A sharp chime echoed through the observation lounge aboard Deep Space 11, a room which had been adapted for the sole purpose of playing host to the trial of one of Starfleet’s finest. When the chime rang a second time, a hush descended across the room, the many in attendance finally coming to order. When the final chime of the courtroom’s door sounded, it had an ominous tone to it – a tone that suggested it be the death knell to Fleet Captain Keziah Nazir’s stellar career.

Watching with bated breath, the attendee in the gallery stared as the doors finally parted, showing Nazir standing at the entrance of the tribunal chamber aboard the Copernicus-class starbase, momentarily frozen in place. The gleaming insignia on her dress uniform felt like it weighed a thousand tons, a symbol of authority that had once been her pride but now only reminded her of the fall she was about to endure. The room itself was starkly lit, its cold light reflecting off the polished black floors, amplifying the sterile, oppressive atmosphere that had become commonplace across Starfleet in recent years.

It was as she took in her surroundings that the Trill mistress of the Lakota locked eyes with her XO, and those who had been allowed to break the Lakota lockdown in order to be there for the proceedings. At least she’d been afforded the dignity to arrive at her trial without the shackles she’d read about in many of her 18th and 19th century human crime novels. All she could think about was those pips on her collar, and whether they’d still be shackled to her when all was said and done.

Once she felt a hand placed on the small of her back, she took a deep breath and stepped forward, her boots tapping rhythmically on the floor as she walked into the lion’s den. The eyes of the tribunal were on her: Fleet Captain Kelvan Vos, the imposing Eforisan figure seated at the high table, as stoic and calculating as ever, and the lone adjudicator of her fate. Across the room, Captain Kerina Marten, her prosecutor, watched her like a predator observing its prey. Marten’s Cardassian eyes were sharp, unrelenting, and filled with the cold promise of justice. A far cry from the Vulcan who would soon occupy one of two chairs at the adjacent defence table. Captain T’Prynn, to her credit, was interested in one thing only – the truth – and as Keziah glided into position between chair and table, she nodded respectfully  at her counsel.

From his seat at the high table at the front of the court, Kelvan Vos waved his hand, authorising counsel and defendant to take their seats. Once the scraping of chairs had subsided, the white-haired veteran sat forward and addressed the court.

“This hearing is now called to order,” his voice deep and authoritative as he smashed a small wooden gavel into its base plate and signalled the start of the official proceedings. “On this day, Stardate 240110.2, the bench shall consider the charges brought by the Office of the Judge Advocate General against Fleet Captain Keziah Nazir for crimes alleged to have occurred on Stardate 24019.4, in the Eridanus system of the former demilitarised zone.”

“Let the record show the parties present,” Fleet Captain Vos followed procedure to the nth degree, despite knowing all of the minute details days beforehand. Formalities had to be observed, and with that in mind, he looked towards the table on the port bulkhead, by the large bay windows.

Rising to her feet, the Cardassian with onyx waves nodded at the presiding officer. “Captain Kerina Marten for the prosecution, your honour, representing the Office of the Judge Advocate General,” she announced to those in the room who had, until this very moment, never met the woman.

Vos noted the Cardassian’s introduction, and turned to the tables near the starboard bulkhead.

“Captain T’Prynn, first officer of Deep Space 11 and defence counsel your honour,” the Vulcan beside the accused nodded to the judge. All the while, Keziah’s eyes were glued to the man at the front of the chamber, watching his every move as he picked up a data PADD and began to read from it.

Once the two lawyers were done with their introductions, the presiding officer commenced with the next stage of proceedings. “The charges are as follows,” he read from the device, ​​”Count One, a charge of gross misconduct. The defendant is accused of making decisions during the mission to Eridanus that violated Starfleet’s ethical guidelines and protocols. Count two, a charge of dereliction of duty. The defendant is charged with failing to fulfil her obligations as commanding officer of the U.S.S. Lakota NCC-42768 by allowing her personal struggles and impaired judgement to interfere with her ability to make sound decisions during the mission.”

The first real hint of emotion crept over Trill’s usually stoic face as she made eye contact with the judge for the first time at the mentioning of her recent medical difficulties.

“On the fourth count, a charge of reckless endangerment,” he averted his eyes back to the charge sheet and continued reading, “ where the defendant is accused of recklessly endangering the lives of civilians by choosing to defend a strategic military base instead of providing protection to civilian transports under threat, resulting in their destruction and the loss of countless lives.”

At this point, the Efrosian slipped the data PADD back to the table top and clasped his hands together. Glaring at the Captain across from him, she could almost taste the disdain he had for her on the air in the room. “The final, and perhaps most damaging charge, is that the defendant be unfit for command for reasons which were hidden from Starfleet and her crew, and are presented as evidence here that the defendant was no longer fit to command, leading to catastrophic consequences on the mission. How do you plead, Fleet Captain Nazir?” he asked her at last.

Nazir could feel about thirty sets of piercing eyes boring into the back of her skull while she rose to her feet and tugged on the hem of her jacket, joined by the prim and proper Vulcan advisor at her side. “I plead not guilty, your honour.”

And for the first time today, Vos actually showed some signs of empathy, wanting to shake his head and urge her to reconsider this choice, but knew he couldn’t. Slouching back in his chair, he nodded slowly. “Very well then,” his words quieter, softer than previously, “Captain Marten, Captain T’Prynn. You may begin your opening statements.”

Rising from her seat at the table on port side wall, deliberately chosen by the Counsel for its positioning on the lightest side of the room, the Cardassian prosecutor nodded, with a slight bow of deference to the older man’s position of authority. Rounding the table, the youngest of the command level officers there present pulled on the hem of her dress uniform jacket and came to a stop between her table and the gathered attendees.

With a deep breath, and much consideration about her opening salvo, Kerina Marten’s opened her case for the prosecution.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she began, her words solemn and measured, “on Stardate 24019.4, Fleet Captain Keziah Nazir made a decision that did not just cost lives—it shattered the very trust placed in Starfleet to protect the innocent. Today, I’ll prove how…”

Captain’s log, stardate 24019.4.

Lakota is currently patrolling the eastern edge of the former demilitarised zone border, the crew taking a few days to relax following the crisis of recent days. A crisis that could have been averted had it not been for the Cardassians.

Cardassian betrayal is nothing new to the people of our quadrant, not even to those colleagues aboard my ship who hail from those parts, but even they cannot fathom the self-righteousness behind the Cardassian decision to close the Underspace network. We have ships stranded across the galaxy; families missing their loved ones.

One day those ships might return, but what will they find when they get here? What will be left? Cardassians and the Federation have been developing closer ties in recent years, for what? Self-interests to destroy everything both sides have struggled so hard to build.

Sounds just like the Cardassians of old, doesn’t it? So much for the lessons learned from conflict…

Having the freedom to patrol the bridge on a quiet day was one of the things Nazir loved most about her role as commanding officer. She had no reports to write, no crew appraisals to perform, and nowhere else to be right now, which meant she could take in the sights and sounds of her people, hard at work on whatever day-to-day duties they were involved with. Passing by tactical she heard a conversation between Lieutenant Mitchell and one of her security team leaders about his unit’s performance in a recent drill, with the Lieutenant offering valuable pointers. Whilst Henry would be loathed to admit it, and even though it was very hard to see someone else sitting in Or’uil’s seat, Lauren had settled in well since arriving before Underspace disaster. Thankfully she didn’t have to report to Henry, or care about her recommendation for her to stay with the ship on a more permanent basis.

Next on her rounds, she heard the continued analysis of the Underspace network between Teyahna and a number of her team. Listening, albeit briefly, Keziah would be the first to admit some of their ideas went far above her ancient head. She was just happy to have a competent team crunching numbers and analysing data so that they could present her with options.

She was heading down the ramp on the port side of the bridge when she caught a glimpse of Noli. Things hadn’t been right between them for weeks, and it was entirely her fault, not the XO’s. She’d tried her best to reassure the Bajoran that her health was improving and that things were on the up, but she could sense a cautiousness from the XO that hadn’t been there before. It wasn’t like she was questioning orders or anything, but she was there, watching, listening, giving a final, unofficial seal of approval on things that normally she would never think twice about. Somehow, they had to fix this, but at the minute the Trill wasn’t sure what to say or do.

She didn’t have long to dwell on the matter though, as just as she rounded the bridge and passed behind Voran at Ops, the Vulcan’s station beeped and drew her attention to the front of the bridge again. “Lieutenant?” she enquired.

“A hail Captain,” the Vulcan’s dull, dreary voice reported, “from Deep Space Seventeen. Priority One.”

Priority One? That drew everyone’s attention in a way that it wasn’t meant to, but invariably did. As a ‘Captain’s Eyes Only’ type of message, the crew always wanted to know more than the Captain could tell them – at least initially. It was one of life’s great paradoxes.

“Put it through to the observation lounge,” Nazir patted the man on the shoulder, and headed up the steps in front of her chair. As she skipped past the XO, the two shared a look, one with two very different meanings; Nazir knew Noli would be waiting with baited breath, whilst Noli knew Nazir was trying her best to give her the reassurances she needed.

Fortunately, the Captain wasn’t gone very long, reappearing on the bridge less than a quarter of an hour later, looking a little more dishevelled than before though, but dishing out orders in a vain attempt to keep pretences under control.

“Henry; set a course for Eridanus, warp four. Teyahna; get me everything you can on the Eridanus system,” she instructed two of her most trusted colleagues. “Lieutenant Mitchell,” she turned to the younger of the Mitchell siblings, feeling too uncomfortable to call the newcomer by her first name just yet. “Get me a complete rundown of any and all New Maquis and True Way activity up to twenty lightyears from the planet. Both of you be prepared to debrief the staff in one hour.”

Eventually slouching into her chair and dropping a data PADD into her lap, the Trill let out a sigh and ran a hand through her long, brunette locks. All the while, the XO closely regarded her every facial gesture, her every hand movement. Hell, her every move.

After a few nervous minutes, the Bajoran leant forward in her chair slightly. “Everything alright, Captain?” she asked in a hushed manner, offering a smile once the Trill turned in her direction.

“Fine,” Nazir plastered the most sincere smile she could muster across her spotted face, “absolutely fine.”

Emerging from the observation lounge almost two hours later, the huddle of senior staff conversed in their small groups, making their way to stations around the bridge to go about their business. Mitchell Junior, the XO and Teyahna made their way for tactical, engrossed in a mini-mission briefing, whilst the rest of the senior staff engaged in less serious matters of conversation.

“Do you really think it could be the Maquis?” Mitchell Junior asked, slipping into the chair at tactical, spinning it so her focus remained on the two more senior officers with her. Teyahna perched on the edge of the security console, supporting her weight with her hands just behind her back, while Noli leant against the rail that separated the station from the rest of the bridge, arms folded across her chest.

Pursing her lips, the XO considered her answer carefully. “Honestly? I think they’re the far more likely of the two antagonists, given the planets position. But that doesn’t preclude the True Way from being involved in some capacity,” the Bajoran summoned her knowledge of the current political climate out there, in the former demilitarised zone. “All we know for certain is that Eridanus has gone quiet, and Starfleet is concerned,” she reminded the younger of the officers.

“Both sides have worked so hard,” the younger woman looked sad, resigned to yet another possible conflict on the horizon. She was right, of course. Colonies like Eridanus, where Federation and Cardassian alike had learnt to live in near-perfect harmony, were all at threat. Progress, sometimes decades of progress, sat on a knife edge. It was heartbreaking to think about.

“It might be nothing major,” the Orion scientist chipped in at last, her tone far more jovial than that of the XO. “Probably just a problem with their communications equipment, or it could be some sort of atmospheric anomaly or something. We always jump to the worst possible conclusion,” she shrugged, her brown hair bobbing freely, framing her blemish-free emerald skin.

“On the other hand it might be something catastrophic and we prepare for the worst,” a stern voice interrupted the three women, causing Noli and the Orion to turn, and the flustered, gold-clad Lieutenant to rise to her feet at the appearance of the Captain.

“Given the planet’s strategic importance and its history in the region, I’m inclined to believe in probable Maquis or True Way involvement and as such, we’ll go in ready for such an engagement,” the Trill warned them, her words used in such a way that she was almost chastising them. “Now, haven’t you all got work to do?” she frowned, then shook her head and made for the command chairs in the center of the bridge, leaving the Orion somewhat aghast, and the XO open mouthed.

Lauren took a deep breath and swiftly busied herself. Noli looked across at the scientist and jerked her head, intimating that the Commander should get back to work for now. Then, when she had steeled herself, the Number One took some steps towards the command area. “Captain,” she called out, “can I have a word please?”

Another word. These ‘chats’ were beginning to become an inconvenience, but she’d entertain her XO – for now.

Walking to the side of the bridge, the XO following very close behind, the Captain preempted her right hand’s line of questioning.

“Before you ask,” she put up a hand to silence the XO but spoke with a hushed tone despite the apparent confrontational manner she was exhibiting. “I’m absolutely fine. There’s nothing wrong, and we just need to get on with the task at hand.”

Stepping closer, the taller Bajoran bowed her head a little and gave a fake smile as she spoke, to at least give the rest of the staff the sense that everything was ok. “Forgive me, Captain, but you don’t seem fine. It would seem that you are anything but,” her words were out of concern, as they always were, for the ship and crew were always in a better position when their Captain was at her best. Only she didn’t seem to be at her best right now, despite her protestations.

“I’m not going through this again,” Nazir warned her subordinate. “I’ve told you I’m fine and that should be enough for you. I don’t want to hear about this again. Your focus needs to be on Eridanus, not me. Understood?” her chiding remarks were strong, but not as strong as the tone she used, leaving the XO under no illusions as to who was boss.

“Absolutely,” Noli frowned, watching as the now satisfied Captain brushed past and made her way to the command arena. Despite the Captain’s words, she didn’t feel the Trill had been entirely truthful.

And that worried her more than anything occurring on Eridanus possibly could.

A suffocating silence had filled the tribunal room after the early morning recess. Hushed conversations had been replaced by the kind of silence that felt more like anticipation than peace, especially when the prosecution had called their first witness. Commander Noli Auru, one-time trusted confidant and reliable XO to the defendant, stood at the witness stand, her face betraying no emotion as she waited for the questioning to begin. But Keziah knew her XO better than anyone and could see the strain in her XO’s eyes. Noli was trying her best to avoid eye contact with the Captain, but when they did eventually lock on, the weight of the moment hung heavy between them. Each of them knew the unspoken truth; the truth that what Auru was about to say might seal Nazir’s fate and end the trial before lunch.

To her credit, Noli didn’t want to be in the chair, ready to tattle on her friend, but she had to tell the truth, didn’t she? Even if that meant losing the respect of her friends? Prida had been by her side of course, their bond the unshakeable foundation upon which the Lakota crew had been built, but others she had considered friends had turned away from her at the mere possibility of her testifying against their Captain. Loyalty, it seemed, trumped truth. At least for some of them, and that worried the XO. Perhaps she had never truly known these people after all.

From her seat beside the defence counsel, Captain T’Prynn, Nazir’s fingers curled into her palms, her knuckles white beneath the sleek black fabric of her uniform. Across the room, footsteps clattered on the metal deck plating as Captain Kerina Marten took a deliberate step forward, her gaze locked onto Noli, and Noli alone. It looked as if no one else in the room mattered at that moment; not the judge, not the defence team, and certainly not the supposedly guilty party. When she eventually spoke, her voice was calm, and controlled, but sharp enough to cut through the tension in the room. She had to start strong, and start strong she did, going straight for the jugular.

“Commander Noli,” she clasped her hands behind her back, standing directly in front of the witness, “in your professional opinion, was Fleet Captain Keziah Nazir fit for command during the mission to Eridanus?”

The question hung in the air like a blade poised to drop, many mouths agape in disbelief that she had gone in for the kill in such a way, and for those not shocked, they simply watched and waited for the Bajoran’s response.

“At the beginning of the mission, yes. She was under a great deal of pressure,” Noli nodded, her eyes trained on the prosecution counsel, “but she had always handled that well in the past.”

Marten raised an eyebrow, the only change in her entire demeanour. “At the beginning, you say. When did that change, Commander?” the Cardassian asked, laser-focused on her target.

They were only two questions in and the Commander’s palms had begun to sweat in her lap, hesitant to incriminate the Captain, but with no alternative. She had to tell the truth. She took a deep breath. “It became more noticeable as the mission progressed,” Noli said. “Fleet Captain Nazir seemed distracted at times, less focused than usual.”

Marten showed none of the hesitation that Noli had exhibited, pouncing almost immediately. “Distracted in what way? Can you elaborate for the tribunal?”

Another deep breath and the XO resolved herself to simply telling the story as it was. “She would lose her train of thought during briefings. There were moments where she’d repeat the same orders, or her decisions seemed to be reactionary, rather than strategic.”

Whispers from the gallery drew a glare from Vos at the head table and quickly subsided, but not once was the Cardassian thrown off course.

“Commander,” now the comfort the prosecutor felt began to shine through as she relaxed her stance and began to walk around the area slowly, purposefully. “During this time, were you aware of Fleet Captain Nazir’s personal struggles with her mental health?” she asked, eyes still trained on the Bajoran.

“Yes,” she answered reluctantly, wiping her sweaty palms on her trouser legs. “I was aware that she had been struggling since the Dominion Invasion of Deneb and the subsequent Borg Crisis. We had discussed it a few times,” Noli explained and, just when it looked like she wanted to elaborate further, Marten jumped straight back in.

“Did you have concerns about how her mental state might be affecting her ability to command the Lakota?”

There was a long pause as the witness finally looked towards the defendant and pleaded for forgiveness with the emotion behind her eyes. “Yes,” she finally answered. “I had concerns, but I didn’t want to overstep my bounds as her XO. Fleet Captain Nazir has always been resilient. I trusted her to manage the situation.”

“Of course,” Marten nodded sagely, “And did you, at any point during the Eridanus mission, confront Fleet Captain Nazir about these concerns?”

“Objection,” A voice from the opposite side of the room drew the gaze of the gallery and earned the witness a temporary reprieve. T’Prynn was on her feet quicker than she could finish the word. “Leading the witness your honour,” she explained. “Counsel is steering the witness’s testimony rather than letting the witness provide information freely.”

“Overruled,” Vos disagreed, but looked towards the Cardassian. “But watch yourself, Captain,” he warned the prosecutor.

“Yes,” Noli responded when given the opportunity again, “I approached her when I noticed signs that something wasn’t right.” What she said next caused quite a stir among the court, and the heightened tension elicited a loud rebuke from Fleet Captain Vos.

“I asked her if she was taking medication beyond what Starfleet Medical prescribed.” The Bajoran was clearly uncomfortable as her revelation shocked the court. To say she was torn about bringing up the drug use was an understatement, and she’d gone back and forth with Prida on the matter for hours just the night before. Knowing the severe implications it would likely have on Nazir’s career and legacy had prayed on her mind for days, but she kept finding herself back at the one overarching fact – she had to tell the truth, no matter the cost.

At the mere suggestion of drug use, especially anything unauthorised, the tension in the room heightened significantly. There was a noticeable shift in energy as everyone, from spectators to trusted officers, realised the severity of this information. For those from the Lakota, it felt like a betrayal of trust for the XO to out their captain in such a way, but for the neutrals in attendance, her answer simply solidified the suggestion that Nazir’s mental state and her judgement were compromised.

T’Prynn, ever composed, raised a slight eyebrow as she absorbed the tone of the room.

Despite the overwhelming storm of emotions she felt inside, Nazir tried her best to maintain the stoic facade she had so far shown the court. The only change came as she straightened her posture and fixed her eyes forward, refusing to meet Noli’s gaze or the eyes of anyone for that matter. She knew it would come out, of course she did. She wasn’t stupid, and she understood what this likely meant for her case, but she couldn’t show that to the court. Instead, she simply took a deep breath and steeled herself for the inevitable onslaught of questions that would come.

For the Cardassian prosecutor, this was a gift that she couldn’t waste. Sensing the opportunity to strengthen her case, she had to make sure she didn’t appear too hasty or excited and blow the chance to inflict maximum damage. She had to press the point and get the session back on track.

“What was the Captain’s response?” Marten asked once the court had settled.

Noli felt like young Alice as she fell through the proverbial looking glass. “She admitted that she had taken something,” the XO responded, “but assured me it wouldn’t affect her command. She promised it would stop.”

“Did it stop, Commander?”

Noli shook her head. “No. I later discovered that she had continued to self-medicate.”

Another ripple of conversation travelled across the gallery.

“So, despite her promise to stop,” Marten’s tone changed, becoming louder and targeted, “Fleet Captain Nazir continued using unauthorised drugs while in command of the USS Lakota, whilst responsible for over five hundred souls, and during a critical mission?”

“Yes.”

“And what effect, if any, did that have on her decision-making as the mission progressed?” Marten continued her offence, buoyed by the direction events had taken.

Noli took a deep breath. She hated every second of this, and she hoped her colleagues knew that, but the longer this went on, the more difficult that was to believe. “Captain Nazir became increasingly fixated on the threat posed by the True Way,” she answered. “Her decisions were driven out of fear of what might happen rather than by the facts laid out in front of us. She wasn’t listening to her senior officers as she normally would.”

“And do you feel that had Fleet Captain Nazir been in a sound state of mind, the outcome of the mission might have been different?”

“Objection, calls for speculation.” Rising to her feet, the Vulcan defender bought the XO another reprieve. “Commander Noli cannot definitively say what might have happened under different circumstances, as this question asks her to speculate on a hypothetical scenario.”

As far as she was concerned, her logic was sound. After a few seconds of contemplation, Vos agreed with the Vulcan on this particular occasion.

“Sustained. The witness cannot speculate on hypothetical scenarios,” Vos told the court, and looked towards the Cardassian, waiting for her next question.

Marten stood there for a moment and contemplated some additional questions, but at this point, the damage had already been done by Noli. Anything she said now would damage her case, rather than enhance it further.

“No further questions,” she smiled at the Fleet Captain in charge of the hearing and returned to her seat at her desk. With a glance across at the defendant, she couldn’t help but smile.

In the gallery, the hushed conversation returned, with sombre faces looking towards their Captain and her Counsel for answers. Surely they weren’t just going to roll over and let the XO destroy the Captain’s credibility in one session? Nazir, meanwhile, simply stared at her feet, hands nervously clasped together in her lap. Her reputation was now in the gutter, and the damage had been caused by one of the Captain’s own. From her perspective, it didn’t matter what else Marten said, the session couldn’t have gone any worse.

Rising to her feet slowly, every movement measured and calculated, the Vulcan defence Counsel stepped into the crucible to begin her cross-examination of the witness. So far, she had kept her interactions with the court to a minimum. Her interventions occurred strictly as logic dictated, but now the focus had shifted. If she was going to succeed, she had to convince the court that Nazir was a capable and trusted leader who made difficult decisions under extreme pressure and that she should be forgiven.

It would be no easy task.

“Commander Noli, you testified that you were concerned about Fleet Captain Nazir’s use of unauthorised medication during the mission. Is that correct?” the Vulcan asked, starting off slowly to remind everyone present of the earlier testimony.

“Yes,” Noli nodded, “that’s correct.”

Standing as straight as she could, the Vulcan’s glare was fixed on her target. “At the time you became aware of this, did Fleet Captain Nazir continue to perform her duties as commanding officer?” she continued.

“She did, yes.”

A curt single nod and the defence counsel moved on. “Did you observe any immediate lapses in her leadership or decision-making as a result of her use of medication during the initial phase of the mission?”

A moment of hesitation from the Commander on the witness stand almost caused the Vulcan to share her question again, only for the XO to eventually give her answer. “No, not at first. She was still performing as she usually would, so I had no reason to be concerned.”

“So despite her use of medication, she remained capable and in control at the beginning of the mission?”

Rising from her seat, the Cardassian interrupted with her first objection of the session. “Objection, leading the witness.”

Fleet Captain Vos, who until that very moment had seemed a little disinterested as they went over earlier established material, was quickly alive to the objection. She had a point, in his eyes anyway. “Sustained. Counsel, please rephrase the question.” he requested.

“Of course,” T’Prynn nodded respectfully to the tribunal chair. “Commander Noli, how would you describe Fleet Captain Nazir’s performance in the early stages of the mission?”

Noli simply shrugged as she gave her answer. “She was still focused, determined. At first, I didn’t notice anything unusual.”

“Now,” T’Prynn began to wander, the questions coming quickly now. “You mentioned your concerns later in the mission. How did those concerns evolve?”

Noli, on the other hand, started taking a little longer to answer her questions, considering her answers carefully. Perhaps she was in damage limitation mode? “As the situation on Eridanus became more tense, I noticed a shift in her behaviour. She seemed more preoccupied and less willing to listen to counsel from the senior officers.”

“Would you say that this shift occurred in isolation, or could it have been influenced by external pressures, such as the increasing threat from the True Way?” Okay, now they were at the business end of her questioning as she tried to ascertain the part the True Way had played in the Captain’s spiral of decline.

“There were definitely external pressures,” Noli agreed, drawing a nod from the Vulcan. “The stakes were high, and the True Way’s presence heightened the tension,” she elaborated further, referring back to the second part of the Counsel’s question.

“Commander,” the Vulcan looked at the gallery during her next question, not in any attempt to influence them of course. “In your experience, do high-stakes situations often result in elevated stress for commanding officers?”

Noli nodded swiftly and emphatically. “Yes, absolutely. Every captain I’ve served with has had to manage significant stress in combat scenarios. Even myself, in the situations I have faced when in command, whether for short periods or longer.”

“It would be reasonable to say that Fleet Captain Nazir was under immense pressure to protect both a critical military asset and the civilian transports, correct?”

“Yes, she was under a lot of pressure.”

“Would it also be reasonable to suggest that her decisions, while difficult, may have been made in the context of strategic necessity rather than recklessness?”

Again, Noli took some time before giving her response, but when it came, it was simple enough. “It’s possible, yes.”

It had been a few minutes, but Marten was quick to her feet again, leaning across her table and glaring towards the judge. “Objection. Counsel is asking the witness to speculate,” the Cardassian frowned from behind her flowing, black hair.

“Sustained,” Vos was quick in his ruling, “the witness will please limit their responses to direct observations, and Counsel will be more wary of their questioning.”

Naturally, the Vulcan agreed with the Efrosian and nodded in acknowledgement. “Of course, your honour.” She then turned her attention back to the witness stand. “Commander, you testified that Fleet Captain Nazir continued to lead and make decisions during the mission. Can you confirm whether her actions still aligned with Starfleet’s standard command protocols?” That was certainly a lot more to the judge’s liking, even causing him to nod in appreciation of the Vulcan’s efforts.

There was no way Noli was falling into the trap of answering that question without a well-thought-out, yet truthful response. No, she took almost thirty seconds to think through her answer, and in the theatre of the tribunal room, that felt like a lifetime with all eyes on her.

“Most of her decisions did follow protocol,” the Bajoran agreed, “but there were moments where it felt like she wasn’t entirely herself.”

“By ‘not herself,’ are you referring to specific moments of erratic behaviour, or was it more of an overall impression?” T’Prynn’s follow-up was so quick, so smooth, she had most definitely anticipated such an answer.

“It was an overall impression. She seemed distant, and as the mission went on, her focus narrowed and shut her team out of the decision-making process,” Noli answered after a few seconds. “Where she would normally seek suggestions and input, she grew more introverted and relied solely on her own intuition.”

“You’ve served with Fleet Captain Nazir for a while now, correct Commander?”

“Yes,” Noli nodded some more, “through some of the most dangerous and significant periods of recent history.” From the Dominion Invasion of Deneb and beyond, Noli had worked with the Fleet Captain through every crisis that had struck the galaxy, and they had always come out on top.

“Throughout all of those crises, all of your time serving her, would you say that Fleet Captain Nazir has consistently demonstrated her abilities as a strong and capable leader?”

“Yes. She’s been an exceptional leader,” Noli answered swiftly. “She wouldn’t have been promoted for a start…”

“Would you say that her actions during the mission to Eridanus were out of character, based on your previous experience with her?”

“They were different from what I’ve seen in the past. She’s always been composed under pressure, but this time,” she paused, looking down at her feet before mumbling, “this time, it was harder for her.”

“So it is possible that external pressures, both the deteriorating situation on Eridanus and the threat from the True Way, played a significant role in her decision-making during this time?”

“Your honour,” Marten was on her feet again, practically pleading with the judge. “Objection. Counsel is again asking the witness to speculate, despite being asked not to.”

Vos let out a sigh and was forced to agree with the prosecution. “Sustained. Captain T’Prynn, a final reminder to refrain from asking speculative questions.”

Nodding, the Vulcan continued unfazed. “Thank you, Fleet Captain Vos.” She then turned to the Commander, “Commander, you testified earlier that you became aware of Fleet Captain Nazir’s unauthorised drug use. Is that correct?”

At that question, Noli looked a little bemused. Why would T’Prynn be rehashing the same question? Still, she had to answer.

“Yes.”

“And after you confronted her about it, she promised to stop?”

“Yes, she did.”

Standing beside the witness stand again, the Vulcan looked as perplexed as she possibly could. “But you chose not to report it at that time. An illogical move. Why is that?”

Noli hesitated in her response longer than she had to any of the previous questions. “I trusted her. She’s always been someone I could rely on, and I believed her when she said she could, and would, stop on her own.”

Nodding, T’Prynn moved on. “And in your professional judgement, did you believe Fleet Captain Nazir was still capable of commanding the mission, despite her personal struggles?”

“Yes, I did,” Noli answered honestly, at the time, I thought she could manage it…

…I was wrong.”

A massive streak of light stretched across the night sky, thousands of kilometres above the sleeping towns that littered her varying terrains, as the USS Lakota emerged from her warp tunnel and entered position to commence her mission. Within seconds of her arrival, subspace transceivers went into overload as the crew pleaded for contact with anyone from the planet’s surface. While their pleas fell on deaf ears, sensors scanned far and wide for answers to the first mystery they had uncovered. A world teeming with life and an abundance of activity had fallen to silence. There were no energy readings, no communication signals, no signs of life at all – just complete, unnerving silence. Eridanus, it seemed, had become something of an enigma.

And it wasn’t just Eridanus, either. Across the heavens, as far as the web of sensors could see, not so much as a molecule of space dust was out of place. Not so much as a trace that anyone had so much as travelled the stars nearby, let alone created a life for themselves on the beautiful world below.

As hours passed and the investigation failed to yield any answers, rumours began to spread among the Starfleet crew, the kind that could be destabilising and even deadly. Perhaps the True Way had attacked and killed everyone? Or maybe the new Maquis had caused an uprising that ended badly? Perhaps there had been a natural disaster that had killed everyone that the ship and crew were unable to detect.

Standing at the window of her bedroom, Keziah found herself relishing the calmness of the stars beyond the hull, wishing that she could find even a modicum of such calm, but such serenity had long since abandoned her. Glaring at the chronometer across the room, she frowned. It was coming up on six hours since they had arrived, and they were still getting no closer to the truth. Staring at the reflection in the glass before her, she no longer felt shocked by the vacant, lifeless expression that glared back at her, a figurative shadow of her former self. She couldn’t even try and recall when she’d last felt herself. This was the new her; she was almost resigned to that fact.

Plunging her hands into the pockets of her trousers, her posture weakened, and her attention started to drift to an object she rolled between the fingers of her left hand. As it rolled, a gentle, almost rhythmic rattle emanated from her pocket. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the unopened plastic cylinder from her pocket and lifted it to her eyeline. She didn’t even remember putting her pills in her pocket, let alone taking as many as the near-empty tub suggested she had. Was it any wonder she’d had to resort to taking such pills to maintain some sense of normality? After everything they’d been through? After everything she had put them through? In the last year, they had dealt with crisis after crisis, and so what if she needed help to manage things? Sure, she’d taken a few more than Zinn had suggested and had maybe become a bit over-reliant on them in the past few months, but that was then. In the here and now, she was more than capable of controlling herself.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sound of her commbadge, which lay on the glass coffee table in the residence area of her quarters. Looking out into the residence area, she waited for the shrill beep again before heading out of her bedroom. On her way, she placed the bottle and its lid on the dresser.

Reaching the table, she took the badge in her hand and pressed it between her fingers and thumb. “Nazir here,” she answered.

“Captain,” it was Noli. “Please report to the bridge. There’s been a… development.”

Keziah winced as she made the adjustment from the dim lighting of the turbo lift to the bright operational lighting of the bridge. Gamma shift was still on duty, with Lieutenant Voran in command for the week’s rotation, which was why the tired Trill was somewhat confused by the XO’s spritely presence at such an hour.

Noticing the Captain’s arrival, Noli moved across to the port turbo lift and gave her apologies. “I wouldn’t have called you but sensors have detected something unsettling,” the Bajoran stood aside and gestured for Nazir to join them at the tactical station. “We’ve found evidence of faint traces of disrupted energy particles, likely to be remnants of weapon discharges from past skirmishes along the former border area,” Noli told before handing over to the Vulcan operations officer.

“Further analysis shows that the composition matches the energy signatures typically associated with Cardassian disruptors,” he told her. “Scans of the area show no sign of vessels currently, and the signatures we have detected are a significant distance from Eridanus,” the Vulcan concluded his honest assessment, hoping to put the Captain at ease. It didn’t work.

“We cannot rule out the possibility of their presence somewhere we cannot detect,” Nazir frowned, folding her arms across her chest. “The fact that Eridanus has gone silent before you detected these weapons traces suggests they’ve either been destroyed, or the True Way could be hiding there, ready to ambush any unsuspecting Federation ship coming their way…” the Trill trailed off as she turned and looked towards the viewer. Her words worried the XO, and even Voran raised an eyebrow, surprised at the Captain’s supposition.

“Captain,” Noli spoke in a hushed tone, “I really don’t think we should jum…”

“We’ll be ready for them,” Nazir told proudly, ignoring the XO and stepping towards the command chairs. “We won’t fall into their trap. Red alert! Raise shields and have weapons charged and ready,” the Trill instructed firmly, much to Noli’s exasperation.

“Captain. There is really no need for us…”

“Are you disobeying my orders, Number One?” the Captain scolded the Bajoran, a look that could freeze even the warmest of climates accompanying her words.

Standing upright, the Bajoran glared at the smaller woman and shook her head. Never, in all her time as an XO, had she been accused of questioning or ignoring the orders of her commanding officer. “No Captain. Absolutely not,” she confirmed.

“Good,” Nazir smiled, then slipped into her command chair. “Prepare a series of probes. I want to gather as much data about the planet as we can before we get there. They’ll help us detect any True Way presence down there, and we can be ready for them.”

“As you wish,” Noli nodded, and then slowly made her way across the bridge to Voran, the pair sharing a concerned look. “We’ll do as ordered,” Noli whispered, “and when the results come back and prove what we suspect, she’ll stand down. I know she will,” the Bajoran tapped the man gently on the shoulder, mustering the best smile she could, all while keeping her fingers crossed that she was right.

Two hours later Nazir was pacing the bridge uncomfortably. The entire senior staff had been summoned by the red alert she had called for, and all had been brought up to speed by the XO. All seemed perplexed at the Captain’s decision-making but agreed to go along with the XO in the hope that Nazir was wrong. Once the telemetry from the first probe had come in, they were all downbeat. The results of its scans had been inconclusive thanks to the weather. So too had been the results from the second, and then the third. Only when the fourth came did Noli heave a sigh of relief. Not so much as a trace of Cardassian material anywhere on the planet’s surface.

“Permission to stand down from red alert, Captain?” she asked, watching the Trill with great caution.

“What? No,” Nazir stopped in her tracks at the foot of the starboard ramp and looked towards the XO. “Just because our sensors didn’t detect them doesn’t mean they aren’t there,” the Captain warned her right-hand woman. It was then that she noticed several pairs of eyes on her, in a way that she didn’t like.

“Listen here,” she called out, “something has made that planet go suddenly silent, and I believe that True Way is involved. We proceed as ordered. Do I make myself clear?” she instructed.

A tense hush had descended on the bridge the crew silent as Noli stepped forward and looked down at the Trill.

“Absolutely crystal clear,” the Bajoran told her Captain, mimicking the tone the Trill had used.

“Excellent,” and just like that, the Captain’s whole demeanour changed as she slipped into her command chair once again, and watched the stars streak by on the main viewer.

Watching from a safe distance, the XO was more convinced than ever that something wasn’t quite right with their captain, though what it was, she couldn’t say.

The atmosphere in the courtroom was cold, far colder than Fleet Captain Keziah Nazir had anticipated as she took to the stand. As she walked past the members of the gallery, she could almost feel them casting their own aspersions, their own judgements, even before she had spoken any words of her own. Could she be certain she would get a fair trial here? Vos had assured her she would, but as her second session prepared to kick off, she couldn’t help but wonder if her fate was already sealed.

Captain Kerina Marten stood across from her, a predatory gleam in her eyes as she held the case file data PADD in one hand, ready to pounce. Every move she made, every glance she gave, was perfectly in keeping with how she intended the session to go. This, the Cardassian believed, would be the time that Nazir would put the final nail in her proverbial coffin.

“Fleet Captain Nazir,” Marten finally began, her voice crisp and unyielding, “your report clearly states that during the mission to Eridanus, your priority was the protection of a critical military base. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” Nazir nodded, her hands folded neatly in front of her, steady enough. For now. “The base held sensitive intelligence. I couldn’t allow it to fall into enemy hands,” the Trill confirmed, her gaze never drifting from the Counsel, not even for a nanosecond.

Marten took a step forward, her gaze locked with Nazir’s. “And this base, you believed, was the target of the True Way?”

Nazir’s eyes flicked momentarily toward Captain T’Prynn, her defence counsel, before being drawn back to Marten. “That’s right.”

The prosecutor paused, glancing down at the file in her hand. A heavy silence stretched through the room, thick with anticipation. She was clearly focusing on something she’d read, and that had piqued everyone’s curiosity.

“Tell me, Fleet Captain,” Marten continued, her voice lower now, and far more menacing, “were any of your senior officers aware of this base’s existence?”

After hours of travel, and the continued frustrations of the Captain, Lakota had finally arrived in orbit of Eridanus. Intense scans had so far turned up nothing, no reason at all for the communication’s blackout, yet still they couldn’t raise the planet. The only reading on their sensors were civilian transports on the extreme edge of sensor range, but that wasn’t enough for Nazir, though. She continued to grow more anxious with every passing moment of silence from the surface. There had to be someone down there, someone in the Starfleet base. Tapping in some coordinates on the arm of her chair, she ordered intense scans of the northern hemisphere, to identify the base’s location.

As asked, both Voran and Commander Teyahna scanned the coordinates that the Captain had sent them. Both failed to turn up anything.

“Captain,” Teyahna turned in her chair and took a deep breath, composing herself, “I’m not seeing any evidence of a base on our scans. Are you sure there’s something here, ma’am?” the Orion asked, as respectfully as she could, taking into full account the Captain’s… odd behaviour.

Rising from her chair, the Trill practically sprinted from the command area and joined Voran and Henry in the forward positions.

“I know it’s there, Commander. It’s just hidden,” she revealed, leaning forward to tap on Mitchell’s station, “likely buried deep beneath the surface, shielded from our sensors. We can’t let the True Way get their hands on it.”

Noli shook her head slowly, only stopping when she made eye contact with Teyahna, who looked more than a little concerned about the Captain’s instance of the base’s existence. Pushing herself out of her chair, the XO descended a few steps and came to a halt beside Nazir. Lowering her voice, the Bajoran leant slightly towards the senior officer’s position.

“Captain,” she whispered, “there’s nothing in our mission briefings about a facility on Eridanus. Surely Starfleet would have informed us if there was something this important—“

“They didn’t inform us because they couldn’t risk it being leaked,” Nazir remained steadfast, resolute, focused on her target. “Trust me. We’re sitting on one of the most crucial assets in the sector.”

Pacing the floor between dock and bench, Marten carefully considered her next question. “You were certain that this base existed, even though none of your senior officers had any knowledge of it?”

To her credit, Nazir remained as stoic as ever. “I was operating under classified intelligence. I couldn’t share everything with my crew, but the base was real. I know it was.” Given her tone, it was hard to think anything other than she believed what she said. 

“I see,” Marten nodded slowly, and then tapped on her PADD before waving it in the air. “Fleet Captain,” the Cardassian smiled, “according to Starfleet’s official records, no such base existed on Eridanus.” Was this it, the smoking gun that sealed the Trill’s fate?

T’Prynn swiftly rose to her feet behind the Defence Counsel’s desk. “Objection,” she called out. “Speculative. The witness may have had access to intelligence outside of the scope of standard reports.” Her objection was unlikely to be accepted, she knew that, but it did as intended and bought her client some much-needed breathing space.

Despite the desired intent behind her objection, Fleet Captain Vos considered her words for a minute before ruling. “Overruled. Proceed, Captain Marten.”

Pressing home her attack, the Cardassian stepped forward and leaned on the table in front of the defendant. 

“Fleet Captain Nazir,” she addressed the woman clearly, “if this base was never part of Starfleet’s operations, how do you explain the decision to prioritise it over the safety of the civilians?”

Even an hour later, scan after scan had concluded there was no hidden base on the planet’s surface, just as her staff had told her. Most had grown weary, and begun to go about their usual day-to-day business (albeit a lot earlier than intended), some trying to master the art of sleeping with their eyes open to avoid detection. Lauren Mitchell, the younger of the Mitchell siblings, was almost dropping off at tactical when her station beeped furiously.

“Captain,” she called out, full of tension and concern, “we’re getting calls from the civilian transports—they’re under fire!”

“We need to hold our position,” Nazir shook her head firmly. “If the base falls, this entire region could be destabilised. Inform the transports that they should close distance with us, and we’ll support them once they enter weapons range,” the Trill never once removed her gaze from the sensor readings of the planet below.

For Noli, she had seen enough. Looking across at Teyahna, Mitchell and co, she knew she had to do something. “Captain, I must protest. We’ve found no evidence of this base. We have to break orbit and protect the transports!” She hoped her words would be enough to see the Captain snap out of whatever daze she was in, but the Trill was practically glued to the spot.

“No,” the Captain shook her head again, “the base is here. If we lose it, we lose the sector…”

Standing all smug, like the Vole who’d got the cream, Marten smiled, clearly enjoying the unease the defendant felt as she delivered her next question. “Fleet Captain Nazir,” she addressed her target again, “did it ever occur to you that this base—this so-called vital asset—might not have existed?”

And now, under the questioning of the prosecution attorney, Nazir showed the first sign of faltering. Beads of sweat formed on her spotted brow as she absorbed the Captain’s words. Her hands grew clammy and she was visibly shaken.

“I… I was sure it was there. The intelligence I received—it was…”

Interrupting the defendant, the Cardassian surged forward like the tidal waves of the Century Storm. “Do you believe it’s possible that your state of mind—under stress, and with the use of unauthorised medication—may have caused you to imagine a threat that wasn’t real?”

T’Prynn had seen enough. She wasn’t going to let her client be verbally battered on the stand, no matter how guilty she may or may not have been. “Objection!” she barked, rising to her feet. “The prosecution is leading the witness and assuming facts not in evidence.”

Vos, as impartial as ever, felt a tinge of sadness for his peer. Leaning forward, he gave his response in a stern, gravelly voice. “Sustained. Captain Marten, rephrase your question,” he ordered her.

Reigned back in for the moment, Marten nodded respectfully then turned back to her victim. “Fleet Captain,” she’d lowered her voice now and seemed a little more… human? “Is it possible that the decision to defend this base was influenced by something other than intelligence?”

In the gallery, for the first time since the Captain had taken the stand, Noli struggled to watch. She’d done this to her Captain. She’d put the Trill in this position, to be publicly mauled by the prosecutor. She could see how much her friend was struggling, and so could everyone else in the gallery. It was uncomfortable viewing for someone so well respected.

“I… I don’t know. I believed it was real. It felt real,” the Trill tried her best to answer.

“And that belief cost the lives of hundreds of civilians,” Marten barked, the momentary glimpse of empathy evaporating in an instant, “didn’t it?”

Tears welled in the corner of Keziah’s eyes, the woman a broken shell of the Captain who had taken the stand earlier in the day.

“I made the choice I thought was right at the time,” she spoke in a hushed tone, her despair clear for all to see, “but I was wrong,” she admitted at last.

With a sinister glare at her target, the prosecution counsel did everything in her power to hide the satisfaction she felt.

“No further questions, Fleet Captain.”

Fleet Captain Kelvan Vos, Overseer of the great trial of Nazir, had been resolute in his task to keep the trial as fair and impartial as he could, but not even the ageing Efrosian could stand watching a woman he respected getting so utterly dismantled by the prosecution. He’d needed a recess, so he was sure Nazir needed it, too. He’d retired to his private quarters, where he would make his deliberations in the coming hours, and had taken the time to freshen up for the rest of the hearing. With time against them, he was almost certain they would end up adjourning to the following day, but he would do everything in his power to ensure Nazir had a resolution, one way or another, as soon as she could. He didn’t need to be a counsellor to see the toll recent events had played on her and for it all to be dragged up in front of a bipartisan crowd had to be gut-wrenching.

When he returned to the bench, gallery and judicial teams alike stood before him, he was happy to note that the Fleet Captain looked a little more steeled than she had before. Even if the case went the way he suspected, he didn’t want her to be destroyed as a result. She’d done too much and earned too much respect for that to happen.

Slipping back into his chair, he slammed the wooden gavel against its plate, and the session resumed. Captain Marten was instantaneously back on her feet, ready to press home her attack one last time.

“Fleet Captain Nazir,” she began, all refreshed and focused, “you’ve explained that you were acting to protect a military base during the mission to Eridanus. However, the evidence clearly shows that this base never existed. Isn’t it true that you were prioritising a delusion over the lives of your crew and the civilians under your protection?”

Keziah shook her head, eyes focused on the prosecutor. When she spoke, her words were loud and clear again. “I made a decision based on the intelligence I believed to be credible at the time,” she explained clearly, “It was not a delusion.”

Marten pursed her lips and nodded slowly as she took a few steps towards the Captain’s table. Another denial, of course. She’d have to go harder.

“But there was no military base, was there?” she asked, looking the diminutive Trill square in the face. “The only thing at stake during that mission was the lives of innocent civilians—civilians you left to die because of your unfounded paranoia.”

There wasn’t a dry palm in the house as staff across the bridge watched in horror as the captain and first officer squared off in the middle of the command centre. All the while, events unfolded around them that threatened everything the Federation had worked so hard to achieve. The red alert klaxon had long since faded into background noise as the unbelievable back and forth between the two senior-most officers engulfed the entire bridge.

Noli waved her right arm at the view screen, urging the Captain to reconsider her course of action. Panic had gripped her, her voice betraying her emotions with every word.

“Captain, please! They’re targeting the transports. They’re firing on unarmed ships!” the Bajoran pleaded, glaring at the captain, who never faltered.

Instead, Nazir remained fixated, her eyes never leaving the Operations console she’d circumvented from Voran. “I’ve told you, no. We can’t divert resources. The base needs to be protected,” her words were clear and unwavering.

Noli took a step towards the Captain, demonstrating an emotion somewhere between exasperation and anger. Those around them were so worried that Noli might even lay her hands on the captain that Prida practically flew down the steps to ensure that things couldn’t turn physical.

At the CONN, Henry decided he needed to support the XO. He’d never turn on his captain, but even he had to admit that things were not as they seemed. “There is no base, Captain. You have to see that. We need to break orbit and help those civilians,” he whispered, leaning across towards the Trill, trying his best to appeal to her.

Taking a deep breath, the Trill did her best to hide her faltering voice. “At the time, I believed the base was real. I believed that allowing it to fall would lead to even greater devastation,” she explained to everyone in attendance.

“But it didn’t exist!” Marten barked back, showing her first signs of frustration from her line of questioning. How could she continue to stand her ground in such a way? “It didn’t exist and because of that belief, hundreds of civilians died. Isn’t that correct?” the prosecutor argued again, her tone much sterner this time.

Taking a deep breath, Keziah closed her eyes. For a moment, she was back on the Lakota bridge, in a sort of disembodied state, observing the chaos from her ghost-like position, all eyes staring at her as she refused to alter course. Noli argued her case, Henry pleaded with her, Prida tried her best to calm the situation whilst everyone else looked on in horror. It was a disaster, and it was of her making, so when she opened her eyes again and glared at the Cardassian, she gave the desired, perhaps unexpected response.

“Yes,” she admitted at last.

Realising her case was close to collapse if she allowed this line of questioning to go unanswered, T’Prynn swiftly rose to her feet. She’d resolved to help her defendant as much as possible, so she wasn’t going to let her hang herself, guilty or not.

“Objection,” the Vulcan called out, then swiftly elaborated for the judge. “The prosecution is framing the witness’s actions in a negative context without considering the extreme stress of the mission at hand.”

Perhaps he was letting his feelings get the better of him, but Fleet Captain Vos agreed on this occasion. “Sustained. Captain Marten, rephrase your question.”

And for the first time, Marten felt like the case might not go entirely her way after all. Taking a deep breath, she nodded in Vos’ direction and thought of a way to rephrase. “Fleet Captain Nazir,” her tone lowered again, “do you believe that your state of mind, exacerbated by unauthorised medication, led you to prioritise an imagined threat over the actual dangers your crew was facing?” Inwardly, she was proud of that. She felt she’d skewered the defendant worse than she had before.

Nazir hesitated for a minute, exchanging glances with her counsel before answering. “I can’t deny that my mind was under pressure,” she answered, “but I acted based on what I believed to be in the best interest of the Federation.”

Over the din of voices arguing their case, officers from across the departmental divide falling into line one way or another, a shrill beeping at tactical drew the attention of the staff.

“Captain! They’ve destroyed the first transport! More are coming under fire,” Mitchell reported, her hands dancing over the controls as she made sense of what she was seeing. Make sense? How the hell was she going to make sense of any of this?

“Captain Nazir!” Noli barked angrily, shrugging free of Prida’s grasp and standing just inches from the Captain’s fragile frame. “We need to act now. If we don’t, everyone out there will be lost.”

Nazir remained silent, fixated on the operations station.

“Keziah…” Noli whispered, dropping her voice to the quietest she could, “Don’t do this. Don’t be remembered this way…”

For the first time in what felt like hours, Nazir’s eyes flickered. Slowly but surely, she cocked her head and looked into the watering eyes of her executive officer.

“Divert all power to shields and weapons,” she instructed firmly, “Henry, move to defend the transports.”

As Noli heaved a sigh of relief and turned with her Captain to return to their command seats, common sense prevailing at last, the silence was almost deafening.

Standing at the tactical rail, having abandoned her post, Lieutenant Mitchell shook her head slowly. “I’m sorry ma’am,” she choked back tears as she delivered her report, “but it’s too late…”

“Fleet Captain Nazir, despite your epiphany at the eleventh hour, your judgment—clouded by medication, stress, and paranoia—led to the deaths of hundreds of civilians…”

There was a stunned silence in the courtroom as Marten delivered her parting blow.

“The reality is that you were unfit for command, and as a result, lives were lost. I rest my case, your honour.”

Stepping back to her table, the Cardassian showed the first signs of humanity that she had shown all day, shaking her head slowly as she, like the rest of the tribunal, like the defendant herself, was left to process the enormity of the civilian loss, and the case she had just proven to the best of her ability.

All except Captain T’Prynn, however. Being a Vulcan, she had no reason to weigh the facts presented to her any more than she already had. Her job now was as it had been all session; to assist her client to the best of her ability.

Rising to her feet, the Vulcan calmly, stoically, approached the stand.

“Fleet Captain Nazir,” she began her cross-examination, “you have spoken about the intense stress you were under during the mission to Eridanus. Would you describe for the tribunal the psychological, personal toll that previous missions have taken on you?” It was, perhaps, odd to hear a Vulcan stress the impact of events on a personal level, but she had to humanise the situation and give her client every possible chance of coming out of this unscathed.

Taking a sip of water from the glass in front of her, the Fleet Captain took a moment to compose herself. Then, nodding slowly, she went into detail on everything that had happened to her since the Dominion had invaded the Deneb sector. She told them about assuming command of the Hathaway and being injured during the ship’s mission to capture Thot Rodyn, to then learn that her previous command, the Nogura, had been destroyed by a Breen battlegroup. She talked about having to watch as her new XO at the time led the ship in its efforts to liberate the homeworld of one of their crew, at great personal cost to the ship. Then there had been the Frontier Day debacle, the constant threat of Changeling infiltration, and the assimilation of younger crew members that had caused the loss of so many friends and family across the Federation, including Chiera, Udraa, Varru and Bachmann. Weeks later there had been the losses in the former demilitarised zone, and the chaos of the Underspace situation. Every event, and all the smaller ones in between, had taken their toll on the Trill, and as she recounted to the court, everyone, even the Cardassian

“The toll was immense,” she looked across at the Vulcan sadly, “I lost colleagues, friends. The pressure to stay vigilant… it became overwhelming at times.”

“And despite all of that, you remained in command, leading your crew through countless dangerous and high-stakes missions,” the Vulcan added quickly.

“Yes,” Nazir nodded, taking the opportunity to look into the gallery for the first time and note some of the reactions to her testimony. To say there were mixed reactions was an overstatement, but at least the court was no longer locked in against her. If she could sway the gallery, perhaps there was hope that the judge could be swayed also.

Back to the matter at hand, the Vulcan looked deadpan as she asked her next question. “Did you believe, at the time of the Eridanus mission, that you were acting in the best interest of Starfleet and the Federation?”

Taking a deep breath, the Trill answered firmly, with more conviction than she had shown before. “Yes, I did.”

“Captain Marten has suggested that your actions were reckless and that you were unfit for command,” T’Prynn turned and addressed the court, trying to win over more of the gallery with her words. “Do you believe that your judgment was impaired by stress or medication during the mission?” she asked the defendant.

Hesitating, Keziah took a moment to formulate a clear answer that wouldn’t undo the positive momentum they seemed to be building. “My judgment was strained, yes. I can’t deny that,” she answered, “but I acted with the information I had, and I believed my decisions were necessary to protect the sector. I see, now, that I was wrong.”

“Thank you Fleet Captain Nazir,” the Vulcan nodded respectfully to her client and then turned to the judge. “The defence rests,” she then confirmed to the judge.

“Fleet Captain Nazir,” Vos spoke, looking across at the Trill. “I understand that process must have been difficult for you. Before the tribunal adjourns for the day, do you have any final words?”

Rising to her feet, Nazir composed herself. Her hands clasped tightly behind her back, she looked at Vos, rather than the courtroom.

“I accept full responsibility for the lives lost. I made the decisions I thought would protect the Federation. I never intended for this outcome, and I would do things very differently if I knew then what I know now. I only ask that you consider my record and my dedication to Starfleet when making your deliberations.”

“So noted,” Fleet Captain Vos nodded in appreciation of his colleague’s words. “This court is now adjourned for today. We will reconvene tomorrow at zero-nine-hundred.” With a single, loud smash of his gavel upon the base plate, the session came to an end.

Watching as the gallery started to clear, Fleet Captain Nazir tried her best to focus on the faces she knew, exchanging glances with the few people who would make eye contact with her. When she eventually, some would say inevitably, locked eyes with Noli, the Captain wasn’t sure how she would feel. But in that moment, a great sense of clarity swept over her.

“Captain T’Prynn,” she called to her Counsel. When the Vulcan approached the bench, the Trill lowered her voice and leant towards her.

“I need to speak with Fleet Captain Vos…”

Peace had been hard to come by in recent days, even in the late hours where she had been able to get into a REM cycle, so finding things to occupy her had proven critical in staying refreshed. Strolling the promenade of Deep Space 11 had brought a surprising respite the evening following the trial, and damn did she need some respite. Ever since she’d learned that she’d been called to give testimony, right up to the moment she finished (and every intervening moment between), Noli Auru had probably felt every emotion conceivable. From the sadness and guilt of betraying her friend to the elation of her part in the process being complete, the last few days had been an emotional whirlwind and had certainly threatened to take their toll. It was only now that she could understand her friend’s (or was it now former friend) need for medication to help her deal with the wealth of emotions she felt.

Sitting on a bench looking out over the stars that blanketed the night sky, was it possible that Noli had come to regret the actions she had taken? Nazir had always been ruled by her emotions, which had been clear since their first days on the ship, and while a tragic turn of events had led them to this, maybe she should have been more understanding of the Trill’s plight. Maybe all of this could have been avoided if she had been a bit more proactive with Doctor Zinn, and prevented him from giving the Captain her medication when she found out about it. Maybe she should have had the Doctor relieve the Captain of duty when it was clear she was making rash decisions, but with that bordering on mutiny, it would have required some sheer fucking hubris to make that kind of call. She should have done something. Hindsight though, as Prida would often remind her, was a wonderful thing.

Startled by a sudden clash of metal on metal disturbing her peace, Noli turned swiftly and watched another proprietor close for the evening. It was then, out of the corner of her eye, that she caught sight of a familiar face approaching from the turbo lift further down the promenade deck. As the figure drew closer and it became clear they were headed specifically towards her, the Bajoran rose to her feet and tugged on the hem of her uniform jacket, pulling out the creases so her uniform looked as presentable as it could, even if she looked worse for wear.

“Commander Noli,” the tall, imposing Efrosian addressed the woman in the deep, commanding tone she had heard throughout the day. Fleet Captain Vos stopped close to the considerably younger woman and gestured for her to resume her seat on the bench, sliding into the open space beside her.

“Good evening sir,” Noli smiled, unnerved by the sudden, unexpected appearance of the Fleet Captain. But as she retook her seat, it dawned on her that perhaps it wasn’t sudden or to be unexpected given this was his station and his command.

“You’ve found one of my favourite spots on the whole station,” Kelvan smiled from behind his incredibly pristine, straightened, ivory hair. “From this window,” he gestured in front of them, “you can see all of the traffic to and from the station, not to mention you get a glorious sunrise in the morning,” he placed his hands on his knees and leant forward taking in the view, the same way he often did.

Opting for silence to appreciate the setting they were in, it was as if the Captain knew exactly what to mention and when. Right on cue, Lakota came into view, its standard orbit position several hundred meters away would be in focus for at least the next few minutes. The ship’s presence seemed to cause some unrest for the ageing Efrosian, who let out a wistful sigh.

“The tribunal is over,” he finally spoke, his eyes never leaving the viewport ahead of them.

That wasn’t what she had expected to hear, and the look on her face probably betrayed that feeling to the Captain. “I’m sorry sir. I thought we were due back in the morning?” she asked.

“I’ve just come from a meeting with Fleet Captain Nazir,” he continued in his comforting drawl. “Starfleet Command offered her a deal, which she has accepted.”

A deal? Well, that was good, right? Everything she had read in the past, where deals had been struck between parties in any kind of negotiation, it generally meant there was some sort of positive result for all involved. Even after everything, she hoped more than anything that the Captain would get a favourable outcome.

“Captain Nazir has accepted an offer to travel to Caelum Station and undergo a period of rehabilitation and psychological evaluation. It looks like it could be a lengthy process, but when she comes out the other side she’ll be able to return to service,” the Efrosian revealed, his shoulders relaxing a little as he turned to glance at the Bajoran.

Tears formed in the corner of her eyes, a wave of relief hitting her as the positive outcome she hoped for was revealed; thankfully, the Captain’s career wasn’t over and after a period of rehab, she’d be back in the centre seat.

That begged an important question, and while she didn’t expect it to be her, it still needed to be asked. “Who’ll be in command until she returns?” she posed the question when composed enough.

“Captain Nazir won’t be returning,” the Efrosian revealed. Noticing the look of confusion on the Bajoran’s face, he felt the need to elaborate further. “As part of her plea, Nazir has relinquished command of the Lakota and accepted a voluntary demotion to Captain. She’ll no longer be in command of the squadron, and she’ll not be returning to the ship.”

Rising to her feet, the Bajoran stumbled to the viewport ahead of them and placed her hands on the window frame to steady herself. Her eyes welled as the realisation of the heavy price the Captain had paid hit her.

“This is all my fault,” Noli whispered, her head lowered and shaking from side to side. “I should have done more to help her. I could have acted quicker to prevent things from escalating, could have reported things sooner…”

“Yes you could have,” Vos answered bluntly, “but you put your trust in your commanding officer, as any good executive officer should. She let you down. She let you both down. And she let Starfleet down. She knew a price had to be paid, and she paid it.” He rose to his feet now and joined the Bajoran at the viewer.

“Several years ago, I attended a symposium chaired by the legendary Admiral Jean-Luc Picard,” he let out a smile as memories of the past flooded back to him. “He said something that day which has always stuck with me, even on that bench today. He said that ‘The first duty of every Starfleet officer is to the truth, whether it’s scientific truth or historical truth or personal truth. It is the guiding principle on which Starfleet is based,” he turned to the younger Bajoran, who was clearly struggling with her own emotions right now and placed a hand on her shoulder. “And if you can’t find it within yourself to stand up and tell the truth about what happened, you don’t deserve to wear that uniform.”

Turning back to the window, the Efrosian watched as Lakota moved out of sight. “What you did today was hard, and came at great detriment to yourself. I’ve already heard whisperings of discontent among your crew, I saw the way some shunned you in the courtroom. You’ve lost their confidence, and you’ve lost your Captain. But you did your duty today… no matter the cost to yourself.”

“Perhaps the cost was too high on this occasion?” Noli shook her head and returned to the seat behind them. How could she possibly reconcile with the fact that performing her duty had cost the crew she cared so much about so dearly?

“Captain Nazir didn’t think so,” Vos said, spinning on his heels with his hands on his hips, staring down at the confused Bajoran. “There’s something for you in her quarters,” he smiled, then placed his hand on her shoulder, a reassuring squeeze before departing.

Watching as Vos departed, the Bajoran couldn’t help but wonder what could be waiting for her in the Captain’s quarters. Of course, there was only one way to find out.

A piercing light shone through the darkness as the doors to Captain Nazir’s quarters on deck two, section thirteen gamma fizzed open and granted entrance to the Bajoran XO. Ordinarily, she’d never be granted access, but as the most senior officer on the ship in the Captain’s absence, it was apparent that nowhere was off limits.

“Computer,” Noli called out, taking a step into Keziah’s private abode, “lights.” 

A single beep later and a bright luminescence illuminated the Captain’s chambers, or what was left of them anyway. Gone were the delightfully stitched throw rugs Nazir had received as a gift from Or’uil’s people upon liberating their homeworld. All the trinkets and ornaments that had beautifully adorned every surface had vanished, leaving nothing, not even the slightest of dust patches to mark their former territory. In fairness, the place was almost immaculate. Gone were the data PADDs that were strewn all over her coffee table. Cushions were strategically placed on the sofa and chairs, no longer scattered randomly. Chairs around the nearby dining table were tucked in. The room looked as if it was ready for its next occupant. And as a single tear stained her cheek, the Commander realised that she wasn’t ready for this. She had no choice, but she wasn’t ready for Nazir to be gone.

Unsure of what she was looking for, the Bajoran stood in the middle of the living space and looked around in a state of confusion. There was nothing she could see waiting for her, nothing the Captain had supposedly left behind.

Wait. Nothing but a single red light flickering on the wall-mounted display, next to a simple instruction. ‘Play Recording’.

Perching on the edge of the sofa, the Commander braced herself for whatever message the recording would play. Her hands supported her, grasping the sofa on either side as she took a deep breath. When she was ready, the woman looked up, as if she was searching the heavens for answers.

“Computer, play recording.”

As soon as the recording began, Noli was in a battle to control her emotions.

To my dear friend Auru,

Even after everything she’d done to her, Keziah still felt able to use her given name, something only two others had ever felt comfortable or safe enough to do. She still cared about her, after everything.

If you’re listening to this message then my time on the Lakota has come to an end and there will be no further proceedings; the tribunal is over, and so with it the torment we have both felt.

After some difficult conversations with Starfleet Command, I decided to voluntarily step down and accept a demotion. I know this news will come as a shock, but please understand that I did this for myself, for Starfleet, and for you, my friend. The truth is, I couldn’t allow the trial to continue dragging us all through the mud. It wouldn’t have been fair on any of us—least of all the crew. And after seeing you on the stand today, I couldn’t bear the thought of putting you through more of that torture.

Tears were in free fall as the Bajoran wiped them using the sleeve of her uniform jacket, listening to her friend’s heartfelt words, and the sorrow in her voice.

You have always stood by me, Auru, even when I know it wasn’t easy. I want you to know that I hold no ill will towards you my friend, not for a single moment. I know what I put you through—what I put all of you through—and still, you remained the steadfast leader this ship needed. I’m proud of everything we accomplished together; from the earliest days on the Lakota, through every battle and every hard-won victory, you were there. You weren’t just my executive officer—you became my confidant, my closest friend, and for that, I will forever be grateful.

As the tears turned to gentle sobbing, the doors to the Captain’s quarters parted and a figure wandered inside, looking, searching for something. When she spotted Noli sobbing on the sofa, Prida rushed over and threw her arms around her kin, holding her and soothing her, as they listened to the Captain’s message together.

Somewhere along the line, I forgot that, and things went wrong. I wish I could undo the harm I caused, but I can’t. No amount of apologies could ever forgive what I’ve done to you all. You deserved better from me. Starfleet deserved better. The crew… they deserved better. But I hope, despite it all, that you can look back at our time together with pride because I know I do. We faced some of the hardest moments any Starfleet officer could face, and you stood tall through it all. You were the rock that held this crew together when I could no longer be that for them.

I wish I could tell you all of this in person, but I won’t be there when you get this letter. I’ve been placed on indefinite medical leave, and I’ll be starting my rehabilitation at Caelum Station soon. It’s for the best, I think. There’s a lot I need to come to terms with—things I’ve been avoiding for too long. But that’s not the only reason I’m writing to you. There’s something important you should know.

Auru, you are going to be a Captain.

Leaning away from her friend, the two looked each other in the face in utter surprise. Noli unsure if what she had heard was correct, Prida ecstatic for her best friend.

I petitioned Starfleet to grant you the rank of Captain, and I am proud to say that they’ve agreed. You’ve earned it a hundred times over, and it’s about time they recognized that you are more than ready to take on this role, and to lead your own crew. You have always valued your duty—both to Starfleet and to the people you serve—above all else. That’s what makes you such an incredible leader, and why I know you’ll be an incredible captain. But there is one more thing you need to know: Starfleet believes that, given everything that has happened, it is best for all involved if you, too, make a fresh start.

The joy on Noli’s face evaporated almost as instantly as it had appeared, as Nazir spoke words such as ‘fresh start’. What did she mean?

I know that might be hard to hear, but I think they’re right. The Lakota was our home, but it carries too much of our past now. It’s time for you to step into your own future, to lead without the weight of what happened hanging over you. You deserve a ship and a crew that’s entirely yours, free from the ghosts of the past. I’m sorry I won’t be there to see you step into that new role, but I’ll be rooting for you from afar, always.

Congratulations, Captain Noli. I know you’ll be amazing.

Even after the news that she’d be moving on, it was hard for her to disagree with their sentiments, just as it was hard to feel anything but happiness at finally achieving her lifetime’s ambition. Prida draped an arm over her friend’s shoulders and pulled her close as the message continued and they were left alone to absorb the Captain’s final heartfelt words.

Whatever comes next, know that I am so proud of you, of everything we’ve done together, and of the Captain you’ve become. May your journey ahead be filled with triumphs, new adventures, and the knowledge that you are always supported by those who believe in you—myself included.

Thank you for being my friend, for standing by me through it all. I wish you every success and happiness in the future.

With all my heart,

Keziah