will let you drag me to Elegy, or to Sick Bay, or one then the other. Let’s work on this together before we bring in others. I am not really close to anyone, not as close as I feel with you.”

Cynndle frowned at that and smiled sadly, “I get how you are feeling, the worry, fear, I get that, wanting to keep it to yourself but can you honestly say that this was the first time, have you had any other dreams like the one you thought you had last night?” He paused watching her think for a second and continued but not before a concerning thought passed through his mind, ‘A blond woman, Trill DNA…’, “What about you patients, what if one of them comes to see you at a very vulnerable point and they meet Rex. Look I only was speaking to him? Rex for a few minutes and he was trying to hide that it was not you but what if he started talking to someone who was needing your help,” Cynndle said and shook his head, “think of the damage he could do? How would you feel after that? Even if it means a leave of absence for a bit isn’t that the right thing to do? Who knows, Elegy may not be joined but I gather he is a stand-up guy, he will listen and I know he will try to help you and so will I. You are an officer of the fleet, and one who looks out for our wellbeing, let us look out for yours now.” He said softly, “It will be ok.”

A nervous anxiety tickled at her spine as Cynndle started speaking. It continued to spread over her body as he continued. By the time he finished, Heriah was standing there, before him, minutely shaking with nerves. So soon after spilling the beans to Dr. Longfellow, she did the same with Cynndle. Now, she was being asked to spill them to someone else, her boss. Before Starbase Bravo, the only person she ever spilled the beans to was Rikata Mol. The confidence it was going to take to share all this with three people and for it to not get out to the general population was almost too much for her to accept.

Besides, ’Rikata the Mole did share some information with Elegy already. Might as well find out what he shared.’

Heriah visibly relaxed and, with a sigh, “You make a good point.” She nodded away at her understanding. “And no, this was not the first time I have had such a dream. With your help though, perhaps it could be the last.” She gave him a small smile. “I will speak with Elegy. It is almost time for him to review my progress anyway.”

Cynndle could feel Heriah shaking ever so slightly as he stood before her. “I’m glad you agree. Though the other dreams are concerning, lets make sure it was your last.” He took a step back and sighed. “Do you want to go now? Well once dressed?”

’He wanted you to talk. You talked. He wants you to talk to someone else. You agreed. Now he wants you to go right now? Taking a mile after being given an inch much?’

“I’ll…go tomorrow,” she said. “Promise.” Heriah fiddled with her own fingers. “I already took sick leave today. I just want to relax and collect my thoughts, you know? I’ll do some meditation, reading. I’ve been working on a poem. It’s not good,” she nearly laughed, “and still needs work.”

“That’s fair.” Cynndle said, “I will message you later though this we how you are doing. If you start to feel off let me know or go straight to medical.”

“I will,” she said. Heriah grabbed the monocorder. “Call me via the computer tonight and,” holding it up, “tell me to use this thing. The hypospray is already set to a single dose. If needed, I’ll hit myself with it.”

’The party. Don’t forget…’

“Oh, and…the Post Crisis Summit get-together…thing. I hear it is in a couple of days. If it is all the same to you, I would still like to go.”

Cynndle smirked at that, “Yeah, I’m still up for that. Any word on dress code?” he said as he turned to leave.

“Casual.”

Lieutenant JG Cynndle Oin’sun walked into the auxiliary command centre for the starbase and looked around. He had worked here before when he was in ops and knew it fairly well but this was his first time walking in with a red uniform and he was a bit self-conscious about it. He was happy to be back on the command track after the Dawnbringer.

He approached the Officer of the watch and saluted. “Sir, Lieutenant JG Oin’sun reporting.”

The short Telleraite turned and looked up at him, “Good, just in time. I know you are new to this post but you have done it before from what I was told. I want you to work with Ensign tr’Khellian as he is new to the station.” He handed Cynndle a PADD, “Your orders. I believe the Ensign should be here any moment. Dismissed.”

Low and behold there was the swooshing sound of the door to the auxiliary command center opening and in strode a 6′ brick of a male, half humanoid half Vulcan maybe Romulan.  The Ensign was on the older end of the scale for his rank, appearing to be in his 30s.

tr’Khellian scanned the room, eyes locking onto the Officer of the Watch and approached with PADD offered, “Ensign S’Lone tr’Khellian reporting for new assignment.” S’Lone came to attention.

The Officer of the Watch glanced at the PADD, “Ensign did you enjoy your duty assignment as a Greeter?”

S’Lone, without missing a beat answered, “Yes Sir I did.  My 2 weeks gave me a great appreciation how vast Starbase Bravo truly is.” His ernest smile tremored with a slight grin.

The Officer of the Watch handed the PADD back to tr’Khellian and motioned to the nearby Lt JG, “Ensign may I introduce Lt. Oin’sun.”

tr’Khellian turned and gave a quick salute to the Lt.

The Officer of the Watch continued, “Lt would you take Ensign tr”Khellian with you to the main armaments hanger bay and show him the ropes while you both oversee shipments being offloaded? There is a large shipment of Quantum Torpedoes just waiting for 2 eager Deck Officers to process. Your shift starts in an hour.” The Officer of the Watch nodded toward the exit, then turned to the display facing him.

“Will do sir,” Cynndle said with a quick salute and turned to face Ensign tr”Khellian. He held out his hand, “Good to met you Ensign tr”Khellian. I am Cynndle Oin’sun. Shall we head down?”

“Sounds great,” S’Lone responded by shaking Oin’sun’s outstretched hand then turned to follow the LT out the door.

As they walked down the corridor towards the turbolift Cynndle looked over at S’Lone, “So how are you finding it so far? You had two weeks on Meet and Greet duty? How’d that go?”

S’Lone responded, “It’s a long way from my previous occupation.  I ran a transportation business.  Moving this and that from there and there. It was a bit more,” pausing briefly, “Exciting.”

“In regard to ‘Meet & Greet’ duty; it gave me a newfound sense of how vast and complex this Starbase is plus I met a bunch of folks that I will never see again.” S’Lone grinned, “An Ensign’s life is really like a cog in a big wheel.”

“What about yourself? Did you a draw duty before this one?”

“Well, this is my first assignment as Deck Officer on Bravo but I have been here since early this year with Operations which kept me really busy. I also did random shifts in engineering, security and medical for a while which helped me to get a better picture of what happens on the station.” They reached the turbo lift and entered “Sector Golf-One-Cyan, Deck 310, Pylon Alpha” Cynndle said and the lift began to rapidly move through the station. “Before I was here though I was on the USS Dawnbringer, a sabre, for two years as an ensign. Was a junior bridge officer there so did stuff like this when we rearmed and such.”

The lift slowed and stopped and opened onto one of the defence pylons. “The hanger should be just up here.” Cynndle said as they stepped off the lift.

S’Lone followed Cynndle into the Hangar. “Impressive,” he remarked.  The hangar was as wide as it was tall and was abuzz with activity. A group of Ordinance Officers were busy loading various armaments onto transportation carts and moving them out of the hangar. 

One of the Ordinance officers walked over to the newly arrived pair of Deck officers. “You two must be my extra set of hands,” he said looking at S’Lone and Cynndle.  “We are done with the 2nd shipment of Torps.  Your job is to inspect and verify each crate of two Quantum Torpedoes matches their manifest.” Handing Cynndle a PADD. “Any questions?”

It was well into their shift and the pair was making fast work of verifying manifests having decided to divide and conquer when S’Lone heard a very faint….

Beep.

He stopped moving and held his breath. S’Lone’s sensitive Romulan ears seeking the out-of-place sound.

Beep.

S’Lone’s ears picked up the faint sound coming from a nearby stack of Torpedo transportation crates. ‘That can’t be good,’ he thought.

Beep.

S’Lone walked over to the stack of torpedo crates and put his ear against the likely culprit.

BEEP.

“Um. Lt.  I think we have a problem.” S’Lone motioned to Cynndle with his free hand.

Beep. Beep.

“I don’t think the crate should be making that sound,”S’Lone whispered. “Why am I whispering?”

Cynndle walked over and frowned, “No, no it should not.” He said as he looked up trying to find one of the ordinance officers who had seemingly all disappeared; no double taking their carts of torpedos to the various armouries, “Figures,” he muttered under his breath. As he did he pulled out his tricorder and began to scan the crate; his frown deepening.

“Well, someone is going to have hell to pay for this. It’s armed.” Cynndle said as he looked over at S’Lone, “Good catch, now let’s see about disarming this thing. You remember your ordinance training well?”

S’Lone responded, “Sure standard torpedoes in my Junior Year at the academy. Standard Torps are a far cry from Quantums. It’s been a few years since I opened the guts to a Quantum Torpedo. Maybe it was 2369ish when I ran a charter business out of Bajor.  These things don’t just activate on their own.” S’Lone could see the reaction in Cynndle’s face and decided to try to distract Cynndle from why a charter service would be mixed up with Quantum Torpedoes.  

“I’m 60 chronological but due to my Romulan bloodline, I’m 30 years old apparent. Heck, some Romulans live to 200.  But keep that between us.” S’Lone grined.

Turning back to the Torpedo crate, “One of us needs to scan for boobytraps or trigger devices while the other pulls down the crate and opens up the warhead access panel.”

Looking at S’Lone Cynndle nodded and he quickly tapped a new set of commands into his tricorder and a moment later it beeped. “Not reading any boobytraps or triggering devices. There appears to be some degradation within the bio-neural circuitry leading to the arming mechanism. Possibly a random error missed in quality control…” he said as he knelt down closer to the weapon. “Not seeing any signs of tampering either.” He exhaled and looked around. “I am calling this in CO here.”

Cynndle tapped his combadge, “Lieutenant Oin’sun to Lieutenant Commander Roderick, we have an emergency here. A quantum torpedo has armed itself, Alpha Pylon, main hanger.”

The coms were silent for what seemed like forever when a gruff voice came over then, “WHAT!? BLOODY HELL! On our way, we will be there in a couple of minutes. Is it stable?”

Cynndle eyed the torpedo, “Appears to be sir, shall we leave…” as he said it the beeping increased in frequency causing Cynndle to glance at the tricorder, “Shit, no, it isn’t. Antimatter containment is set to drop in 120 seconds, we don’t have a few minutes.” he said and glanced at S’Lone a worried expressing on his face.

“You need to disarm it then. Get in, remove the arming mechanism should shut it down. Good luck.” Roderick said over the comms.

“Best get to it then shall we? Do you see a toolkit so we can get into it?” Cynndle asked S’Lone.

Glancing around S’Lone spied a toolkit laying against the aft bulkhead. After sprinting over and back S’lone’s steady hands made short work accessing the cradle that contained the speck of antimatter that was the Torpedo’s primary source of ‘Boom’.

Cynndle anticipating S’Lone’s next request set a countdown timer on the tricorder. He knelt down beside S’Lone and began helping him to loosen the cradle.

00:00:90:00

Two self-sealing stembolts later the cradle popped loose into S’Lone’s steady hands. They were almost blistering to the touch. S’Lone looked at Cynndle, “I think it’s in a feedback loop.  It’s going critical.”

“We will have to beam it out of here. No other option.” Cynndle said.

00:00:12:58

S’Lone placed the cradle on the floor and tapped his combadge, =^=Computer. Emergency transport. Lock on to the failing antimatter containment cradle at my feet and beam into open space at least one kilometer away from any manned or unmaned objects. =^=

00:00:02:12

The computer processed the request and activated the transportation cycle.

00:00:00:03

Shirpazzzzzz’ went the transportation beam. The cradle disappeared.

00:00:00:00

Flash of light momentarily brightened the aft bulkhead view port.  S’Lone could have sworn the Starbase vibrated under his boots.  S’Lone turned to Cynndle. “Feel like filling out the reports and letting the Officer of the Watch know?”

Cynndle sighed and laughed, “Feels like the least we could do after that. Good job by the way with that. Sure you aren’t an ordinance officer?” 

Deflectingly S’Lone answered, “I’ve had some chartered transport deliveries go a sideways in my past. He grinned warmly. ”All that matters is that we caught it in time.”

Just then the door to the hanger bay opened and in rushed four ordinance officers including Lieutenant Commander Roderick. “Well, looks like you two sorted that after all,” he said visibly relaxing as he saw the dismantled torpedo. “Good job, both of you. You saved a lot of lives today. I will message you if I have any questions.” Turning to the two ensigns he was with he quickly instructed them to get everyone on their teams to the hanger bay and to conduct a full inspection of the entire shipment before both the Lieutenant he had accompanied him and Roderick began to examine the torpedo.

Cynndle looked S’Lone. “Back to Command then and report in I guess.”

S’Lone replied, “Sounds great.  Wanna grab a drink in the Cantina after our shift ends? First round is on me.”

Cynndle let out a laugh. “Yeah, definitely.” With that, they turned and headed towards command.

Darion awoke the next morning not feeling nearly as refreshed as he had hoped he would. It had always taken a few days for Darion to become accustomed to new surroundings, the continuous emotional background noise was both a blessing and a curse to him depending on his mood and right now it was beginning to dial up to a niggling level.

Glancing over at his PADD he groaned inwardly as he noticed that there was an outstanding new notification. Reaching over lazily he gripped the very corner of PADD with his outstretched fingers awkwardly pinching it to bring it closer.

He sat up though as he read the short message in its entirety.

Cadet Hayes,

Your orders are to report to the following departments for clearance to continue your training onboard Starbase Bravo. You are to report to Medical for a full physical screening. You are to report to Medical for a full mental wellbeing screening. Upon clearance for duty your file shall be updated, and further orders shall be instructed.

Training and Development Department

A mild flow of adrenaline flared through his veins as the realisation struck that he was almost ready for duty on a legitimate assignment mixed with the anxiety of needing to pass a few more final tests before he could do so. Throwing back his covers Darion swung himself out of bed and onto his feet. The cold floor was quite a shock to his bare feet, he bared the mild discomfort as he walked across to the sonic shower. Though far more efficient the sonic showers never gave Darion the same satisfying clean feel than a traditional water shower. It wasn’t really an option when in space resources were precious, even on a station.After ten minutes Darion found himself staring at his reflection in the mirror wall admiring his uniform as if it was his first time, it wasn’t but it was still fresh in his memory enough that the sensation of pride that he had finally got to wear the uniform still hadn’t yet worn off.

Taking his leave of his quarters Darion began to navigate his way through the depths of the space station and find his way to the medical section. Even with turbo lifts, navigating the station took a fair bit of time and Darion did not wish to be deemed tardy for his appointments.

S’Lone was reviewing his next Deck Officer assignment on his PADD while taking a sip of his Deka Tea.  He inhaled the dusky aroma of the brackish colored liquid, “Ahhhh.” He had grown fond of this tea during his time in the Bajoran System.

Returning his attention to the PADD S’Lone grinned.  It seems because his clearance level was sufficiently high his new Deck Officer assignment was to act as a physical liaison-conduit between the Fleet Operations Command Staff and the Signals Intelligence Section.  What that meant his job was running a physical copy of selected signal intercepts back and forth that were too sensitive to be entered into the Main Computer for security and compartmentalization reasons.

After finishing his tea and scones, S’Lone brushed the errant crumbs off his red collared uniform and made his way to his new posting.

Arriving at the hatch to the Intelligence Sanctum he entered in his access code.  “Woooosh,” the hatch opened on to a large “C”shaped room, the muted sounds of consoles busy at work kept time with the blinking of a symphony of lights.  12 large view screens each standing sentinel over an ongoing process collected and categorized salient inputs, providing rich data.

S’Lone scanned the room seeking the ranking Officer in Charge.  S’Lone’s eyes met with those of an Andorian Commander who nodded in acknowledgment. S’Lone walked up and offered his PADD containing his orders to the Commander who scanned them with a probative focus.  The Commander looked up, “Looks like you are my new Runner. Think you have the gumption to handle this duty?”

S’Lone was a bit condused by the question and opened his mouth to reply when the Andorian cut him off, “That was rhetorical Lieutenant. Take up your post,” nodding toward an empty console nearby with a sign that read, “Run, Forest, Run!”

“That's one thing that most Starfleet officers have in common,” S'Lone thought almost bumping into Cynndle who was making for the same entrance to the Main Cantina/Bar on SB-B. “Punctuality.”

“Greetings Lieutenant, glad you could make it,” S'Lone said clapping his hand onto Cynndie's shoulder.

Cynndle smiled, “Definitely needed a drink after that shift and misadventure. It still boggles my mind that it even happened though I am sure they will get to the bottom of it soon enough," he said as they walked into the bar. “Let's grab a seat, there is usually something near the back.”

The two grabbed a table near the back where it was quieter.

As they sat down Cynndle noticed a chance to S'Lone's uniform, “Looks like congratulations are in order.” he said and gestured towards S'Lone's collar.

S'Lone replied sheepishly running his fingers over the dual pips of a Full Lieutenant that newly adorned his collar, “Awe thanks Cynndle. It just happened.”

“The only thing that is different is that I seem to be getting more salutes from Ensigns,” added S'Lone.

“I can believe that they never quite know what to do with a lieutenant junior grade. I swear some do, others don't, some start, then stop." Cynndle said with a laugh, “Not that I overly care but the inconsistency definitely stops when you become a full lieutenant I hear.” He looked around for a minute, “What you after?”

A dark thought crossed S’Lone’s mind, the slow death of my hru'diranov (Grandfather). Pushing the image aside he responded, “A Tawny Port for now.  Mass domination of the Alpha Quadrant within 2 decades,” S’Lone gave a wry smile. “Baring that an Intel Slot posting after I’m done with my stint as a Deck Officer.”

“What about you,” S’lone asked.

Cynndle laughed at that, "Well guess that puts us in opposition then, my plans are on the same timeline." He paused for a moment and thought about what drink he was after. “I think I will get an Andoran whisky; my academy roommate got me hooked on it.” He turned just as a waiter walked past and placed the order for the port and whiskey before looking back to S'Lone. “Intel would be fascinating, I am a bit torn between chasing command because its command but Strategic Operations and fleet operations have always been an interest of mine," shrugging he leaned back, “Depends on what is open really otherwise I will push for Officer of the Watch.”

S'lone ordered a one ounce pour of the Taylor Fladgate 40 year old Tawny Post, looked Cynndle square in the eyes and said in a regretful voice which came out as almost a whisper, "The red collar of Command is a heavy burden," reflected S'Lone, “Having been a ship's Captain back when I ran a civilian transportation business running materials in conflict zones, I experienced the highs of eeking out a successful delivery against all odds and the lows of losing valued crewpersons.” S'Lone took a sip of his port, “I think red suits you. And the way you handled the stress of dealing with a malfunctioning Torpedo, is a mark of your character.”

“Thanks, appreciate that,” Cynndle said in response, “You settling in ok? I know some people were only happy with the number of refugees that were coming through, hope no one has given you any trouble for being a Romulan?”

S'Lone replied, "Being ½ Betazoid ½ Romulan I get mistaken for Vulcan a lot so I avoid much of the overt negativity, but I think Romulan hate crimes will continue to escalate.”

“Sadly, but here's to hoping that it won't be the case; know several other Romulans on the station, all good people,” Cynndle remarked. “Too many people and friends were lost in the collapse of the empire and in the events before. It is senseless for such behaviour to even take place.”

S’Lone lifted his glass, “To absent friends,” he toasted.

“To absent friends,” Cynndle responded raising his glass.

Together they drank a toast.

S’Lone tried to hide a stifled yawn, “I think I’ll hit the rack. Night Cynndle.” 

S’Lone’s feet pounded rhythmically into the carpeted hallway.  He took this route daily for his early morning runs. The course took him to the most outer ring of the mammoth Starbase; primarily residential quarters. Which at 0 dark 30 he rarely passed any living soul. He liked it that way; the quiet peace and solitude.

He rounded the halfway point of his run when he came upon a patch of fresh paint. In large red letters was painted “Khoi-udt Rihanh.”  He came to a halt.  It was if he had been punched in the gut. 

S’Lone tapped his combadge. =^= Lt tr’Khellian to the “Security Officer on Watch. =^=

Sonja groaned from the fatigue she was going on 16 hrs on duty not usually normal, but she had been dealing with tons of reports that the other Watch officers had seemingly neglected so she was tasked with getting them done. She heard the message on her combadge and replied “Lt Thompson here what do you need Lieutenant?”

S’Lone responded, =^=During the course of my morning run I happened upon a freshly painted bit of graffiti.  It read “Khoi-udt Rihanh” or “Drop Dead Romulans” Before I called a maintenance crew to repaint the bulkhead I just felt I should let you folks in Security know just in case there was a pattern to this sort of anti-Romulan sentiment.=^=

’Who runs this early in the morning.’ She said as she rubbed her temples “I will send someone to make a report of the incident. However can you tell me why you think this would have happened? As this is the first reports of Romulan graffiti.”

S’Lone replied, =^= It may have been directed at me. I take this route every day.  Or else it could have been directed to any number of Rihanh who have quarters in this area.=^=

Sonja began typing information for her report trying to get the base information needed for an investigation “Or it may be something completely unrelated regardless it is something we need look into. Can you come to the Security office when Alpha shift switches?” 

S’Lone responded, =^= Will do.  =^=

Sonja cut the comms and grabbed her coffee, which was the only thing keeping her alive as she opened the report and set it to the side to complete the other ones before Alpha shift switched. It would mean she would be done but in these cases she made sure she had all information before passing the investigation. 

S’Lone walked through the hatch leading to the Deck’s Security Office at precisely Alpha Shift end.  He looked around, identified Lt Thompson, walked over, and introduced himself, “S’Lone tr’Khellian.”

Sonja had been expecting the Officer, but to see them come in directly as the other shift changed showed a rare punctuality in junior officers. And she should know. “Ah thank you for coming. Would you mind giving me your report once more?” She said as she grabbed her PADD.

“Sure” S’Lone replied. I feel a bit embarrassed about taking your time.  I could have been some youth for all we know.  I was not trying to be alarmist. But just in case let me give the details for an official report.” S’Lone went over the salient details once again covering his encounter with the graffiti during his early morning run.

Sonja listened closely to the information adding all the pertinent details to her report. She hadn’t really heard of such actions occurring in the past, but as the station became more established rare events were going to occur. “Alright I think I have the majority of the information needed; however, I have to ask do you think this could have been solely regarded towards you? Such actions usually have a motive. Do you know anyone on the station who may have done this because of how they feel about you?”

S’Lone pondered Sonja’s questions for a moment. “No, I really don’t feel it was directed towards me personally. Plus I haven’t been on the Starbase for more than a couple of months. So my sparkling personality has not had the opportunity to raise anyone’s hackles.” S’Lone smiled playfully.

“I will be mindful though in the future of any sideways glances or threatening behavior,” S’Lone said as he absentmindedly brushed a bit of dust off his duty uniform. “It’s a relief to hear this is not a pattern. I tried accessing the monitors nearby but could not access the footage. Not high enough clearance for now I guess.”

Sonja shook her head “I do not recommend trying to open those monitors. We got an alert regarding that and I cleared it as I saw your name, but I have to address it. Regardless of rank if the clearance is not allowed don’t try and access the monitors.” She said before pausing for a moment “That being said I do believe for right now we have done all we can. If you have anything you want to discuss I am willing to do that.”

S’Lone nodded his head, “Understood. I am good. Let me know if I can be of assistance in any way. If that’s all, I’m gonna head to my next posting.  Best wishes and stay safe.”

As he left the Office S’Lone thought, “We have some dedicated and sharp folks at the station.  Starbase Bravo is in good hands.”

S’Lone shifted his weight from foot to foot in an effort to drain off some of his nervous energy.  He avoided Counselors.  It was all his unresolved family issues.  No it was seeing his ri’nanov (Mother) at his Academy Graduation ceremony.  Why did he not seek her out after the proceedings were concluded?

He inhaled deeply then let out a long breathe calming his emotions.  He was here because it was an item to be ticked off in his joining a new command to do list.  That’s it.

S’Lone touched the chime at the Counselors hatch.

From within the counselor’s office, a voice said, “Come.”

The hatch slid aside, revealing the source of the voice as Elegy Weld.  Standing behind one of the arm chairs in the comfortably furnished office, Elegy was plainly as tall as S’Lone, but his frame looked a bit more gaunt and gangly in a Starfleet uniform.  Elegy stepped out from behind the chair and he swept an arm to indicate the other chaises and sofas that were positioned around the office in an irregular pattern.  For all the sitting furniture, there was distinctly no desk.

“Please make yourself comfortable,” Elegy said. “I’m Lieutenant Elegy Weld, the Deputy Director of Psychiatry on Starbase Bravo. Before we begin, can I get you anything to drink?”

Moving towards one of the couches facing Elegy S’Lone replied, “No thank you, I’m good.” Settling onto the couch he passed the PADD he was carrying that contained his service record and background info to Elegy.“Thanks for making the time, Doctor.  I just needed a moment of your time to get your sign-off on my Clearance. It’s been a while since my last, err, session.”

With a smile behind his eyes, Elegy accepted the PADD that was proffered to him and he took a step back. Elegy settled himself into his favourite arm chair and he began to swipe through the data that had already been prepared on the PADD. “Hmm,” was all Elegy said at first. Without looking up, Elegy asked, “A sign-off, huh? Is that how it works?”

S’Lone kept any emotion off his face and realized that this might not go as easily as he first hoped. S’Lone deflected, “I would hate to take up your valuable time.”

Elegy waggled a finger at a line of data on the PADD. “I see your last counseling session was in your time as a cadet at Starfleet Academy,” Elegy said. He spoke slowly, plainly distracted by the next thing he was reading on the PADD. Elegy looked up at he met S’Lone’s eyes. “You had multiple discussions with your last counselor about fitting in with your peers. How do you feel about that lately?”

“Fitting in? Apart from some side glances from folks who are not fans of Romulans, pretty well,” S’Lone replied. “There are lots of folks with amped-up feelings. I tend to keep looking straight ahead and piloting forward when I hit turbulence. My time at Starfleet academy was complicated by the fact I was a 60 year old with 45 years of work history surrounded by 20 year olds with no life experience.”

Nodding gently, Elegy tapped at the PADD to access his own notes, rather than S’Lone’s medical records. Perhaps pointedly, Elegy asked, “How many friends do you have on Starbase Bravo?”

S’Lone pondered for a moment then smiled, “I pulled a duty assignment last week with a LT. Cynddle Oin’Sun. We bonded over a malfunctioning Quantum Torp.  We actually met for a drink after shift end yesterday.

“That’s a comrade in arms certainly.  Friendships take more time.”  

Nodding at that, Elegy remarked, “Sounds like a good start.”  After taking a breath, Elegy asked, “How are your routines aboard the starbase otherwise?  Are you sleeping well?”

S’Lone responded, “Full night’s rest. No issues there. In terms of routines, I try to run each day before my shift begins. My duties as Deck Officer are varied.  I am looking forward to a permanent duty posting in intel.  I am also a pretty decent chef who specializes in Molecular Gastronomy and uses ‘Cook ins’ as a conduit for bonding.”

“A cook-in sounds delightful if rustic,” Elegy said. Any subtle double-meaning to the word rustic was largely paved over by the enthusiasm in Elegy’s timbre. He tapped a quick note on his PADD and after he had done so, he made eye-contact with S’Lone again. “I’m not familiar with molecular gastronomy. What’s the last dish you’ve prepared?” Elegy asked.

“Let me think. Umm, S’Lone pondered. “Transparent ravioli. Basically round, thin edible film discs consisting of potato starch and soy lecithin in order to create transparent “ravioli.” Then filled with diced dried cherries and finely chopped walnuts topped with honey mead foam.”

S’Lone offered, “I will save you a spot when I put together my next cook-in?  It’s normally 5 small courses with matching drink pairings. All offerings are non replicated so it takes me a few months to wrangle the necessary ingredients. Would love to have you if you are game.”

Elegy replied, “I’m always game to try some transparent ravioli.”

“Unless there is something else, I have to see a Dockmaster about a new ship.” S’Lone concluded.

Nodding suddenly, Elegy rose to his feet and clapped his hands together.  “We can continue this conversation another time,” Elegy said.  “Good fortune with your new ship!”

They exchanged pleasantries with a promise to meet again at S’Lone’s next cool-in.

Sonja had not had a good morning, in fact it was up there as one of the worst. She had spilled coffee on herself as she prepared to leave. After doing this she quickly went in and changed looking at her chronometer she silently yelled at herself. She was slated for a meeting with Chief Vaughn and at this rate she wasn’t going to be there on time. Her hair was also a mess so she quickly managed it into a bun and tried again with her coffee this time succeeding.

She grabbed her PADD and quickly made her way to the Chiefs office making sure to not be stopped by anything. She arrived and straightened her uniform before activating the chime to the door. 

The summons was as gruff as usual, but when she walked in, Vaughn was sat at his desk and did not appear to look up from the screen on his console. “Thompson, I expect my officers not to look like they got dragged through a hedge backwards. Did you lose a fight with a donkey? Was a donkey rogue on the promenade?” he growled. Only then did he jab his screen to a locked state and leaned back to look her in the eye with his usual chilly glint.

Sonja stopped for a moment and looked at him with her usual chipper demeanour “Apologies, Sir. It wasn’t a good morning and I struggled to get dressed. I didn’t want to be late though so I tried to look presentable so I wasn’t late. So to answer your question no I didn’t have a fight with a donkey, more so a fight with myself.”

She again didn’t change from her regular attitude and waited to be allowed to sit down.

Vaughn grunted, and gave a curt gesture towards the opposite chair. “The moment you’re in the uniform, you represent the service. When you’re on this station, you represent Bravo. When you’re in these offices, you represent this department. Once we’re done here, you’re going to go tidy yourself the hell up. Understood”?”

Sonja nodded as she knew there was nothing else she could say or do, as Vaughn was quite clear and blunt, which was indeed his usual demeanor.

Another grunt. “Right. Thompson. Why’re you here?”

She collected herself “I am here to report the current status of Security on the Promenade. You had requested an update about how things have been. Honestly things have been rather calm at least on my shifts. I did have a run in with a drunk Cadet and a little run in with some upset people, but it was resolved rather quickly and efficiently. Things for the most part seem to be not only running efficiently, but the station crime numbers are down.” She said as she handed him the PADD with her report as he requested.

“Hm. We’ll monitor it. Never forget that all we’re recording are the crimes we’ve noticed – the crimes people are reporting,” Vaughn said gruffly. “This starbase isn’t a rough place, but to keep it safe, we have to have a strong relationship with the people who live here. Otherwise they don’t reach out to us for help. And all we have are numbers collected by people who don’t actually have a clue what’s going on. Still, this maybe gives us some breathing room for what’s next.”

Sonja agreed with the statement though she wasn’t quite sure if the crimes would go away completely, but she did know that part of her job made it easier to help control the crime on the promenade, though she wanted to help more. “I will do anything to help make sure those numbers stay low.” She said as she thought about the issue in her head.

“If you’re so keen, Thompson, then I’ve more responsibility for you.” Vaughn reached for a PADD and slid it across the desk towards her. “A new community outreach program. This station’s not been open for long, and between that and the disruption of the last six months, most of our population’s new. If crime’s down, then we’re going to use this space to improve relationships with our little neighbourhood, the Promenade, so when trouble does come up, people bring it to us, and fast. And I want you to take point on that for the precinct.”

Sonja looked over the information on the PADD and began to start checking through the information in her personal checklist. She nodded “I will do whatever is needed to help Sir. I would be happy to help in the program. I may need some personnel to help in the department, but only if they can be spared. If not I will make do with what I have.” She said as she tucked the PADD under her arm. 

“Not help.” Vaughn leaned back, arms folded across his chest. “This community on Bravo’s new. People have been here all of a year. It changes all of the time. There are hardly any starbases of this size in existence in the Federation, and all of them are in unique environments which impact the community makeup. So I want you to figure out what community engagement from the security department on this base, on this Promenade, is going to look like. Which means – you’re going to have to find out. Do that first – put together a proposal, give me a pitch, and then we talk personnel.” He shrugged. “Don’t forget crew are part of the community. They’re just not the most important voices, either.”

Sonja nodded as she now understood truly what the Commander was asking of her “Understood, is there anything else you need? If not I’m going to go and make myself look presentable before doing some preliminary checks and getting the information needed for that proposal.“

“Nothing else,” said Vaughn, gesturing for her to get up and go. It wasn’t until she was on her feet and heading to the door that he said, voice still its usual gravelly grumble, “Stuff like this looks good on your record, Thompson. It might not be the excitement you join Security for, but it’s the setup that leads to the payoff of really making a difference. Being good at this makes you a good officer.” For a moment it sounded almost like encouragement, or at least a reassurance that this new task mattered, but then Vaughn met her gaze with a flat expression. “So don’t screw it up.”

Sonja smiled back at the Commander before heading off to her quarters to freshen up as she had been ordered. She smiled maybe she was finally making some progress with the Commander…maybe.

Cynndle walked along deck 654 in Sector Lima-Violet towards the large cargo bay up ahead. As he walked he slowly scrolled through a PADD reviewing his orders. “Oh, the joy of the deck officer…”

Orders – Lt JG Oin’sun CO8928A

• Oversee review and inventory from Andorian Cargo vessel ‘Kusev’.
• Sector Lima-Violet – Deck 654 – Cargo bay LV4

Note: Shipment contains 30,000 vials of biomedical gel enroute to PSI Velorum for relief efforts. Shipment and cargo bay have been locked down since it was offloaded 6 hours ago. Cargo will be moved to USS Liverpool for final shipment in 12 hours.

Security Notice: Biomedical gel is a restricted substance; detailed review of cargo required. Notify security if there are any issues.

“Got to love inventory review,” he muttered but slowed his pace when he saw the security notice, “Hmm, well that makes it a bit more interesting.

Rounding the final corner towards the cargo bay he saw the closed hatch manned by an ensign in a yellow uniform. As he approached the door he nodded to the ensign, “Ensign, I trust everything is ok?”

The ensign stood up a bit straighter and nodded, “Yes, sir. The hatch was locked after the unloading team left.” The young Bolian paused for a moment before continuing, “I will need to check your clearance before you can enter sir. oh, I was also told that the rest of the inventory team will be here shortly.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Cynndle said as his identity and orders were confirmed. A moment later the door was unlocked and he entered the room. Upon entering the cargo bay Cynndle couldn’t help but sigh as he saw the large crates stacked neatly in three rows down the middle of the open space. As he started to make his way towards them the door behind him opened and two crewmen from logistics entered chatting happily amount themselves. Upon seeing Cynndle they stopped chatting and walked over. “We are here for the inventory,” said the most senior, a Petty Officer, as she looked down the rows of crates. “Shouldn’t take too long. Couple hours maybe depending on how detailed we have to be.”

“That’s good to hear. Should be pretty straightforward, it should all be the same in each crate. We have 30,000 vials of biomedical gel. Should be 500 per crate but as it is a restricted substance we will need to be very certain of the numbers we get. The inventory shows that it was checked prior to unloading here and it was all accounted for, I don’t think we will have any issues.” Cynndle responded. “Shall we get to it?”

The two crewmen nodded to him and pulled out their PADDs and tricorders to begin the inventory.

Four hours later Cynndle stood with the two crewmen and the young Bolian ensign as he shook his head. “How is one whole crate missing? Sixty were unloaded, we have logs showing that. The door was sealed,” he said as he began to pull up the security feed from the bay but when he tried the screen an error message flashed up. 

==ERROR, FILE CORRUPTED UNABLE TO RETRIEVE==

“Well that is not good,” Cynndle said as he tapped his combadge, “Lieutenant JG Oin’sun to Security, we have had a possible security breach in Cargo bay LV4 on deck 654; Sector Lima-Violet.” Turning to the crewmen and the ensign he sighed. “Well, this just got more complicated.”

Sonja was as always doing paperwork, which seemed to be her regular life now, but honestly, she had gotten so used to it she could be done with it fairly quick. The occasional call came in for her, but usually, it wasn’t something she had to directly report for. She had finished her reports and was taking a sip of water looking at the incoming request for clearance or transfers when she heard the call for Security. This was one of those things she did need to acknowledge, so she acknowledged she was en route and made her way there while grabbing three other Security officers on the shift.

She had learned the corridors over her time here and now had no issues getting from A to B and made her way to the Cargo Bay in no time. As the doors slid open she saw four people present conversing amongst themselves, until they saw the four Security officials appear. Sonja walked up to the Lieutenant and smiled “Hello, I am Lieutenant JG Sonja Thompson, What exactly is going on that you believe that a breach has occurred?” She asked motioning for the other three officers to examine the bay. 

Cynndle smiled at Sonya as she approached, “I’m Lieutenant JG Cynndle Oin’sun. We just completed an inventory of the crates of biomedical gel before they are moved onto the USS Liverpool. It looks like one is missing. We have been over it three times each and we are definitely short one crate and sixty were accounted for when they were offloaded 6 hours ago. I checked the security feed but the file was corrupted. Makes me think someone tampered with it.”

“The officer on watch said he heard nothing and the doors were sealed, so not surprised he heard nothing through them. Due to the nature of the contents, the loss of any of the vials is a possible security breach. Was hoping you would be able to lend some aid.” Cynndle continue with a shrug as he looked around the room; minor annoyance at the situation clearly visible on his face.

Sonja nodded as she jotted down notes of what she had just been informed of. She knew biomedical gel being lost was an issue, but if someone had tampered with Security footage that was worse. She knew to dig into that more she would need to be back in her office. “Can I see the manifest for the items?” She asked.

Cynndle nodded and held out his PADD, outlining the full manifest as well as the checks aboard the Kusev and during the unloading. “Sure thing.”

She took the manifest and began to look over the information seeing that the shipment was short. She looked back at the lieutenant “Doesn’t this cargo bay have access to the adjacent bay? If so is it possible that whomever took the crate did so through there?”

Frowning Cynndle glanced over at the large bay doors that lead to the adjacent bay. “It is possible, I didn’t check the other bays’ security feed but the door was sealed. Should have done that.” Stepping over to the console on the wall he quickly pulled up the logs for the other bay. “I think you may be onto something. There was activity in the bay 3 hours ago, there shouldn’t have been any. We can go check it out.” He said as he nodded towards the two crewmen.

Sonja nodded and looked back at the Security detail “Keep looking here I am going to head over with the Lieutenant and see what’s going on.” She got the customary nod and walked towards the other bay with the Lieutenant. They arrived to the doors where she input a Security lockdown on the bay and entered with Cynndle. “This should keep anyone from getting in here without authorization,” she said as they entered the empty bay. Upon entrance to the bay a slight smell of disinfectant was in the air. “Something doesn’t quite smell right here, wouldn’t you agree.” 

Cynndle looked around and inhaled deeply. “Agreed, there shouldn’t be any of that disinfectant smell in the air. Someone was trying to cover their tracks.” Glancing at the door panel behind him he frowned. “Does that look a little askew?” He stepped up to it and pulled out his tricorder and quickly scanned the panel. “Definite traces of a disinfectant here, they wiped it clean…” he said before pausing as he knelt down by the panel, “…maybe they didn’t clean inside though.” With that he slowly lifted the panel away, far easier than it should have to reveal a few scratch marks underneath. “You seeing anything else in the bay?”

Sonja had begun to inspect the bay looking for any signs of what had happened. She saw more scratch marks and a distinct crumb on the floor. “They didn’t clean too well here.” She responded and waved Cynndle over to her. She pointed to the evidence, which began to move “Uhh am I seeing things or is that moving?” She said as she observed it closer seeing it was a worm “Why is there a worm in the shuttle bay?” She said out loud.

He turned to look back at Sonja as she mentioned the work. “Sorry what? There definitely shouldn’t be anything like that in here,” he said just as the tricorder beeped and he looked down at it. “Bingo. I have Ferengi DNA here; someone got sloppy.” He stood and moved over to Sonja and held the tricorder out so she could read the results of the scan as he peered down at the worm. “This is odd.”

Sonja thought for a moment “Not at all, this is a regular Ferengi issue. They want anything that will bring them profit and this station is loaded with that. I will admit they have never been quite so bold to actually try it though. I don’t want to do it, but we need to lock down this section of the station. At least until we can determine where the Ferengi’s went.”

Cynndle grunted as he poked at the worm with his foot, “I agree, the theft of the gel is a serious issue.” He paused for a moment while he looked around then down at his tricorder. “There do not appear to be any residual transporter signatures and from the bay logs, no one has docked here. They likely carried it out so a lockdown is definitely required. Best you call in the lockdown. What do you need from me?”

She looked at her PADD and immediately sent in the message for a lockdown making sure the appropriate staff was notified and other security officers were notified. She looked back at Cynndle “You will be here to help with the crate if it is found. Stick with me, but know this is a classified investigation and you will be required to write a report. Is that understood?”

Cynndle smiled, “I would expect nothing less and yes, I want that crate found and won’t leave it to anyone else.” He looked around the cargo bay again with a quizzical expression. “From what I can see the only other exit is the main door to the corridor. The crate could be carried but not easily so I suspect they had a cart with them; allowing them to disguise it also. We may be able to pinpoint them with an internal sensor sweep, what do you think?”

Sonja thought for a moment, especially in the way of Ferengi. “I think a sensor sweep would be prudent, but I can’t say that the Ferengi covered their tracks in any way either.” She went to the nearest console “Computer initiate internal sensor sweep for any Ferengi signatures.” The chime of the computer acknowledged the order as it began to run the sweep.  

She looked over at Cynndle “Can you see if any deck officers have seen or heard of any Ferengi in the vicinity of the station?”

Cynndle nodded and stepped aside before tapping his combadge reaching out to his CO. After a quick conversation and a short delay he turned to Sonja, “A Ferengi salvage ship arrived last night with some engine trouble. And get this, they have docked only a few decks away.”

Sonja nodded and began to do an assessment of the information trying to determine the best action to take. She didn’t want to make a huge issue or involve too many people. She had enough ability in her position to take care of most issues she encountered. She messaged the security for the starship control. She explained the situation and asked for the ship to be silently secured. “I think it’s time for us to end this.”

A wicked grin crossed Cynndle’s face, “On that, I couldn’t agree more. Shall we go speak to some enterprising Ferengi?”

Sonja smiled and nodded leaving the bay and snapping her fingers making the security officers begin to follow her in formation. “Let’s go see if the Ferengi will admit to their crimes shall we?”

Cynndle and Sonja stepped off the turbolift onto deck 657 with the rest of the security team. “The birth for their ship should be 50 meters that way,” he said gesturing to their right after he double-checked his PADD. Without waiting he began to walk in that direction. After a few moments, they arrived at a large airlock door leading to one of the civilian hangers. He quickly checked that it was the right hanger and the information panel confirmed that the hanger was currently in use by ‘Risha’ an independent Ferenji cargo vessel. He glanced back at Sonja and nodded. “Ladies first.”

Sonja nodded before preceding into the hanger. It was quite clean in fact it smelled like it had been freshly disinfected, which seemed a bit suspicious. She saw two Ferengi standing nearby looking back and quickly making their way towards her “What do you want huuumaaan? We have permission to be here.” The one replied snarkily.

Sonja stopped and looked at them “Hello to you as well I am Lieutenant Sonja Thompson, security in the station and we have reason to believe you have absconded with Federation property. As such evidence has been mounted we will be grounding your ship and doing a full inspection of the ship and its cargo…unless you have something you want to admit.” She said slyly.

”You have no right to search our ship huuumaaaan.” The Ferengi snapped back.

”Actually I do.” She said as the Security team surrounded the ship. She looked at Cynndle “Anything you would like to add?”

Cynndle looked on with a smile, “Can’t say I do Lieutenant. Beyond the fact that theft of Federation property is a very serious offence, especially if it is a restricted substance. The punishment is quite severe.” He watched the two Ferengi glance back and forth at each other for a moment. It was obvious they were hiding something; ‘They must be new at this, always thought Ferengi would keep a cooler head,’ he thought to himself. Glancing back at Sonja he nodded, “Shall we?” As he began to walk towards the ship.

Sonja nodded and proceeded up the ship ramp at the protest of the Ferengi. As they entered the smell of antiseptic hit her nose strongly. She looked over at Cynndle and gave a sarcastic glance. They began to scan the ship for the signature they were looking for. After some tweaking of the scanner, they picked up a signature. Sonja signalled for Cynndle to look while she covered him in case the Ferengi tried anything.

Cynndle nodded to Sonja and peered into a small cargo bay. After scanning the room and confirming there was no one in it and no noticeable booby traps he stepped in. He pulled out his tricorder and quickly got a reading for the biomedical gel. After moving a couple of grates he found a loose grate which was easily removed revealing the crate of gel that was missing. “Found it, they hid it under the floor. And not that well,” he called back, “Going to need a hand lifting it out. But first, shall we go arrest those two? Who knows what else they may have hidden in here, think we may need a detailed sweep of this ship.”

Sonja nodded at the remark and headed back out to the exterior of the ship where the expressions of the Ferengi showed a state of worry. “Under the authority of the Starfleet and this station you’re being placed under arrest for the theft of Starfleet supplies and the fact that you lied to Starfleet officials.” She signalled the Security team to apprehend them, which to her surprise they did not fight. She looked back at Cynndle as the team left the hangar. 

“I think I can let you take care of it from here. If you find anything else that needs to be reported just let me know.” She smiled “It has been a pleasure working with you and I hope to do so again very soon.”

Cynndle smiled, “It was a pleasure, Lieutenant Thompson. Hopefully, next time we won’t have to be tracking down stolen equipment though I think we worked well together. Catch you around.”

The last time Heriah stood outside Elegy’s door, battling with herself on whether to enter or not, it was Heriah who wanted to push onward and Rex who wanted to turn away. This time, Heriah was wringing her hands nearly pleading to take a step back, another step back, and a few more steps all the way back to her quarters. And it was Rex with the logical decision to enter and get this over with. Besides, Rex’s logic included…

’What did Rikata the Mole share with Elegy? That is what we need to know. Be honest with this guy. He may be an unjoined lowlife but he is not dumb and is not one to play games with the truth with.’

And it was with a shaky step that Heriah moved forward, into proximity of the door to Elegy’s office. It opened and there came no other option for her save for diving on it.

“Lieutenant,” she said as she entered the office. “May I speak with you…in private…for a few moments?”

Draped over the chaise lounge, Elegy Weld snapped his gaze in Heriah’s direction.  His eyes widened at her in a momentary flash of embarrassment, as his mouth was full with a slice of galzak.  He bit off as much as he could chew and he stowed the rest of the slice back on its plate on an end table.  Chewing as quickly as he could, Elegy swung his legs off the furniture and swiveled himself into an upright posture.  Then he swallowed.

Nodding tightly, Elegy replied, “Yes, of course, Heriah.  Please make yourself comfortable.”

“I do not mean,” Heriah started as she took a few steps inside, “to be interrupting you while you eat. I can come back later.” She finished speaking deeper inside his office.

Elegy shook his head at her offer and he looked her right in the eyes.

“No, please make yourself comfortable,” Elegy said.  His emphasis insisted this was important to him.  Elegy quipped, “If I needed complete privacy every time I was eating, I’d spend ninety percent of my life all alone.”

Heriah took the invitation to stay and did so. And, as she lowered herself into a chair, “I…uh…”

’You promised your boyfriend…’

“…I promise to be as transparent as I can. You were transparent with me, so…it is only fair. I…have been having episodes of symbiontambulism. That’s sleep-walking with an awake and conscious symbiont. In effect, Rex was in control of my body.” Heriah held herself defensively, wrapped her arms around her torso.

Elegy shifted his weight, leaning forward on his perch.  He rest his palms on the seat of his chaise, keeping his hands down in a non-threatening posture.  After nodding at Heriah’s words, Elegy took a breath through his nose.

“Doctor Mol suggested something like this could happen, in your patient notes,” Elegy said tentatively.  Perhaps he was over-stepping, perhaps not.  Their relationship had always been blurred with Heriah as Elegy’s sometimes patient, sometimes co-worker, sometimes subordinate, sometimes counseling mentee…  “Instances of talking to your symbiont as a separate consciousness, vivid nightmares, violent acts.”  –Elegy shook his head– “I had no idea it had gone this far.”

Elegy took another breath.  “Can I get you something to drink?  We have a lot to talk about.”

Strolling into Downtime, Horin made his way to the bar and called for the bartender to get him a beer. “Thanks, Skal,” He said after the Tellarite gave him his drink. Turning around to see where he could grab a seat, Horin realised that idea might be a bit presumptuous, especially at how busy it was in the bar. There were several large crowds dotted around the bar, but eventually, he noticed a small table occupied by a single person. Clutching his drink to his chest, Horin walked over and grabbed the attention of the cadet that was sitting there.

“Is this seat taken?” Horin asked with a friendly grin. 

Erik had been distracted by the din of the crowd, it was one of the things he liked best about Downtime. After a long day of working with people, treating ailments and working on holo-patients he was often burnt out. Hearing a voice cut through the background he looked up from his drink, and saw a cadet with a drink in hand. 

“Sure grab a chair,” Ferrun grinned back, sitting upright so he wasn’t stooped over the table. 

Keeping his charming smile on as he sat down, Horin extended his hand towards the human cadet, “Thanks, I’m Tate Horin,” He mentioned. 

“I thought you looked familiar. Erik Ferrun. It’s nice to meet another cadet, there haven’t been many come through here so far. I am just getting my bearings on Bravo, so maybe this place doesn’t appeal to them?” Erik asked as he looked around and noticed mostly older NCO’s and officers. He had to admit the place was stark, sparse and utilitarian; though he personally liked that, it made him think of a surgical suite in a cold antiseptic way. He shrugged and figured he’d learn the hangouts of every cadet here.

“Nice to meet you,” Horin said as they shook hands, “How long have you been posted to Bravo?” He asked as he took a swig of his bottle.

“No, I just got here with the last supply run. I had put in for Bravo a couple of times at Starfleet Academy and hardly believed it when the transfer came through. What about you Horin? Have you been posted here long? I am hoping the exciting rumors I’ve heard whispered around the campus in San Francisco are true. After all, real experience trumps simulations every time,” Erik said as he took a drink from his tumbler, the synthale rich and smooth. 

“Well, you are in for a treat!” Horin replied, still smiling as he took a sip from his drink, “I’ve been on Bravo for about nine months now and I’ve loved it. Don’t get me wrong the officers work you hard, but it’s quite the education. What are you specialising in?”

Erik nodded as Horin basically confirmed something he’d heard often on his way to the Station. The starship had afforded him plenty of access to keep his studies sharp, with the expectation he would be hitting the durasteel running. “I had been warned about that coming over, that the instructors were tough. Though I’ve always heard that Bravo Squadron Cadets have their pick of assignments, and if running ragged gets me to a ship of the line or starbase sooner it will be worth it. And I’ve been working towards my Medical speciality. It’s a longer path, but I know there’s a lot of need for ship medical crew,” Erik replied.

“Medical? Nice, the station’s chief medical officer, Doctor Delacour, is tough to impress but she knows her stuff. Saying that, with a station this size, you’re probably assigned to one of the other attending physicians.” Horin said. “How much of the station have you seen so far?”

”I met her only briefly to be honest. Although some of her work and methods are of course well studied in the library, so any chance to work with her or observe a surgery she does will be amazing,” Erik said as he listened to the other cadet. Laughing he shook his head gently, ”To be honest I’ve been the stereotypical med student. If I’m not on duty, I’ve been trying to stay around medbay to observe and be nearby if someone needs something. Even if it’s just treating fatigue, burns or the other more routine things; we have so many species on the station that it’s still a chance to learn and practice. So other than medbay, the mess or here, I’ve only seen my bunk.”

”What’s your speciality? I haven’t seen you around before, so they must be working you hard in other areas. And is there a cadet hideaway I don’t know about yet, I haven’t enjoyed too many nights off, but Downtime doesn’t seem like it’s the favourite spot,” Erik asked Horin, looking around at the stark but crowded bar.

“I’m majoring in astrophysics while having a minor in aerospace engineering. At the moment, I’m on rotation with the station’s starfighter division, so I’ve been kept busy in helping them make one of the fighters down there a bit cooler!”  Horin replied with a proud expression, “But if you want a good nightlife then I’m your man. There’s a new club that most of the cadets have been going to. It’s called Passion and has several floors, all of which play different types of music to get everyone moving and their drinks rival the Quark’s Bar franchise. There’s a group of us going tomorrow night, if you fancy joining us?”

Erik whistled softly when he heard Horin explain his speciality. He knew the basics of ship design, all Cadets had to have minimal working knowledge, but he’d never considered trying to learn the design and control aspect of them. He was more at home with organic systems. “Starfighters hey. Do you ever take them out to fly or are you more of the mechanically inclined? I have to admit I think anyone who can take on the inner workings of these is a genius,” Erik said as he gestured to the base around them.  

As he heard more about the bar, he had to admit it sounded perfect. He knew all work and no play drastically reduced his bedside manner, and that had been one of the reasons he’d come to Bravo Squadron. To rub shoulders and learn with the best, and the idea of some music and good drinks sounded ideal. “Count me in, I don’t have duty until later the next day anyways, so I can always put down the books for a night. Give my eyes a break, and meet some of the squadron. Anyone in particular to keep an eye out for? There’s always a few mischief makers in any group,” he chuckled, wondering just how many cadets were planning to hit the bar. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t even sure how many attended the Academy here.

Horin chuckled, “Nah, they’re all as bad as each other!” He answered as he offered to get them another round of drinks. “Let me tell you about the time we all crashed a runabout and ended up having to deal with a bunch of Romulan Tal Shiar undercover agents!”

“I don’t know that I’ve been drinking the right kind of ale for that story to be believable. Although if you want to pull the new guys leg, I’ll happily listen and enjoy a round,” Erik said with a wave and a smile at the other cadet. He waited for Hortin to order another round from the bar, finishing his first drink. 

When the other man sat back down, he leaned forward, his eyes bright with interest, “So you were about to tell me about a roundabout full of cadets, and Tal Shiar operatives. I’m assuming this story is going to be thirsty work, so next is one me,” Erik said good naturedly, wondering exactly what sort of tale he was in for. 

It was another assignment; however, this was different. She considered this her first actual assignment. This would be the one that put her out in the field, away from Earth, away from her family, and away from the memories of Jason. She looked out the window as Starbase Bravo came into view. Her future became apparent as the shuttle continued on its path; the speck on the horizon had grown into something massive.

The fear of that first meeting, initial interactions, and getting lost suddenly hit her like a brick. Earth provided a certain comfort and dependability that life on a Stardock wouldn’t. She nearly jumped out of her skin when the pilot announced their arrival. What had been a speck was the only thing visible through her window. She let out a whistle; her eyes were a dead giveaway to her feelings. 

“First time on a Stardock, Lieutenant,” she heard a voice from behind her. 

“Is it that obvious?” Hunter didn’t turn to look at the voice. 

“Everyone, well, those who are green get that look,” the pilot came up from behind, standing next to the Doctor. “Don’t worry, soon this will seem like home.” 

Hunter cocked her head to the side, “my home was never this big, and I have a big family.” 

The older pilot laughed, “come on, Doctor,” he gestured to the door.   The computer took care of the final arrival preparation, and soon Hunter was standing in the doorway looking out at a relatively large open visitor arrival center. 

In the distance, she could see Security Officer and various Administrative personnel; it reminded her of a giant customs processing center. She smirked; of course, it did. A station this large had to take security seriously. Hunter felt a hand on her shoulder. 

“Welcome to Starbase Bravo, Doctor,” the pilot smiled, “now go; Security doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” 

“Thank you for a pleasant trip,” she nodded as she took one step onto the deck plating below. Taking a deep breath, Hunter plastered on a smile, “keep it together,” she told herself. 

Handing a padd to the nearby Security Officer, “Doctor Hunter Callaghan reporting as ordered.” She forced a smile to hide the nerves. The Security Officer took the padd and asked her a few questions. She was too busy checking out the station to remember what he asked. She replied with a yes, and nodded.

The Security Officer looked at the Doctor, “excuse me, Lieutenant,” he snapped his fingers to get her attention. “You wanna tell me when you carried on an illegal item?”  He smiled. 

“Oh shoot, sorry,” Hunter blushed, “I was just….”  She motioned to the station, “…looking around.”

“Happens to many of the new arrivals,” the Security Officer replied, “but I have a long line to get through, so if we could sightsee later and get through these questions.” 

“My apologies,” Hunter smiled as she nodded, pressing her thumb to the offered padd. “This is going to be very interesting.”  She listened as the Officer gave her instructions and told her where to report next, but she wasn’t interested. Her first stop was her quarters, then Promenade. 

Cynndle stepped out of his commander’s office at the end of his shift with a smile on his face. In his hand, he carried a small box containing his new pip which he held tight before sliding it into his pocket. As he wandered down the corridor he tried not to show his excitement at being made a full lieutenant.

A few minutes later he stepped out on the promenade and looked around, “Definitely need to get a drink for this.” he said out loud as a thought struck him. He tapped his combadge, “Cynndle to Lihran; you free?”

Lihran was currently in the gym, running on a treadmill. Cyn’s voice blasted suddenly from his commbadge and startled him. He stepped off the treadmill before he went flying off and shut down the machine. He sounded out of breath as he tapped his badge to reply, “Lihran here. I am! Did something break again?” He chuckled.

Cynndle laughed at Lihran’s response. “Not today. Just wanted to know if you were free, could use a drink if you are up for it?”

Lihran grinned to himself at that, “Sure, I’m off today. Where did you want to meet up?” He stepped over to grab his gym bag and make his way out of the fitness facility.

“Downtime, say 30 minutes?” Cynndle responded.

“Sounds good to me,” replied Lihran, “I’ll see you there.” He killed the line and hurried to change and run through a sonic shower before joining Cynndle

Cynndle sitting at a table in the corner with a small glass of Andorian whiskey sitting in front of him. He was absently fiddling with his new pip in his hands as he waited for Lihrain to arrive. He was excited but he now felt pressure to actually pick his speciality now. On the Dawn, it had been one thing he didn’t have to worry about too much but Bravo offered so many other opportunities that he hadn’t even considered. He could actually move into Strategic operations like he specialized in during his time at the academy or push for command and stay a deck officer maybe…not to mention all the other possibilities. 

Lihran approached Cynndle with a glass of Earth whiskey himself. Lihran was wearing civilian clothes far more frequently; as the Romulan was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He dropped down to sit across from the other man, “What’s that? A new shiny?”

“Yep,” Cynndle said as he stopped rolling the pip between his fingers. “Just got it before I called you; thought it had been a while and best to celebrate with a friend right? Guess I should actually put this thing on, eh?” He quickly applied the new pip to his collar and smiled. “Now I actually have to do work, cannot skate by anymore,” he said wth a laugh. “How are things?”

Lihran smiled widely at that, lifting his glass towards Cynndle, “A good idea at that!” He emitted a snort, “I’m actually jealous of you. Being able to actually work. He huffed a sigh, ”I’m on minimal duties till I get this sorted.” He tapped his forehead.

“I get that. Any idea how much longer? I can only imagine the frustration.” Cynndle said as he look a small-tasting sip of his whiskey.

Lihran sighed and shrugged, “Not a clue. I’ve got… 80 or so years to sort out. At least. The whole… seeing my ex again thing did not help. At least the counselor is cute. What’s new with you? Other than a shiny new pip?”

Cynndle laughed, “A cute counsellor always helps things and I can only imagine having 80 or so years to sort out. Hell, that is many many more than I have to even think on. As for new for me, cannot say too much really. I did reshift out of operations into command,” he said and gestured to his red shirt, “It is a nice change of pace, had a torpedo scare when I was overseeing the ordinance shipment but other than that, lots of this and that really. Its been keeping me on my toes.”

Lihran arched a brow, “A torpedo scare? Now you realise you do have to explain that and how you managed that.” He sipped his whiskey, both concerned and amused at the same time.

“Ah, fair enough,” Cynndle said with a laugh. “Was assigned to oversee the offloading of torpedos with the new deck officer, Lieutenant S’Lone, a Romulan. Was going well until we heard one ticking…” Cynndle continued to recount the events that had transpired before taking a long sip of his whiskey and shrugging. “Was closer, closer than I would have liked. I need to follow up with the ordnance officer to see if they found anything. Was odd.” 

Lihran took a sip of his whiskey, nearly choking on it as Cyn recounts the story. “For the love of… No kidding! That’s terrifying.” He gave a shudder at the thought, “Not what we mean by having a blast at your new postition.” He lifted a brow pointedly. He leaned forward, lowering his voice, “Is foul play suspected?”

Cynndle shrugged, “Honestly, I have no idea. If it was I am sure it will be gotten to the bottom of in no time.” He leaned back and took another sip before he grinned. “Nothing on Bravo is ever straight forward is it?”

Lihran snorted a little, “That’s quite true, my friend. I hope it is sorted out. That could have been truly devastating if you were not on your toes.” He sighed and leaned back, dark thoughts of losing yet another friend crossed his mind. Pain visibly crossed his face for a moment. He dismissed the thoughts with a faint shake of his head and a slight smile before going back to his usual cheery self, “Surely that can’t be the only exciting, new thing?”

Cynndle laughed, “What can I say, I live a rather boring life outside of work. Though I am meant to be doing a shuttle run, well runabout run, to Regulus V in a month. They have requested some operations and engineering training. You interested?”

Lihran arched a brow at that, “That is interesting, not gunna lie. What kind of engineering training? Ah, doesn’t matter, regardless, I am interested, yes! I could do with an adventure.” He chuckled softly.

Cynndle shrugged, “The basics I think really. Starfleet is setting up a small training facility. Honestly, I don’t have much details yet. Just that I need to take a runabout there for a couple of days and to select a few others. I can pass on the additional information when I get it if you want?”

Lihran smiled and nodded, “That would be great! Been doing this Engineering thing for… over a century now I think. Pretty sure I can teach it or help set something up.” He chuckled softly.

Cynndle laughed, “God, I forget how much older you are than I am at times. I think this could get a good little getaway. Been too long since I was on a ship!”

Lihran grinned at that, “Just wait till my grays start coming in more.” He was already starting to get a few gray hairs coming through, “I could do with a little vacation adventure thing…” He groaned as his commbadge chirp, calling Lihran for an emergency repair, “I am afraid I need to run, Cyn. Great catching up with you!” He smiled warmly and tossed off the rest of his drink as he stood up. He lifted his hand and waved, turning to head out quickly.

Cynndle nodded, “Was great to catch up. I will keep you updated on things. See you around.”

Luke exhaled slowly as the shuttle en-route to Starbase Bravo entered warp. Taking a cursory glance at the padd in his hand he mentally committed the message from his parents to memory. In a matter of hours he would be light-years from home. Not one to normally get too rattled, his nerves were a bit tightly strung. His first official posting was waiting.

Closing his eyes to get some rest while traveling, it felt like minutes had passed when the voice of the pilot interrupted announcing they would soon be dropping out of Warp as they entered Starbase Bravo space. Straightening his uniform and flattening his hair, he noticed a pending message notification.

This was the message he had been waiting for.

‘Ensign Daniels, congratulations on your posting to Starbase Bravo. Upon arrival please report to a deck officer so we can log your arrival in the official logs. They will direct you to your department and issue any additional instructions at that time’.

Changing a glance through the shuttles viewport he was once again stunned by the sheer magnitude of the station and Mellstoxx-III welcoming him to his new phone. Although he had spent four years planetside he never grew tired of the view and presence of the station.

After what felt like an eternity, the shuttle finally touched down in the arrivals docking bay. After getting clearance to depart, Luke joined his fellow new arrivals to get processed through and receive their orders.

Approaching the nearest Deck Officer, Luke respectfully introduced himself.

“Ensign Lukas Daniels reporting for duty, sir.”

“Welcome aboard Starbase Bravo, Ensign.” The deck officer responded. “Your arrival has been noted in the station log.”

Tapping a few commands into his padd, the deck officer continued.

“I have outlined your accommodation and various recreation areas on your padd. You will need to report to Sector Lima-Violet at 0600 tomorrow.”

Luke briefly inclined his head in acknowledgement as the deck officer continued.

“Please also report to security screening and get yourself situated. I wish you all the best with your tour of duty on our own slice of paradise.”

“Thank you sir.” Luke saluted before taking a step back and making for security screening as quickly as possible. Nobody liked to be kept waiting.

His new adventure was starting now and he was eager to make his mark and do his part. 

Joshua looked out into the vastness of space; Starbase Bravo loomed in the distance. As the ship moved closer, the Starbase significantly grew in size. Joshua’s eyes grew equally big, “Oh wow…”

“First time on the base?” A voice came from behind him.

“My first time anywhere. I mean, for Starfleet. It’s my first assignment.” Joshua readjusted the plant he was holding under his arm.

“You landed a good one,” the man said with a chuckle. “I’ve only visited a few times, but it never fails to impress me every time.” The man turned to Joshua, “I didn’t introduce myself. Lieutenant Marco Jacobsen,” the man stuck out his hand.

Joshua shifted the plant container to his other arm. He shook the proffered hand, “Dr. Joshua Bryant.”

“Medical?”

“Botany.”

Lieutenant Jacobsen smiled, “The plant makes more sense now. What’s its name?”

“Aurous carnivorous. It’s the pride of my collection.”

He knelt to take a closer look at the container. “I can see why, with golden-flecked leaves like that. Did you say carnivorous? As in it eats meat?”

“Bugs, worms mostly. It makes a great pest killer. I’d give you a better look, but its environment has be to strictly controlled until it can adjust to its surroundings.”

Jacobsen put up his hands, “That’s all right. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for your plant’s death.”

A chime rang out throughout the ship, “Final docking will begin in 5 minutes.”

“That’s my cue. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Doctor.” Jacobsen walked away, tapping his commbadge as he walked. Joshua didn’t catch the entire conversation, but something about setting up meetings to help with reactors. Joshua frowned, hopefully, there won’t be power issues.

He stared out the window and watched as the final docking was completed. A chime sounded overhead, followed by an announcement of the ship’s docking and how to disembark.

Joshua checked his PADD, “Let’s see, Sector Kilo-Indigo for my quarters and… also a science lab. That’s convenient.” He readjusted his grip on the plant container and made his way to the docking port.

After processing through security screening, Lukas consulted his padd to determine his nearest turbolift. Anxious to settle into his quarters and then explore the station for a bit, so as to not appear to be running around like a headless chicken when reporting for his first assignment.

First on the agenda was a message home, unpacking some personal effects, finding the best cup of coffee, and maybe checking out the arboretum he had seen noted on the station’s schematics.

Like most junior officers, his quarters were relatively spartan, yet still comfortable. Taking a seat at the desk in the corner of the room he activated the personal terminal.

‘Hi, Mum and dad. This is it. I’ve finally arrived on Starbase Bravo with my duties officially starting tomorrow. I won’t lie but I will miss you both and I wanted to say thank you for your support and for pushing me to be part of something big. I know no matter where I go, what I do where I end up, I know I have your unconditional love and support. I better stop now before I start to cry a bit. Love to you both.’

With his message sent, Luke took a moment to dry his eyes and splash some water on his face before heading to the upper levels. Exiting his quarters he reentered the turbolift that bought him to his quarters.

“Sector Bravo-Orange, Arboretum.”

With a soft his as the doors slid shut, he was comforted by the low hum as the turbolift sped him to his requested destination.

As the doors slid open again, a smile took over Luke’s face as he caught sight of a slice of nature in space. This could soon become a favourite place of his during his downtime, as long as he didn’t give in and try to climb some of the greenery. Shaking his head slightly he tried to school his features into something less like a fish out of water.

After taking it all in, coffee was next on his hit list. What better way to introduce himself to his fellow junior officers and get his bearings a bit better. Looking around he saw he wasn’t the only one strolling around the arboretum. He caught sight of a fellow Ensign also enjoying nature. 

Nilah was slowly walking around the walking trails, enjoying sights that she enjoyed seeing when she went on her daily walks. She noticed that someone else had entered, not seeing him before she figured he was someone new. Which wasn’t all that uncommon here on the starbase as the new crew would come and go all the time. Walking up to him she smiled, “Hello you must be new here?” She asked with a smile.

“Got that overwhelmed look about me do I?” Luke responded in kind. 

“Forgive my terrible manners?” he continued. “Ensign Lukas Daniels, Junior Operations Officer. Although my friends call me Luke.” he finished offering his hand to shake.

She chuckled, “no I just figured you were new since I haven’t seen you before.” She replied with a smile, “I am Ensign Nilah Virahl, Engineering Officer though I work in the shipyards.” She replied as she shook his hand, “I usually come here after my shift to unwind.” She added.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Luke responded after releasing his grip. “I hope I’m not intruding on your downtime.”

Luke had known from his academy days that unwind time between crew members could vary greatly between wanting to be left alone to unpack the day right through to a social drink or holodeck session. Choices he both respected and understood. Time to yourself can be a bit of a precious commodity with the sheer amount of crew members and civilian contingent on board.

“I’d be grateful for the company for a short while as I get the feel of the place if it’s not an imposition of course,” Luke added with a small smile.

“I don’t mind, always enjoy the company and making new friends.” She replied, “I will be happy to show you around as well, I know this station can be overwhelming sometimes. I know it took me a while to get used to it,” she added.

“Thank you.” Luke nodded. “I’ll probably need all the help I can manage for the first wee while.” Falling into step beside Nilah as they resumed walking along the trail. Trusting Nilah knew where they were going, Luke broke the comfortable silence. 

”Have you been on the station long?” he enquired to what may be a new friend. “Not that I’m asking for your papers or anything.” He finished with a hint of laughter in his tone.

She thought there for a moment as they walked down the path, “almost a year though sometimes it feels longer than that.” She said as she chuckled, “I still sometimes get lost.” She added as they made their way out of the Arboretum and made their way down the corridor. “First stop my favorite place, the promenade. ” She said with a smile.

“I am completely on board with that idea,” Luke replied with a smile. “Get a feel for the best eateries and coffee on the station, when replicated options just don’t cut it.” This chance meeting was really getting Luke on the right foot and he wasn’t feeling as out of depth as he was when he first arrived. 

Surely the commercial sectors on a station this size would be a sight to see.

As they arrived she began to show him the different shops which were just about anything you could possibly think of. There were restaurants of different types as well as coffee shops that were great places to sit back and relax, enjoying a cup of coffee. “Care for a cup of coffee? The Brew is a great coffee shop that I tend to visit quite frequently,” she said with a smile.

“Coffee would be fantastic. It’s been a long day and a particularly early start” Luke returned the smile as they made their way. “I must say I feel fortunate to have bumped into you.”

Keeping an eye on the path they were taking, he also kept an eye out for the different shops on offer. Perhaps a return trip was in order at the end of his first ship. A settling-in gift to himself and perhaps a little something for him to send home.

She smiled as they continued down the promenade towards the Brew, once arriving they both took their seats and ordered. They began to spend some time chatting amongst themselves as it was nice to just take a break, to get a fresh start once returning. Nilah enjoyed making friends that she could spend time with off-duty or even work with while on duty. 

Dechraib shifted between the small stove where he was cooking something the humans called Tomato soup, something he had to admit he really liked, and a small PADD on the tabletop beside him. Picking up the PADD he reviewed the list of ingredients he pulled together to make something that resembled stewed Hlai’vnau from the Rel’enak region. He frowned as he looked over it. There were so many things that had been lost when Romulus was destroyed that they could never get back but this random task from the Starfleet counsellor had focused his mind to a degree he had not expected. The thought of being able to bring back such a traditional dish from a region that many Romulans missed deeply was a true pleasure. 

“Some of these are easy to find, Sweet Peppers from Earth should be an easy substitute,” he muttered to himself. Their Romulan equivalent should be common enough on any number of planets but not on the Bravo it seemed, well not until the seeds he planted grew. As he reviewed the list he lingered over the Hlai; “That will be the tricky one…” He had tried the Vulcan fowl that a restaurant on the station used for a similar dish and he had to admit it was good but the texture was off. “Maybe that Trill sabre beast?” he said aloud as he reached down and touched the communication setting and began to record a message on the PADD.

“Counsellor Weld? This is Dechraib. I think I have a list of ingredients. Do you want to meet?” Dechraib said and hit send.

At the appointed time, in between a couple of patient appointments, Elegy Weld strode into the makeshift kitchen.  The aroma of a tomato soup still lingered in the air.  “Jolan tru, Dechraib,” Elegy said, as he locked eyes with the Romulan chef.  “How’re you holding up today?” Elegy asked.  His words acknowledged the displaced refugee’s situation, but his tone was entirely hopeful.

“As best as can be Counsellor, thank you for asking,” Dechraib said with a nod. “I have the list of ingredients and most are readily available but there are a few, the obvious ones are the Hlai, the Romulan peppers, and several spices. I have ideas for a few of the replacements but if I had a Starfleet Counsellor with me I am sure I could sort them a lot easier. Shall I meet you at your office and we can discuss it?”

Nodding heavily, Elegy replied, “Yes, of course.  I’m excited to discuss it more, Dechraib.”  Elegy palmed the slim PADD from a holster on his hip and he swiped his fingers across the display.  Navigating the LCARS with a few taps, Elegy accessed the location of his office and the directions to get there.  Upon proffering the PADD to Dechraib, Elegy said, “This is where you’ll find me.”

Dechraih smiled as the directions appeared on the screen. “Thank you Counsellor Weld, I will be along shortly.” He said before terminating the call. He grabbed his satchel and a couple of things he might need and set off. He had to admit he was excited about recreating a dish for the first time in a while.

As Elegy took his first steps back towards the corridor, he lightly tapped his combadge.  “Weld to Oin’sun,” he said to open a comm channel with Cynndle.

Cynndle was just stretching after standing up from his console. He had spent too many hours sitting down during his shift. He was relieved to have his shift end and was about to turn to leave when his commbadge chimed, and Elegy’s voice came over it.  “Go for Oin’sun, I take it we have a list from Dechraih?”

Once he was in the relative privacy of the corridor, Elegy sighed heavily.  Almost immediately, he covered his mouth and hoped the sigh hadn’t been captured by his combadge.  “Not quite yet,” Elegy replied.  “His patrons come first and rightly so.  Dechiraib said he would meet me in my office shortly, if you’re free to join.  I figure you need this win as much as I do, just about now.”

“I can meet you there in 15, my shift just ended.” With that, he turned and left the auxiliary operations stations and headed to Elegy’s office.

“Come in,” Elegy said.  Waiting alone in his office, Elegy’s impatience was visibly palpable.  He was pacing from bulkhead to bulkhead, but he stopped and he took a deep breath as soon as he heard the door chime.  Elegy smoothed out his uniform jacket and turned to regard the opening doorway.

Cynndle turned just as the door opened and he faced Elegy. “Hey, how are things?” Cynndle said but before Elegy could answer a voice called out “Lieutenant,” and Dechiraib came down the corridor. 

Dechiraib approached the door and stopped beside Cynndle who gave him a quick nod. He pulled out his PADD and gestured to it, “I think I know what is needed, though the protein will be a trick. I think the two of you can get it your access.”

“Oh?” Elegy asked, elongating the vowel.  Between his smirk and a raised eyebrow, it was obvious his interest was piqued.  Elegy clapped his hands together.  Tongue in cheek, he asked, “Exactly what vault would you have us break into?”

Dehiraib smiled, “I believe the humans call it Fort Knox?” he said with a pause then laughed. “Nothing like that, basically a few of the restaurants might have something that could work. Trill Sabre Beast, ideally spear hunted for example. There is an Andorian Ice dragon, a small hairy lizard thing that is meant to taste similar.” His face grew a bit of a frown. “I am pretty sure minced and reformed gagh could work if spiced a lot but I really don’t like cooking with it not the mention any Klingon would likely take offence to what I would do it…”

Elegy opened his mouth and closed it again.  He furrowed his brow, in consideration of the options, and he rubbed his hands together.  “Minced gagh sounds like we’re veering too far afield from the original request,” Elegy remarked.  “Sabre beast or ice dragon should be manageable, I imagine.  What do you think, lieutenant?” Elegy asked, looking at Cynndle.

Cynndle paused for a moment and thought about it, “We should be able to get sabre beast or ice dragon pretty easily. Between the restaurants, it shouldn’t be an issue. I have even heard that there is a proper butcher that opened up recently.”

Dehiraib nodded, glad to hear that, “As for the gagh, it could work but wouldn’t be the first. So where to now?”

Cynndle looked back at Elegy and shrugged, “I guess the butcher would be the most logical place to start but not sure if it would have these sorts of things. I know I have had grilled sabre beast at one of the restaurants on the promenade. We could start there also.”

“Absolutely, the butcher is where we begin,” Elegy agreed.  “Beyond the meat, do you really think you have the right recipe, Dehiraib?  The one my… hypothetical patient was talking about?”

Dehiraib turned and looked at Elegy, “I have made this before and it will be as close to what you had described to me as possible given that some of the ingredients likely no longer exist. I believe your hypothetical patient will like it. ” With that, he smiled, “The butcher’s is a solid place. Lieutenant Oin’sun and Weld please lead the way.”

“Pleased to do so,” Elegy said.  There was more than a little skip to his step as he lead the way into the corridor.  As much as this mission veered beyond the bounds of his role as a counselor, there was a certain satisfaction in being able to replicate that feeling of home for someone who had lost everything.

A little while later they stepped out onto deck 335 into one of the commercial districts which were closely linked to the main promenade. “I believe the butcher’s shop is one section over.”

Leaving the turbolift behind, Elegy regarded Dehiraib to ask, “Forgive me for being nosy, but at what point did you decide to make food the spindle of your life?”

Cynnndle cocked his head to better hear Dehiraib’s response as he began to speak. “Hmm. Honestly, I haven’t thought about that in a long time. I don’t think there was anything else for me really. I grew up cooking with my mother and grandmother and after I served in the navy I didn’t really think about it. I started working at restaurants and opened my own a few years later.” 

Dehiraib continued to walk as he spoke, “There is just something about preparing food that people will enjoy. Though restaurants can be stressful the process of cooking I find relaxing.” A moment later they stepped into a large gallery and directly across from them stood a butcher shop. At its front was a large refrigerated display cabinet with various cuts of meat from animals from a dozen worlds. “Should be able to get what is needed here.”

Nodding at Dehiraib’s thoughtful words, Elegy followed him into the butcher shop.  “That sounds like a worthy way to spend a lifetime,” he said.  “Following your passions wherever they take you; finding calm in what you do.”

“Well put,” Dehiraib said, “Now, let’s see about getting what we need.” He walked across the gallery and into the butcher shop without waiting for a response. Upon entering he was greeted by an elderly Andorian man, “Welcome, what can I get for you?”

Dehiraib pursed his lips as he looked down at the selection of meats before him. “Too much to hope that you have Hlai?”

The Andorian shook his head, “Sadly no, not since the unfortunate destruction of Romulus. Though I have heard that some breeders had some off-planet so it is out there but virtually impossible to find outside Romulan space.”

Dehiraib sighed, “Yeah, figured I would ask. How about Trill Sabre beast or Andorian Ice Dragon?”

The butcher nodded, “I have those, actually some arrived yesterday on my regular shipment. Any specific cut in mind?”

“The tenderloin of each would be best I think, a half kilo of each,” Dehiraib said as he turned to Cynndle and Elegy. “Once I have this I think I can get the peppers and spices from hydroponics.”

“Thank you again,” Elegy earnestly said.  He looked over at the refrigerated meat case in curiosity.  “This will mean so much for my hypothetical patient.”

The Andorian returned a few moments later with two packages wrapped in brown paper. “I hope these are to your liking, that will be 3 strips and 2 slips of latinum.” Dehiraib turned to look at Elegy, “I trust you can cover this? I am a refugee after all.”

Elegy promptly palmed his PADD and activated the holographic interface.  He tapped through the menu options to get to the banking service.  With a few more swipes a second holographic display appeared within the Andorian butcher’s grasp.  Elegy smiled sheepishly and shared an askew glance with Dehiraib.

“I hope that was a fair price,” Elegy said if tongue in cheek.  “I can’t profess to understand economics, but Starfleet has accounts for these types of interactions.”

Dehiraib shrugged and chuckled a little “As far as one can expect for fresh meat from various planets light years away on a space station near none of the planets.” He looked at Elegy’s face and added, “Yes it is a very good price actually, I would not have gotten it otherwise.” 

He turned to the Andorian and nodded, “Thank you. Once I get my feet back under me, if I remain on the station, I will be back. It is always rare to find such a good selection of meat and cuts.” To which the Andorian just smiled and returned to wiping the counter.

“I can head to hydroponics myself and get the remaining ingredients. I should have this ready for you in a few hours. Or would you like me to wait, say tomorrow?” Dehiraib asked.

Cynndle shrugged as he looked around the shop making a mental note to come back himself and pick up a few things. “That is up to Elegy, though I wouldn’t mind trying this dish when it is ready Dehiraib.”

“Let’s say tomorrow,” Elegy suggested.  “I’d like to prepare my patient.”

“Tomorrow then, best to have this in the afternoon,” Dehiraib stated.

After spending most of the following day prepping the dish Dehiraib was finally happy with what he had created. The two dishes in front of him tasted as close as he could reasonably expect for stewed Hlai’vnau. He had to admit the sabre beast was incredibly tender but the ice dragon’s flavour was slightly stronger. He packed up the dishes and headed towards Elegy’s office. 

Not long later he stood outside the door and pressed the buzzer. 

Waiting for him inside the office were nearly a dozen Romulans gathered with empty stomachs and big spoons.  As much as Elegy wanted to provide the satisfaction of Dehiraib’s old family delicacy to his grieving patient, he also had to protect her confidentiality.  With her permission, she had brought new friends and family she had made among the other Romulan refugees on the station.  It wouldn’t be long now before the Romulan transport ships took them away from Starbase Bravo.  Elegy stepped back from the group, giving them the first chance to enjoy the meal that had been lovingly prepared for them.

Dehiraib smiled as he entered the room when he saw so many other Romulans. Turning to Elegy he laughed, “Good thing I made far more than I thought was needed.” He then turned to the other Romulans, “I hope this does justice for a dish I know so many of you grew up with and love. Stewed Hlai’vnau can be done so many ways but I believe this is very close.” He unpacked the two large pots he had lugged up to Elegy’s office, setting them on the table. A few minutes later he was ready to dish them up. Grabbing the first partitioned bowl he ladled each of the stews before handing it to the first Romulan. “I hope you enjoy, the sabre beast is incredibly tender but the ice dragon’s flavour has a slightly stronger flavour. If you like you could also mix them together.”

Within moments the room was silent as everyone was happily eating the improvised stewed Hlai’vnau. Dehiraib happily watched each of them as they ate, silently impressed that he had been able to make the dish. Now that he had he was confident he could do it again and had already programmed it into the star bases replicators.

Cynndle glanced at the time as he sat in his quarters. He didn’t want Heriah to feel like he was checking up on her because he didn’t trust her, but he said he would check in on her.  After their chat tthe other day he wanted to give her some space but given what had been happening and what he suspected may be happening he knew he had to check in with her regularly.

He stepped over to his computer console, opened a call to Heriah and waited for a response.

It took a short moment, but Cynndle saw that the call was activated…audio only. He could already here the obvious sound of a brush trekking its way through a length of hair. “Cynndle. Hello,” came her voice through the speakers. Another brush of the hair. “To what do I owe this honor?” To anyone taking note (when she sounded gingerly, when she sounded off, when she sounded clearly out of sorts, when she simply did not sound herself at all) this time would certainly go down in the ‘Sounding Gingerly’ column.

“Hi…” Cynndle said pausing slightly his voice trailing off. “Heriah, I wanted to check in as we discussed. How are you feeling?” The way she sounded made him a bit uneasy.

“I’m feeling OK,” she said. The brushing stopped. “Another day of hearing people’s woes. It…sometimes puts my own into perspective. My own struggles sound minute when compared to some of what I hear. I can’t speak on any of that here, of course, but…it pains me when I want to go and find the source of my patient’s pain and punch that person right in the face, but I can’t.” The brushing started again. “I guess my success; my figurative punching in the face, is getting my patient through their pain and onward. And I had a few breakthroughs today. So…all in all…today was a good day. I am doing well. How about you? How are you doing?”

“I can understand the desire to step in and help others directly, Heriah,” Cynndle said, “But I am doing ok, thanks. Had the day off so took it easy but wanted to check in.” He paused for a moment and frowned.

“That’s good,” her voice came through the speaker. “That’s good.” A bit of silence. “I have been meaning to check in on you as well. I’ve been thinking about you. Well…thinking about your progress…with our sessions and all.”

Cynndle nodded but his gut said something was off. “Have you used the monocorder recently? Can we switch to video so I can see the reading?”

The sound of the hairbrush being placed down sounded a bit harsher than Cynndle expected. Perhaps she placed it down close to the audio input of her computer terminal.

“Oh…um,” she started. He could hear her stand from her chair. “Just a moment.” Her voice lowered in volume. “I am not…really…all that…well…” her voice became distant as she stepped away, but she spoke louder. “…well…I am well. Just not…well…dressed. That is. Hold on.”

Cynndle could also hear the obvious sound of fumbling clothing. Heriah was putting something on, covering herself.

Heriah said something in a lower voice, nearly inaudible. Speaking to someone else or was that possibly meant for Cynndle? “I got this,” she said. “Now where is that damned…oh there it is.”

The sound of feet brought her closer to her terminal. There came a sigh and the sound of her seating herself once again. “I apologize if I sounded impatient. I know you are only looking out for me,” but Cynndle could not tell if those words were meant for him.

The UFP emblem finally vanished from Cynndle’s screen, went black and was replaced with Heriah’s face. A large-necked shirt hung off one shoulder. Her hair appeared well brushed and hung down over her exposed shoulder. Heriah was not exactly smiling but not frowning either. She was almost indifferent. She did hold a hand up before her. Atop her index finger was the monocorder.

“It’s flashing red right now because it is still taking a reading,” she said right when the monocorder turned a solid green. “There it is.” Her eyes did not reconnect with his through the monitor. She did not look away either, just around.

He frowned slightly. He looked at the screen and could clearly see that the light was green. He leaned back and thought about what to do next, ‘Something seems off but the monocorder is green….cannot tell her to take another dose, that was the issue before.’ Realizing he was frowning he shook his head and smiled, “Thanks Heriah. When did you take the last benzo dose by chance? Sorry for pushing this but I just want to make sure you are well.”

Heriah let her hand fall away from view. She did reconnect with his eyes. “I did ask for this. So,” she looked up and away, stretched her neck and looked back at him through the monitor. “I don’t want you to apologize. You are not pushing. I asked for this and I need this. I know that. You, you are good to me Cynndle. I know it is not your job and may not be a load of fun but…I would much rather it be you than Elegy or someone else. I admit I have not yet met with Elegy, but I do have an appointment to meet with him soon.”

Cynndle nodded at that, taking in what she said. “I am glad you feel that way and I won’t apologize again for this. As for Elegy, I am glad you have an appointment coming up soon. It will help,” he said before adding, “and needed.” He glanced at the time on the display and was about to end the call when he remembered the Post Crisis Summit party, get-together. They had previously discussed going, “The post-crisis party is the day after tomorrow, I wanted to check if you are still in for that?”

It started as a minute nod, but Heriah finally managed to exaggerate it and produced a smile. “Yes, I am.” She shrugged. “I am told I am going regardless. I would much rather go with someone I know…someone I like. I do hope your schedule can accommodate going to that.”

Cynndle smiled slightly, “Told you are going?” he said with a pause and looked at the screen for a moment. “Well I am free so I look forward to it.”

Heriah smiled and shrugged, “Slip of the tongue, my bad.”

“Fair enough, have a good night Heriah. I will get in touch with you soon.” Cynndle said with a smile and excused himself.

Moving his way down the corridor, Joshua finally arrived at the science lab. It would be weird to have a space all his own. It wasn’t all his own but shared with eight people. He readjusted his grip on his plant’s storage container; the sooner he got it acclimated to the lab, the better its chances. He typed in his access code on the door’s console. The console’s lights dimmed, came back on, and gave an error noise. Joshua frowned, “I thought that was right…” He checked the PADD, confirmed the code, and punched it in again. The console made the same noise. Once more, the same result. “What is wrong with this thing?” He slapped his hand against it in frustration and instantly regretted it. “I guess they build these pretty durable.” He winced and flexed his hand. Joshua tapped his commbadge, “Bryant to Engineering. I’m having trouble getting into Science Lab…” He checked the door, “Thirteen. Can someone take a look?”

Thisbe was in the Engineering office, manning the desk/main station. The Jarok was on DS9 for a routine resupply run-a nice break from the constant work that reviving an old space frigate required. Also a nice break from her constant worry that she wasn’t good enough to compete with her human and Romulan colleagues-having no formal engineering training outside of her Academy classes. All Thisbe had been taught was to be the perfect Cardassian wife. Ew. 

However, desk work was mind-numbingly boring, and she was half-tempted to put up a “back in five” sign and look for light leaks behind her eyes. So when the call came in over the comms system, she popped to her feet. “Uhlan P’rar here. I’ll be right there.” She dropped the sign that said she’d return ASAP with the stupid little clock and dashed out of the office, grabbing a bag of tools on her way out. She found a strange man standing in front of the labs. 

“What seems to be the problem?” She asked. 

Turning to the new voice, Joshua replied, “That was fast, must be a slow day.” He motioned towards the door and console. “I’m trying to set up my lab, but I can’t get inside. I thought it was a problem with the access code, but the console went dark and anything I put in gives an error. I tried some,” he cleared his throat, “percussive maintenance, but I figured I would call in an expert.”

Thisbe took the PaDD. “I see. Generally, that DOES work, at least for the Red Shirts. Let me see what I can do.” In a flash, she had the thing apart. “Busted motherboard. HOW hard did you hit it?” 

Joshua flexed his hand and chuckled. “Not as hard as it hit back. It broke before I touched it.” He thought for a minute, “Though I’m sure my efforts didn’t help.” 

She sighed. “Come with me.” She turned to head back down the hallway to Engineering. “You’re correct; it IS a slow day. Ensign Thisbe P’rar, Damage Control Specialist.” 

“Looks like I called the right person for the job. Dr. Joshua Bryant, Science Specialist. At least I’m supposed to be.”

Thisbe stopped outside the doors to Engineering, and let herself in. “Help yourself to something from the replicator. Also, Lt. Hawkins’ daughter made cookies,” she indicated a tray. “Feel free. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared to get some supplies. 

Joshua walked over to the replicator and set the plant’s environmental container on the counter. He looked at the indicators and frowned. “Not much time left…” 

He turned to the replicator, “Tube grubs.” The energy swirled and a bowl of grubs emerged. He set it next to the container. “I hope this will keep you long enough.” He disengaged the vacuum lock. The lid released with a hiss. Joshua dumped the bowl into the hungry mouth of the plant, spilling half into the container itself. He quickly put the lid back on, reengaged the lock, and turned up the environment controls. An alarm toned, which Joshua silenced.

She returned a minute later, finding Joshua feeding a plant. She wrinkled her nose a little. 

“Interesting specimen. We don’t have those on Cardassia Prime. Nor on Bajor.” Her head was down as deft fingers worked quickly. Wires were separated and removed. 

“Science specialist, huh? What kind of science?” She was mostly making small talk; things that wouldn’t require too much concentration as she worked to repair the PaDD.

“Botany mostly. My mother was happy when I followed in my parent’s footsteps. Aurous carnivores are native to Cygnia Minor. They do exist in other places, but they aren’t very common.” He looked at the fogged over glass. “It isn’t doing very well. It needs a humid environment, and I’ve overtaxed the capsule’s capabilities. I thought about using Adorian ice-bores to help it photosynthesize, but I didn’t want them to generate too much heat. The tube grubs perked it up a bit though.”

After a few moments, Thisbe had the console repaired. “I see. Maybe put it in the showers?” She said, with a shrug. It was the most humid environment she could think of. “If you need help with a thermo-regulator, I’ll be here a few more days. Not sure what the captain has us heading to next.” She led him down the hallway. “Let’s try it now.” She watched as Joshua entered his credentials and smiled. 

“Nice to meet you. I’ll get back to work now.” 

Joshua considered her offer and suggestion. “Those are some good suggestions; I’ll have to give them some thought. But for now, I need to get this inside. Thanks again!” He called over his shoulder before disappearing into the lab.

The door closed behind Joshua, leaving him in darkness. “Computer, lights; full illumination.” The darkness was quickly swallowed by the room’s lights. Joshua quickly surveyed the science stations and found his. “Computer, activate the workstation designated for Dr. Joshua Bryant,” he said as he briskly walked to the station.

The computer terminal blinked to life and began running diagnostics. “Computer, override setup diagnostics via voice print match.” The terminal chirped and stopped mid-line of setup code and began displaying the main access screen.” Joshua carefully set the plant down on the nearby table. “Computer, create an enviro-field of 1 cubic meter acceptable to an Aurous carnivorous plant. Place it at,” Joshua checked the table. “Table area 23x-y1.” A chime toned and a field appeared on the table.

While the order was being processed, Joshua opened the enviro-capsule and gingerly took the plant into the enviro-field’s warmth. He pulled a leaf from the plant after setting it down. Joshua steepled his fingers in front of his mouth and watched the plant. “I hope it’s not too late,” he said with a deep sigh. “There’s nothing else to do with you but wait.”

He took the leaf and place it in a diagnostic machine and closed the lid. “Computer, run a diagnostic on the sample. Emphasize any deficiencies in proteins and nutrients.” He drummed his fingers while watching the terminal do its work. A series of electrolyte and nutritional figures quickly moved across the screen. “I should’ve asked for a list of the nutrients that aren’t deficient; it would be a shorter list,” he chuckled wryly.

Joshua watched the figures scroll by and something caught his eye: a tube grub. He cursed and picked up the enviro-capsule. Most of the tube grubs were dead due to the high temperature, but a few ambitious ones were making their way across the table. He scooped them up with the capsule and sealed the lid. He looked over the capsule, it was completely fried. A mechanically inclined person might be able to repair it, but it’s far above his skill. Joshua gave it a mock salute, “You did your duty faithfully.”

He set the capsule down and move to the terminal. The results weren’t good. “Computer, cross reference the Starfleet database’s medicine database with the deficient nutrients. Include alternative and experimental formulations.” The results displayed on the screen, a few good possibilities. One specifically in the experimental section.

 “Computer, access civilian and Starfleet personnel records on Starbase Bravo for individuals with the education necessary to synthesize medication designated X-2544b?” He scrolled through the list and picked a few candidates. It was time to make some friends.

The soft chime of the alarm Luke had set broke through the haze of sleep. Throwing back his covers he let out a yawn while stretching. 

“Good morning Ensign, it is now 0500 hours.” the cool voice of the computer cut in between the chimes.

“Acknowledged, activate lights.” Luke murmured as he made his way to the bathroom, squinting slightly at the glow from the lighting, grabbing his uniform as he went. A sonic shower and some coffee from the roastery he had seen the day prior was on the agenda before reporting to his department head.

After his morning ablutions were completed and he was looking a bit more presentable, Luke grabbed his padd and made for the nearest turbolift. Waiting patiently for the turbolift car to arrive, Luke took a quick  glance at his orders to commit the most important parts to memory. Starbase Bravo was a hive of activity, even more so than usual as upgrades to the station’s reactors are underway. Personnel and supplies were rotating in and out in near constant cycles to get the work completed in time.

“Upper Promenade” Luke requested as he entered the now waiting turbolift cart. Exiting the turbolift when he arrived on the promenade, the first thing he took note of was the amount of crew members finishing shifts or getting ready to start the next one. Life on a starbase doesn’t really stop for anyone, let alone the flow of time. Taking care not to collide with anyone, he made for the direction of Brew for a real cup of coffee. Replicated coffee was pleasant enough, but nothing beat a freshly brewed coffee to get the day started.

Quickly standing in line, he joined the queue of other crew members in waiting for their caffeine fix. Thankfully at this time of the morning the line was moving fairly quickly, and before too long, Luke found himself facing one of the holographic barista’s. Starfleet technology was truly a marvel when you stopped to think about it.

“Good morning Ensign Daniels, what can we get started for you today?” the barista on duty enquired.

“Good morning, can I order a large mocha please?” Luke responded.

“Of course sir, take a seat and we will bring this over in a few minutes.” the barista acknowledged.

Spotting a small table near the entrance, Luke took a seat and watched the comings and goings of the promenade while he waited. The smell of roasting and grinding coffee beans filling the air.

“Your mocha, Sir.” the barista announced as the steaming mug was placed on the table.

“Thank you.” Luke replied as he brought the steaming cup to his mouth. The delightful mix of coffee and chocolate being more tempting than it was not five minutes ago. Taking a sip, he savored the caffeine now flowing through his veins as he gave the drink a minute or two to cool to a more drinkable temperature. Noting the time, Luke quickly downed the mug and set the dishes neatly to the side. He definitely did not want to run late and make a bad impression on his department head.

Getting to his feet, Luke’s stomach grumbled a wee bit. Perhaps a trip to the replicator banks for a quick walking breakfast was in order. Well would have been in order if he hadn’t overheard the stations announcement.

“Attention all hands, the replicator banks on the promenade are currently offline for a database update. This outage should only last up to 10 minutes.”

Shaking his head slightly, Luke instead redirected back toward the turbolift. He would have something to snack on later today, time permitting of course.

“Sector Lima-Violet.” Luke requested entering the turbolift. In a few brief moments he was whisked away to his destination. Exiting the turbolift, Luke quickly consulted the station directory to track down his department head. Entering Auxiliary Cargo Bay 1, he made a beeline for the lieutenant in charge.

“Ensign Lukas Daniels, reporting for duty, Sir.” Luke reported in.

“Welcome to the madhouse Ensign.” the lieutenant responded with a smile. “As you can see we have our work cut out for us.”

Motioning toward the backed up supplies and cargo crates. “We are doing some pretty heavy maintenance on the reactors, and with all the comings and goings, some much needed supplies have been relegated to the auxiliary cargo bays.”

Looking around the cargo bay in front of him Luke couldn’t help but notice things were in a bit of disarray.

“Where would you like me sir?” questioned Luke.

Tapping a few commands into the nearby terminal, Luke’s department head turned to him. “I have downloaded some shipping manifests and cargo transfer orders to your tricorder.”

“I would like you to liaise with the Quartermaster and Cargo Operations to help get these supplies from here to the main cargo bays.” he continued. “And don’t be afraid to get your hands dirty.” the lieutenant finished with a lopsided grin.

“Yes sir.” Luke responded, eager to get some outstanding work orders finalised and free up some additional storage space.

Receiving another rejection, Joshua crossed another name off his list. “So much for boldly going where no one has gone before.” He looked at the remaining list despondently. “I didn’t expect to burn through the list this fast.” Joshua looked at the next name on the list, “Dr. Hunter Callaghan…” He quickly glanced through her qualifications again. Joshua reached to press his commbadge and stopped, what was the protocol? The scientists he contacted previously were civilians, but this was a superior officer. Should he be so bold as to contact her via commbadge or send a console message? Joshua decided to play it safe, he was already running out of people to ask. The message was simple enough: It requested the need for help with an experiment requiring someone with pharmacological and/or chemistry knowledge. It wasn’t overly detailed, there would be time for that later.

Hunter had been through it, as one might say.  The day had started terribly and in her opinion ended terribly.  After managing to pull herself from sickbay, she found an establishment that didn’t seem well-traveled.  Sure, when one was looking for a place to eat you typically liked to see people.  However, this was one of those days where the fewer people, the better.

Her order was simple, a cucumber sandwich and a large glass of iced tea. “You can’t screw that up,” she paused as she sat down at the nearest table.  She paused thinking of all the ways something could mess up that order. She glanced at her padd, after being alerted to a message. “Pass,” she told herself as she really didn’t bother to read the message.

The console next to Joshua beeped. He looked over to see the request was rejected. “Rejected without reading? The sense of adventure is lacking in this station.” He looked down the list, “Dr. V’Lavith… Computer, establish a connection with Dr. V’Lavith in Science Lab 4.” The Starfleet logo spun and disappeared, revealing the face of the Vulcan scientist. “Dr. Bryant. I do not believe we have met before.”

“No, I’m new on the station. I apologize for any interruption. I’m attempting to synthesize an experimental protein mixture  X-2544b.”

“It is ill-advised to utilize such an experimental mixture on humanoids. If the research is to be believed.”

“I’m attempting to modify it for use on plant life.”

Dr. V’Lavith raised an eyebrow, “Fascinating. In that case, send me your notes and I will review them when I have a moment.”

Joshua pressed a few buttons on the console, “Notes sent, I look forward to working with you. Bryant out.” The Vulcan’s image disappeared. He finally found someone to work with, this was turning out well. 

Sonja had been trying to decide what to do with the day, as she still had another day off. She could smell the freshly brewed coffee her roommate had brewed before heading to their shift. She got out of bed and got dressed in some comfy clothes before shuffling into the living room area and poured a cup of coffee. The aroma was a sweet sensation as she took a sip she heard the door chime. She rubbed her head knowing she looked like quite a sight, She shuffled over to the door and opened it finding Elegy outside. Her eyes got wide and she kinda stammered “Good…good morning.” She didn’t know what else to say and stood there awkwardly waiting to see what he would say.

“Good morning, Sonja,” Elegy replied with a bit more gusto than Sonja.  In his crisp black and teal Starfleet uniform, Elegy Weld was stood in the corridor with his head freshly shaved and his collar adorned with his new lieutenant pips.  His green eyes slowly widened in concern at Sonja.  He said, “I had planned to invite you for breakfast….  I thought I send you a message yesterday… but maybe I only thought about sending it.  …Oh no.”

Sonja rubbed her head for a moment trying to remember a message. She was pretty on the ball with appointments and she didn’t remember such a message from her friend. “Elegy first off I noticed you got Lieutenant congratulations. Second, if you can give me about 10 minutes I would love to have breakfast. Please come in and sit down while I get ready.”

She stood to the side motioning Elegy into the quarters as she turned and smiled “Guess there is no other way to see someone than fresh outta bed.” She joked.

Beaming with gratitude, Elegy followed Sonja into her quarters.  With each step, Elegy replied, “Thank you.  Thank you so much.”  He began to circle the furniture in the living area and then he chose the seat that would most comfortably keep him looking away from the ‘fresher and the sleeping compartment.  “It is always instructional to see what someone wears to bed, the way their hair changes, the priority order of their preparations in the morning…” Elegy remarked, once he was sitting.  Sheepishly, he admitted, “I think I wrote a behavioural studies paper on that as a sophomore…”

Sonja listened closely as she went back to her sleeping area to change. She quickly switched into some comfy clothes and chuckled at Elegy “Of course you did.” She chimed from the room. She fixed her hair so she actually looked presentable before heading out to the living quarters “Ta Da.” She said with a giggle before plopping down on the seat adjacent to Elegy “Apologies for not being ready, but I don’t recall a message from you. Regardless where do you want to go for lunch?”

Tilting his head to the side, Elegy admitted, “I’ve been working through the menu at Binomial.  It’s that Trill restaurant.  Have you tried their food before?”

Sonja shook her head “I have not tried this restaurant, but I have had Trill food and it’s absolutely delicious. I’d be ok with that though I definitely will be getting some breakfast.”

“I’m sure they can accommodate breakfast,” Elegy replied with a satisfied nod.  He swept a hand towards the doorway to ask, “Shall we head out?”

Sonja gave a nod and motioned Elegy out of the quarters so she could lock it behind him. As they began to walk she smiled at him. He had a glow about him one she had not seen before. She cocked her head trying to figure out what it could be before asking him. “Elegy you look much happier than the last time I saw you, almost like you have a glow. What is going on that I don’t know about?”

Walking apace with Sonja, Elegy replied, “I took a bit of shore leave and I suppose I’ve been sleeping better… to the detriment of my love life.”  His babble sounded like a delaying tactic, before he admitted, “And I’ve been promoted. Full lieutenant comes with strings.  I’ve been named the starbase’s deputy director of psychiatry.”

Sonja grinned “Well, I knew you would do it! I told you from the beginning you were full of what was needed to succeed. I told you that drive would take you far. I am still working my way up, but rest assured I am not giving up.” She said as the fire in her eyes burned with determination.

Elegy offered a bashful smile back at Sonja.  He swept a hand through the air, literally waving off a couple of her compliments.  “I got lucky, at least in part,” Elegy said.  “The counseling department was understaffed when the we took in all those Romulan refugees a few months back.  I had minored in hospital administration at Starfleet Medical; I managed to operationalise some new research into how to maximize counseling sessions without impacting the patient care.  I’m by no means the best psychiatrist, but I know my way around empowering a department.”

Sonja shook her head “You know I don’t believe that. You did the job and obviously it was seen to be above the actions of others. I have been working on a new community outreach program that was tasked to me. It has taken the majority of my time trying to get a plan written up for the Commander, but I think I got it. I am trying to show I am capable of more. Sometimes it is why I work such long hours.” She said looking at Elegy. “You know that as for yourself your way too humble.”

“I appreciate that a lot, Sonja; thank you,” Elegy said, his lips curling into a bashful smile.  The doors to the turbolift opened and Elegy stepped aboard, requesting that it take them to the promenade.  “Who would have thought we’d be here now after we first met on that runabout, rescuing Tellarites in a storm?”

Sonja smirked “They say its a big world, but sometimes in these cases it feels like a small one. It is crazy to see where we started. I can say I wouldn’t change it for anything though.”

Looking to Sonja, Elegy asked, “Tell me more about the community outreach program you’ve been developing?  I don’t think I’m familiar with that one.”

Sonja’s eyes twinkled “I have been tasked with getting a better relationship with the station civilians and security so we can help mitigate issues quicker, but also show the people we’re here to help in more capacities than they think.” She smiled showing an actual interest in the information she shared.

“Oh, now that’s an exciting program,” Elegy said with no small enthusiasm.  “An important one too they’ve entrusted in your capable hands.  What do you think our civilian population would be most surprised to learn about our security department aboard Starbase Bravo?”

Sonja thought for a moment “I think they will be surprised to know how helpful we truly are if they just reach out to us, especially when they are in need.” She said showing excitement for the new intiative.

“What would you say,” Elegy asked, “is their greatest need?  A life on a federation starbase is more comfortable than many.”  Raising his eyebrows at Sonja, he waved a hand at the storefront for Binomial as they strode within view of the restaurant.

Sonja thought for a moment “I truly believe that the thing that is needed most is a relationship with Starfleet that is trusting and open especially when they are having any issues. It may seem like a small need, but I believe it is one of the biggest.”

“That sounds very astute to me,” Elegy replied, as he meandered through Binomial and sat himself in an empty booth.  “Building trust within the community you operate can only support all of your initiatives.  That can be challenging at the best of times and our Starbase Bravo civilians have been through a lot this year, between natural disasters and inter-galactic political upheaval.”

Sonja nodded “I think building trust is paramount especially in our situation as we have to show them what we can do and how we are here to help.”

“But for tonight,” Elegy said mirthfully, “the only trust you’re going to need is: are you gonna you choose the best meal on the menu?”

Sonja smirked “I guess you will have to wait and see.”

He was going to be late. 

Ryke Ashfield ground his teeth as he waited in line for the transporter to get over to Starbase Bravo. Layovers in his journey to get here had caused delays, which meant that rather than getting here last night and settling in, he had… less than half an hour to find his office and report for duty. Thankfully, he’d already gone through security pre-screening or he wouldn’t make it in time.

He didn’t like to be late. No, he hated to be late. 

His knuckles popped white as he reached the end of the line finally. The pad cleared and the transporter tech looked over at him. Giving his name and duty assignment, Ryke stepped forward and took his position on the pad. 

It took less than a few seconds for the world around him to change, and he opened his eyes to an almost identical transporter room. But this one was nearer to his goal. Smiling at the officer on duty, Ryke stepped off the pad and walked out onto the corridors. 

It took him longer than he thought it would to find his office, but that was understandable. He’d never been aboard a Guardian class before and found himself amazed everywhere he looked. The size alone… he’d never been on a ship or base this big. Pausing in a corridor, he checked with an information panel to make sure he was actually going the right way and caught sight of himself as the inactive panel acted like a mirror. It took a moment for him to reconcile the reflection with his mental image of himself. The neat uniform and the new pips. Sure, he was older than most junior-grade lieutenants, but his Starfleet career had started later. Up until a few years ago he… yeah, he hadn’t moved in the same world as anyone who wore this kind of uniform. 

Reassured he was headed in the right direction, he found the counseling department and the small office that was assigned to him. Stepping inside with a few minutes to spare, he finally allowed himself a deep breath and a sigh of relief as the tension eased from his broad shoulders. Late was by far not the worst thing he could be, but it bothered him on levels he really didn’t want to poke it. 

“Physician, heal thyself,” he murmured as he looked around. It was a small space, with one way in and out, with no window but the decor was nice and he had a plant. He eyed it with apprehension. He’d never been good at keeping things alive but was reassured by the pot it was in, which seemed to be an auto-watering system. 

Settling himself behind the desk, he logged into the system and reported himself aboard, then started to look at the list of appointments that had already been set up for him. His apprehension at being in a new place eased as he concentrated on the work in front of him. He would get familiar with what had been assigned then a little later, he would search for some coffee…