Dr Nichelle Trova stood silently behind Keller, resisting the urge to challenge him further, unwilling to earn herself another glare. She understood his reaction to what he clearly had perceived as disobedience, but part of her couldn’t help but wonder if he had reacted the same way towards anyone else. 

She couldn’t quite place why she disliked him leading the initial questioning of the pilot, but she did so with an intensity that seemed almost unreasonable. It was difficult to stay quiet when she had so many questions, and noticed so many things in the story that didn’t quite add up – the name of the Captain, his claim to have sent the broadcast…

It was like trying to put together a puzzle with half the pieces missing, and Keller’s tone wasn’t helping them one bit. 

Nichelle stifled a frustrated sign as Keller ordered the young man beamed up to the Callisto. It seemed a hasty decision, and like it would give him time to think and put his story in order – but it was Keller’s decision, and she resolved herself to bite her tongue and wait for new orders. 

“We move as one”, Keller spoke after a tense pause. His voice was firm and authoritative, but there was none of the previous venom in it. “I  have the feeling this will not be as straightforward as we’d like it to be.”

The security officers exchanged glances and nodded from their respective posts. Una, who was standing by one of the terminals, glanced up and addressed Keller.  “I have located the remaining crew on the  vessel:”, she said matter-of-factly, and stepped to the side to let the others see. 

From her spot behind Keller, Nichelle could only barely glance past his back and at the readout. It highlighted the bridge, where they stood now, along with the Captain’s Quarters, Engineering, and Sickbay – each location a potential flashpoint

“I suggest we split up,” said Anderson. “Clear the ship quickly. Most importantly, get to the prisoners and the injured.” He paused, scanning their faces “But of course, it increases the risk.” 

Nichelle didn’t like that idea in the slightest – they only had vague information on what was going on here – but once more resisted the urge to speak. Instead, she looked at Keller, who seemed to consider Anderson’s suggestion.  “It could be a trap.”, he mused, but didn’t discredit the idea right away.  

“It might be.” Anderson admitted. ”But it tracks with what we were told, and what the scans on the Callisto showed us.”

“Agreed.” Keller conceded eventually, giving a slight nod. 

That, Nichelle thought, proved her earlier concern at her being the focus of his irritation rather than this being the way he led his away team. “Anderson, Una – you take Engineering. Ra’lah and Hann – sickbay. The doctor and I will go to the Captain’s quarters.”

The Doctor. Now she didn’t even get to have a name. Nichelle shook her head, glancing at the others. Did anyone notice? If they did, no one cared enough to comment on it. 

Usually, Tarrik enjoyed the silence of engineering. The peace to focus on problems that intrigued him and the satisfaction of feeling useful. He didn’t have Draxon’s muscles or Mahok’s business acumen, and since he got nauseous at the sight of blood, he would never have made a passable surgeon. 

Even if he felt like his work often didn’t get the appreciation it deserved, he was happy. Usually, anyways. 

Now, the silence felt oppressive, and his thoughts far too loud. Ever since they had been alerted of Starfleet’s arrival, he and Korzal had hidden behind one of the terminals, and remained in the shadows as much as possible. 

“What do you think will happen?” Tarrik whispered eventually, his fingers fidgeting against the terminal’s edge, hoping that any sort of conversation would quiet the screaming in his head. 

“Reasonably?”, asked Korzal, and shot him a short glance before once more turning his attention to the door. 

“Yes.”, Tarrik’s voice trembled slightly. Why was he so nervous? “I mean… it can’t be that bad, can it? We changed the logs. We have someone to blame…”, he continued, finding a fleeting comfort in the sound of his own voice. 

“We do…”, sighed Korza and then shook his head. “But… seriously Tarrik, we were still part of this.”

“We didn’t actually do anything.”, Tarrik replied, his voice rose, and there was the edge of panic creeping in. “We kept the computer running, that was it. We didn’t attack the other ships, we didn’t cut up those people, and we didn’t sell the parts.” 

“We still helped. Even if it wasn’t actively participating.”, Korzal said quietly. “We made sure it could continue, didn’t we?”

“So? What was I supposed to do? I had orders, I just did what I was told.”, Tarrik snapped. 

“So did I.”, Korzal said softly. “But somehow that doesn’t make it better.”

Tarrik opened his mouth to retort, but no words came out. Not when the soft hiss of the door sliding open froze him in place. He pressed himself deeper into the shadows, for a moment entertaining the vain hope that they would overlook them and leave again. 

But then the lights came on, harsh and unforgiving. 

Kira Halden never thought she would find herself hoping for Starfleet’s arrival. But as she lay on the cold, dirty floor of the surgical suite, unable to move or draw in more than shallow breaths, she wanted nothing more than to be saved. The pain in her chest was unbearable, and it wasn’t just physical. 

She had never felt as utterly helpless as she did when she had watched the prisoners drag Draxon away from her, and heard his feeble attempts at defending himself. It was the first time she had prayed to anything or anyone.

Halden wanted to help him – a realization that came as a surprise. He had been her enemy for so long, hating him a pastime she had indulged in far too frequently. She had wanted him dead only minutes ago. But not like this. 

Hearing his sobs and screams now, seeing him terrified and vulnerable, made something shift inside her, and her anger at their shared history subsided, and in the moment she was finally able to let go of her hatred, she could no longer help him. 

It was a bitter irony that, just as Draxon’s body went still, Starfleet finally arrived. Two officers, both armed, stepped into the room. Too late to save him, but perhaps in time to help her.

They are coming to save me, she thought, and watched as they spoke to the prisoners. A bulky man stepped forward, his posture threatening, shouting something Halden couldn’t understand. Next to him, a young, sickly woman – a low priority product who had been here for weeks, neglected and forgotten – seemed to calm him down. The man nodded at the Officer, and followed them as they turned to leave. 

Wait! Halden wanted to scream. Take me with you!

But her scream remained trapped inside her. 

Nichelle hurried to keep pace with Keller’s speed as they walked through the dark corridors towards the Captain’s quarters. 

If Nichelle had thought the situation on the bridge to have been wholly unpleasant, she had to admit that this current interaction – or the lack thereof – brought it to a whole new level. 

The way he regarded her, the way the look in his eyes clearly showed that he didn’t want her here… she had to remind herself time and time again that this wasn’t the time, nor the place, to confront him.

When they finally reached the Captain’s quarters, Nichelle’s chest tightened. 

“Hm.”, said Keller as he regarded the damaged access panel. “Looks like someone was quite unhappy about not being able to get in.” 

He seemed to speak more to himself than to Nichelle, and disregarded her entirely when she flicked open her medical tricorder to scan the area. The door, though closed and seemingly heavy, didn’t keep her from finding what she was looking for. 

“Two lifesigns. One weaker than the other.” , she said eventually and looked at Keller.

Keller didn’t return her gaze. He gave no indication that he had actually heard her, focus remaining on the damaged access panel. 

“Two lifesigns.”, she repeated, her voice a little firmer this time. 

“I heard you the first time.”, Keller muttered dismissively. There was a tinge of irritation in his voice and he didn’t look up. Instead, he tapped his badge. “Corelas, I need access to the captain’s quarters. Can you unlock them from the bridge?”

“I can, but it will take a moment.” 

“Understood.”

As they waited, Keller finally turned to Nichelle. 

“Just like the Cupertino’s sickbay adhered to your rules, this is my away team. Stop trying to make me lose my cool. It won’t happen.”, he said, fixing her with an unreadable gaze. 

“I am not trying to-”, Nichelle gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief. She swallowed hard. “ Of you didn’t want me here, you should have requested someone else.”

“I did.” Keller cut in, his voice cold. “Brennan said there wasn’t any time for it. That’s the only reason I didn’t leave you standing where you were. At least, supervised, you can’t do any more harm to people.”

Nichelle fell silent, her breath catching in her throat. This was so incredibly hurtful, and while she understood his pain, she knew that it wasn’t fair. 

But before she could say something, the door to the Captain’s quarters clicked open, and Keller’s focus instantly shifted to what lay ahead. 

He raised his weapon and stepped inside, with Nichelle following him at a distance. A body lay on the floor, hand stretched towards the door as if he had tried to crawl into safety – not the source of the lifesigns she had detected earlier. 

“Captain Alice, I presume?”, said Keller, which had Nichelle turn her gaze from the deceased crew member and towards a young woman in dark uniform. While Keller’s demeanour was cool and detached, the woman’s eyes bulged and her voice trembled as she hastily shook her head. 

“What? N-… no. I am not the Captain. She is.”

She pointed towards someone they had previously overlooked. Another woman sat in a corner, with her arms wrapped around her legs, and her face hidden from view. 

Nichelle moved over to her instinctively, but froze in her steps as Keller grabbed her arm. 

“She could be armed!”, he hissed, weapon trained on the Captain. 

“She looks hurt.”, Nichelle responded sharply, “And It was confirmed that she was injured. Jonathan, just look at her. I have to help.”

At the mention of the first name, Keller’s grip on her arm tightened, not enough for it to hurt, but implying that he could. 

“Since when do you take that oath seriously?”, he growled.

Nichelle felt her eyes fill with tears, and without thinking, she yanked her arm away from him to tend to the woman. Who was a criminal, yes, but still deserving of medical care. 

“Four to beam up.”, said Keller flatly, and without another word, they were beamed out.