It was one of those rare moments Doctor Nichelle Trova found herself missing the position of Chief Medical Officer she had held on board the USS Cupertino. The job came with more than its fair share of stress, but at least the Captain had always kept her in the loop. 

Here on the Callisto, and no longer in a department head position, things were different. Over the past few hours, she had been so busy with patients and administrative work that the ship might as well have been kidnapped into the Delta Quadrant – she wouldn’t even have noticed.  

The news that they had come across a destroyed shuttle and then followed a mysterious broadcast, didn‘t reach her until she found herself assigned to an away team. Their mission? Board a vessel thought to be connected to a harvesting operation. 

Nichelle hadn‘t been part of an away mission for what felt like ages, and truth be told, the thought of it didn’t entice her in the slightest.  She wasn’t exactly a field medic – never had been – and there were several people better suited for such an endeavour 

And somehow, focussing her mind on that little, and very personal, detail was a lot easier than worrying about the bigger picture. Like the fact that they were facing part of the Orion Syndicate, and that what this ship was harvesting were parts of Borg-tech. From ex drones, who were now people. 

What angered her most was the name of the ship. Asklepios. It felt perverse to take a cornerstone of medicine so relevant that his name had lasted through centuries and travelled across the galaxy, a symbol of hope and healing, for a vessel where people met a gruesome end. 

These horrors certainly overshadowed her personal struggles, but Nichelle felt them fade into the background the moment Jonathan Keller entered sickbay. He froze as soon as he saw her, and his jaw set. 

Nichelle had been certain that he had been informed of her transfer to the Callisto, and assumed them not having crossed paths was because he simply tried to avoid her. But reading his expression now – the raw, barely concealed pain, the confusion, and the persisting anger – she wasn‘t so sure that was the case. 

„Doctor.“, Keller said coolly once he regained his composure, inclining his head in a gesture that was more a matter of formality than anything else. 

„Commander.“, she replied in an equally curt greeting, but she found that her voice was not nearly as composed as his. 

Neither of them said anything more. 

Because what else was there to say that didn‘t feel like shallow conversation, and a feeble attempt to gloss over what was on both their minds. 

Nichelle wanted to ask him how he was holding up after Ricarda‘s death, and how the kids were coping with the loss of their mother. She wanted to tell him that not a day went by that she didn’t think of Ricarda, and missed her best friend more than she could ever imagine. 

She wanted to say sorry. Sorry for failing Ricarda when it mattered most, and sorry for taking her away from him. 

But this wasn‘t the time to have that conversation. Maybe the right time would never come. 

Jonathan wordlessly motioned at her to follow, and she quietly trailed after him. 

“I can‘t keep thinking about the name of that ship.“, Jonathan said suddenly, his voice an unexpected but not unwelcome interruption of the silence. Nichelle looked at him in surprise – – she had thought the exact same just moments earlier –  and he continued bitterly.  “To use that name as some sort of sick joke.“

The doctor gave a slow nod as they entered the turbolift. 

“It‘s disgusting.“ she agreed. “The whole operation is.“

“Just stay behind me at all times.“, Jonathan said suddenly. Then he paused, and as if he was only now remembering that he hated her, he added “I don‘t want you to slow us down.” 

On the ISS Asklepios, Tarrik Solan had made his way from the bridge to engineering, the only place where he felt entirely at ease. He preferred working here over his shifts on the bridge, where Draxon barked his orders whenever none of those with actual power were around. 

Engineering was his sanctuary for the peace and quiet it offered, and it didn’t hurt that it housed his favourite chair and the least outdated console to work at.

The low hum of the warp core and the vibrations that translated through the deck were oddly soothing, and for a moment he managed to forget the complete mess they were in. 

Manipulating the logs was easy as pie. And as the old saying goes, don’t trust any statistics you haven’t faked yourself. Or something like that, anyway. 

Arys‘ name was seamlessly added to transactions and orders and outgoing correspondence. Her presence now documented as Captain of the Asklepios for the past two years, and leader of the operation. 

“That should do the trick“, he thought, not loving the idea, but necessity was a cruel motivator. He liked to think of himself as too smart to spend his life in confinement. 

Satisfied with his work, he reclined in his chair and closed his eyes. The peace, however, was short-lived as moments later the door slid open, revealing a dark figure.  Tarrik instinctually ducked, hoping the intruder hadn’t seen him, and would leave again. 

But the shadowy figure didn’t. 

Instead, it approached, and Tarrik didn’t know what unsettled him more. That whoever this was would find him falsifying logs, or that the person clearly seemed intent on claiming his chair. 

„Tarrik?“, a voice said eventually, revealing Korzal Nenn, another engineer, standing only a few feet away from him. 

„Hey…“, Tarrik managed. His voice sounded weak, and the choice of words entirely inappropriate for the situation. 

„What are you doing?“, Korzal asked with a frown, already leaning in to assay the readout. 

„I‘m… fixing the logs.“, Tarrik said, his voice sounding uncertain, even to him. Sometimes, in moments like this, he wished he had Halden’s confidence. 

„Oh good. I was gonna do that too.“, shrugged Korzan and leaned against the console. 

“Right..“, Tarrik sighed. Adding Arys to the logs had been the part of the plan they had in common. 

„How far did you get?“, the other Engineer asked curiously, not bothering to turn back around to check for himself. 

Tarrik managed a small smile. „Almost added her to everything there is – going back two years.“

“And you removed Mahok, right?“ 

The casual tone in Korzal’s voice made Tarrik’s stomach tighten. He had definitely not done that. For a moment, he considered lying. Then he remembered that he was awful at it. 

“Uh… no?“, he said hesitantly.

“Well Draxon said to do so.“, Korzal said, not firmly, but as if he was reminding Tarrik of something he seemed to have forgotten. “Let me just do that real quick…”

“No…”, Tarrik replied and shook his head. “Halden said to leave him in.”

“Why?”

“Because we can’t just blame one person. It doesn’t make any sense. It’s a lot more reasonable if we can say Arys was the Captain, and that her right hand – Mahok – left with the assets and most of the guards when she got injured.” 

“Hm.”, frowned Korzal. “Yeah that actually makes sense, but Draxon’s idea is a little different – just blame the woman. No one else.” 

“Right.”, said Tarrik again, finding that he should probably feel on edge, but wasn’t nervous at all. It was far too much like talking to a colleague about a system update.  “So what are we going to do?” 

Korzal thought about that for a moment. Then, a smirk spread on his lips. “Do you know rock, paper, scissors?“, he asked casually. 

“Sure I do. Everyone knows that.“, Tarrik replied, rolling his eyes at the question. 

“Neat. So… if I win, we remove Mahok like Draxon wants. If you win, we leave him in. Deal?”

“Deal.” 

For a moment, Tarrik wondered if this was really how they were going to decide what to do.

And if that, really, wasn‘t the way all conflicts should be handled.