“Captain’s log stardate seven-eight-six-two-oh point five-four-eight. The Columbia has arrived in the Chin’toka system and has rendezvoused with the Cardassian ship Daneer. Our orders are simple: make nice with the Cardassians! Starfleet has been assigned to oversee a joint training exercise with the Cardassian Central Command and the crew of Columbia. Hopefully, it is an attempt to foster better relationships. My crew will be mixing with the crew of the Daneer, a Keldon-class ship, as we undertake several joint away missions with our Cardassian counterparts. My senior staff and I are hosting a reception for our Cardassian colleagues in Ten Forward. The entire crew has been welcomed to join us to make our Cardassian guests feel comfortable.”

The transporter room aboard the USS Columbia buzzed with anticipation as the crew awaited the arrival of their Cardassian guests. Captain Corbin stood at the forefront, his dress uniform impeccable. His dark eyes scanned the room, his mind already assessing the diplomatic intricacies of the upcoming encounter. Beside him, Commander Nelson exuded an air of quiet confidence, her posture erect as she awaited the arrival of their guests. She had already quipped at the captain’s expense at how much he kept touching his hair. She knew how to tease him, especially when he was nervous over a mission. Lieutenant Niro stood nearby with the rest of the honour guard he had assembled. 

At the transporter controls, the chief on duty announced that their guests were ready to beam over. Corbin, his heart pounding with anticipation and nervousness, took a deep breath and nodded at the chief to bring their Cardassian visitors over. 

As the transporter hummed to life, three figures materialised in a shimmering blue light. The Cardassians, with their distinct ridged foreheads and sharp, calculating eyes, stepped forward, instantly commanding attention in the sterile environment of the transporter room. At the forefront stood Gul Tracet, a seasoned officer whose rigid posture and piercing gaze hinted at the weight of his responsibilities. Flanking him were Glinn Ganar and Glinn Kreska, their expressions guarded yet curious as they took in their new surroundings.

“Welcome aboard the USS Columbia,” Captain Corbin greeted warmly, extending a hand towards Gul Tracet. “I am Captain Romen Corbin, and it is an honour to have you and your officers join us for this exchange program.”

Gul Tracet’s features softened as he clasped Corbin’s hand in a firm shake, a gesture of mutual respect. “The honour is ours, Captain Corbin,” he replied in a measured tone. “I am grateful for this opportunity to see what our two crews can achieve together. The anticipation is high, and I believe this collaboration will be a fruitful one.”

Commander Nelson stepped forward, her smile warm and inviting. “I’m Commander Elizabeth Nelson, first officer of the Columbia,” she introduced herself. “We’re eager to begin this collaboration and learn from each other.”

Gul Tracet nodded in acknowledgement, his gaze shifting briefly to his two aides and introduced them to Corbin and Nelson. 

With the formalities observed, Captain Corbin motioned for the group to proceed to the ship’s crew lounge. “Gul Tracet, if you follow me, my crew and I have organised a gathering in honour of this new era of collaboration. Will you join me?” he offered, gesturing for the Cardassians to follow.

Gul Tracet inclined his head in agreement, his expression now tinged with a hint of anticipation. “Indeed, Captain. I look forward to seeing how our junior crews will collaborate on the tasks ahead, a prospect that fills me with excitement and optimism.”

As the officers of the USS Columbia and their Cardassian counterparts made their way through the ship’s corridors, the hum of conversation filled the air, a harmonious blend of different voices. The occasional echo of boots against the metal grating was a rhythmic reminder of their shared journey.

Nelson looked at Corbin one more time and smirked when she saw him adjust his hair again as they left the transporter room. Like so many of his crew, she knew he would be nervous about ensuring this mission with the Cardassians went without a hitch. 

As Bollwyn strolled down the gleaming corridor, the soft hum of the ship’s engines echoed around him. With a towel snugly wrapped around his waist, he headed towards his bunk, his mind buzzing with anticipation for the upcoming diplomatic reception. Before grabbing his fresh, clean clothes, Bollwyn pushed his damp, tousled hair away from his forehead. 

Tapping the panel, the door to his personal storage unit slid open with a whisper, revealing the neatly arranged uniforms within.

As he rummaged through his belongings, his fingers brushed against the smooth fabric of his dress uniform. It had been ages since he last wore it.

Sitting on the edge of his bunk, Bollwyn started to dry himself. The sonic shower he had just indulged in had left a faint, refreshing scent lingering in the air around him. As he began to get dressed, he noticed a familiar figure approaching him.

“Hey Matty,” Bollwyn said smiling, using the nickname he had given Clark a few days ago. 

“Samwell,” Matthys replied in his usual disinterested tone as he closed the distance between them. He had already been dressed in his dress uniform and looked immaculate. A grin that formed just slightly on the right side of his face would give away his act of indifference, though. Unbeknownst to Bollwyn was the fact that the only person in his life who got away with calling him Matty was his late grandmother. Scorned was anyone else in his family who dared to speak that name to him. For some reason, though, he had taken to it immediately when it came out of Bollwyn. It felt right. 

Over the last month or so, since Columbia’s mission along the Talarian border, the two of them had started to see eye-to-eye on things and were beginning to socialise more. Bollwyn had indulged himself in Clark’s enjoyment of a weekly mud bath while he had taught Clark how to play Velocity. Then, only a week ago, the two of them had been assigned to the same set of bunks. Bollwyn was on the bottom, and Clark was on the top. 

As he pulled his trousers on and started on his undershirt, Bollwyn looked up at Clark, “You ready to mingle with the Cardassians, Matty?”

“I’m ready to mingle. Whether or not it’s with Cardassians is yet to be determined,” Matthys’ grin grew into a more mischievous expression. He was only going to this event for two reasons: Samwell wanted him to, and it was an opportunity to socialise with perhaps some special beverages involved.

Matthys stood back and took a once over his friend; he then quickly moved in closer and adjusted Bollwyn’s comm badge to be a bit straighter. His hands brushed across his friend’s shoulders in a mock dusting motion. 

“Got to say Samwell. You clean up pretty good.” Matthys gave Bollwyn a playful wink and admiring expression.

“Come on, we best get ourselves to Ten Forward. Otherwise, the captain may tell us off for being late.”

Moments later, the two friends and bunkmates entered the lounge. The lighting was dimmed ever so slightly to assist with what appeared to be an evening lounge vibe. The room was full of officers in dress on both sides, and a collision of inaudible chatter filled the entryway where they stood.

“See any liquor, Samwell?” Matthy stated inquisitively, his eyes focused on surveying the room.

Bollwyn rolled his eyes at his friend. “Really? This so soon into the reception?” 

“Joking—joking, of course,” Matthys raised his hands in surrender. He had become quite attuned to just how far he could push his new friend and what he couldn’t get away with. Matthys nodded in agreement. There was time and place for letting loose, and while this was meant to be a social gathering, it certainly wasn’t the type of venue where they would be dancing with one another to the beats of some bass. Perhaps it was a mistake to accompany Bollwyn, after all; the longer he stood there, the more uptight Matthys felt during this whole event.

Looking around the room, Bollwyn suggested they grab something to eat on the long buffet table spread across the bar. “Let’s get something to eat and then mingle with our guests,” he said. 

Matthys nodded in agreement as he observed the spread, some of it looked appetizing from a distance at least. He was thankful he had not eaten earlier.

“Ensigns Bollwyn and Clark,” spoke a formal but friendly tone from behind them.

Turning around together, both men saw their department head approaching them with a couple of other Cardassians. Lieutenant Commander Velesa appeared to be in a good mood (in fact, she was usually sending out positive vibes) as she introduced the two Cardassians on either side of her. 

“This is Gil Mereska,” she said, pointing to the woman to her left before turning to the man to her right. “And this is Gil Larman.” 

“Welcome to the Columbia,” Bollwyn said with a nervous smile.

“Thank you,” Larman said with a pleasant tone. Mereska just bowed her head at her hosts.

“Samwell, these two will be joining you and Clark on your away mission to the McAllister C-Five nebula tomorrow afternoon,” Velesa said with confidence. 

Bollwyn blushed a bit as he noticed his friend looking at him. Instead of reacting to him straight away, Bollwyn told their guests and his superior he looked forward to it and then suggested he and Clark get their visitors some drinks. Both asked for a glass of Kanar. Bollwyn nodded and then pulled Clark away by the wrist toward the bar.

“So there’s something I need to tell you,” Bollwyn admitted in a hushed whisper.

Matthys remained as calm as he could in front of his superior and the Cardassian guests, for the most part, his usual neutral and slightly disintered look maintained its composure. This changed swiftly as he let Bollwyn pull him by the wrist to the bar. While his face had somewhat of a curious expression, there was also a sharpness in his eyes that looked like it wanted to cut straight through Bollwyn. “What exactly did you do, Samwell?” 

“Well, let’s just say I volunteered us for one of the joint missions, but I never expected for us to be picked,” Bollwyn remarked. “I’m sorry, Matty; I thought the commander would never have picked us for such an important mission.”

It had confirmed his suspicions at least, he had not heard their superior wrong when she had described this away mission that included Matthys’ participation. He groaned and rolled his eyes rather dramatically. This was not his idea of a good time. It involved being in a crowded small vessel without the comforts and conveniences the Columbia offered. No – in fact – this was his version of purgatory, that his own friend had gotten him into.

“I only got told this morning that I’d be leading the away mission, and I was thinking of a way to tell you,” Bollwyn said. “And anyway, you still owe me for that shift I covered for you!”  He playfully poked his friend on the chest. 

Matthys groaned again, he was wondering when this card would be played. Given how close the two of them had become as a result of his sickbay shift mishap, part of him thought that perhaps Bollwyn having to work that extra shift a month back had been mostly forgotten and old news by now. “I do owe you,” he stated flatly.

“Listen, it’s only a few days on one of our state-of-the-art runabouts,” Bollwyn pleaded. “Plus, you get to have the best bunk mate who promises to make it up to you when we get back?”

“A runabout. I suppose that’s not all that bad then.” Matthys pursed his lips together for a moment and pondered the situation over once more. “You’ll make it up to me, you say?” He continued, having picked apart the last part of his colleague’s statement. He gave Bollwyn an ever so rare smile, although it appeared eerily cheshire-like.

“Anything you want…” Bollwyn said and then paused “within reason!”

“If it were anyone else, Samwell,” Matthys stared him directly in the eyes, his expression returning to his normal slightly hateful look. He sighed once more and seemed to move into the acceptance stage of his grief process rather quickly.

“Fine. Just call us even on saving my rear-end a month ago.” Matthys stated and then looked at the kanar that was brought over for them by the bartender. He resisted the urge to gag, “this stuff smells vile, Samwell– if they offer us a sip, please take mine.”

The two men grabbed a glass of kanar for each of their new guests and went over to talk more with them. 

Jeden bounced on her toes in nervous anticipation as she heard Isan’s voice in her head from their time together at the academy, ‘Move, don’t let your opponent dictate the match, control it…‘  Across from her, her next opponent, Lieutenant Tra’vil ducked under the ropes of the sparring mat. 

She bit down on the mouthguard and grimaced. Though she generally disliked these classes she found them to be a good workout and boxing had been growing on her. She knew it was a skill set she needed to improve even when she expected to be on the losing end of the match given the size of her opponent. 

Her opponent nodded to her and reached out one of his gloved hands which he bumped with her own before she settled into her boxing stance. From the side of the sparring mat, the instructor blew her whistle and the match began. Remember all the instructions that Isan had drilled into her she moved quickly to her right and closed the distance. She ducked under a jab from him brought her fists up under his defence and felt a wave of satisfaction as they both connected before she jumped back to dodge his counter. Though she anticipated the strike her timing was off and she took a glancing strike across her helmet knocking her on her ass.

Before she got up the instructor blew her whistle pausing the match. “Ensign Sonia, that’s the match for you. Your CO wants a word.”

Jeden let out a disappointing sigh, as she took her gloves off before removing her helmet, “Thanks for the match Lieutenant, sorry I have to run.” He smiled and offered his gloved hand, “Always a pleasure Ensign, you are getting damn quick, a month ago you wouldn’t have been able to land those hits. Rematch next time?”

With her closed fist, she bumped his glove, “Definitely. But for now, I need to get out of these clothes, really worked up a sweat today. See you soon.” With that, she ducked under the rope and grabbed her combadge, quickly putting it back on her shirt.

Giving the instructor a quick nod she started to make her way to the showers as she tapped her combadge and called her CO. After a moment the Lieutenant Commander’s voice came over the coms, “Ensign Sonia,  I am sending you a data packet with your new orders. I want to lead a team to evaluate some of the wrecks in the scrapyard to determine if they are salvageable or if they need to be scuttled. Read them and get yourself ready for the reception I will meet you there and introduce you to your counterparts there.”

Jeden sighed as Ortega cut the channel. “Right, 90 minutes….” she said as she looked at the large clock on the wall before stepping into the shower room, “guess I cannot have a relaxing shower then…”

Looking down at her dress uniform Jeden absently mindedly brushed the sleeves and the jacket as if there was dust on it. She knew she was distracted by events almost 30 years in the past but knew she had to move past it. As with many Bajorans, she sometimes struggled with anything to do with the Cardassian military. Though she was born years after the occupation, it had claimed the lives of three of her grandparents and she keenly remembered the stories her parents and others used to tell her. As she thought about it, her hand touched the d’ja pagh hanging from her right ear, he rarely wore it but made a point to whenever she was in her dress uniform. “Times have changed,” she muttered under her breath as she thought back to growing up on DS9 and the handful of Cardassians who lived there; they had all been wonderful people.

With a final, forceful exhale, more of a snort, she straightened and stepped through the door into the ongoing reception. Between the slightly dimmed lights, soft background music and chatter she felt herself relax a little as she took in the scene. Looking around she saw most of the senior staff, except Commander Ortega, and several junior officers she was familiar with mingling with a number of Cardassians of various ranks. Her gaze stopped on the rather large buffet table across the bar and she couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, good food always wins me over,” she said with a smile before she made her way over to it, almost with a skip in her step. 

As she looked down at the wide variety of food she stopped when she saw the Cardassian meat rolls with Yamok sauce, the Larish pies and the Ikri buns. All items she was very familiar with and ranked in her favourites, though most food in general was.  “It would be a pity to let this go to waste,” she said with a grin as she selected one of each and put them on her plate. Taking a rather large bite of the roll she turned around and saw Samwell standing not far off as he ordered a drink with another ensign in a teal uniform she wasn’t familiar with. They made eye contact and she hurriedly nodded at him before he headed back into the crowd, slightly embarrassed as she realized she likely looked like a chipmunk with food in her mouth.

“Ensign Sonia, there you are,” came a stern yet very feminine voice from behind her.

Jeden stiffened and quickly put her plate down beside her on the table before turning around, and hurriedly chewed the remainder of the roll. “Commander Ortega, ah, hello,” she said as she covered her mouth.

“I would have expected you to come find me as soon as you got her Ensigned,” she said flatly while her eyes lingered on Jeden’s earring. “Thought…” her eyes shifted to the buffet, “I can understand the draw of the food.” Ortega grabbed the Ikri bun off the plate Jeden had been holding and smiled, “Did you have any questions about the mission?”

Jeden shook her head, “Not really, it seems straightforward enough. Assess each of the ships to determine if they can be salvaged. If possible outline what is needed to get it underway otherwise scuttle it.” She smiled, feeling confident that she could do the tasks with ease, “Oh, there was one, who will I be working with? I didn’t see any other crew members down.”

“That is because they aren’t from this crew,” Ortega said as she turned and gestured over to a young Cardassian man with strong features. “You will be working with Gil Nudras Droc. He is one of the junior engineers on the Daneer. Given that you are to check several Cardassian, Dominion and Federation ships it makes sense to have you work in a team though I understand you are familiar with Cardassian technology. I trust that won’t be a problem.”

“Yes, Commander,” Jeden said, “No, I mean that won’t be a problem.” 

“Good,” she responded just as Gil Droc stepped up. “Gil Droc, this is Ensign Sonia Jeden. You two will be working together for this mission. Get to know each other as you will both be very busy in the coming days.” With that Ortega grabbed another Ikri bun and walked into the crowd.

Jeden looked the young Cardassian over with an inquisitive eye before she smiled and held out her hand, “Gil Droc, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Ensign Sonia Jeden but you can call me Jeden.”

Nudras took her hand and nodded in greeting. “Ensign Sonia, a pleasure. I look forward to working with you. Most call me Droc,”  he remarked very formally.

Jeden sighed, “I don’t bite Droc. Come get some food.”

Droc visibility relaxed at that, “I could do with some food. Wonder if the Yamok sauce is decent.”

“It’s ok, not the best I’ve had but I am pretty sure it is replicated which would explain that. The meat rolls are pretty good and make up for the ok-ish sauce,” Jeden said as she handed Droc a plate with a meat roll. “You want a Larish pie? I haven’t had one yet but I am sure it is edible.”

He accepted the plate with a quick, “Thanks.” He took a quick bit, “You’re right, the sauce isn’t the best but it is passable.” With that, he put down the plate and looked at Jeden for a moment, “I want to get this out of the way. Will we be ok working together?”

Jeden cocked an eyebrow, fixed her glare on him and crossed her arms, waiting for the inevitable reason.

Droc shifted uncomfortably for a second and broke eye contact, “Because, well, you are a Bajoran and I’m Cardassian.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Jeden said giving him a disapproving stare before she smiled and let out a little laugh. “Sorry Droc, I couldn’t help myself. We will be fine. Neither of us where there though I would be lying if I said I had no connection to it, hadn’t lost family, most Bajorans did. I am sure some of my people will be signing up to this New Maquis madness because of the anger but that isn’t me. I grew up on DS9 and knew Cardassians there. Treat me as your equal and we will be fine.”

“Ok, I wanted to just get that out there in case it was going to be an issue,” he said with a nod. “I think what happened was horrible….”

“Stop,” she said with a bit more force than she intended. “We don’t need to do this. We are at a party, let’s enjoy ourselves and get to know each other. From how I read the mission brief it will be just us on those derelicts so you better get used to my chatting now.”

With a smile, she turned back to the table and added a selection of food to her plate and then gestured to the bar, “I don’t know about you but when I’m at a party I like to have a drink and enjoy myself though sadly this isn’t the type of party we can dance at.”

Droc matched her smile, “Food and a drink would be nice.” After a pause where he grabbed some more food, he continued, “Maybe some dancing wouldn’t hurt another time.”

“Well Droc, maybe, if you are well behaved we will see if that can be arranged,” Jeden said with a wicked smile. “But for now, let’s get that drink and go mingle. I can introduce you to some of the other lower deckers around here.”

“Come back to bed, Matthys,” the voice of Lieutenant Naomi Cross sounded. Her husband groaned beside her, “You better get up Owen, your shift starts in twenty minutes.” 

Matthys had once again spent the night as a guest in the Cross household – he had run into them both towards the end of the social gathering in Ten Forward the night prior. He had accepted their invitation to an afterparty and had parted ways with Samwell after making nice with their Cardassian guests. He had quickly developed a friendship with the husband and wife officers shortly after he first arrived to the Columbia – and they had been generous enough to let him use their quarters for a quiet space to paint when he was in the mood. He had been staying over for visits a lot less since he had become bunkmates with his friend Bollwyn.

Matthys was in the living area of their small shared quarters, planted in a corner where he had an assortment of paints spread across the palette he was holding. He mashed a couple of different colours together and then delicately added some to his brush before applying it to the canvas. It was the start of what would appear to be an abstract of the McAllister C-5 Nebula. The night prior he had learned that Samwell had voluntold him for a mission – a fact he had come to peace with quickly. He had not had much urge to sleep that night, so had snuck in some work on a gift that he intended to give to Samwell in recognition of his command of their away team. 

“What is that you’re working on?” Owen asked as he speedily rushed around the room gathering what he needed for the day. 

“Oh this…” Matthys looked at the canvas blankly for a moment before he fully answered, “it’s a nebula, I’m going to give to Sam…” He was abruptly cut off by Naomi who was now out of bed herself, clad in a silky and flowing robe. 

“A gift to Samwell you say.” Naomi crossed her arms and examined the work while she now stood beside Matthys. “It’s beautiful. You did this in a couple of hou– wait a minute. How come you’ve never painted something for us?” Her expression for a moment turned sour but evolved into a smile just as quickly as she had appeared by his side. 

Matthys groaned and rolled his eyes, “I didn’t say it was a gift. Just a memento I was going to give him after this away mission is done. He’s in command of it, you know, that’s a pretty big deal.” 

“So you told us. Only about a dozen times– right honey?” Owen added having finally gathered what he needed for the day. Owen playfully messed Matthys’ hair up, “It’s really sweet of you, Matthys. Although a gift is usually something you give someone, ya know. I’ve got to shower and then get to my shift. Don’t be a stranger, Matthys, eh?” Owen finished, gave his wife a quick peck on the lips, ruffled Matthys’ hair once more and then made his departure.

“What’s going on between the two of you? This Samwell and you?” Naomi asked as she assumed a seat near Matthys on the chair to his left. 

“Nothing is going on. He’s a friend.” Matthys responded curtly and continued to work on the painting.

“Right. And I’m the Queen of Betazed,” Naomi playfully slapped Matthys’ shoulder with the back of her hand. “Matthys. Owen and I have only known you a short while, granted, but we both have seen just how much you’ve changed since Ensign Bollwyn came into your life. You didn’t seem to care at all about being here, and now you’re going on an away mission and painting a memento for your friend.”

“He’s just a friend, Naomi. I can’t argue the fact that he somehow makes me want to be better than I am, but that doesn’t mean something is going on.” Matthys looked up at his friend and gave her a somewhat stern expression, it indicated that she best not push her narrative any further.

“Fine fine. How about you at least have him over to dinner sometime with Owen and I?” Naomi grinned as she put the invite out there in the open.

“I might consider having him over for a meal but that’s all that it’ll be – he’s far too straight edge for your famous afterparties.” Matthys took his paintbrush and waved it in Naomi’s face before returning it to the canvas. He continued to expand on the outer edge of the nebula as it met the darkness of space.

“A meal. That’s all. I promise.” Naomi stood back up and secured her robe. “I’m going back to bed. I suggest you either come lay down or return to those awful lower deck bunks for some shut eye, you’ll need some rest before you take off on that fun adventure with your friend,” she finished and gave Matthys a wink and playful slap on the shoulder once more before she returned to her bed.

“I’ll be done this soon and then I’m going to get back to that sad excuse of a quarters area us ensigns are graced with. Thanks again to you and Owen for your… hospitality,” Matthys replied softly and continued to work on finishing his creation.

Bollwyn, accompanied by his guests, stepped into the vast Shuttlebay One. This was a part of the ship he rarely visited, and a wave of unease washed over him. His guests, the Gils, dressed in their typical Cardassian uniforms, carried their belongings in bags slung over their shoulders. Bollwyn had offered to have their items beamed directly to the Chawla, the Arrow-class runabout they would use for their survey mission near the McAllister C-5 nebula, but both politely declined, their eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. 

Larman looked at Bollwyn as they approached the Chawla. “I assume we will each have our own quarters?” he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Bollwyn shook his head. “I’m afraid not; we will be sharing bunks. Is that okay with you?” he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of concern.

“Oh, Larman, did you really just ask such a question?” Mereska asked, shaking her head in disbelief. She turned to Bollwyn, her tone laced with a hint of annoyance. “Please excuse my colleague’s ignorance, Ensign Bollwyn.”

“Hey, it’s no issue,” Bollwyn said, remaining calm. “I’ve already given you two your own cabin with adjustable environmental controls. I know it may not be the luxury that you’re used to-”

“It will suffice, thank you,” Mereska interjected hastily, smiling to show her appreciation.

Pleased to hear that, Bollwyn approached the rest of his team, who were waiting for him. The moment he saw Clark, he felt less anxious and gave Clark a look, suggesting he was pleased to see him. “I think you both remember Ensign Matthys Clark from last night’s reception,” He said, introducing his friend to their guests. “And these two are Ensigns Nitala and Mkana, who will join us for this mission.” He gestured towards the newcomers, a smile playing on his lips.

Kneeling at the side of the runabout, Mkana was checking the engineering stats on the craft. It was going to be an interesting journey, and after the Borg space mission, Mkana didn’t want to get any funny surprises. He noticed the group coming and stood up and walked to them. “Good day, welcome…my name is Ensign Mkana, and I will join you on this journey” He gave a nod in the direction of Bollwyn. 

“Nice to see you again,” Matthys said, giving a brief and curt nod to the two Cardassian officers. His gaze then quickly returned to Bollwyn, and he smiled at his friend as if to confirm for him somehow that he had this all under control. 

Nitala nodded to the guests, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She replied in short.

“A Human, a Barzan, a Ventaxian, and a Romulan—Starfleet is certainly becoming more diverse these days,” Mereska remarked. “At this rate, who knows, you may end up recruiting Larman to join Starfleet by the end of this mission.”

“Starfleet wouldn’t know how to handle me,” Darman responded. “Can we get settled and underway?”

Realising that this mission may be extremely awkward, Bollwyn nodded and requested that his colleagues get them underway. “Nitala, if you would do the honours of bringing the Chawla fully operational, and then Mkana if you could pilot us out of the shuttlebay,” he said.

“Understood,” Mkana briefly stated as he walked to the pilot’s seat and sat down. He started to set up the navigational and engine systems. He waited for Nitala to get the ship operational before proceeding with the undocking procedure. 

“Understood,” Nitala replied before approaching one of the controls and began to bring the Chawla to operational status.

Bollwyn turned to Clark; he was already regretting volunteering them for this mission. “Matty, would you please show our guests their cabin so they can store their belongings?” 

“Of course. My pleasure.” Matthys gave Bollwyn a quick wink out of the vision of their guests and then quickly gestured to them both, “If you will be so kind to follow me.”

Bollwyn mouthed a ‘thank you’ as Clark took over from him and led their Cardassian guests inside. 

As soon as they were settled, Bollwyn entered the cockpit where Mkana and Nitala were located. “Are we good to go?”

“Engines green, navigational systems green, buoys course plotted. I just need to get clearance from Columbia for launch,” Mkana stated in the direction of Bollwyn and tapped onto the console. “Chawla to Columbia, we request clearance for launch.”

“We are fully operational and ready to launch,” Nitala shared.

Within moments, Matthys and the two Cardassian officers stood in their designated cabin. The bunks reminded Matthys of his own home on the Columbia – at least, this was a bit more private. He gestured to a small display control panel to their left, “You can manually adjust the environmental controls of the cabin using this control panel or through voice control. If adjusting temperature or humidity levels, I would suggest doing so in small increments; the environmental systems on these new runabouts are top of the line and are usually quite responsive.” 

Larman nodded his head to Clark. “Thank you, ensign,” He replied as he and Mereska placed their belongings into their private compartments. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to be present in your command centre when we depart.”

“They call it a cockpit,” Mereska corrected him.

Matthys grinned and held back a chuckle. That term had always struck him funny when someone said it, and it seemed even more amusing coming from a Cardassian, for some reason. “Of course—follow me once more,” he gestured in the other direction with his arm and then began the short journey forward.

In the cockpit, Bollwyn was about to take the co-pilot’s chair when he heard the footsteps of their guests and Clark. Turning around to face them, he offered for them to take their places at two of the aft stations. “Shall we get underway?” he asked before commanding them to depart at once. 

Their mission was underway. 

The lightless and battle-scared corridors of the USS Geronimo stood as a testament to the totality of the Dominion War. The once pristine Akira class had been reduced to an empty husk by the Breen energy weapon and subsequent bombardment as it had made its retreat leaving only its saucer section and its port strut and nacelle intact. Debris floated throughout the ship, as the two swirls of blue light appeared providing the first illumination for a quarter of a century, vanishing to leave two figures behind.

“Welcome to the USS Geronimo Gil Droc,” Sonia said as she turned to face him. The headlamps from their EVA suits provide the only light onboard the ship.

“She appears to be in better shape than the CDS Bazal, Etrace and the USS Nairobi. The CDS ships took heavy fire as the Federation ships made their way into the system and the Nairobi, I am not sure why we even looked, there wasn’t even a quarter of it left. This one may actually have something salvageable,” Droc said as he looked past Sonia and towards the opened door to engineering.

Sonia shrugged, “We had to check her, same with the CDS ships. Her engineering section was mostly intact, and the Maquis could have found something.”

“True,” the young Cardassian commented as he looked around again. “Let’s hurry up, these ships feel eerie like this. Cardassian or Federation, too many people died on them. I wouldn’t be surprised if we found a body left behind.”

Sonia began to make her way forward and stopped at that comment. She would be lying if she had said it hadn’t crossed her mind either. “The Federation, Klingons, Romulans and the Cardassians went through all their ships at the war’s end. They put a lot of time into the recovery operations in the system so there shouldn’t be any bodies but if we do find one, we make sure they get the proper burial they deserve.”

Droc nodded as he stepped up behind her, “That goes without saying.”

“Damn right,” Sonia remarked as they made their way into engineering. Pulling out her tricorder she began to run a detailed scan of the equipment. Switching off her magnetic boots she pushed upwards and grabbed hold of the railing on the second floor before looking back down at Droc as he knelt beside one of the access panels looking inside. “Systems are completely offline, not that it’s a surprise…” Sonia said absently,

“If there was power that would be something else,” Droc responded as he stood up and turned to look up at Sonia. “I thought you said these ships were stripped down after the war ended? The Nairobi had been picked clean but these power conduits look almost as good as new.”

“Really? That’s odd, I read the report, and the teams did a full recovery on her. Maybe they just missed one,” Sonia said as she stepped up to the warp core and stopped when the tricorder flashed. “Right, I think the recovery team missed more than one thing. I think this warp core is salvageable at least. Possibly even more of the equipment here from what my scans are showing.”

With that she turned and dropped from the second floor, the zero gravity letting her land softly, “We best go check other systems but this may be our first candidate for salvage. Hell, the core seems ok at first glance they may be able to get her powered up if engineering works a miracle.”

Droc just nodded as he looked around, “Where to next?”

“The main armoury, medical and then the shuttle bay,” Sonia said as she made her way to the door.

Forty-five minutes later they found themselves standing outside the main shuttle bay. Droc looked over at Sonia, a quizzical look on his face, “If I were a betting man I would say there will be some shuttles in there. The original savage team didn’t do a good job so far.”

“There was a lot of work to do after the war, the recovery work must have been focused on the bodies more than the hardware,” Sonia remarked though she couldn’t help but feel it had been a security lapse. If the New Maquis had found this ship and stripped it they would have a significant amount of weapons. “Given the almost full complement of torpedoes, medical gear and small arms on here I half expect to find the full fighter wing. Either way, though the Columbia will need to send over a full salvage team and an engineering detail to see if they they could get the core online again.”

The Cardassian let out a snort at the remark, “Do you think your engineers could get this core back online and even repair the ship?”

Sonia shrugged as she pried open the panel beside the door to the main shuttle bay to access the manual controls. “The core? Sure. As for the ship? Not here but…at a shipyard, maybe? Maybe they could.” She moved the panel aside, letting it drift away slowly in the zero gravity and stepped back as she shot Droc a crooked smile, “Seems jammed, use those muscles of yours will you?”

With a roll of his eyes, Droc stepped up beside Sonia, “Fine.” With that, he grabbed the lever and grunted as he pulled it into place. With a click, the door popped open a couple of centimetres.

“Great,” Sonia said as she grabbed the door and gave it a tug which caused it to slide open enough to squeeze through. Before her, in the vast hanger bay of the Akira sat multiple shuttle craft and runabouts, some with their clamps still in place, others adrift within the enclosed space.

“Well I’ll be damned,” she muttered. “It is not a fighter wing but two runabouts and some shuttles is something to report back for sure.” She made her way further into the bay in disbelief as Droc squeezed through the door, “Safe to say, I think they forgot some equipment….” 

“You could say that again,” Droc said as he made his way to the closest runabout clamped only a few metres away. “Shall we check these out and see if they can be salvaged?” 

Sonia looked back and forth between Droc and the shuttles for a moment, “Yeah, you check that one I will check out this one over here.” She turned and pushed off the deck plating and drifted towards the runabout further into the bay. Just as her mag boots clicked back onto the floor Droc’s voice came over the com.

“Ensign Jeden, get over here right away.”

“On my way, what is it?” 

“Sadly, nothing good.”

A few moments later Sonia stepped up beside Droc, who stood outside the opened hatch. “What is it?”

He nodded towards the hatch, “They didn’t recover everyone.”

“What?” Sonia said as she stepped towards the hatch, her head turned to look at Droc.

“They didn’t recover everyone,” Droc repeated again, his voice pained.

A sinking feeling grew in her stomach as she stepped into the runabout and looked into the main cockpit. “Oh my god,” she gasped. Without pause she opened a com channel to the Columbia, “Columbia, this is Ensign Jeden. I need a full medical team on the Geronimo. There a bodies of the crew still on board.”

“Repeat that again Ensign?” Came the voice over her coms.

“There are,” she paused as she looked around, “six, no seven bodies in the cockpit of one of the runabouts. I need a medical team to assist with ID and, handling.”

“Understand, medical has been informed and a team will be with you shortly.”

Sonia stood there for another moment as she looked at the desecrated bodies. “I am so sorry,” she whispered before stepping out of the runabout and returning to stand beside Droc. 

“This shouldn’t have happened,” she said after a moment.

“None of it should have,” Droc said quietly. “Everything that war causes should never have happened.”

Sonia sat and stared out the window of the Lower Deck Social area lost in thought. It didn’t help that she could see the bulk of the Geronimo not far off from the Columbia surrounded by a flurry of activity as shuttle crafts and engineering crews crawled over her hull. The lights from the ship were clearly visible after an engineering team successfully restarted the core.

She barely registered when a cup was set beside her and Gil Droc sat down. “How are you doing Sonia?” he asked before he reached over and felt her up. “Your tea has gone cold.”

“Hmm?” was all she said before realizing that he was talking to her. “Sorry, was somewhere else.”

“I told you not to listen to the recording,” he said. “There are medical teams and specialists for that.” He frowned, “Well there are on some of our ships, I assume the Federation has them as well.”

Sonia sighed and leaned back, stretching her neck as she did, “I needed to hear it. Wish I didn’t but it was their last words.”

“It could have been worse I guess, more crew trapped,” she continued. “I just cannot shake the realization they had when they couldn’t get the clamps to release, let alone power up the runabout. That with the decompression of the bay trapped them. They deserved better.”

Droc nodded, “They did. But now they will be put to rest with full honours. If we hadn’t checked that ship who knows how long they would have remained there. If the Maquis had found them I don’t know if they would have treated them with the respect they deserved.” He reached out, and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. He began to speak and paused for a moment, “I…I don’t know how spiritual you are but if I recall the Bajorans will light a duranja during the period of mourning. Would that be something you would like to do?”

Sonia sat in silence for a long moment before nodding, “Yeah, that would be nice.” She started to stand and looked back at Droc, “You know a lot about Bajoran cultural practices, how come, beyond the occupation and such?”

“Our people have a long history even before the occupation. Sadly most of it isn’t anything my people should be proud of,” Droc responded. “I like to learn from our past and the cultures linked to it so that those same mistakes don’t happen again.” 

Sonia cocked her head at him for a moment and set out a single laugh, “You are not what I expected from a Cardassian military officer Gil Droc. In a good way.” With that, she turned and made her way to leave before she stopped and called back, “What are you sitting around for? I’m not going to light it alone. Come on.”

The Cardassian let out a faint chuckle and nodded, “Lead the way.”

Matthys straightened the corner edge of the rather bohemian-appearing tablecloth, working out the last of the wrinkles. He stood back with his hands on his hips and nodded in agreement to himself. They were several days into their journey on the Chawla as a team and for some reason still unknown to himself, he had suggested they have a formal dinner party with the aim of further getting to know one another. It had slipped out in a moment of weakness and their valiant away team leader, Ensign Bollwyn, had latched onto the idea promptly.

Matthys had spent the past hour or so decorating the back common area of the runabout, ensuring the atmosphere was just right. If he was going to have to endure this evening, he was going to make sure it was done so in style. The room, much like the tablecloth, now had a warm, eclectic and bohemian vibe to it

Bollwyn entered the compartment with his focus on the PADD he had in his hands. He stopped mid-track and looked up. Instantly, he smirked. “Wow, you did all of this?” He asked. 

“You like it?” Matthys looked to his friend for validation. He didn’t want to let him down on this, especially considering how excited he had been since announcing it was a go to the crew the prior day.

Nodding, Bollwyn placed the PADD to his side. “It’s really good, thank you.” Bollwyn appreciated the effort that Matthys had gone through for him. 

“Did you decide what dish you were replicating?” Matthys asked as he started fussing with the table arrangements once more. The group had decided that they would each replicate one of their favourite dishes to share amongst themselves. They would introduce the dish at the beginning of the meal.

“I’m debating between something Klingon or Vulcan. Though I’m not sure what would make our ‘new friends’ happy,” Bollwyn replied. He looked around before returning his sight to his friend. “This should hopefully break the ice with them. We should get ourselves ready.” 

“You’re right… I should finish getting dressed. This is due to start in less than ten minutes. I’ll be sure to bring my special surprise back with me.” Matthys winked at Bollwyn and made a quick exit to change into some casual attire.

Nitala had spent the last few minutes getting ready, though she wasn’t sure what attire to wear to a formal dinner. She wasn’t used to these customs so she quickly tried to do some research to see if she could get any idea of what was formal ware. She picked a nice dress that looked appropriate, light blue color, and ankle length where she wouldn’t be stepping on it as she walked. Once she was satisfied with how she looked, she walked out and headed to where the dinner was located.

Checking the latest information on what has been happening in the galley, Mkana blinked and looked up. “What surprise?” As he sees Matthys walking away “Really, what surprise was he talking about?” Mkana was not the biggest fan of surprises. 

“Must we go to this?” Darman practically barked at his colleague and sighed. He did not see the point of such a useless endeavour as this dinner party. They were here to work and had a job to do. 

“Oh, give it up, Darman. We’re going. It would be incredibly rude to not do so.” Mereska retorted in an equally aggressive tone. Her facial expression dared Darman to push her any further on the issue. “We’ve still a couple of days until we even arrive at our destination; we need to do something to pass the time. It might as well be this. Finish getting dressed, and then let’s go.”

Darman responded with an annoyed groan but complied. “Fine. You can replicate a dish from the two of us. I’m not having anything to do with that.”

Matthys had been quick to change and was glad he was the first one to make it back to the shared common area. He was awkwardly carrying several bottles of liquor, which he ungracefully placed on the table, two bottles of real Kanar and two bottles of Saurian brandy. Matthys had managed to sweet talk their barkeep on the Columbia into parting ways with the beverages before leaving for this mission – he figured some real liquor might come in handy.

“Computer. Dim the lights by twenty percent and play some music. Something relaxing to suit a dinner party but also slightly on the exotic side.” Matthys ordered. The computer responded with a chirp of acknowledgement and the lighting dimmed in the common area slightly, followed by some light background music.

Nitala walked in, looked around to see Matthys, and gave a soft smile. “You have outdone yourself,” she said, almost awkwardly, as she was still not used to social interaction and felt awkward.

“Thank you, Nitala.” Matthys smiled and gestured toward the replicator. “Feel free to replicate your dish and then place it on the table; we’ll get sorted here soon.”

Mereska and Darman walked into the space together; she was behind him, ready to push should he need any encouragement to complete their small journey. Once they arrived, Darman looked around at his temporary colleagues and gave a stiff nod before assuming his place at the table. Mereska took her turn at the replicator and then placed their dish off to the side before she took her own seat beside Darman, ready to jab him should he forget his manners.

“Thank you all for coming,” Matthys spoke to the group as his hands nervously clasped in front of him. He looked to Bollwyn for his own encouragement before he continued. “My grandmother used to say you could learn a lot about someone by what they enjoyed eating. I never quite understood that, but I figured it was worth giving it a go this evening. I’d like us all to introduce what you’ve brought to the table today before we get started.” 

Matthys gestured to his dish, which appeared to be some sort of pie. It had a good amount of steam coming off of it. “I’ve prepared an old favourite of mine. Chicken pot pie. My grandmother used to make this for me as a way to warm up from a nice winter hike. It’s hearty and comforting. I hope you enjoy.”  

Bollwyn smiled grateful at his friend and his efforts for this evening’s gathering. As the leader of this away mission, he took his cue to stand up next and share what he had brought. “Well, I guess I’ll go next. My dish is a spicy Deltan pasta bake that an old academy friend of mine would make once a week during my last year. It was a life saver, and one that became quite popular on campus.”

Nitala looked a bit nervous before speaking, “This might be out of the ordinary and a human dish, but it is something that I found to be my favorite once I tried it during my Academy days from a friend I was staying with.” She began before pausing, “It’s called green bean casserole.” She said with an awkward smile.

Taking a piece of the pie as last as he looked a bit at it, Mkana had only briefly heard of what chickens wear and looked at Matthys. “Chickens are those….birds that can’t fly on…Earth, right?” Taking a fork and taking a bite. He lets himself be surprised by the flavors that hit his mouth and slowly nods in approval. 

Mereska stood and gestured to the dish off to the side of her and Darman. “We wanted to share a favourite of ours. It is considered by other cultures more of a dessert, so you may want to save it as a way to polish off your meal. Larish pie. Each house on Cardassia tends to modify the recipe slightly to their own preferred balance of sweetness. This is my mother’s recipe.” 

The introduction to the various dishes was now complete. Matthys stood and smiled at the group. “Thank you everyone. I wanted to share one more surprise as well,” he gestured to the beverages on the table. “Authentic Saurian Brandy and Kanar. Please help yourselves.” Matthys quickly grabbed one of the bottles of Saurian brandy, poured his own large drink and then took a large gulp.

“We are getting spoiled here.” Mkana smiled softly, taking a glass of the brandy. 

Taking his fork and gently tapping it against the glass on the table, Bollwyn stood up. “If I can get all of your attention for a moment, I just wanted to thank Ensign Clark for organising this evening and ask you all to raise your glasses to the success of our joint mission. May our time together bring our cultures closer together.” 

“Mission leader’s log, supplemental, after encountering extreme graviton pulses in the McAllister C-5 Nebula, which forced us to eject our warp core, we have landed on a small Class O moon in the Paeko star system near the Setlik system. Though the Chawla has sustained heavy damage, everyone else is safe. The Columbia is on its way to collect us, in the meantime, we have made a camp on the edge of a tropical island. The temperatures on this moon are hotter than most places I’ve visited; however, our Cardassian friends are enjoying it.”

Bollwyn sought respite under the shelter of an alien palm tree, his face damp with sweat as he observed the binary stars ascend in the morning sky. The mission log, a small triumph amidst the vast unknown, was complete. The white sandy beach, a surreal juxtaposition of tranquillity and desolation, extended before him. The twin suns, their ethereal glow casting a spell, were a sight to behold. Yet, a knot of anxiety tightened in his stomach. Stranded on this tropical island in an unfamiliar world, Bollwyn was keenly aware of the challenges of survival. But beneath the layers of fear and exhaustion, a spark of determination flickered. This enigmatic world, a blend of beauty and peril, was both a prison and a test, and Bollwyn was resolved to face whatever challenges lay ahead with unwavering courage and determination. He had to keep everyone alive and in good spirits as they waited to be rescued by the Columbia.

The oppressive heat had driven Bollwyn to drastic measures. The bottom of his trousers now lay discarded, cut off to fashion makeshift shorts, while his Starfleet uniform jacket and undershirt had been torn off in the first few hours of their arrival. He couldn’t stand the sweltering temperatures any longer. Three days on this island had already left their mark: his skin bore a slight tan, a testament to the relentless suns, and his hair had lightened, sun-bleached from the constant exposure. Each bead of sweat and every new freckle was a reminder of the moon’s harsh embrace. 

At least they were alive; he had to remind himself of that. 

Bollwyn was not alone in his struggle against the heat. His fellow away team members had taken similar steps to cope with the relentless tropical climate, shedding layers and improvising their attire for comfort. Only the two guests from the Cardassian Union seemed unaffected, still wearing their full uniforms, showing they were not bothered by the heat and humidity. 

As Bollwyn sat contemplating their situation, he saw his friend, Clark, emerge from their shared two-person tent. Matthys, dressed in a similarly scant outfit of tattered shorts and a bare torso, approached with a sympathetic smile, carrying a water bottle. He handed it to Bollwyn, the cool liquid offering a brief respite from the relentless heat. Clark’s once neatly kept hair was now tousled and sun-streaked, matching the ruggedness of his makeshift attire. Bollwyn noticed that Clark’s fair skin had caught a slight pinkish tan on his exposed chest, with small patches of redness on his shoulders hinting at the beginning of a sunburn. Clark’s eyes, usually bright with enthusiasm, now held a glimmer of determination mixed with fatigue. The beads of sweat trickling down his face and chest mirrored Bollwyn’s struggle against the oppressive heat. Their eyes met in a moment of camaraderie, an unspoken understanding of the challenges they faced together on this alien shore.

“Morning, Matthys,” Bollwyn greeted him before taking a swig from the water bottle. “Did you sleep okay?”

Matthys groaned at the question. He had not slept well since they landed on this moon. “About as well as I could, despite feeling like I was being cooked in between napping periods.”

Bollwyn took another sip as he patted on the sand next to him, gesturing for Clark to sit next to him, as they shared the bottle of water, Bollwyn shared his thoughts about their situation. “If we could get the environmental controls on the Chawla fixed, I would suggest we all endure the next day or so in there, but without it, we would be roasted alive in there.”

“It’s not a bad idea although I don’t think we could even stand to be in that oven of a ship long enough to get those controls operational. We may roast alive, but our wonderful exchange colleagues probably would do just fine.” Matthys sighed after his reply and continued briefly, “I just want to get home. I’m done this this tropical vacation from hell.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, maybe not our Cardassian friends,” Bollwyn agreed as he passed the bottle back to Clark. “The last communique from the Columbia said they would warp around the nebula to find us. We shouldn’t be here for much longer.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Matthys held out the water bottle as if it were the most precious bottle of champagne before he took another swig.

“Good Morning,” Mereska stated as she walked over to the two Starfleet officers from the tent she left. Behind her, Darman followed her out. Both of them still seemed unaffected by their surroundings. “What a beautiful sunrise to see,” She remarked as she pointed to the horizon. “It almost reminds me of being at home on Septimus.”

“I’d prefer to be back on Cardassia,” Darman said dryly as he picked up one of the nearby camping chairs they had taken from their runabout to set up a crude area under some shelter to have their meals together. He sat in it and took a swig of his water bottle. After a second, he sniffed the air. “What is that odour?”

“Yes, what is that revoluting smell?” Mereska asked aloud.

Squinting at the two Cardassians, Bollwyn bit his bottom lip before he sniffed the air and then realised the smell was him and Clark. Without a working sonic shower and the pounding heat, personal hygiene hadn’t been a luxury they had at hand. He hadn’t noticed the smell until now.

“Not all of us can tolerate the heat,” Bollwyn reminded their Cardassian guests.

“And not all of us can tolerate such scents,” Darman countered. “Perhaps you two could go for a swim or something?”

Matthys’ posture went erect immediately, and he spat his words out at Darman, clearly having even thinner patience than his normal near non-existent amount. “Perhaps you can take that bottle and shove–” 

Bollwyn placed a light hand on his friend’s shoulder to keep him where he was and gently reminded him that they had to remain diplomatic with the Cardassians. 

The other tent opened at that point, and Nitala and Mkana appeared. 

Giving a slight stretch as Mkana looked at his fellow marooned members and notice the tension “Hope everyone had a good rest…” Mkana stated and when he sat down he notice the odor and looked at Bollwyn and Matthys and choose not to say anything by looking away. 

“As I said when we landed, if we want to survive this, then we need to-”, Bollwyn started but was stopped by Darman.

“Yes, yes, we’ve all heard the ‘working together to survive’ speech, Ensign Bollwyn. And if we are to survive this, could you two both be a bit more considerate of the rest of us?” 

Offended by that and biting his bottom lip further, Bollwyn stood up and glared at the Cardassian. “Matthys, let’s go and see if those fishing traps we set up last night have caught anything,” He said through gritted teeth. 

“What a great idea Samwell. Thank goodness some of us are useful around here,” Matthys glared at Darman but then focused his attention on Bollwyn and prepared to follow him as requested. 

“What would you like us to do while you’re away playing with the fish, Ensign?” Darman said, smirking that he had got under their skin. 

“Why don’t you go up that hill and find ourselves some more of those fruits that you and Mkana found the other day,” Bollwyn remarked. 

Darman just nodded. 

“I’ll fill up our water filter system,” Mereska said.

“Fine,” Bollwyn said as he gave Clark a look that showed he wanted to move now away from them both.

Once the men were further down the beach and away from everyone else, Bollwyn groaned loudly. “I swear, Matthys, the moment we get back to Columbia, I want to lay in one of your Tellarite mud baths for a week without thinking about Cardassians and being diplomatic.”

“I think I’m going to need to lie in a real bath for a month to get this stench off of me,” Matthys replied, not quite wanting to admit that Darman had not been wrong in his criticism of their current smell.

Bollwyn smiled at his friend and sniffed him a bit. “I don’t think we smell that bad.”

Matthys raised his arm and sniffed his own armpit; he immediately formed a disgusted look on his face. “Are you sure?”

“Musky perhaps, but can you blame us for having sweaty pits here?” He asked aloud as he briefly sniffed his armpits. 

Matthys moved closer and took a quick smell of his friend, too. “Phewf. You are even worse than I am!” He grinned and playfully jabbed him in the shoulder with his elbow.

They approached the water and instantly waded into it. “I really hope there’s something in here. I don’t think I could survive hearing Darman complain about field rations another day.”

“If there is something there, I vote we don’t let him have any of it. He’d likely complain about how we cooked it anyways.” Matthys replied, a bit spiteful in his tone.

As the water splashed against their legs, Bollwyn felt immediate relief from its coolness, soothing his sun-baked skin as he waded in up to his knees. He savoured the sensation, the gentle waves lapping against his legs offering a stark contrast to the relentless heat of the island.

As they began checking the traps, Bollwyn couldn’t resist a moment of levity. With a playful grin, he splashed a handful of water toward Clark.

The water hit Matthys on the side and back, and the cool juxtaposition of the water against his humid and clammy skin caused him to shreek dramatically. “Oh no, you didn’t!” He placed his hand on his side and stared Bollwyn down in disbelief.

Bursting out in laughter, Bollwyn chucked a load more water at Clark.

Matthys immediately responded by reaching down with his hands and throwing up as much water toward Bollwyn as he could. 

“Oh, it’s on!” Bollwyn remarked as he jumped in the air and landed on top of Clark, playfully tackling him into the water. 

They both went down with a splash, laughter ringing out as they wrestled gently in the shallows. They rolled and tussled, the water churning around them, until they were both breathless with laughter, lying side by side in the shallows, staring up at the strange sky above.

“We should really check if the traps found something,” Bollwyn said after getting his breath back and sitting up on his elbows. 

“Hopefully, there is something. I’m certain we’ve scared away any potential fish for quite some time.” Matthys smiled at his friend and was grateful he had decided to be jovial and initiate the water fight. He felt his spirits lifted some as a result of the interaction.

Before returning to the traps, they heard a voice calling for them from behind. It was Mereska. “Ensign Bollwyn, the communication beacon is active, the Columbia has just entered the system.”

“Are you sure?” Bollwyn said, surprised to hear the Columbia was entering the system as he looked at Nitala.  

“Positive,” The Cardassian woman replied. 

At that point, Mereska took a few steps into the water herself.

Glad to hear that their rescue was ahead of what they expected, Bollwyn couldn’t contain his excitement. A surge of relief and joy swept through him, and he let out a triumphant cheer that echoed across the beach. Without a second thought, he leapt onto Clark’s back, wrapping his arms around his friend’s shoulders in a triumphant embrace. Clark staggered for a moment under the unexpected weight before both tumbled backwards into the water with a massive splash. Laughter bubbled between them as they surfaced, water cascading off their faces and shoulders.

With mischievous grins, Bollwyn and Clark exchanged glances and splashed Mereska playfully. She yelped in surprise but soon joined in with a gleeful laugh, retaliating with her splash toward them. As soon as all three heard Mkana running towards them, asking if what he had just overhead told him was true, the other three all turned and splashed him. 

It had been only a little over a day since their return to Columbia, and to his surprise, Matthys had to admit he missed the ship. Their away mission, while mostly uneventful, had ended in far more drama than he would have liked – to return to the mundane routine of life on board their Galaxy-class vessel was a welcome feeling. 

Matthys had invited Bollwyn to join him on Holodeck three for their weekly mudbath, except he had changed the normal environment somewhat. Normally – there were other characters in the mix, with a background of noise to compliment the setting. Today he had arranged for fewer background characters, in their place was a small quartette of string players playing some relaxing classical tunes. The painting he had made to recognize his friend for his successful command of their away mission was contained in a floral-textured wrapping paper and placed on an easel to the right of the bath. 

Entering the holodeck, wearing just a T-shirt, shorts, and sandals, Bollwyn was surprised to see the more calming, serene scene before him. Hearing the music being played in the background, Bollwyn was intrigued to see what was going on and what Clark had planned. Walking around a bit, he saw the top of his friend’s head in between branches; he pushed his way through and saw their usual place of relaxation. 

Just as his friend had entered the holodeck, Matthys had stripped and was mid-walk into the bath. He smiled and waved at Bollwyn while he continued his descent into the hot and warm liquid. “Glad you could make it, Samwell.”

“As I told you, I wanted to do this after our little trip to that ocean moon,” Bollwyn remarked as he started to strip. He paused after kicking his footwear off and pulling his top over his head as he noticed the easel with the wrapped canvas on it. “What’s that?” He pointed at. 

“Oh, that…” Matthys wasn’t sure why he was getting butterflies in his stomach now. Not that gifting something personal like that was something he frequented but it was just that, a gift of friendship. “Well – I – I made it for you.”

“For me?” Bollwyn said, surprised at the gesture. “What is it?” He asked as he approached it and gestured if it was okay for him to unwrap it. After Clark gave him a nod, he carefully pulled the paper off it. 

“I know it’s not necessarily practical at the moment but it’s something you can maybe hang up when we get out of those bunks and into larger quarters someday.” Matthys watched intently as his friend unwrapped the painting. He had never shared with Bollwyn that this was his passionate hobby, nor that if he had the choice, he would give up his Starfleet career altogether at a moment’s notice if he could be an artist. 

Staring at the picture, Bollwyn was touched by his friend’s generosity. “Did you paint this yourself, Matthys?” 

“I did. It’s a portrait of the McAllister nebula to commemorate your command of that away mission.” Matthys looked at his friend closely, trying to read his reaction. He had painted this prior to their actual mission, so he was uncertain how he would feel about a reminder of how the actual mission had turned into a marooning on a hostile temperature moon. 

Grinning at it, Bollwyn thanked his friend one more time. “It’s great, and yeah, once we get our own quarters, I’ll make sure it’s the first thing I put up.” He took one more glance at it. “Matthys, you’ve got a real talent there. Why are you in Starfleet?” He asked half-heartedly. 

“Trust me. I would do that all the time if I could…” Matthys’ smile briefly faded, but only for a moment. He didn’t want to sour the moment with his own family drama and struggles.

“Well, don’t give up doing it,” Bollwyn said. “Perhaps you can show me? I was never really arty back on Ventax.”

“I would be happy to give you some lessons. Sounds like a date to me,” Matthys smiled but looked slightly panicked after his brain caught up and he realized what he had labelled the art session as. “I mean, it’ll be a fun connect – not a date like that – yeah.” 

Deciding he couldn’t wait any longer to get into the mud bath, Bollwyn removed his final items and jumped in beside Clark.  Straight away, the soothing feel embraced him like a tight hug. “This is perfection,” He sighed.

“It truly is.” Matthys closed his eyes and sighed in the embrace of the bath as well. “I didn’t think I’d want to be in anything warm after our time on that moon, but this will never get old to me.” 

“Are we still on for drinks later with Mkana and Nitala?” Bollwyn asked as he closed his eyes and sank further into the mud. 

“You’ve always got me in any phrase that has the word drinks in it.” Matthys opened his eyes and looked at his friend with a smile. “They did confirm earlier, so I think we’re a go.”

“At least this time, we don’t need to worry about drinking anymore, Kanar, to be diplomatic,” Bollwyn remarked with a slight smirk. “Here’s to hoping we have a boring few more months, no more away missions with other alien governments.”

“Speaking of that.” Matthys turned slightly and faced Bollwyn straight on. “Despite the fact I adore you. If you ever volunteer me for an away mission like that again. I will shove you out the nearest airlock without a moment’s hesitation.” He tried to maintain a serious expression as he provided the threat to his friend.

As he sank further into the mud, Bollwyn smirked. “Don’t worry, Matty. If I volunteer myself for an away mission any time, I’ll be shoving myself out of the nearest airlock without a moment’s hesitation,” he chuckled before quickly flicking some mud at his friend’s face.

Sonia stepped into the transporter room, the helmet of her EVA suit tucked under her arm, as she waited for Gil Droc to arrive before they continued work about the wrecks from the Dominion war. Setting down the helmet on the transporter pad she couldn’t help but fidget, “Why are these so uncomfortable,” she muttered to herself as she tried to adjust the suit so it didn’t pinch awkwardly.

As she did the door opened behind her and Lieutenant Commander Ortega stepped in with her usual stern look on her face. “Ensign, What are you doing?” she said as Sonia had been adjusting the neckline of the EVA interior suit.

Surprised Sonia jumped to attention almost knocking her helmet to the floor, “Commander?! Oh, just adjusted the neckline. What can I help you with?”

Ortega let out a snort, “I was passing by and knew you were about to beam over. I have an updated list of ships and new orders. Ensign Maddox will be joining you and Gil Droc. Your new ship is a Dominion Cruiser; the partial remains of it anyway. Be careful over there.” She turned to leave and paused, “Is the suit on properly?”

“Yes, Commander, I just, well, I fidget a bit when I am in them and not on an EVA,” Sonia remarked.

“Ah,” Ortega said and left.

A moment later Droc stepped in, with a box of tools for the work. “Morning Ensign Jeden, I assume those are new orders?”

Sonia smiled at her Cardassian counterpart, “Yes, we are off to a Dominion Cruiser, partially intact, and one of my colleagues, Ensign Maddox, will be joining.”

Tav hurtled down the corridor. He was late! He was told it was a ‘last minute assignment,’ but in this case, it was more like, ‘Hey you were due in the transporter room the last minute displayed on your chronometer.’ Juggling his scanning equipment in one hand, he clipped some maintenance equipment to his EVA suit with the other, he stumbled out of the hallway and into the transporter room.

“Hey Jeden, or Sonia? Please tell me your preference. Sorry I’m late, I didn’t get this assignment until after the deadline to be here. I’m ready though, you can count on me. I practically lived in these things my teenage years.” Tav then turned to the new face in the room. “Gil Droc, yes? I’m ensign Maddox. Nice to meet you, feel free to call me Tav if you wish. We’re a little less formal when it’s just the ensigns.” 

Sonia nodded to Tav, “Hey, it’s been a while.” She stepped up onto the pad before looking back at Tav quickly before she snapped her helmet into place, “Sonia is fine by the way.”

Gil Droc stepped forward and offered Tav his hand in a very human gesture, “Nice to meet you Ensign Maddox, well Tav. It will be good to have another person to help with this work.” He stopped for a moment and thought back to the events aboard the Germonio, “Let’s hope today is less eventful than yesterday though.”

Tav took the hand and shook it, smiling warmly. That was a nice reach across the isle, adopting a human greeting. “Hey if we just get there, grab some tech, and get home without a scratch on us, I’m fine with that. I get excited getting home in one piece, no need to risk my life!” Tav shuddered quickly. He could steel himself, if the situation called for it, but he didn’t mind leaving the phaser in his holster. Security just wasn’t his calling.

The interior of the battle-scarred wreckage of the Jem’Hadar Battle cruisers lit up as the away team materialized inside what was once a cargo bay.  

Sonia blinked for a moment while she reoriented herself and marvelled, yet again, that the only thing protecting her from the cold vacuum of space was a very small amount of fabric and alloy. Slowly she turned around and stopped when she looked out onto the scrapyard through what should have been the back half of the cargo bay “I don’t think this ship will have the same luck as the last one,” she muttered.

Droc nodded in agreement as he looked back at the partially opened door to the main corridor. “Engineering first again? There is another cargo bay on deck up from here also. Could be worth checking.”

Peering into the dark corners of the cargo bay, Tav shuddered. He knew nothing was there waiting (because he had scanned the room upon materializing), but sometimes you just can’t shake that feeling. What lurks in the dark? “Do we want to split up? I can head towards engineering. Or we can stick together, if you two think we might encounter any obstacles requiring a little teamwork?” Tav asked his companions. He started heading towards the door, aiming his tricorder in front of him. Regardless of his destination, he sure didn’t know the way there, so he’d have to build a map as he went.

Tav almost ran into the cargo bay door, expecting it to open. Of course not, power was off-line. Tav checked his tricorder again, then pried a nearby panel off the wall. It didn’t look the same as you’d see on a Federation starship, but there are only so many ways one can design a manual door crank. Tav spotted the handle and put in a little elbow grease. The door slowly cranked open to an empty hallway. Taking one step out, Tav stopped and turned to peer at Sonia and Droc. “Looks like down this hallway we can find engineering, and their equivalent of a Jeffries tube to get up a level. You ever spend any time on one of these, Droc? Is there a better way forward?” Tav asked, smiling.

Droc glanced down the hallway and shook his head. “Nope, first time being on one of these. I am familiar with the ship design though as a handful are still used by the CDS.”  

Sonia followed the two into the hallway without pause and looked at the Jeffries tube, “Let’s clear engineering first since it is closer then we can move onto the other cargo bay. There shouldn’t be much else of interest on this ship.”

Tav barely looked up from his tricorder, just following the map it laid out for him as they walked. Before he knew it, he stood in front of some big bulkhead doors. The translator in his tricorder told him it said “engine room.” They couldn’t just call it Engineering, you know, for continuity’s sake? About to reach for the manual door crank again, Tav stopped. There was a hole in the wall next to the doors. Looks like some sort of power relay exploded, leaving a nice entryway. He waved to his companions and stepped through.

Engineering was surprisingly tidy. Tav’s tricorder told him there was actually surprisingly little damage here, other than that from overloading power relays and junctions. “Death by a thousand cuts, I guess? Looks like no weapons damage reached their engine room. Might be able to find something worth taking. Sonia, you wanna call the shots? You were assigned to the mission before me, you get first dibs on the juicy loot.” Tav grinned and hoped it would show through his EV suit. He wasn’t interested in looting; seemed disrespectful, even if these guys had been an invading force into our quadrant, trying to quash our way of life. Especially the Jem Hadar – they were literally just doing what they were made to do. That being said, this ship creeped him out, and Tav was trying to make enough jokes to forget about it.

Sonia nodded followed by a quick, “Sure,” as she yelled forward. Taking a quick look around her eyes settled on the core, “Tav, can you get a full readout done on their intermix chamber and connected systems? Droc, can you look at their power relays throughout engineering, from what I recall they were pretty robust.”

Drocnodded and made his way to the nearest access panel but stopped short as he knelt down, “Ensign Jeden, this panel isn’t closed properly.” He reached out and lifted the handle, opening the panel. It swung open and the loose ends of wires spilled out, after a moment of investigation he turned slightly, “Looks like someone cut these wires and removed the relay. There is some residual heat on it as well, it couldn’t be more than 30 minutes old.”

Tav immediately stood up and swung around, eyes peering into the dark. Was somebody still here? Adjusting his tricorder to scan for life forms, Tav started a slow sweep of the surrounding area. There! … Wait, was that something? Yes, the tricorder flashed its indications once again, confirming the reading. “I think I’m picking up two lifeforms, in EV suits! Looks like they’re two decks above us, but I can’t get a reading on species. It doesn’t look like they’re moving at the moment, maybe they’ve found something else to scavenge?” Tav glanced at Sonia, wondering what the next step was.

Before Tav could get a response, his tricorder bleeped a new development. “Oh, well, they’re on the move. I wonder if they noticed us? If I’m reading this layout correctly, they could be headed towards some sort of astrometrics lab?” Tav looked at Droc for confirmation.

Droc consulted his scanning equipment before replying. “Possibly. But there is also a small shuttle bay in that direction. If they brought their ship in there, and powered it down, that would explain why it didn’t register on our initial scans.”

“So, I didn’t really want to get in a firefight in an EV suit today… But if they took tech, I think we have to stop them, right? I think maybe we should head straight for the shuttle bay. Even if they aren’t going there now, they will eventually. Maybe we can catch them unaware?” Tav slung his tricorder strap over his shoulder and shifted it to his off-hand. With his left, he drew his phaser from its holster on his hip. 

Sonia shock her head in frustration, “We cannot let them get off this ship. If they are New Maqui, who knows what they may have taken with them. Let’s see if we can get ahead of them.” She switched her com-channel to the Columbia before continuing. 

“Columbia,  this is Ensign Jeden. We have detected two life signs on the Dominion Cruiser we are inspecting and have found evidence that some equipment has been removed. I need a transport to the following coordinates to get us between them and their suspected ship location.” As he spoke she transmitted the coordinates to the ship.

“Ensign Jeden, let me confirm.”

A moment later her coms activated again and Ortega’s voice came over the coms, “Jeden, can you confirm that you only detect two life signs.” Sonia glanced back at Tav who nodded before she spoke.

“I can confirm, that. All our tricorders are reading only two.”

“Very well, transport in 10 seconds. Stay staff. Ortega out.”

The team materialized in a heavily damaged corridor that ran adjacent to the small shuttle bay. As they materialized Droc pulled out his tricorder and nodded as he scanned the surrounding. “They are heading this way, we should be able to cut them off at the junction 10 meters ahead.”

Tav whipped his head about, taking in the scene. Wreckage falling from the ceiling. Wall paneling peeling off like paint. The shuttle bay door was up ahead of them about 10 meters, on the left hand side. He was about to ask Sonia if she thought they should wait in the shuttle bay or here, when his EV suit let  him know the deck was rumbling a little. Approaching footsteps – they didn’t have time to get into the shuttlebay. Tav gestured to the intersection directly behind them, and they took cover behind the walls and fallen debris. Tav tried to wipe the sweat from his brow, forgetting he was inside a suit. “Better not drip in my eye once the phasers start firing,” Tav thought to himself. Then he raised his phaser and waited.

The wait was brief. Two EV suits of a design he didn’t recognize turned the corner, about 20 meters ahead. They jerked in surprise when they caught sight of the three phasers pointing their way, but one was too slow to dodge. The figure on the left crumpled as two of the three directed energy beams slammed into their body. Tav wasn’t sure who had actually landed a shot. He was firing quickly, and probably a little sloppily. A trained security officer (or perhaps, just a more seasoned officer) would’ve been more calm, collected, and sure of himself. But not Tav. This was his first real firefight, and he was nervous. 

The other Maqui pirate had been quicker on their feet, and ducked behind a fallen ceiling panel. It was providing good enough cover to allow them to return fire….

Phaser fire erupted down the corridor as the remaining New Maquis member fired haphazardly.

Sonia peered around the corner before quickly pulling back, “This is a restricted location, lay down your wepaons. Your escape route is blocked off, no harm will come to you.”

She glanced over at Droc and Tavi as she waited for a response and was pleasantly surprised by the lack of fire. “Maybe it worked…” she said over their private Comms to which Droc just shrugged.

After tense few seconds the coms crackled and a quiet voice came over the coms, “Verywell federation.”

Sonia motioned for Droc to move forward , phasers at the ready as she expected a trick. As they moved forward the New Maquis member jumped up and began to aim his phaser at Sonia. Before he was able to pull the trigger Droc fired and the stun bolt struck him in the chest.

Quickly making her way over to both of the stunned Maquis he confirmed they were out of the fight. “Ensign Jeden to Columbia, we have two hostiles in custody. They are stunned and need medical attention. Can you beam them to the brig?”

“Confirmed Ensign, transporting now.”

The two stunned figures vanished and Sonia turned back to Tavi and Droc. “Guess we should wrap up here and get back to the ship.”