Shore Leave December 2401

Shore Leave on the Valkyrie

The Worst 48 Hours – 1

USS Cromwell NCC-72819/Sector Z-6, Class-M Planet
April 2401

Tanna woke to the sound of birds singing and chirping in the trees around base camp. She stretched and rolled over, her hand falling on the empty half of the large cot that had been her bed for the last few weeks. Then, the strong smell of freshly brewed coffee and savory foods, in addition to some beautifully soft singing wafted in from the other side of a curtain wall, telling her immediately where her missing companion was. The tent which had been their temporary home was a large, heavy canvas cabin tent, replicated from historical example. It was a light cream colour, allowing all the light from the sun to stream in and keep the interior well lit. She moved to the edge of the bed, reached down and picked up a t-shirt from the floor. It was many sizes too big for her, black in color with the word TRON printed on it in stylistic neon letter.

“Finally awake then, sleepyhead?” said the voice from the far side of the curtain. “Well hurry up then. You’re breakfast is ready, and your coffee is getting cold.”

Tanna pulled aside the curtain wall and stepped into the other half of the tent. Standing by an old cooking stove was Abigail. A mass of wavy red hair completely hid her head from the back, and finished just below her shoulders. She was also dressed in a oversized t-shirt, but this one was grey, and long white socks with three blue rings at the top, just below the knee. Tanna walked up behind her, and hugged her around the middle while placing her chin on Abigail’s shoulder. “Good morning” she said as she reached one hand out in front of them and grabbed one of the coffee cups. She let go with a small chuckle and stepped back, taking a drink from the cup. “Mmmm” she said slowly, taking another long drink, “Just right.”

“Of course it’s just right.” Abigail said playfully, “I’ve been making you coffee in the morning now for 8 months, I should know it by now. Now eat your breakfast. We’re on duty in an hour.”

Tanna snapped to attention. “Yes Ma’am, Lieutenant Ma’am” she said dutifully.

Abigail tossed a cloth she had been holding into Tanna’s face. “Junior Grade.” she said with an exasperated sigh. “You’re not still on that, are you? Cuz if you are….”

“Ooh,” Tanna interrupted with a laugh, “You’ll put me in the brig?” She sat down at the table and sipped at her coffee, enjoying every mouthful and making eyes at Abigail while she finished preparing breakfast.

“Don’t tempt me” Abigail said, sitting down at the table with a plate in each hand, and set one down in front of Tanna. “Two eggs, a few pieces of bacon, and some buttered toast. That should keep us until lunch. Oh, that reminds me, We’ve got to finish getting our samples by 1300 sharp. Scans say a big storm is headed our way.”

Indeed, the soft pattering of rain could already be heard on the canvas roof as the pair changed into their uniforms and headed out into the Base Camp. There were 30 people in this particular away team, a joint venture between the Federation, and the Romulan Empire to explore brand new lifeforms on this particular M-Class planet, nestled in the Romulan Neutral Zone.


 

Away Team, this is the Cromwell. How’s it going down there?” came the voice of Lieutenant Commander Sejar, The Cromwell’s Chief Science Officer.

Tanna tapped her comm badge, “Everything is coming along great, Commander.” she said, “I think we are almost done studying the migration patterns of the creature in the temperate climate. We should be wrapped up in a week or so, if the weather holds.”

“Good Work, Ensign” Sejar replied, “You’ve done good work down there. Our scans show a large storm moving over your position. It looks like it’s going to settle in on your team. There will most likely be some communications interference from the looks of it, so you’ll have a couple days of privacy.” 

“Sounds good Commander,” Tanna said. “We’ll catch you on the flip side.” She tapped her comm badge again and began her final scans. The rain had been growing steadily heavier as the morning wore into the afternoon, and she was glad that she would soon be done, and could spend a few days doing her favorite thing with her favorite person. Watching old movies with Abigail.

By the time Abigail and Tanna met back up just outside the door of their tent, the rain was coming down so hard the other side of camp could not be seen. Lightning streaked across the sky, and thunder boomed in their ears. The pair dove through the front door of the tent, throwing the zipper down behind them.

“Not a moment too soon, hey Abbie?” said Tanna as she started to peel off her soaking wet tunic.

“I can’t believe how quickly that came at us.” Abigail said with a chuckle. She crossed to a small electric fireplace, that resembled an ancient wood stove, and switched it on. Inside, holographic flames sprang to life, and the unit started radiating heat. Abigail held her hand out to it, feeling the warmth chase the cold and damp from them. After a moment of warming herself, she too pulled off her tunic and hung it on a line hanging over the heater.

Tanna joined her after a moment, hanging her teal science tunic next to Abigail’s gold one. They both stood there for a good while, turning every once in a while to warm every part of their bodies. Tanna was the first to break off, walking to the bedroom half of the tent and returning after a moment wearing a thick knit sweater, and soft grey sweatpants. She went to the stove and began to heat up some milk. “Hot chocolate, love?” Tanna called to Abigail, who had herself disappeared behind the curtain to change.

“Ooh, yes please” Abigail replied, emerging from behind the curtain carrying a thick blanket and a small handheld DVD player. She sat down on a small but comfortable couch positioned close to the heater and asked over her shoulder “Can we watch Blade again?”

“You and that movie” chuckled Tanna, “I don’t know if I’ll ever understand why you enjoy it so much.” She turned off the burner and poured the hot chocolate into two large mugs, making sure to add some mini marshmallows to each. She crossed the tent towards her companion, and handed one of the mugs off to her. Abbie took it with both hands and gave it a long sniff, then took a sip. She definitely preferred actual hot chocolate to the replicator stuff by far, mostly because her mom had taught her to make it with milk instead of water.


 

The two spent the rest of the afternoon this way, huddled together and watching movies until they both became aware they were quite hungry. Tanna stood up and requested a hearty beef stew with a rich, dark broth and plump white dumplings from the replicator and the pair sat at the table to eat. After the meal was finished, Tanna placed the dishes back in the replicator and they both sat back down on the couch, ready to continue. Just before Abigail hit play, she froze suddenly in place. She brought her finger to her lips as an indication to Tanna to stay silent. Tanna strained her ears to try and hear whatever sound had made Abigail stop, but she could only hear the torrential rains pouring down around them. Abigail stood slowly, and began creeping to the back half of the tent. Tanna stood up as well, ready to act however Abbie told her to.

Abbie came back after a moment, carrying a large silver case. She placed it on the floor in front of Tanna, and whispered under her breath, “I think I saw something walk past the window. Better put this on, just to be safe.” Tanna now noticed Abigail had donned a subdued Starfleet uniform, Which was all black aside from a yellow division stripe across the chest. Tanna opened the cest to find a few more of these uniforms, two phaser rifles, and two handheld phasers. She changed quickly, and strapped the belt and holster around her waist. Abbie handed her one of the rifles, and then shoved the type 2 into Tanna’s holster.

“Why are we arming up, Abbie? ” Tanns asked quietly, looking deeply into her partner’s eyes, “What did you see out there?”

“I’m not sure” Abigail replied, “It looked like a Reman. Could be nothing, but I want to be sure.” She leaned in and gave Tanna a long, passionate kiss. “Stay close to me. Let’s go see if we can figure this out.”

The pair moved towards the tent door, and Abigail opened it as slowly and quietly as possible. She peeked her head outside for a second, then ducked back in. “I don’t see anything.” she said,  “Let’s get to the lab.”  They crossed the camp and hid behind another tent. Tanna had to admit, nothing looked out of the ordinary to her. There weren’t a lot of people outside because of the rain, but every now and again, someone could be seen racing across the compound. Abigail must have noticed this as well, because she slung her rifle across her back, and stood upright, and made a beeline for the main lab in the center of the compound. Tanna, still following closely, also tossed her rifle strap over her shoulder.  They made it to the lab doors, and went into the office, where they found the head Romulan scientist seated behind his desk, holding a PADD in his hands.

“Sorry to intrude, Sir.” Abigail said, “I need to bring something to your attention.”

“What is it, Lieutenant?” He replied, a little impatiently.

“I think I saw a Reman outside my tent a few minutes ago, Sir.” Abigail reported.

As if on cue, a large blast was set off on the far side of the camp that rocked the lab. All at once, the darkening sky out the windows lit up with strobing green light of disruptor fire. Cries and screams started filling the air, as the camps inhabitants started running from wherever they were to the lab. Abigail rushed to the door, firing her phaser rifle at the dark shapes advancing towards them. The Romulan officer ran to a switch on the far wall and flipped it, and large bright lights snapped on in a circle around the roof of the lab, bathing the whole camp in light.

“Tanna!” she shouted, “Give me a hand covering these people!”

Tanna shouldered her rifle and ran  to the door. She put her back to Abigail’s and pulled the trigger into the darkness at the edge of the lights, as beams of green energy flashed past her from both directions. As people made it to the lab, Tanna and Abigail split to allow them through the door. Another security officer showed up, also in combat gear, also returning fire on the intruders, with a romulan scientist in tow. He took up a position at the foot of the stairs, firing in both directions periodically.

Tanna looked on in horror as a group of five were shot down in front of her, just a few feet from where she was standing. The ground around the lab was now littered with bodies, both dead and dying. The trio was joined by two Romulan officers carrying disruptors of their own, informing them the rest of the camp had been emptied. They group on the stairs ducked inside after them, shutting the door and locking it behind them.

A new posting, the USS Valkyrie

Shuttlecraft
December 2401

Flint was brought back to his senses when the shuttlecraft docked with the USS Valkyrie. A small shunt while it settled down made him come back to life while he was deep in his thoughts.

“We have arrived” said the helmsman with a chipper sound.

The door hissed sharply as it opened, and the air populated inside the craft itself. It smelt fresh and clean, something Flint was not used to in his last posting. “The smell of chalk and burnt rubber seems to be missing” he thought.

Standing up and grabbing his bag he had to bow his head slightly to avoid slamming it into the door frame, heading down the ramp he could see the arrival was pretty quiet, he had heard most of the ship was away on shore leave and did anticipate as much, although, he preferred it like this, he could get accustomed to life without the fuss of pleasing people from the off.

He heard good things about the Valkryie, especially its background in previous missions, he was apprehensive in trying to fit in with the looming recent deaths of his parents over his head but he was determined not to let it shroud his judgement throughout his new posting.

Flint had some partial say in his transfer originally but it seems his skillset was being underutilized on the Callisto, he was hoping to put his talents to better use here.

Walking towards the corridor and leaving the shuttle bay he requested directions to the CO’s office for initial check-in, the display lit up and set him on his way.

Reveries

Onboard USS Lirpa In transit to USS Valkyrie via Starbase 93
December 15th, 2401

USS Lirpa (NCC 61843)

On approach to Starbase 93

Year: 2401

 

Lt (j.g.) David Martel stood alone in the Lirpa’s small observation deck with his two bags that contained his personal effects. Not much to show for his time in Starfleet, though to be fair his time hadn’t been very long so fair enough. Space was at a premium on a Saber class anyway. He was nervous. Nervous like he had been as he had been as he had arrived at the Academy and as he had been as he had arrived at his first posting, the USS Callisto. The Cally had used her excellent sensor suite to good effect, guiding in other ships and throwing some punches of her own. Honestly the pirates ran first and fought rarely unless cornered.

 

The pirates weren’t much of a challenge really, though I guess that’s supposed to be a good thing, David smiled a crooked smile, part of him didn’t agree and he could admit it. Not out loud of course.

 

He thought of all the advice he had received over the past six years. Classmates, instructors, superior officers and colleagues. So many observations and snippets of wisdom. He tried to remember it all, but knew some had slipped through the net of his memory. He could only hope he could dredge them up from the depths of his memory when he needed them most. One piece of advice that always seemed to follow him around was variants of “Think things through.” His parents had been the first to state this, but certainly hadn’t been the last. David frowned as he thought of his parents. 

 

He had been a bit neglectful about talking to them lately. He usually tried for once a week, but he had been so busy with his promotion and transfer from the Callisto to the Valkyrie he hadn’t spoke to or even messaged them for almost three weeks now. He’d have to rectify that very soon. As he thought of his parents, memories began to float up slowly, as if coming from the deep ocean. He stared out at the warp distorted stars….and remembered.

 

Martel Residence

New Berlin, Luna, Sol

Year: 2395

 

“Alright you three, get ready for dinner, it’s almost done.”, Simone Martel called out from the kitchen to her husband and two sons. She loved to cook, she was old fashioned like that. Didn’t hurt she was actually really good at it.

“Yes, MA’AM!” Talon and his son David said in unison, using a mock military style tone. The younger brother, Adam smiled but didn’t follow suit which, despite being fourteen probably marked him out as the most intelligent of the three. As if to prove this point, Simone stuck her head out of the kitchen entrance and looked at her husband and eldest son with an arched eyebrow, delicious smells following in her head’s wake.

 

“Can’t you two EVER be serious?”, she asked.

Father and son shared a look and then David began to speak, “Well I tried it once mom but….”, David’s voice trailed off as he saw his mother’s eyes narrow, leaving whatever joke he had in mind unspoken forever.

 

Talon cleared his throat and said, “Let’s head out to the porch, son.”, clapping David on the shoulder.

 

“Wise.”, Simone stated with a too bright smile.

 

This interplay was a game the family often played, though while both Simone and Talon had both had long and distinguished careers in Starfleet Intelligence, Simone had been the more hard edged of the two and it showed even here. As father and sons got up and headed to the door there was a sharp, “Not you, you get to help set the table.” from Simone.

 

Adam turned and when he realized he was the target of the command looked like he was about to complain but cut himself off before he began. He was always smart like that. As David headed to the door and Adam went to gather plates and utensils Simone shared a long look with her husband, all traces of amused irritation gone and replaced with a certain pensiveness. They shared a knowing nod that only 24 years of marriage could interpret and Simone turned back to the kitchen as Talon stepped out into the fading holographic sunset.

 

David was leaning on the porch rail looking out at the neighboring houses. He’d always liked New Berlin. Peaceful without boredom, he had called this place home for the past four years and considered it as close to a homeworld as he could get. Growing up on Starbases and Starships had been interesting to be sure, but they’d never felt like HOME. New Berlin did.

 

Talon walked up next to David and staked out his own piece of rail. He smoothed his mustache thoughtfully as he thought about his next words.

 

“Dave, you know we are very proud of you.”

 

David turned his head towards his father at his uncharacteristically serious tone. “What’s wrong, Pop?”

 

Talon sighed heavily as he stared at the sunset, “Nothing is wrong, Dave. We just worry. You have your heart set on Tactical, and while you know neither of us are particularly thrilled by that, it’s your life. We support you, always.”

 

David’s brows knitted but he kept quiet as he felt his father wasn’t quite done yet.

 

Talon’s eyes went distant and he suddenly said, “The Dominion War was a harsh teacher. Had us busy. Didn’t go well at first either. Your mother and I both saw things we wish we hadn’t. We knew about even more.”, Talon’s jaw clenched as memories hit him. “We both know the price of war….and you decide to potentially place yourself right in the thick of it. So we worry. Because we know.”

 

David didn’t often see this side of his father. For a moment he wasn’t sure what to say, then looked at the golds and reds of the sky and spoke, “We need doctors, scientists, explorers,” David then looked at his father as he stated his final words, “and protectors to defend them while they do the important things.”

 

Talon nodded, though David wasn’t sure if it was in agreement or unconscious reflex. Talon was thinking that not so long ago David was oftentimes getting into fights or pulling dangerous stunts to get others to laugh.

 

Suddenly Talon reached over, grabbed David’s shoulders and turned him towards him, staring in his eyes with a ferocity that David was certain he had never seen before. Talon began to speak with a quiet intensity that was at odds with his normally loud jokes and booming laugh. This look alone was enough to cow David into silence.

 

“You listen to me boy, and listen with both ears. You passed the entrance exam and by God that’s enough to make us proud alone, but that was the easy part. Now the hard part begins. You have to think things through. You’ve gotten better over the past year and a half but you still have a touch of the brawling rogue to you, boy. Starfleet will not have it. Absolutely will. Not. Have it.”, Talon put hard emphasis on each of his last few words and David stared up at his father in near shock. He had never seen his father like this. This added even more gravity to his words. Before David could even stutter out a reply Talon kept speaking like an unstoppable juggernaut, “You have a good heart and a tough mind, but always remember to think things through. Slow down and don’t ruin your career before it gets off the ground. You’ve worked too hard to even get this far. You hear me?”

 

David nodded and said the only thing he could, “I will. You can count on me, Pop.”

 

With that gravely spoken statement Talon relaxed his grip on his son’s shoulders and then suddenly drew him into a crushing hug.

 

“I know we can, son. You’re one of the good ones.Sure as sure.”

 

Talon then released his son and smiled a little sheepishly, “Come on, your mother will have us doing scullery duty until you leave if we let the food get cold.”

 

David laughed, “Are you scared of Mom?”, he asked with playful mockery.

 

Talon laughed back, “Dave, the Jem’ Hadar were scared of your Mom.”

 

They were both still laughing as they walked back into the house.

 

Starfleet Academy

San Francisco, Earth, Sol

2399

 

David looked over the pristine, manicured grounds of Starfleet Academy for what he knew would be one of last times in a long time, if ever. The bright summer California sunshine etched everything into a sharp focus. He could swear he could see individual leaves. He was wandering aimlessly through the grounds, not sure what to do with himself. For the first time in four years there were no classes, study groups or extracurricular activities to rush to and fro from.

 

“Well Badger, ready to go out and knock heads for the security of the Federation?”, said a light, cheerful voice behind him. He knew it well, it had become his favorite voice in life for the past two and a half years after all.

 

Without turning, the newly minted Ensign David Martel responded, “Sure am, Doc. Think of it as job security if it helps.” David grinned as he didn’t have the also newly minted Ensign Nikkira Delann’s Betazoid mental abilities to sense the frown she was sending his way. Then he added, “And stop frowning at me like that, it’s hard to get the ice chips off my back.”

 

With a “Yooouuu.” of amused exasperation, Nikkira grabbed one of David’s arms and spun him around. He gave her an impudent grin. Ensign Nikkira Delann of Betazoid barely came up past his chin and was working on becoming a medical doctor. “Well when you call me, ‘Doc’ it’s closer to being actually true now.”, Nikkira said archly.

 

“I know”, David replied, “and I’m real proud of you, too.”

 

Nikkira grabbed both of David’s hands and held them as dark eyes looked up into green. To David, the only word he could use to describe Nikkira was ‘adorable’. With a smattering of freckles across her nose, small stature and short length black hair over pale skin, he had taken to calling her ‘Little Raven’. He loved her dearly. This is what caused his smile to falter.

 

Nikkira’s own smile turned into a sad one. “I know.”, was all she said. David looked down and grumbled something about ‘cheating’, a long standing inside joke referring to Nikkira’s empathic and telepathic abilities.

 

“Like I’d have to.”, she replied softly.

 

“I went through all that trouble to punch my way into your heart and now we have to go our separate ways.”, David said with a sudden, forced grin.

 

Nikkira was not amused, as she never was when David made this particular joke. Her response was the same as always. “You almost got expelled over that.”, she said flatly.

 

David had the decency to look a bit shamefaced and mumbled out a sort of agreement. 

 

Towards the beginning of David’s second year, at a jazz club in San Francisco, he had come across an altercation involving several members of the Academy. At a corner table, Nikkira had interposed herself between two Academy students while several others looked on. He recognized one as a fellow player from the Academy rugby team, Somyot Duangkomol, a human male from Thailand here on Earth that he had had no problems with and knew only from the team. He was an Engineering student and also seemed very irritated with another human male student with blonde hair, delicate features and half his body weight. This was an astrophysics student named Valeriy Makarov and he had been looking very uncomfortable with the situation.

 

Nikkira had been definitely trying to calm the situation down to little effect as Duangkomol kept speaking over her to berate Makarov.

 

“You think I’m stupid?! That my little walnut of a brain couldn’t even BEGIN to follow your theory?!”

 

Makarov replied with the exasperated apprehension only someone who had been grossly misunderstood could muster,”No no no! I only meant you wouldn’t understand because it’s a theory that I haven’t completed yet so how can I explain it completely?”

 

For some inexplicable reason this just made Cadet Duangkomol even angrier and as David had drawn closer he could tell alcohol had been involved. Making a snap decision David had clapped his hands and yelled, “HEY!” so loud even the bar staff headed that way had stopped in surprise. Duangkomol looked over at David and grimaced, “The hell do you want?”

 

“Leave him be Somyot, you’re drunk. Sleep it off.”, David had replied. Somyot bristled at this and started striding towards David with obvious intent. David looked into Somyot’s eyes and concluded this would not be a talking situation. Though Somyot was a fair bit taller, They weighed about the same and David’s strength went full display as without another word he punched Somyot in the jaw and dropped him. 

 

The whole situation had been surprising, from Somyot’s behavior to David’s swift escalation, and not all were happy about it. Nikkira had come up and begun to take David to task, bringing up she would’ve handled it, he had just walked in, what did he know, he was barbaric, such things as that. Makarov had caught David’s eye and mouthed a ‘Thank You’, making David grin and send an affirming hand gesture. This had the effect of intensifying Nikkira’s tirade and David was about to begin countering her words as he wasn’t one to take this kind of thing lightly and then as he had looked at her face properly for the first time and look her dead in her dark eyes….he stood there and took it.

 

Looking into the same eyes two and a half years later that feeling hadn’t dimmed, “Didn’t you chew me out enough that night? Should start calling you Mean Raven instead of Little Raven.”, he added that roguish grin that almost always got her to smile. To her credit she tried not to but failed as her mouth twisted into a smile. It then faded as she said, “You can’t joke through everything bad you know.”

 

David looked down as his own smile dropped, “I know.”, he paused and then spoke again, “We knew this going in right?”

 

Nikkira cupped David’s chin in her hand and lifted his head, “We knew this going in.”, then she cocked her head and asked, “would you have decided against it had you realized how this moment would feel?”

 

“Nah, I just don’t like this part.”

 

“Neither do I, but I certainly wouldn’t have changed a thing. Not one.”

 

Suddenly a familiar pair of bickering voices drifted towards them. Never looking from Nikkira’s eyes David spoke, “You have to be kidding me, Little Raven.”

 

Nikkira suddenly giggled, “You know this moment wouldn’t be complete without this happening.”

 

“I can’t believe I saved his life only for him to die by my own hand.”, David said almost conversationally.

 

“Be nice.”, Nikkira chided, but she was smiling.

 

Striding across the lawns was Ensign Valeriy Makarov, smiling his clueless smile while the fourth member of their little social group the Caitian pilot Ensign P’nala, was busy trying to corral Makarov away from David and Nikkira.

 

“Will you just give them a moment, you silly-“, the orange furred felinoid was saying with exasperation in her voice as she finally got Makarov to stop several meters away. The Caitian could pilot everything in existence….except Makarov. She was something of a mother hen for their little group and only Makarov could test her patience like this. She’s probably been trying to herd him away for several minutes while absently said “Hmmm?” or “It’ll be ok I just need to tell them something.” Makarov tended to fixate and be a bit socially clueless, though believe it or not his three friends had managed a bit of improvement.

 

Makarov looked over at P’nala, “I’m just going to tell them where the get together is.”, he said in an almost hurt tone. P’nala, with the patience only she seemed to have as David always said the woman was a saint, answered back gently this time, “They’ll find out in a bit, let them have their moment Valeriy.”

 

Makarov frowned for a moment and then a look of dawning realization spread across his face, “I’m doing it again aren’t I?”

 

“Just a bit, but it’s ok. Let’s meet up with them a bit later alright.”, P’nala began to steer Makarov away from David and Nikkira. She looked over her shoulder shaking her head with the Caitian equivalent of a smile. Makarov also looked over his shoulder and said loudly, “Sorry.”

 

“It’s fine, Valeriy”, Nikkira called out back.

 

While they were both still looking at the retreating pair David spoke, “He got a starship posting.”

 

“So I heard.”, Nikkira replied.

 

“I envy the captain that gets Valeriy’s mind….I also pity the captain that gets Valeriy’s mind.”

 

“Be nice, Badger.”, Nikkira giggled, then turned to David, “So, you ship out tomorrow then?”

 

David nodded, “The Callisto is all the way over in the Beta Quadrant so I need to leave pretty quick. Are you ready to start med school and learn the art of trauma medicine?”

 

It was Nikkira’s turn to nod, “Yes, but I’m nervous. I still have a long way to go. Years to go while you get to dance through the stars.”

 

David was a bit surprised by her tone, “This is what you’ve been working so hard for.”

“I know, it’s not really a logical feeling it’s just I’m staying here at Starfleet Medical and all my friends are leaving. I feel like I’m the one standing still.

 

“Hardly, Little Raven. You’re doing the REALLY important things, you know?”, drawing out a small smile from the Betazoid.

 

Suddenly Nikkira began leading David in the direction of her quarters. “Where are we headed?”, he asked.

 

“My quarters to make the most of the time we have left”, she answered.

 

“Werner doesn’t like me.”, David reminded Nikkira referring to her roommate.

 

“Werner isn’t there.”

 

“Oh.”, David replied, then the coin dropped and a more surprised, “Oh!” came out.

 

Tactical Officer’s Office

USS Callisto (NCC 80109)

2401

 

David strode into the Tactical Officer’s office, snapped to attention and stated formally, “Ensign David Martel, reporting as ordered, sir!”

 

Behind his desk, Lt. Cmdr. Orir Th’zhelron sat with antennae waving slightly and a stony glare, causing David to recount any sins real or imagined to cause the normally good natured officer to have such a look.

 

“Sit down, Lieutenant.”, the blue skinned Andorian commanded.

 

David was halfway down when he stopped and stared at the tactical officer in confusion. Orir leaned back with his trademark faint smile and added, “I didn’t gag on my words, Lieutenant, have a seat.”

 

David plopped down in the chair with his surprised look still present on his face as Orir continued, “I was glad to put you in for the promotion, but now’s the time for a bit of a talk.”

 

David looked on expectantly. He could see the commander gathering his thoughts.

 

“You’ve been evaluated and your service these past two years has been nothing but exemplary. You are competent, disciplined, intelligent and have a fighting spirit worthy of my people. That last is the one thing I would like to discuss, however.”, Orir leaned forward resting his arms on his desk with almost a hunched posture as he looked at David, “You know HOW to fight, you know WHAT to fight for, you even know WHY to fight, but every now and then you seem to lose a bit of focus about WHEN to fight.”

 

David sat quietly. He knew where this was headed. He nodded to show his attention and the commander continued.

 

“Now, if I thought this was a lesson you were incapable of learning we wouldn’t be having this conversation as I wouldn’t have allowed that extra pip that will soon be on your collar.”, Orir then stood up and stared at a pair of Ushaan-tor that he had on a display not far from his desk. These Andorian ice miner tools and weapons were sacred to them, a major symbol of their cultural identity. He spoke softly, “This lesson I am about to impart directly on to you was a difficult one for my people to learn.”, he looked back at David and grinned a very human grin, “Though we come from an ice world our blood runs hot you see. So….what are the duties of a tactical officer?” Orir wandered to the display and stared almost intently at the ushaan-tor.

 

David blinked and then spoke as if in a classroom, “Sir, a Starfleet Tactical Officer is responsible for the operation and maintenance of the shields and weapons of his vessel or starbase, the training of his subordinates and for advising his superior officers on tactical matters.”

 

“Straight from the training documents.”, Orir turned to David, “I have no doubt you can advise a captain on how to handle a tactical situation, though experience does tell.”, Orir chuckled at this and then continued as he walked around his office idly, staring various knick knacks, art and literature he had at various points, “However, it’s also a tactical officer’s job to keep a focus on when other options might come into play.”

 

David let out a confused, “Sir?”

 

“Ah, yes.”, Orir said in amusement, “they usually gloss over that part at the Academy, assuming like any good Starfleet hopeful you would be sparing with the blade. However ,who better to understand the consequences of the blade than the one who wields it?”

 

David sat in rapt attention as Orir sat at his desk and continued,”As much as the Federation and Starfleet would like to rail against it, the blade is necessary. We wouldn’t be out here chasing pirates and securing borders if it wasn’t. Yet, knowing when to fight is key. Trust in your shipmates. They know their field as you know yours. They might have a better solution. They might not. Stand your ground when you’re certain, yet listen to the other points of view and most of all if you must fight….win.”

 

Orir moved to stand and as he spoke, “To summarize, Lieutenant, be proficient with the blade but don’t keep your brain in the same scabbard. It’s a fine line to walk, not being too aggressive yet not being too soft and most importantly, think things out.”

 

‘There it was’ David thought with a grin, “The refrain of my life, sir.”, he spoke aloud.

 

Orir nodded and began to move to the office door, “On your feet, Lieutenant it’s time for the best part.”

 

David stood with a, “Sir?”

 

Orir looked back and cocked his head, “Why the pinning of course.”

 

USS Lirpa (NCC 61843)

Starbase 93

Year: 2401

 

David snapped back to the present as he saw Starbase 93 fill up the observation window, the large Unity-class Starbase growing ever closer.

Almost to the Valkyrie now, David thought to himself, feeling a sudden rush of….well not apprehension exactly, but he did have a fluttering feeling in his stomach as his new posting took another step closer to being a real, tangible thing. His comm badge warbled.

 

“Commander Sansonetti to Martel.”

 

Startled from his thoughts, David slapped his comm maybe a bit too hard as he responded to the Lirpa’s commander, “Martel here”.

 

“We will be docking at Starbase 93 momentarily, please make your way to the docking hatch.”

 

“Acknowledged, sir. On my way now.”

 

David took a deep breath and exhaled, then shouldered his bags and left the observation deck. As he strode down the corridor the ship’s whistle sounded and a baritone voice came over the ship’s speakers, “Lirpa, arriving.”

A Pleasure to be here

Ready Room, USS Valkyrie
December 2401

Captain Nassar had just about finished reading the latest report on the last mission they had completed, and she was satisfied with her crew’s performance. Considering the fact that they had first faced hallucinations and then a crime lord of questionable alignment, most of them were doing fine, albeit with support from their counsellors. In a few days, she would make time to celebrate people’s achievements.
Saffiya smiled as she reached for her cup of coffee, and reclined in her chair, savouring the moment of peace and quiet, as if knowing it wouldn’t last.
A moment later, the doorbell chimed, marking the arrival of her next appointment.

“Come in.”, she said, sat down her coffee, and turned her attention to the door.

Flint felt the door breeze against his face when it opened and was greeted with the calming scent of an office. He popped his head inside to greet his new captain, hoping he would make a good first impression this time around.

His previous post didn’t start too well, nervous behaviour and tension kicked in for his first few weeks on the USS Callisto, the team over there was on point and where he was fresh out of the academy it threw him a little bit, too the near decision of him possibly walking away from his choices early doors.

“Captain Nassar, Flint Locke reporting for duty” he said with a smile, adjusting his uniform straight.

“Welcome to the Valkyrie.”, Saffiya nodded. “I hope your journey here wasn’t unpleasant? I’v been informed there was an ion storm that had several shuttles delayed.”

She gestured for Flint to sit, and extended her had to retrieve the PADD he was carrying. She glanced over the transfer orders, and nodded to herself.

Flint stepped in and made way for the chair presented to him, he had noticed how the room was spotlessly clean and everything seemed to have a certain symmetry to every item placement.

Sitting himself down, he was unsure how to make eye contact with his new captain. These sorts of situations always took him time to adjust to, and his way of reading body language also took some time to kick in.

Flint was eager to get going here, the past few years had been a struggle with everything that had gone on in his life, he was used to structuring his behaviour, sure, but his goal in his pursuit of a fresh career path had taken a tumble with the recent news of his parents.

Finally trying not to leave a gap between the vocals he broke too long…

“Thank you for allowing me to join your crew” he said with intrigue in his tone.

The Captain offered a reassuring smile. “We are lucky to have you. Our Chief Engineer was recently transferred to another vessel, and it is a great opportunity to witness such a department being rebuilt after a change of leadership.”

Flint was happy to be entering a time with a reset, he usually ends up somewhere where it’s in full flow and usually ends up getting lost within the crowd, and dismissed.

“Since we are currently on shore leave, I don’t expect you to jump into action right away. It’s important to me that you familiarise yourself with your department, and the ship as a whole.”, she paused, considering. “Your first stop would be a room assignment with Commander Frisco, our First Officer. After that, I suppose a medical check-in is prudent, and then meeting your department head – which, as I mentioned, has recently transferred. You will be working with Lieutenant Morishita.”

Flint shifted in his seat with a nervous bite in his move, he had heard of the Lieutenant in his previous posting, he was also aware that she served on the USS Kongo, somehow managing to keep a ship that was falling on its knees, running.

”Thank you captain, I’m looking forward to meeting everyone…” he said

“Was there anything on the horizon for our next missing that we know of?”

He always liked to be ahead of the game when it came to his next step, keeping his feet pointing in the right direction was something he was accustomed to.

“We actually haven’t received orders yet.”, Nassar explained. “And my hope is that we will have some much-needed time for reviewing security protocols and pending updates. But you know how it is – we could be on our way again tomorrow.”

Flint was accustomed to the fleet life, he always knew that every moment he could be thrown into any situation that needed his skillset.

He nodded with a smile towards the Captain.

“I guess we’ll have to see.”, Nassar laughed. “Ensign, it was good meeting you. I’m looking forward to working together.”

Flint adjusted his outfit and stood up, taking one last look around the Captains office he prepared himself to leave her company.

“Thank-you Captain, it’s a pleasure to be here” he said

Turning around he headed for the door, he could already see she was head back in reports.

Approaching the door, it hissed and opened, Flint made his exit onwards to his entry check-ins.

Unexpected Changes

Sickbay, USS Valkyrie
December 2401

Vivienne felt very much uncomfortable – her default state of being, really. But ever since she had told Frisco that she was experiencing some… lasting issues after the hallucinations, she had felt like the woman had kept an eye on her. And that impression was only confirmed when she had been given an appointment with Doctor Selara to see if there was a physiological issue that caused her distress.

That didn’t mean she was looking forward to the meeting however, and caused her to be a few minutes too late. As she finally convinced herself to actually enter sickbay and not hover in front of it, she found the Doctor waiting for her.

“Hi….”, she said carefully.

“Ah, yes… Miss Claybrook, welcome,” Selara said with a smile. “Please have a seat.” She pulled up Vivienne’s medical file on a PADD. “As you no doubt guessed, Dr. Frisco asked me to perform an evaluation on you.”

“Yeah I… thought so.”, Vivienne said and exhaled. “But I am not even part of the crew.”

There was that unspoken addition that she felt almost like she had done something wrong – after all, why was she the one still struggling with the aftermath of the hallucinations, when everyone else seemed completely fine?

“Be that as it may, we are responsible for the health of everyone on board,” Selara chuckled, opening a tricorder. Selara removed the probe and scanned Vivienne’s head. “You shouldn’t fear you’re being singled out. There are still some crewmembers afflicted with residual hallucinations. It’s not unlike the PTSD found in soldiers from the Battle of Wolf 359 and the Dominion War.” The tricorder beeped, and she consulted the screen, “As I suspected, some increased activity in the hippocampus and amygdala.”

“So my brain is broken?”

Selara chuckled, “Heavens no!” She made some adjustments to the tricorder and continued scanning. “We’re seeing familiar activity in the other crew with hallucinations.” She replaced the probe and closed the tricorder. Selara turned to Vivienne, “Your activity is a bit higher, but nothing to be alarmed about.” She pulled up a chair, “What sort of hallucinations are you having? Are they more visual or auditory? Is there something that triggers them?”

Vivienne hesitated for a moment. It was difficult to explain, and despite trying to push any unreasonable hopes and dreams away from her as much as possible, she still found her mind wandering to the possibility that they weren’t hallucinations but something else.

“I am not sure what triggers them, to be honest. And they are auditory, never visual. A few days ago I was having coffee with Lieutenant Silveira, and he …. he said the one thing, but I heard other things.”, Vivienne confessed, blushing.

“I’m… not sure I understand,” Selara frowned, confused by the woman’s words.

“He… I heard him say that I look nice.”, she said, closing her eyes. “But that’s not what he said. What he said was that the coffee was really good, and I… I mean I heard that too, I just heard the other thing as well.”

Selara smiled warmly. It was always a joy to see young love. Lieutenant Silviera wasn’t an unattractive man, so she understood Vivienne’s embarrassment. She decided to pivot the conversation to another topic. “Were there any other times this happened?”

Vivienne nodded. “It happened in several instances. For example, I stood in the turbolift with Commander Rynn, and I was so sure she was complaining about engineering not fixing the thermostat in her quarters. But her lips didn’t move.”

Grabbing her PADD, Selara pulled up Vivienne’s medical record. She stood, “I’ll be back in a moment.” Selara left and returned with a small case. She opened it and took out two probes, which she attached to Vivienne’s forehead. Opening her tricorder, she pressed a few buttons and tested the readout from the probes.

“I want you to do something for me,” Selara started. “Look around the room, let your mind wander, and tell me what you hear. Not the conversations they’re saying, but the unspoken. People’s body language, sensations you feel, things like that.”

Vivienne gave a nod, but felt entirely strange doing so. It reminded her of the times she had tried to focus on what was relevant and in front of her, only to end up getting distracted by things that shouldn’t matter at all.
She turned her attention to one of the nurses moving about, waiting for any sensation to feel.

She felt cold. Was that a sensation she was supposed to feel, or was she just really miserable at choosing climate-appropriate clothing? And just when she became far too conscious of pullover, she… heard something.

“The nurse said I should stop staring at her.”, she blurted out.

Selara studied the tricorder as Vivienne spoke, “I see…” She chuckled, “Just as I suspected. You’re not experiencing hallucinations, although I understand why you’d think they were. This is a manifestation of your Betazoid abilities, specifically telepathy.”

Turning the display to Vivienne, Selara pointed to spikes on the readout. “Here are increased activities in your paracortex. Yours is underdeveloped, relative to a Betazoid that is. There is also an activation of psilosynine while you spoke.”

“I… that’s… weird. And late. And weird.”, said Vivienne, clearly not quite comprehending what that could mean.

“You’re correct about it being later than usual,” Selara admitted. “Typically Betazoid abilities manifest around puberty. It’s not entirely uncommon for them to surface later in age, particularly in those not full-blooded Betazoids.”

Selara typed some commands into a PADD and handed it to Vivienne. “I want you to try some exercises. They should help strengthen or repress your abilities, however, you wish to proceed.” Selara wasn’t an expert in telepathy but understood that not everyone wanted voices floating in their head. “Come back in a week to discuss your progress.” She made notes on her PADD, “If you decide to strengthen your abilities, I implore you to be ethical with them. Don’t read people’s minds without their permission. Unintentional moments will happen, but let people have their private thoughts.”

The young woman slowly nodded. “I have the feeling my next appointment should be with a counsellor.”, she admitted.

“I think that’s reasonable, given the sudden nature of this news,” She typed commands into her PADD, “I’m requesting Lt. Anderson reach out to you to schedule a session.” Selara searched the young woman’s body language; there was something she was missing. “Given everything here today, how are you feeling?”

“Let’s just say the fact that I didn’t seem to develop any telepathic abilities has been the reason of… well, issues… as long as I can remember. I mean… imagine you grow up in a family where everyone else has it, and you just… don’t.”, Vivienne said quietly.

Selara nodded, “I can imagine that it would make you feel like an outcast. It makes you feel like you’re missing out on a joke or barred from a secret society. Or, perhaps, your family are communicating telepathically and sharing things you’re not privy to.” She sat down next to Vivienne, “Compound those feelings over 20+ years, and it’s bound to cause resentment and loneliness to an intolerable degree. Even worse, to the point where it becomes an everyday tolerance.”

“Yeah… that.”, Vivienne sighed.

Selara smiled, “Maybe this could be the thing that resolves the issues with your family. I know the concept may be a distant thought, and it probably should be at this time, but it might be worth exploring. After consulting with Mr. Anderson, of course.”

“I will do that.”, Vivienne nodded and got up, sensing that the conversation was coming to a close, and deciding that she needed a little time to digest the news. A better relationship to that side of her family was something she had already given up on, and she wasn’t entirely sure if she wanted to rekindle that hope.

Nerves and First Impressions

Ready Room, USS Valkyrie
December 2401

_____________________________________________________________________________

    Lieutenant Junior Grade David Martel stepped out onto the Valkyrie’s bridge, got his bearings for a second, then strode purposefully towards the Captain’s Ready Room.

    He had had no time to really get settled after he had been shown his quarters. He’d had enough time to throw his bags onto his bunk and head straight here. He exchanged polite nods with the bridge crew he didn’t really see in his nervousness. He prayed it didn’t show as he got to the Ready Room doors.

   Inside, Captain Saffiya Nassar was feeling uncharacteristically on edge, and hated that she couldn’t talk to anyone about it just yet. Orders for a next mission had already come in, but for now, had to remain under wraps.
The result was a weird situation of having the time to unwind during shore leave, but not being able to do so because she anticipated breaking the news to her crew.But for now, Saffiya neatly tucked these feelings into a corner of her mind, to be revisited when the timing was more appropriate. For now, she had a new Junior Officer to greet.

“Welcome.”, she said as the doors to her Ready Room slid open, revealing the newest addition to their crew.

   David walked in and got his first view of his new Captain. She was a dark haired, dusky skinned human. She had a rather kind face, yet a somewhat intense stare that made David’s already nervous feelings step up another notch. Drawing himself up stiffly to attention, he stated formally, “Lieutenant David Martel, reporting for duty, sir.”

    The Captain offered a smile, and motioned for him to sit, while she reached for her cup of coffee, eyes flicking over to the PADD that contained Martel’s transfer orders.

“Your former Captain speaks highly of you.”, she stated. “You seem to have left a lasting impression. How are you feeling about the transfer – coming to a new ship is never easy.”

As David took his seat he relaxed slightly.

“The Callisto had a really good crew and I had a outstanding mentor in Commander Th’zhelron, sir. As for the assignment, I imagine it will be a bit different from chasing sensor echoes and pirates along the border.”, David grinned as he said this last part, then cleared his throat nervously and smoothed his face over into a professional mask.

‘How about you just make a good first impression, Badger?’, he berated himself silently.

    Out loud David continued, “As for coming to a new ship, I come from a Starfleet family, so coming to a new environment is sort of the way of things, sir.”, despite himself, David ventured a small smile.

“That’s what I like to hear, Lieutenant.”, the Captain nodded. “Should that, however, change, please do reach out. As you will find, we have a quite.. unique set-up on the Valkyrie. Presently, Lieutenant Frisco and I are juggling three jobs between us, which has resulted in an… open-door policy for my office, and a closed-door one for hers. I recognise it is not how  Starfleet usually does things – though I am aware Captain Ceix on the Callisto does the same thing – but when I say reach out, I mean it.”

“Yes, sir.”, David gave a small nod of acknowledgement.

He didn’t envy his superiors. The workload of running a starship was heavy enough as it was. Not to mention, as he recalled, Lt. Frisco was also the CMO. He winced inwardly in sympathy.

He continued, face serious again, “I’m looking forward to getting started, sir.”

“Then I won’t keep you.”, she smiled. “Please find either Lieutenant Frisco, or Lieutenant Commander Selara for your medical check-up. I would also recommend connecting with Lieutenant Silveira, he is also fairly new to the Valkyrie but might be able to show you the department.”

David took his cue and rose, “Acknowledged, sir. I’ll head straight to Sickbay.”

As David strode back out to the bridge, he decided that the first meeting with his new captain could’ve went a lot worse.

 

The Worst 48 Hours – 2

USS Cromwell NCC-72819/Sector Z-6, Class-M Planet
April 2401

The remaining expedition members sat huddled and crowded on the floor of the lab. A quick head count revealed that there were only 17 of the original 30 left alive. A din of panicked chatter filled the small space as Abigail, Tanna and the three other security officers had a huddle in the office with Centurion Puleer, the Romulan officer in charge.

“Okay.” He said. “We have two shuttlecraft here on the ground. We can make a run for them. They should hold the remaining survivors and we can get out of here.”

“There is no way we would make it to those ships with all these people.” Abigail said flatly. “Guaranteed the Remans have taken up positions watching this door. They will start firing as soon as we leave, and there aren’t enough phasers to protect this crew.”

One of the Romulan security officers spoke up. “What do you propose we do instead? Wait until they break down the door and kill us all while we’re trapped in here?”

“No, I suggest the five of us sneak out that emergency hatch over there to retrieve the ships, then use the onboard phasers to provide air support while we beam everyone out with the emergency transporters.” Abigail replied curtly.

“That sounds like a good plan.” Centurion Puleer said. “Lieutenant Holcomb, you’re in charge. Let’s mobilize now. Perhaps they are still getting into positions.”

The team then made a plan to get from the lab to the shuttlecraft. They were going to exit out the back, make a beeline for the trees, and then loop back around to the landing pads, simple and straightforward. They checked their gear, and opened the hatch. One by one, they tumbled out onto the ground. Abigail went first, then Tanna, the Romulans and finally, the other security officer brought up the rear. They were still hidden by the lights of the lab, but as soon as they left the shadow, they would be vulnerable until the trees.

The team ran, keeping as low as possible towards the trees, which were about 100 feet away from the lab on this side. About halfway the disruptors started going off, sending bolts of green energy towards the group. “Don’t stop to fire back!” Abigail shouted over her shoulder, “just fire blind and keep running!” She let off a few shots with her hand phaser in the direction of the incoming fire. The enemy shots hit the ground around them, sending mud and water up into their faces. One of the Romulans let out a scream as a disruptor bolt tore through his abdomen, but they could not stop, so they left him where he fell.

Eventually, the team made it to the edge of the landing pad. There the shuttlecraft sat, seemingly unguarded. Abigail peeked around a corner, looking for any sign of the terrorists, but none could be seen. “Okay”, she said in hoarse whisper, “This is the final stretch. We just have to make it to the door, and we should be home free.”

Tanna felt uneasy at these words. Nothing goes well when someone says that in the movies….. she thought to herself, Though, this isn’t a movie. She watched as Abigail ran across the pad to the back of the shuttlecraft, and open the door. Once the door was open, she watched her peek around the corner with her rifle, and then without looking back, wave her hand for the rest to join her. Tanna had started to run as Abigail disappeared into the interior of the small craft, and she heard the unmistakable sound of the engines firing up. Abigail had come back down the small ramp to cover their final run, and Tanna picked her head up as she closed the distance. 20 feet. 15 feet. Tanna felt her heart get light We are going to make it.

BOOM!!

The explosion took Tanna off her feet. Her ears rang, and her vision was blurry when she came to. Mud and rain were falling all around her, and smoke stung her eyes and nose from the burning Dilithium. She tried to move, but her left arm wouldn’t work. White hot pain shot up and down her side when she tried. With effort, she brought her right hand over. Horror overcame her as she turned to look at what her hand felt. A large piece of twisted metal was protruding wickedly from her left shoulder; It was still hot to the touch. She felt around the wound. The underside of her arm had been completely severed, and she knew a few of her ribs had been broken too.

Abigail! She thought to herself, suddenly panicking. The hit of adrenaline cleared her mind, and she wrenched herself up from the ground, scanning her surroundings quickly. The burning wreck of the shuttlecraft hissed and popped, but there was no body immediately behind it. Tanna stood slowly, letting a scream of pain escape her mouth as she straightened up. She cradled her useless arm in her other hand, stumbling towards the ship. “Abbie!” she shouted, as loudly as she could. “Abbie, can you hear me! Where are you!?” She strained, her ears still ringing, hoping to hear Abigail’s voice return her call.

“Tanna” came a weak voice, “Over here.” Abigail had heard the device wind up, and took off at a run as fast as she could before the ship blew up, but she didn’t get far enough away. Tanna eventually found her, laying face up in the mud, and Tanna collapsed to the ground beside her. She shuffled herself closer, picking up Abigail’s head and placing it in her lap. Her red hair had been mostly burnt off, and her head was badly cut and bleeding heavily. There was a large, ugly wound on her side, and Tanna could see buts of shattered bone and shredded organs peeking through the burnt scraps of Abigail’s uniform.

“Tanna” Abigail said weakly, raising her hand to touch Tanna on the cheek. “I was afraid I wouldn’t get to see you before I left.”

Tanna stroked her remaining hair gently. “You’re not going anywhere, my love” she said, her voice breaking. “You’re going to stay here with me.”

“You and I both know that’s not going to happen.” Abigail replied, as a tear rolled down her cheek. “Just hold me until I go.”

“I don’t want you to go.” Tanna said sternly, “You’re not allowed.”

Abigail smiled. “You can’t give me orders.” she said, “I outrank you, remember?” Tanna sobbed heavily with these words. “Just promise me you’ll stay strong. Live for both of us, and I’ll always be with you.” Abigail’s eyes closed slowly. “I love you, Tanna. I’ll always love you.” she said quietly.  Her breathing got quick and shallow, and eventually, she stopped breathing at all. She lay unmoving, eyes closed. Tanna stared with disbelief. Even now, she was so beautiful.

Tanna screamed and howled in pain and anger, unable to move or think. She sat there, in the open, whimpering softly and cradling Abigail’s head in her lap. A hand came to rest gently on her shoulder. “Come on, we’ve got to get back to the lab” said the voice.

“No!” Tanna said, covering Abigail’s face with her body. “I can’t leave her here!”

“If you stay here, you’re gonna die! We can come back for her when this is over!” he replied. “Now get up!” He had his hand under arm, pulling her to her feet.

Inveniam Viam

Sickbay, USS Valkyrie
December 2401

Dr. Selara Medical Log, Patient Kali Genan, supplemental.

Lieutenant Kali initially presented with hallucinations as the result of being near the subspace distortions. She wasn’t a member of the away team, or aboard the civilian vessel, so this should minimize hallucinations. Unfortunately, this is not the case.

Her hallucinations were relatively benign, but have grown in intensity. The phenomenon is peculiar because most of the crew’s hallucinations are waning. I’ve considered a few far-fetched ideas, like treatments for tropolisine and even temporal psychosis. I’ve administered 25 milligrams of inaprovaline, as per protocol, but this has been ineffective. I’m withholding treatment for temporal psychosis until further sensor results about the distortions are revealed.

The hallucinations appear to be stress-induced. The first occurrence, post-mission, was in Main Engineering. According to the officer’s accounts, Lieutenant Kali was repairing a conduit in Jefferies tube. This was a simple maintenance repair she’d done several times. In this instance, however, she could not loosen the panel and became frustrated. Nearby officers heard screaming and rushed to render aid, fearing she had been injured. They attempted to enter the Jefferies tube but were attacked by Kali. She eventually had to be subdued by security personnel and brought to Sickbay.

Despite this incident, and reported minor cases, Lieutenant Kali has declined sessions with Lieutenant Anderson. She states the hallucinations can be treated with meditation. I’ve been unsuccessful in discovering why she is resistant to counseling sessions. I have repeatedly voiced concern for the increasing instances of hallucinations. I fear if they continue, more aggressive solutions may become necessary.

“Computer, end log.”

A confirmation chime sounded.

“Computer, add log to medical treatment profile of Lieutenant Junior Grade Kali Genan.”

“Log added.”

Selara rubbed her eyes and sighed. She closed her console and left Sickbay.

The Philosophy of a Headknocker

Sickbay, USS Valkyrie
December 2401

Lt. (j.g.) David Martel stopped in the doorway to Sickbay, his broad shoulders filling up the space and perhaps giving him an impression of having more height than his pedestrian height actually was. He took stock of the place. Cool grey walls and much more spacious and several more beds than a Luna-class. Not surprising given the much larger size of the crew.

He had a protective fondness for medical personnel, though he had to admit he was probably biased due to a very special person in his past. A rather sad smile crept across his face unrealized as it often did when Nikkira came to mind. He never could quite shake off his feelings about her, the reality of the situation notwithstanding. The smile was still on his face as he looked around for a doctor to get his physical done.

Across the room, Lieutenant Sienna Frisco handed the nurse the PADD with the remaining inventory check. She made her way over to him, saying, “Welcome aboard, Lieutenant Martel. Doctor Sienna Frisco.” She accepted his firm handshake, saying, “But you can call me ‘Doc’ or ‘Doc Frisco.'” She pulled his dossier on her PADD and said, “Looks like you’re due for your physical.” She gestured to a biobed off to the side.

David placed one hand on the biobed and vaulted himself to a sitting position and briefly studied the doctor. Doc Frisco was blonde, rather pretty and while not unfriendly, had a somewhat serious demeanor about her.

She grabbed a medical tricorder while he seated himself on the bed. “Your health history is good. There are no pre-existing conditions to worry about, ” she said. She began the scan, making notes on her PADD as the data transferred from the tricorder.

“Well, Doc,” David answered with a boyish grin and wry waggle of his head, “in the past, some have accused me of having brain damage, but I just write that off as slander.”

David was more relaxed here than with the Captain. He didn’t have the aversion to medical personnel many had. Engineers check a ship’s systems for problems, doctors do the same with people, and he’d rather catch a problem sooner than later. He watched the doctor as she worked.

Sienna slipped a hypospray into her hands, pulling samples for his bloodwork. With a quiet smile, she replied, “A formal reprimand from your academy days wouldn’t count as slander, Lieutenant.” She watched his blood pressure readings and heart rate vitals. “Since then, you seem to have reformed your ways. Not everybody finds the right way to channel that energy.”

David was about to quip, “I only hit him once.”, but managed to wisely clamp down on the words, turning them into an uncomfortable cough. David then winced and began to scratch the back of his head nervously.

Sienna’s quiet smile remained. “I’m also the executive officer. I have to review everyone’s dossier. Judgment on past transgressions isn’t in the job description, but awareness of what gets your warp core agitated is.” She tapped at the console at the bedside scanner and slipped her tricorder back onto her belt. “What do I need to watch out for when it comes to you?”

David’s smiled a thin smile and cracked his neck, “I think what saved me was the circumstances of that incident, ma’am. Valeriy Makarov is many things. Brilliant, eccentric, socially oblivious and irritating in a lovable sort of way, but the man couldn’t fight his way through wet paper. I was actually defending him. Witnesses corroborated that so…..like I said, sir, I got lucky.”

David sighed heavily as he met Sienna’s eyes and continued, “I believe everyone in a society has a part to play, sir. There are violent people and people of violence. I’m a person of violence. People like me defend people who can’t defend themselves from violent people so they can do whatever important work they need to do in peace.”

David powered on, “I don’t look down on Valeriy for not being able to fight; that’s MY job. HIS job is to advance our knowledge, which is infinitely more important than knocking heads. While people like me are necessary, people like you, doctors, scientists, engineers, you are the truly important ones.”, David finished with a slight chuckle, “I just happen to be the headknocker.”

David cleared his throat and looked away, suddenly embarrassed, and murmured softly, “Anyway, sir, that’s how I view the universe.”

Frisco was amused and amazed.  Dossiers only told so much, and letters of recommendation were about reading between the lines.  On paper, the lieutenant junior grade looked, at best, slightly uneven and, at worst, liable to start throwing haymakers.  She was learning that curiosity was a better path than snap judgment.  Martel was well on his way to proving her theory.  “You’re more philosopher than tactical, Lieutenant Martel.”  She chuckled, “Although that kind of thinking can sometimes save the day.” She handed him his PADD back having signed his medical review, “Your view of the universe isn’t wrong, by the way.  I’d qualify a slight modification to it – being a head knocker isn’t exclusive to a position.  Remind me to tell you some of my stories from my life on Vulcan.”  Her smile slid into a congenial grin, “You ever need backup in security, I’ve got some experience in the matter.”

David started in surprise at this, then snorted out a laugh.

“I will remember to be an EXTRA polite patient then, Doc.”, David slid off the biobed and headed to the doors deciding he may have misjudged the doctor a little. She wasn’t quite as serious as he initially thought.

“And now to meet Lieutenant Silveira.”, David thought to himself.

Sienna watched the man leave, feeling a quiet warmth in her stomach.  There was something subtly attractive about him.  Not even to pursue, but enough to sit in the back with some popcorn.

She sighed.  Now she was hungry.

 

Well, this sucked

Odins Palace
After Subspace Rhapsody

One thing Saffiya wasn’t looking forward to at all was speaking to Hina. Not because she didn’t like talking to her in general, but because she could guess that the conversation wouldn’t be pleasant. After all, ever since they started working together again, none of their missions had gone quite as planned.
She was meeting her in Odin’s Palace, which was quieter than Valhalla, and essentially empty right now.

“Hey.”, she said as Hina arrived. “I got drinks.”

Hina settled into seat across from Saffiya, slightly exhausted. After the ship had gotten clear of the subspace distortions she had thrown herself into repairing what damage there had been. Most of it had, fortunately been minor. It had also been a poor distraction from what she had seen and experienced aboard the other ship.

“Hey.” Hina replied, reaching for one of the drinks. The logical side of her brain knew none of it was actually Saffiya’s fault. No one could control subspace. Well, no human could anyway. Yet the side of her brain that was all feelings and stuff wanted to blame her for everything. Not just the subspace distortions and hallucinations, but the whole underspace thing too. She could have been back at the ship yards working on ships, but no Saffiya had enticed her to come along. Twice. And this second time was for more than just a consulting gig, never mind that the first time had somehow also turned into more than that.

Yet she knew that wasn’t fair, and that Saffiya would be expecting that sort of conversation and also possibly kicking herself over it all.  She raised the drink instead.

“Thanks.” she said with a smile. “We made it out of another one…” she said.

“Yeah…”, sighed Saffiya. “I am not sure what is going on, but I’d very much like a normal week.”

“You and me both…” Hina said. “Maybe you’re just cursed…” she said, chuckling.

Saffiya gave her a look. She was feeling awful enough about all of this, and that statement didn’t exactly make it any better. “Well maybe it’s you, not me. Just saying.”

Hina held up her hands.

“I don’t recall this craziness happening at the yards when I was there…” she pointed out, taking a gulp from her drink. She sighed. “Look… I didn’t mean it like that… was just trying to lighten the mood.  I’m just exhausted is all. Sorry.” she said.

“Understandable.”, Saffiya sighed. “So what have you been up to these past few days. I mean I should probably know, but… well.”

Hina shrugged.

“I spent most of the time repairing the damage to the ship… all of it minor. Nothing serious.” she explained. “How are you doing, Saf?” she asked.

“Honestly? I wonder why every mission turns into a disaster. And why everything turns into a mission – first the subspace tunnels, then the hallucinations. Honestly at this stage I wouldn’t be surprised if I am actually cursed. At least no one died this time.”, she frowned.

“Always a good thing.” Hina agreed. “Who did you see?” she asked.

Saffiya sat her glass down. “I saw Keller. The woman who got injured on the bridge last time, and later was pronounced dead. I ignored her, but the whole thing is… still on my mind.”

Hina frowned. She remembered that. In many ways she was just as culpable, she had been acting as XO at the time, but Saffy was the Captain.

“I can understand.” she said. “How so?”

“Well..”, the Captain started. “It’s her husband. Jonathan Keller. He is… understandably… trying to find someone to blame. He tried blaming the doctor, and he tries blaming me. Again, it’s understandable, I would probably do the same. It’s just not pleasant.”

“No… I can’t say it would be…” she said. It wasn’t right that she was catching the full blame for it. Anger and grief made people act very erratically. She took another sip from her drink.

“I wish there was more I could do, Saffy… its not right that he tries to blame you.” she said.

“Just something I have to deal with, I suppose.”, she sighed. “Oh, that reminds me. We are lacking a Chief Engineer. Are you interested?”

Hina’s eyes widened. She was suddenly back on the Cupertino with Saffiya announcing that she was acting-XO to the entire bridge. To her credit, at least this time the position was something she might be reasonably capable of.

“Do I have to be?” she asked tentatively. Was this an invitation or an order?

The Captain shook her head. “You don’t have to be. I will not just push you into a position you don’t want – not again.”

She exhaled. Well at least it was her own choice this time. She was quiet for a few moments, really thinking. Did she want that? Or did she just want to fix the ship for a little while longer without having to worry about all the other things. The thing that scared her was that she didn’t know. Even back on the Cupertino she had known, and that hadn’t been all that long ago.

“I… don’t know, Saf.” she said quietly. “I don’t know if I’m ready for the reports and duty rosters and all that on top of making sure the ship runs… don’t know if I’m ready for that amount of responsibility.” she continued, staring into her drink, rather than at her friend. She hated disappointing her friends, even worse when one of them happened to be your superior officer.

“I understand.”, Saffiya nodded.

Hina looked up. “Ask me again… in a couple of months… if you don’t find anyone else by then.” she said. Maybe she would be ready then.

“I will.”, she nodded, though she was fairly sure that she would find someone else instead. There was no point in someone reluctantly taking a position they weren’t passionate about.

“You know… through everything you’ve always been a constant, Saffy. I don’t know how you manage it… I even saw you on that other ship… well, I guess ‘heard’ you would be more accurate…” she said.

Saffiya tilted her head “You did?”

“Mmhmm, I was in a maintenance crawlspace… this black mass crawled by and offered a tool suggestion… and made sure I didn’t forget it when I scrambled out of there… was your voice.” she said.

“Oh. Well at least I wasn’t some undead monster telling you how awful you are. So there’s that – from what I’ve heard, people had worse hallucinations than that.” she pondered. And then, with a smirk, added “I can still book you in with a Counsellor.”

“No… I don’t think I need that. I mean that wasn’t the worst of it… but… I’m not really dwelling on any of it.” she said. “But thanks.”

She took another gulp of her drink.

“Did we ever get a solid accounting of what actually happened on the other ship? I know we brought back some data… but I never looked at it beyond the small amount when I was on the other ship.”

“From what we understand, the crew also experienced the hallucinations, and went… basically insane. Couldn’t tell friend from foe, and you saw the results on the ship.”, Saffiya said darkly.

Hina nodded.

“Jeez… yea… it wasn’t pretty.”

“It also leads us to believe that the reports of an alien entity were not correct, and that they instead were part of the hallucination.”

“Makes sense…” she said. “I can’t believe those distortions caused that much trouble… subspace is something else…”

Saffiya nodded. “Yes. Something I would be delighted not to encounter again any time soon.”

“Still we came through it intact and at the end of the day thats a pretty good outcome.” she commented, smiling.

“We did. And yes, it was.”

A date in an undated set.

Valhalla
December 2401

Vivienne was glad that the crisis was averted, and found herself seated at a table in Valhalla, sipping from a cup of hot chocolate. She looked up as she noticed Silveira, the security officer she had worked with earlier, enter.

“Hey!”, she called out before she could stop herself.

Sil steped inside the Valhalla. His last visit there wasn’t the most pleasant and as he was looking around someone called his attention.

He turned to see Vivienne sitting down with a drink in front of her. Sil smiled and made his way to her.

“Hello, may I join you?”

“Of course.”, Vivienne smiled.

He nodded and took the empty seat in front of her.

“I hope you haven’t see anything out of the ordinary like last time. How are you doing?”

“Luckily not.”, she laughed. “I’ve seen enough weird things to last me the whole next decade.”

She paused for a moment, sipping from her drink.

“I am doing well. How about yourself?”

Sil shrugged. It could have been worse, and he recovered from all that he saw. Still it brought back memories that he would rather have buried.

Smiling to Vivienne he replied.

“Well also, thank you for asking.” He raised his finger calling one of the waiters and asked for an orange juice.

“So… What happens now? Are you staying on board a little longer?”

“Yeah, for a bit, still.”, Vivienne nodded. “I like it here, and the Captain doesn’t seem to mind me.” There was a moment of hesitation, and eventually she added “Unless you were hoping I am leaving?”

Sil smiled and tipped his head as he arched his eyebrows

“I was just curious, I think its nice to have you around.”

Vivienne offered a bright smile. “Thank you. So how about you? What do you do when you don’t chase hallucinations?”

Sil shrugged slightly.

“Sit and talk like I am doing now. Get to know people better. Maybe share a meal and have a walk around the Holodeck, or something”

“I love the holodeck.”, Vivienne exclaimed. And she really did.

Sil leaned back and raised his hand, ordering a simple coffee. “Is that an invitation?”

She blushed, tilting her head to the side. It hadn’t been meant as an invitation. but now that the opportunity was there, it felt like something she’d enjoy doing.

“Yes.”, she said eventually. “If… I mean, maybe you.. have someone. Then maybe ask them first. But I yes, I’d like to go to the holodeck with you.”

Sil shook his head. “If you mean someone, as in someone to go with the holodeck, drink coffee, get to know better, maybe have a late drink, dance and… Then no, I don’t have someone”

The waiter arrived with his coffee and he leaned back taking a sip.

“How about you? Do you have someone?”

“No. I am not great with these things.”, Vivienne admitted.

Sil smiled and raised an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Awful, really.”, she smiled. “So… it’s a date. Well, not a date, but … a date, as in a designation of time…. ”

Sil nodded. Although they actually hadn’t yet set a date. But that was good enough for him.

First Time Introduction

USS Valkyrie
1/2/2402

There was a lot that had gone wrong during their last mission, but there were also plenty things that had gone right. And then, there were some things that were entirely unexpected.

One of these things was the arrival of a woman called Nesta, whose story the Captain hadn’t quite managed to piece together as of yet. And so, she simply decided to ask.

She had invited the woman to her Ready Room, and offered a smile once the doors parted at her arrival.

“Thank you for coming.”, Saffiya said, even though no one had ever not come when cited to her office.

Nesta entered the office and looked around. She couldn’t think of a time when she had ever been more nervous than she was right now. She wasn’t quite sure why she was nervous but she was. These people had saved her life and she didn’t want to cause any problems or be a disappointment in any way. She cleared her throat nervously before she spoke.

“Thank you for inviting me. I’m grateful to both you and your crew and I haven’t had a chance to say so yet,” Nesta spoke while not quite meeting the Captain’s eyes.

Saffiya’s expression softened. This wasn’t an officer she was talking to, and while she had, at the beginning of her career, been against the idea of civilians on board, she found herself having relaxed in that aspect.

“I would like to know a little about you.”, she said carefully. “It’s not to judge where you come from, but rather, to find the best way to integrate you into the crew – if you wish to stay, that is.”

“Of course. I completely understand,” Nesta responded a little less nervously. “I’m not sure what all you would like to know but I guess the best place to start is my name. I am Nesta and I come from an Orion vessel. I’ve lived and worked off of that ship most of my life. If you would like more details on that, I’d be happy to share but be warned that we didn’t run the same sort of ship that you have here.”

Nesta hadn’t been on the ship for long but she was enthralled with the atmosphere she had seen around her. Although she had been on a ship for almost her entire life, she had never witnessed this type of friendly and family-like atmosphere. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do when she first arrived but the desire to stay was growing day by day.

“I understand that.”, Saffiya said kindly. “I can imagine how different it has been, and you don’t have to tell me anything you are not comfortable with.”

“Thank you,” Jade spoke softly. “It has been a wild couple of days. I guess the short version of a very long story is that I worked for my brothers scouting out potential targets. Now that I look back, I really never had much a choice. It was just what I was told to do and I always did it. Things have started to change for me recently though and I guess my brothers noticed. I failed them one too many times and now they want to punish me. I was running away from them when I bumped into your crew member. I don’t think I’d have made it without them.”

“And what about your brothers?”, Saffiya inquired. “Will you miss them?”

“If I’m being honest, not really. My two older brothers were awful. I could never do the right thing or say the right thing. I will my miss my brother, Vigo though. He has always shown kindness and stood up for me when no one else did. He stood up for me so that I could run. I hope that he’s okay and that they have not harmed him.” Nesta started feeling herself get emotional and she immediately stood taller and tried to hide it. She was taught that emotion was weakness and she didn’t want the Captain to think she was weak in any way.

“I understand.”, Saffiya nodded. “Well, while you are here, how do you envision your time here? Is there anything you are particularly good at, or would like to get better at? I find that most people adjust better if they have a job to do.”

“I’m honestly still trying to figure that part out. I am honored to be here and would like to help in any way I can. All of my previous experience has been communications of some sort or another. If there is an opportunity for me to help out in that area, please let me know. I’ll be happy to oblige!” Nesta said enthusiastically.

Saffiya thought about that. “Then how would you feel about, on the one side, learning about how Starfleet does things. On the other side, I think working in Valhalla would help you connect to the crew.“ She paused, then explained. „Valhalla is our social hub, and includes a usually well-visited bar.“

“I would be interested in both if I’m answering honestly. I am eager to learn more about Starfleet but I am aware that will take a great deal of time. Valhalla would provide me with the more immediate opportunity to get to know everyone while also contributing.” Nesta spoke more enthusiastically then she had ever before. She was excited and she can’t even recall the last time she had been this excited about something before. “That’s if it’s acceptable of course to consider both.”

“That’s an excellent idea.”, the Captain nodded. “And I already have a first task for you, if you’re up for it.”

“Of course! I’d be up for just about anything, Captain. What did you have in mind?” Nesta inquired.

“One of our crew members is due for a well-deserved promotion. Do you feel comfortable coordinating a celebration in Valhalla?”

“I would be honored! I will say that it has been sometime since I have done anything of that sort but I look forward to giving it my best shot! Thank you for the opportunity and I will get started right away!” Nesta stated enthusiastically. She said her goodbyes to the captain and then started to make her toward Valhalla. She was excited and couldn’t wait to get started. She had a few ideas buzzing through her head and was eager to see them come to life.

Check-In with Medical

Sickbay, USS Valkyrie
December 2401

Flint started to proceed to check in with sickbay, he wanted to get his medical out of the way.

His background was in small and confined spaces, working with minimal equipment to get the job done, somehow he didn’t want it to come across as a problem.

Still getting accustomed to the ship, he pressed the dull screen on the wall in front of him, it came to life, he selected directions to sickbay and with that, the lights and a path lit up around him.

Noticing how quiet it was on the ship gave him a sense of how big it may be, many were away on leave and it gave the halls an eerie feeling, he had only passed two additional crew members, head in PADDs while following the signs.

He reached the main entrance and proceeded to enter.

The doors to Sickbay opened, catching Selara’s attention. “Hello! I’m Dr. Selara, what can I help you with?”

Locke smiled towards the doctor. In his travels, he had never met a Denobulan face to face before.

“I’m Ensign Flint Locke, I was hoping to be able to get my medical all ticked off…” he said

“Ah yes, I heard we’d be having some new arrivals,” she checked her PADD. “Yes, here you are Ensign. Please have a seat,” she gestured to the nearby biobed.

Flint walked over to the seat he was gestured to and sat down, placing his bag from his shoulder onto the floor next to him, he had forgotten to drop this off in the haste on the route.

“Flint… Locke, that’s an interesting name,” She opened a tricorder and removed the probe, “Your parents were history buffs, were they?” Selara moved the probe about Flint’s body.

“Engineers,” he said back, catching the flicker of the probe’s red light as it moved over his head. “My mother mainly was in weapon systems, it’s where I got my passion for carrying on the ‘create it, fix it’ vibe.”

“Ah,” Selara replied, working the probe and watching the tricorder’s readout. “I’m sure they have a mix of pride and thankfulness that you carried on their legacy. It does have the disadvantage of having your path carved out for you.”

“I see the ship seems quiet, I imagine it’s nice to have the time to catch up.”

Nodding, Selara finished her final pass with the probe. “The rest certainly is nice. We had back-to-back missions. Doing so wears on the crew.” She looked around Sickbay and took it all in. “I think I enjoy the after-mission work more. I get a chance to heal things that were broken. I’m a lot like an engineer in that respect,” she smiled. “I do well in emergencies, but it’s easier to work when things aren’t blowing up around you,” Selara chuckled.

Flint recoiled at the thought of a full-blown emergency on the ship, he knows too well what it can be like.

Selara replaced the probe and waited for the final analysis. “This isn’t your first posting,” it was more a statement than a question. “I read that in your file. Another one of our new arrivals also served on the Callisto.” She wrinkled her brow in thought. “For the life of me, I can’t remember their name.”

“That’s right, Lt Martel,” he replied.

His background with the officer never came close. He had heard of the name “Badger” floating around during the Callisto posting, and he was hoping to catch up with him when the time presented itself.

Before she could respond, the PADD beeped. Selara picked it up and reviewed the analysis. “Well, Mr. Locke you are in great health. Your sodium is a bit low, but a week of a daily electrolyte drink should bring it up.” She smiled, “Welcome to the Valkyrie, I look forward to seeing you around the ship.”

Flint was relieved to hear the chime of a good pass in health, he always tried his best to keep in shape, even around his hectic lifestyle in any place.

“That’s great, thank you,” he said.

Flint stood up from the bed and grabbed his bag, heading for the door. He could already see the doctor was embedded in her next task, and he didn’t want to bother her too much. The door hissed when it opened, and he headed off.

Two people, three jobs

Odins Palace
December of 2401

“This isn’t working.”, said Saffiya as Frisco had joined her by the bar. She emptied her glass (which was promptly refilled, because this was her time off and it was one of those days). “But it’s not you. It’s…. well, it’s not me either. It’s rather that we can’t share three duty posts between the two of us.”

For the past few months, Saffiya had not only done her own work, but partially that of an XO in addition. Which wasn’t because Frisco was lazy or incompetent, but because the woman had to fulfill her XO duties in addition to being Chief Medical Officer.

Sienna sipped at her Shirley Temple, “Khan Noonian Singh, I am not.”  It had become harder and harder for her to balance both positions.  The responsibilities were not complimentary, and the competing nature of her duties in both positions had begun to take its toll on her sleep.  “The marriage has a third warp nacelle that’s getting in the way.”  She pulled out her everpresent PADD, “I’ve been working with Selara – giving her additional responsibilities and duties.  She’s passed every stress test I’ve given her.”

“That is promising.”, the Captain nodded. “Have you tested the waters on that particular promotion yet?”

The doctor tossed back the remains of her drink, “I haven’t brought it up with her…wanted to sit down with you first.” She gestured to the bar, “…and here we are.”

“Here we are.”, Saffiya sighed. “I am not a medical officer, so I have to rely on what you are telling me. If you say she is ready, and suitable, then I believe you. If not, I will request someone else to come in.”

Frisco gave her CO a long look, “With the state of the selection being what it is – we won’t be moving up in the world.  Frontier Day carved a hole in us.”  She signaled for a refill, “Selera is qualified.  I’ll start the promotion conversation in the morning.”

“There is no point in rushing anyone. I have discussed the Chief Engineer position with Lieutenant Morishita, and she has declined.”

Sienna raised both her eyebrows and blurted out, “The heck?  The engineers in my academy cohort did everything short of bribery to get assigned to a Sovereign-class – their dream of making chief of a ship like this is still a pretty lofty prize.”

“It was… disappointing, yes. But I won’t force her into a position she does not want. Not everyone wants to be a leader – or more of a leader than they already are. I know from experience that, sometimes, it is great to have someone else to lean on.”, she smiled. “Or take the heat when things don’t go as planned.”

Frisco chuckled, “I don’t know about you, but I think if the heat comes for us, we’re both taking it.”  She shook her head in amusement, “I understand your why…but we need a chief engineer.  I know enough to be dangerous about this ship and its insides.  You need at least a Chief – then you can work on building up a deputy chief in the ranks.”

“Agreed.”

She tossed back the second Shirley Temple, “The once and future Chief Medical will get to figure out who their second will be – I’ll be happy to get all of my arms and hands around the XO responsibilities.”  She turned to her CO, “How’s Saffiya doing…we got lucky we didn’t lose anybody in that singularity situation.  Our minds took plenty of hits, though.”

“Saffiya is doing great.”, the Captain said, then paused. “And evidently needs another drink because she speaks about herself in the third person. Or maybe a psych consult.”

Sienna’s smile was quiet in response. There was a certain level of certainty that a CO and XO team would eventually need a psyche consult. Their shared relationship often resembled a marriage, with most of the benefits, save one.  “The truth, Saffiya.”  Frisco had taken to using her CO’s first name in the rare moments where her medical background urged her to dig in just a little further.  None of them had escaped without a slow-healing wound or two.

“I didn’t particularly love having a dead officer tell me it’s my fault she’s dead.”, Saffiya admitted. “And while I know that I did what I could, I still feel… well… it was still my crew. And that person was part of it.“ She shrugged and, indeed, ordered another drink. She’d probably need it.

The XO sighed, “My mother’s tirades about her suicide…that was enough for me.  I know we’ll never know the truth about the why…I think the singularity pulled a part of my unconscious guilt about the whole thing.”  She went back for another Shirley Temple.  Damn, she loved this drink.  “None of us were when she took her life…and that’s always stuck with each of us.  We talk about it when we get back together.  That kind of thing never leaves you,” she glanced up at her CO, “does it?”

“I think….” Saffiya said carefully. “That it‘s not supposed to leave you. I believe it’s supposed to stick with you and guide your decisions. If we don‘t feel guilty, we don‘t have a reason to improve.“

Sienna thought on her CO’s words. There was a certain truth to it.  “Perfection is impossible…or so they tell us.”

Saffiya asked, “How are you feeling about it now?“

The XO drained the glass for the last time, “I don’t think I’ll ever know why she did it.  I feel like I can work towards accepting it wasn’t my fault or my father’s…the fault lies with my mother.”  She slid the glass to the bartender shaking her head.  She was done for now.  “And you?  How are you feeling about it now?”  A quiet but kind smile was on her lips, and her words were heavy with care and concern.  She’d grown to appreciate her CO and the friendship that was beginning to form.

“It’s not my fault.”, Saffiya said with a firmness in her voice that surprised her. “But there are things I could have done better. I could have reacted faster, or not embarked on that mission in the first place. But… ” she sighed. “I will never know if that would have changed the outcome. And whether that would be for the better, or the worse.”

And that was the truth of it, wasn’t it? They all did their best, but sometimes even that wasn’t enough. It wasn’t always about personal failure—though those happened too. It was simply life.

It Doesn’t Bother Me….Right?

Lt (j.g.) Martel's Quarters
December 2401

Lt (j.g.) Martel’s Quarters

USS Valkyrie (NCC 74877)

December 2401

Martel entered his quarters and threw himself onto his bunk with a grateful sigh. He felt like he had been moving non-stop all day, and truth be told, he had. Meeting the Captain, his physical, talking with Sil. Martel frowned slightly as he remembered his conversation with Sil.

Discussing the operation at the Thieves’ Cut, even briefly, had brought back a flood of intense memories that had lain untouched for a good bit of time. Honestly, he had somewhat understated the intensity of that engagement to Lt (j.g.) Silveira. With a discontented grunt, Martel shut his eyes and threw an arm over his face as he tried to think of anything else. It didn’t work.

 

Nebula SDT-1139D (The Thieves’ Cut)

Asteroid “Barnabas”

March 2400

Martel moved down the dank, grimy corridor at the point of his security team, the dim and flickering lighting causing shadows to jump and move in nerve wracking ways. His phaser rifle was up and at the ready and his breathing was quick, almost sharp as the adrenaline kicked in.

They were only five minutes into the operation and already some other teams had hit stiff resistance from the pirates on this rock. Having finally tracked down the rest and refit port run by the pirate coalition in this lightly patrolled zone, a five starship task force under Captain Maldanado of the USS Ranger had arrived and surrounded the base with a haste that had shocked the pirates as the starships quickly disabled the two picket ships that had been in the task force’s path. The other picket ships, seeing the proverbial writing on the wall, had cut and run. 

Captain Maldanado had opted on letting the small fry escape, knowing that it would be much more devastating to the pirate groups for this base to be captured, along with the several dozen criminals now trapped there. The base was primarily dug into the surface of the asteroid, with only the rather rudimentary maintenance docks and their attendant facilities being above ground. So into the tunnels the Starfleet security teams went.

The tunnels were ill lit, even worse maintained and laid out in what could generously be called a haphazard fashion. Still, while the Starfleet teams were better trained, eighty or so hardened raiders desperately trying to avoid capture was a force to be reckoned with. Martel held up a clenched fist as he approached a corner in the tunnel and heard a slight scraping noise, followed by a harsh, admonishing whisper. The other four members of the security team quietly slowed and halted behind him. Ensign Martel turned to the team commander, Lt. Watanabe in the third spot, and pointed to the corner, then his ear indicating he had heard something. Watanabe gave a curt nod and pointed at the corner with a rapid cluster of thrusts, indicating to take the corner fast and hard. 

Martel nodded, turned to face forward again, resettled his rifle tight to his shoulder and then used his non-trigger hand to reach back and lightly slap the teammate behind him, and Edoan ensign named Morax, in one of his three thighs indicating he was ready. In turn, Morax reached back and slapped Watanabe’s thigh, his Edoan physiology giving him an extra hand to do so without releasing his grip on his own rifle. Watanabe repeated the process. Once the team member in the rear had their thigh slapped he then gave a light clap to the woman in front of him’s shoulder to indicate readiness. Martel tensed as he knew what was coming. 

When he felt Morax’s hand touch his shoulder, Martel went around the corner like a shot, shooting into the gloom. A rainbow mix of disrupter and phaser fire lanced out at the team but Martel’s suppressive fire had accomplished its purpose in throwing off the pirates’ aim. There were three or four of the criminals in cover behind a makeshift barricade of crates and debris. Martel dodged to the right to take a knee close to the corridor wall allowing Morax to fire from behind him. From the corner of his eye he saw Watanabe take a knee beside him and fire. 

Martel took a breath, steadied his aim and drilled one of the pirates dead center, the Cardassian woman dropping from the heavy stun as if poleaxed. A returning shot burning into the wall above his head sharply reminded him that the pirates’ weapons were most definitely NOT set to stun of any kind. As the final pirate was knocked back, Watanabe gave a loud, “MOVE!” and the team quickly vaulted the barricade and moved further down the crude tunnel, side stepping assorted cables and boxes in their path. 

After a short time the tunnel terminated into a set of open blast doors, the noise and flashes of battle coming from inside. The team all shared quick glances with each other before Watanabe focused his hawk-like gaze on Martel and jerked his head towards the opening. Martel nodded his understanding with a crooked smile and carefully padded his way to the open blast doors. Taking cover to one side, Martel carefully peeked inside.

A shadowy, cavernous room with overhead gantries, piled up crates and inconsistent lighting greeted Martel. From the looks of things at least two other Starfleet security teams had arrived before his and he saw orange beams reach up into the gantries, with return fire a myriad of colors answering back. While the Starfleet teams were in solid cover, they were pinned and so a sort of stalemate ensued. Scanning further, he saw several more pirates up in the gantries facing the entrance he was peeking through holding their overwatch positions with uncharacteristic discipline. This would be a problem. He silently withdrew and made his way back to Watanabe.

“Big room with a lot of gantries.” Martel began without preamble, “Looks like two or so of our teams entered from the other side and are in a big scrap with the pirates on that end. There are about six of them in high positions facing us watching the door.”

“Cover for us?”, Watanabe replied.

“Some, but we’ll just end up in the same situation as our people across the way.”, Martel frowned.

“Lieutenant Velk’s team is on the way here with another, we just got to fix and hold them here.”

Martel nodded and looked back at the open blast doors. Watanabe tapped Martel, who glanced back and saw the team leader point to Morax and then to Martel. Without a word Martel and Morax took positions on either side of the opening, Martel on the left, the Edoan ensign on the right. Watanabe held up three fingers and silently counted down. As the final finger tucked in, Morax and Martel shot through the opening like a pair of lightning bolts, looking for cover in their respective directions. Martel found a conveniently placed large shipping crate while Morax crouched behind a generator. Both began to engage the pirates in the gantries above them.

Under the covering fire of their comrades, Watanabe and the two remaining members of the team charged in and found their own bits of cover and began firing upwards themselves. Martel took aim, fired and missed a purple skinned humanoid that was firing downward, causing them to quickly drop out of sight. Martel took another shot at a shadowy figure and missed again.

“Velk’s force got tied up.”, Martel heard Watanabe grind out amidst the din of battle, “We’re on our own for now. Commander Th’zhelron is asking for a status report, give me a moment.” Watanabe began to talk with the Callisto’s Tactical Officer in clipped tones.

 

Martel took another shot, this time striking his target and causing the pirate to drop bonelessly out of sight. Return fire caused Martel to duck back behind the crate. Taking a steadying breath and looking around, he noticed a set of metal stairs about fifty meters or so away further to his left, leading to the gantries. Most importantly, they were out of the line of fire….if he could get there. Martel’s mind worked rapidly. He would be protected by the angle of the gantries if he could get there without getting killed. He could break the stalemate on both sides if he could disrupt the pirates’ firing line. 

Well there’s no present like the time, Martel thought almost mechanically and then before he could think himself out of it, rose and pounded towards the stairs.

One.

Behind him, Martel heard Watanabe shout his name. Martel focused on the stairs, everything around him turning into an almost indistinct haze as his legs pumped as fast as he could make them, moving in a zigzag pattern. The stairs had become the most important thing in his life.

Two.

At least a few of the pirates had noticed him and streaks of ravenous color began to reach out towards him, striking the ground around him. Adrenaline coursing through his veins, Martel had become an automaton whose only reason for existence was to reach the metal stairs in front of him.

Three.

Martel was almost there. He vaulted….something, like a hurdler and he’d never remember what it was. He’d also never really realize how close to death he came as a blue beam passed scant centimeters from his head, close enough to half blind him in the dimly lit environment.

Four.

Martel almost slammed into the stairs and scrambled his way up the stairs, almost tripping twice. As he reached the top he was startled by an equally startled pirate who apparently hadn’t realized Martel was as close as he was. At such close proximity, Martel did the only thing he could do and kept going, the pirate giving a startled shout as he was bowled over.

Wasting no time Martel shot a nearby pirate that was turning towards him and the female Nausicaan was pitched over the rail and Martel imagined he heard an audible crunch as she hit the deck below. A small, detached part of his mind hoped it was imagined anyway. Wasting no time Martel shot the pirate he had bowled over, pitching him down the stairs and then knelt and began to engage every pirate he could see on the upper gantries.

Before Martel realized it, he was joined by Watanabe, Morax and the rest of his team and they quickly cleared their side of the gantries and soon the sounds of weapons fire slackened then ceased as the remaining pirates were overrun by the security teams on the other side of the cavern.

“Ensign Martel!”

Martel snapped his gaze over to Watanabe, who was giving him a hard look.

“Sir?”

Watanabe stared at Martel for a long moment and then stated, “Next time you get a flash of tactical brilliance could you do the rest of us a favor and maybe WARN us.”

“I, uh-I mean-”, Martel began to stammer.

“You didn’t think it entirely through is what you mean to say.”, Watanabe growled, then his demeanor softened a little, “Still, it worked beautifully so I can’t fault the results.”

Martel had the decency to look a bit shamefaced. Watanabe gave a smile of amused annoyance and shook his head. He then raised his voice slightly, “Alright people, we still have work to do. They might be down for a few hours but let’s secure the prisoners and get back into the fight.” The team began to restrain the unconscious pirates. At one point Martel looked over the rail and down at the female Nausicaan he had shot earlier. She had landed badly, breaking her neck and her glazed over, sightless eyes stared up at Martel accusingly. Martel couldn’t look away and didn’t until Lieutenant Watanabe touched his shoulder. Martel jumped. Watanabe was looking over the rail, then gave Martel’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.

“It happens, Ensign.”, the team leader said gently, “Fighting is a contact sport after all. Get back to it, we aren’t done yet.”

Martel nodded and forced himself to look away, but the Nausicaan’s eyes were burned into his thoughts.

 

Lt (j.g.) Martel’s Quarters

USS Valkyrie (NCC 74877)

December 2401

Martel gave a start. He sat up on his bunk. He must’ve dozed off. He had been laying there for about an hour according to his desk mounted clock. He gave a slightly ragged breath. He hadn’t thought about the operation at the Thieves’ Cut in a long time.

He moved to the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water from the sink. He looked into the mirror and for a split second it wasn’t his eyes that stared back, but the dead, glazed over, accusatory eyes of a long dead Nausicaan pirate. Then the thought faded and Martel grunted a quiet curse as he left the bathroom to grab a cup of coffee.

 

Sil and the Badger

Armory, Target Range
December 2401

David entered the Armory’s target range to find Lt. (j.g.) Silveira looking over a phaser rifle at the firing station. It was rather dark in there currently, deep shadows looming all around. The target range was adaptable, with holoemitters able to provide a myriad of different targets and scenarios. However it appeared Silveira had opted for the classic multicolored target lights, several of which stood frozen at various points around the range like stars of yellows, blues and reds. This also explained the lowered lighting, as to facilitate seeing said lights.

David paused and studied his fellow officer for a moment. Though the poor lighting made detailed observation difficult, David could see his fellow officer was a lighter skinned Human with dark colored hair and matching beard. He also looked to be the same height as David but much slighter of build, looking to be twenty five to thirty kilos lighter.

Sil had decided to get some practice. Although the recent mission had not required real fire, he had taken the chance to fire some rounds at the phaser range.
Located near the Armory he was about to start firing when he heard someone clearing his throat and calling his name.

David cleared his throat slightly and spoke, “Lieutenant Silveira?”

Sil lowered the rifle and turned, smiling at the stranger in front of him.
He looked a little smaller but heavier built than him. Sil guessed he was one of his department crewmattes, also a Junior Grade, by the way the Lieutenant carried himself.

“The one and only! How may I help you Lieutenant?”

“I’m the new tactical officer, Lieutenant.”, David stated with a faint smile, “Just met the Captain and the Doc so now it’s your turn.”

Sil smiled, securing the phaser rifle in its safe mode and setting it down before raising his hand to the newcomer.

“A pleasure to meet you. But please drop the formalities. Call me Sil”

“Good to meet you as well, Sil. You can call me Dave or Badger, just don’t call me late for dinner.”, David then pulled a face of mock confusion, “I think that’s how that joke goes.” David then grinned.

Sil tipped his head to the fire range.

“Want to join me and take a crack at it?”

Still grinning, David replied, “Beats several alternatives I can think of.”

David moved towards the Armory doors and went inside, returning a few moments later with his own phaser rifle. David sensed the other officer was a truly friendly soul, but also knew this was a test of sorts. Taking his place at the firing range, David cracked his neck and, after getting a nod of assent from Sil, said, “Computer, start range training program from the beginning.”

The colored dots vanished for a moment and then returned from the darkness from different points throughout the range. David snapped his rifle up and engaged the blue light, a spear of orange light lancing into the darkness and striking the target. With a tight economy of movement, David adjusted his aim and struck the yellow light. The green light was next and David narrowly missed it, having not given enough lead but and the green light danced with what looked suspiciously like glee before vanishing into the dark. Then with what may or may not have been a grumbled curse David nailed the red light on his first try.

Lowering his rifle, David pulled a face, then gave Sil a wry, sidelong smile.

“Just getting my eye in, let me try that again.”

Sil was still wondering if he would call his comrade David or Badger. He hadn’t done that bad in the range, but apparently he wanted to go for the perfect score. He winked and nodded.

“Be my guest.”

Once again David told the computer to start up the program and once again, four different colored fairy lights appeared and began to dance. Four orange shots sped out in rapid succession and four fairies vanished. Lowering his rifle again David smiled, “There you see? I’m not THAT bad.”

Sil nodded and grinned at David.

“I never said you were David. Good shooting, have you done it for real”?

David’s smile took on a faintly sour tone, “Twice. First time was a boarding action. Disabled the pirate ship and boarded it. Really didn’t expect a fight but violence was chosen. My team was clearing a cargo bay and I was point. A couple of the pirates were in there stuffing their pockets like they were going to get away,” David shook his head in a sort of amused consternation, “I told them to freeze and disarm and they decided not to. Never made sense to me.”

David widened his eyes with a dramatic breath that puffed out his cheeks for a moment, “Now the second one, that….that was a bit more serious. Major raid on a large pirate stronghold on an asteroid by a nebula we called the Thieves’ Cut. Took us over three hours to kick enough sense into them for them to surrender. They got the worst of it but we lost some good people that day.”

David brightened his smile a bit forcefully, ” So how about you, Sil?”

Sil nodded, it had been a few years, but he still remembered it.

“Yeah, I did. Still prefer the target range. It’s less messy.”

David decided not to push for details, instead just nodding and then he suddenly jerked his head towards the range, “I do believe it’s your turn, Sil.”

Sil smiled. He had been practicing for a little while now, so he shrugged.
Checking the rifle he slowly brought up the phaser rifle back to his shoulder, and began controlling his breathing. After two seconds he stated the instructions

“Computer, range training program, please.”

As the targets began to appear Sil fired and hit one after one. He kept his eyes on the rifle sight and constantly scanned for the new targets, as he hit the other ones.
His aiming wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to hit the marks. At least until the last two, when he failed the shots.

“Looks like you won” he said with a wink as he secured the phaser rifle.

“This time, at least.”, Martel grinned.

Martel then cocked his head curiously to the side suddenly, “I’ve noticed that the crew make up seems to be a bit….in flux at the moment. It seems to me that currently you and I are the seniors in Tactical/Security. You’ve been here longer, how does this work?”

Sil smiled and shook his head. “Don’t ask me, I also joined recently and got tangled into a mission. Do you have a preference? I mean in Tactical or Security? You like staying on the bridge, or getting your hands dirty? I can do both.”

“So can I.”, Martel responded with an easy laugh. He gave the question some thought. While he had certainly done Security work on the Cally, he had definitely leaned more into the Tactical aspect of the job during his time there. Maybe this was an opportunity to round out his experience a bit better.

“I guess I can do some dirty work for a bit, Sil. If you’re ok with this and even more importantly, if the Captain is ok with it.”

Sil nodded, winked and shrugged. “I don’t mind sitting down. But don’t hesitate to call if there’s something you need. I am also still new here, so we can both figure it out together.”

“Sounds good to me.”, Martel grinned then stifled a yawn, “in the meantime, I’m going to take advantage of some downtime and rest, seems like the trip is catching up to me.”

Martel returned the rifle to the arms room and then, with a friendly nod and wave to Sil, made his way to his quarters.

Check-in with Engineering

Engineering, USS Valkyrie
December 2401

After leaving the medical bay, Flint started to look around for a turbolift for his next meeting in Engineering, he was hopeful he would be able to fit in without issue here, he was known to knock heads a few times with his own views and standing out.

With the ship still virtually empty, he hoped to meet a fellow Engineer to see where he could be needed.

Taking the lift and following the guidance, he made it. In all the haste, he had noticed his bag was still on his shoulder, but he kept it with him until after.

Flint walked into the room, the low hum of the core was flowing through his head and the dimly lit glow from the surrounding interfaces was visible, he called out in the hope someone was there.

“Hello…” he said, his voice bouncing off the surrounding walls

Hina poked her head out from around an access panel at the sound of the new voice echoing through Engineering. She was currently one of the few people still working at the moment and was surprised to see someone else enter, let alone still carrying their bag.

“Hi. Can I help you?” she asked.

Flint jumped, even in all the dark spaces and areas he has been in, his nerves still take over at the wrong possible moment.

“Oh… new engineer I guess?” she asked.

He started to walk over to the officer, noticing all the tools laid out around her. It seemed he had found someone who liked to work, even in off-hours like himself.

“I’m Hina. Welcome to the Valkyrie.” she said, extending her hand.

Flint took her hand and smiled. “Nice to meet you, Lieutenant.” he said. “I had just come aboard and was hoping to check in before the crew returned to the ship. I see you’re knee-deep in work. ”

“Well… I’m sure the chief or acting chief is around here somewhere… they’ll be who you want to check in with.” she said, looking around. She shrugged, looking at the tools she had scattered around where she was working. “I was just finishing up actually… just tuning the plasma distribution systems…” she said, letting the new ensign take a look.

He nosed in at the sight of the work. Being such a fanatic about how plasma could be pushed to its limits made him study it and play around in depth during his time in the fleet. Also, having to clean the ducts was not something he ever enjoyed doing.

“Have you had issue’s with it then?” he said

“Oh it was fine before… but its a bit more efficient now… should give us a little more power if we ever need it.” she said.

Flint admired the care the Lieutenant took in her work, the area was already spotless and back to normal so you wouldn’t even notice it had been touched.

He grabbed his bag and went to head off in search of the chief. “Nice to meet you, perhaps we will bump into each other soon?”

Hina nodded.

“I’m sure we will.” she said with a smile.

Flint hunted around for the Chief but could not locate his reporting line, he was dubious of getting to his room and dumping his bag so he headed for the door in the hope of coming back later.

She watched the Ensign leave, dimly realizing that she hadn’t actually asked his name. She shrugged, turning back to finish cleaning up the area. She pocketed her tricorder and scooped up her tools, setting them into the tool kit before wiping her hand on the gold overcoat she wore, heading off in search of her next project.

The Worst 48 Hours – 3

USS Cromwell NCC-72819/Sector Z-6, Class-M Planet
April 2401

Tanna stumbled vacantly through the mud and rain towards the lab. Her left arm was slung up with a torn and filthy bit of Abigail’s uniform, her right hand held a loose grip on a handheld phaser rifle. She knew there were Remans throughout the area, and disruptor fire flashed through the air around her, but she didn’t care. Her whole body was numb from shock and pain. The other remaining officer from their little group kept beckoning her to get down and take cover, but she only half heard him. Miraculously, she made it back to the lab alive, without being shot. With difficulty she got back through the escape hatch and collapsed onto the floor. A fellow ensign swooped down over her, whipped out a tricorder and took a quick scan.

“You’re lucky to be alive.” she said pointedly, then she turned to the crowd. “You, get me some alcohol.” she ordered, pointing to someone.

“We don’t have any.” said the Centurion, moving to the front of the group. “Are you a doctor?”

“Shit.” the ensign said softly, “No, I’m not, but I do have some first aid training, so I’ll have to make it work. Okay, then get me some clean water and fresh bandages. You do have water and bandages, correct?”

“Yes, of course. we have water.” replied the Romulan officer. “But we don’t have bandages. The doctor was killed in the initial attack, and there’s no way anyone is going to look for supplies. That’s suicide!”

“Fine,” said the ensign, stripping off her own tunic and handing it to someone. “Cut this into strips, and bring it back here.” She pointed into the Centurion’s office. “Clear that desk, and get some lights. Let me see what I can do with this.”

The Centurion waved his hand, and the small crowd began milling about the lab, gathering the requested items. The desk was cleared hastily, and Tanna was carried into the office and laid on the table. She felt a small pinch on her neck and heard the hiss of a hypospray. Her vision started to darken as the ensign’s face swam into view. “I’ll do the best I can for you, but it’s best you’re unconscious” were the last words Tanna heard as her eyes closed.


Tanna woke up with a start, and sat bolt upright. She was still laying on the desk, and her left arm was now properly wrapped in clean bandages. There were noises coming from outside that said the lab was now surrounded, and being fired upon. She swung her legs over the side of the desk, hopped down onto her feet, and her head immediately started to swim. She swooned, and was forced to sit back down on the desk to stop the room from spinning.

“That’s some powerful shit I gave you” said the ensign, who now had a cut over her eye, “It’ll take a minute for your head to clear, but the pain shouldn’t get worse for another few hours. It’s best to stay put for a moment. Here, take this.” she handed Tanna a canteen full of water and a small foil package.

Tanna drank deeply from the canteen, and tore open the package. She didn’t enjoy emergency rations, but it felt like it had been weeks since she last ate. She wolfed it down quickly to avoid tasting it too much, and washed it down happily with more water. “How long was I out?” She asked finally, wiping the water off her chin.

“About 6 hours.” replied the ensign, as more disruptor fire flashed against the shields of the lab.

“How can I help?” Tanna asked, as she tried slowly to stand again, successful this time.

“We really could use someone who can handle a phaser.” replied the ensign, “Think you can handle that?”

“Yea, I think so.” said Tanna, crossing the small office and joining the group of people in the lab. The security officer who brought her back gave her a weak smile as she approached him, and handed her a handheld phaser. She took it, and then gave a small smile in return. “Thanks for keeping me alive.” she said quietly.

“I’m sure you’ll have a chance to return the favor soon if the storm doesn’t let up.” he replied. “They keep trying to get in. They cut our main power, and the battery back-up is starting to run low. At this rate, they’ll get through the shields in another hour, then……” his voice trailed off, but Tanna knew what he would have said. Their plan was looking like no survivors.

“Well,” Tanna said, trying to sound confident, “Maybe the ships in orbit will save us before long.” She knew how long the storm was due to last, and she knew now how long the shields would hold out, and those numbers did not add up. There would be more fighting before she was out of this.

“Yea, maybe.” he said thickly. ” I’m thinking of heading up to the roof to try and pick some of them off one the shield fails. They are definitely going to hit this front door hard, and I want to take as many of them with me as I can.” He moved to the back wall of the room, where someone was on a table cutting a hole through the roof. Before long the section fell to the floor with a crash, and the sound of the torrential rains hitting the shield became louder. The young man tossed his phaser rifle up to the roof, and then hoisted himself up through the hole.

Tanna stayed on the floor, waiting tensely as the last of the power reserves were depleted. The lights flickered, and then, all at once, everything went dark. There was a kind of silence that fell, as all of the humming and whirring of the various lights and equipment ceased, and the rain now fell through the hole in the roof, pounding down onto the metal lab table. It wasn’t totally dark, which told her that morning was coming. that would at least give them a chance to hit something.

After a tense few seconds all hell broke loose, as a hail of green bolts, now unhindered by the shield, tore through the thin metal walls of the lab. Tanna dropped prone, wincing at the growing pain in her left shoulder. A fine time to wear off. she thought bitterly to herself as she crawled one handed into the office. She sat up, her back against the wall beside the door, peeking around the corner. She was soon joined by the Centurion, who has drawn his own disruptor and sat opposite Tanna. Three more joined them, and they all cowered under the desk.

BANG. BANG. BANG. The door was being beaten in. Angry shouts were coming from outside as red phaser bolts were issuing from the roof. It seems they weren’t able to reach him up there. Not yet anyway. CRASH! The doors to the lab buckled inwards as one of the Remans ran headlong through them. Tanna fired her phaser, and the Reman let out a scream of pain as they were vaporized. Two more Remans came in, and the were taken out by the Centurion.

“We’ll be dead for sure if we stay put.” he said. “There’s no way out in this office. We need to get onto the roof!”

“Agreed.” Tanna replied, vaporizing another Reman that came through the door. They stood, and beckoned the three others to follow them. Two crawled out at once, but the third stayed behind, shaking violently. “C’mon,” Tanna urged, “You’ll die if you stay here!” He shook his head violently, and cowered even lower.

“Leave him!” shouted the Centurion, firing out the door to provide some cover. Tanna cast one more look back at him, and then turned to help get the others outside. She covered with her one good arm while he hoisted the others onto the roof, and then he covered her as she got onto the table. He went first, then he reached back down to grab her and pull her up. Tanna’s last glance of the lab was a group of Remans wading through the victims. and firing into the office.

A Brief Debrief

USS Valkyrie
Dec 2401

Time had passed quickly and pleasantly now that the crew of the USS Valkyrie could consider themselves on shore leave. The increased amount of free time gave them the opportunity to reconnect, and to deal with the things they had seen during their encounter with the subspace anomalies.

But not everyone seemed to get the chance to deal with recent events. What had happened to the away team on the Freighter Huelgh only affected three officers – a number that paled in comparison to the amount of people seeking counselling to work through the aftereffects of the hallucinations.

Seta Jinean, on of the counselling staff on the ship, knew that she should have scheduled a meeting earlier, but had to deal with her own problems before she could help anyone else. Can’t pour from an empty cup.

“Thank you for coming.”, she said softly, and looked at the three young officers in front of her.

Tanna shifted nervously in her seat. It had been a strange few weeks since her escape from the Freighter Huelgh, and she was glad to finally be able to talk openly about what happened.

“Thanks for seeing us, Counsellor.” she said, smiling. “Who wants to go first?” After a pregnant pause Tanna let out a deep sigh and said, “Alright, I guess it will be me. Strap in everyone.” Tanna then broke into the story about how the three of them had met up, went to look for the tech and been promptly captured. She told them about her interactions with Rhaan Velik, and his curiosity with her arm implant, and about her meeting with him on the bridge when she sent the distress message.

Shahr shuffled uncomfortably. He was not looking forward to recalling his brief stint of imprisonment. The Imperial Guard never would’ve given him counseling for it… Someone likely would’ve dressed him down for getting caught. Shahr kept his mouth shut for now, and so did Stroyer.

“That’s the stuff you know about.” Tanna said with a smile, “Now for the fun part. I was in my cell, not sure what steps to take next, and totally unsure if you had even gotten my message. I decided it was high time I took a loved one’s advice, and be strong.” She paused for a moment, remembering the delusional conversation she had with Abbie in her cell. She didn’t feel quite like sharing that one yet.

“The next time the guards came around to feed me, I pretended to be in pain. It’s an old movie trope. When he came in, I threw myself at him and managed to snatch his distruptor off his belt in the scuffle. I gave him a quick stun, stole his coat and eyepatch and went to find myself an escape pod, or a shuttle or something.” She paused to drink some water, and then she produced a old, well worn eyepatch from a pocket.

“Wow. Nice work Tanna!” Obviously, Shahr knew Tanna had escaped. But he hadn’t heard her story yet. He was pleased to hear she’d tricked AND overpowered her guard.

“Great thinking.”, Stroyer agreed, and the Counselor nodded approvingly.

“Thanks! Okay, so anyway,” Tanna continued, “after a while of sneaking around and searching, I managed to find an escape pod that worked. I was just entering in launch commands in a nearby console when another guard showed up down the corridor, then hit some kind of panic button on the wall. Clearly, my disguise wasn’t fooling anyone, so I ditched the coat there. I finished my inputs just before he reached me, and I threw myself into the escape pod. He lunged after me, grabbed my leg, and started pulling me back into the ship. I had to kick him in the face pretty hard to make him let go. When he did, I stunned him too. As I got back into the pod, Rhaan Velik found me. I shouted after him I was sorry I couldn’t help him, then shut the doors and hit the launch button. I heard his fists pounding on the airlock door just seconds before I launched. I was afraid he would start firing on me, but I think the pod managed to get properly lost amongst the asteroids. Then I just had to fire up my distress beacon, and wait for the Valkyrie to pick me up. And that’s pretty much that.”

Tanna sat back in the chair and took another long drink of water as the others continued. It wasn’t a super exciting escape story, but she couldn’t help but feel proud of what she had done. In the face of fear and feelings of inadequacy, she had learned something about herself, and she wasn’t going to let herself forget about it anytime soon.

Shahr’s eyes darted between Tanna and Nevaeh. He hadn’t yet told them of his escape either. Of course, he’d told Starfleet Security all about it. He had to. It was the only way. He took a brief sip of his water, sighed deeply, and began.

“I suppose… I could go now.” Shahr’s words came out haltingly. “I won’t rehash the beginning. I don’t recall the capture itself… not yet, anyway. I remember waking in a cell, with most of my disguise removed. I was tied to a chair. It was hot. I don’t mean hot as in, standard-Federation-ships-are-hot-for-Andorians hot, I mean it was really hot. There was condensation on the walls. I assume it was for my discomfort. No reason for environmental controls to be set that high for any of the species I saw there.”

“It’s a commonly used technique to, indeed, increase discomfort.”, nodded Seta.

“The guards beat me for a while. Eventually, a Reman came in. I expected more beatings, but he actually chided the guards for their work. At this point, I assumed he was simply working a ‘good cop’ routine, and didn’t trust him. We bantered a while, but… if I’m being honest, I could not match him. I’m not trained for that. I tried to get him to slip up, reveal something, give me a clue about the others…” Shahr looked to his friends again, then resumed staring intently at the wall. “He gave up nothing. He did, however, make it clear to me that I had two choices. Death, or cooperation. Something in the way he spoke…” Shahr paused. Re-living the memory was making him uncomfortable. It was making it real again. “I believed him.”

“What happened then?”, Stroyer prompted.

“He offered me a job. I’m not proud to say I took it. Maybe someone else would’ve just said no and accepted death. I truly believed it was the only avenue to escape, and I wanted to live. When I first awoke in that cell, I assumed I’d be interrogated, or tortured… I steeled myself to resist and hold out for rescue. That plan was dashed. So I accepted his offer, and tried to come up with a plan.”

Taking a moment, Shahr sipped his water again. His throat was dry, and his eyes burned with shame. His friend had skillfully escaped. He had given in.

“It actually didn’t take as long as I expected it to. The Reman wanted me to construct a device for him. It was basically a giant holo-emitter for a starship. Not important. That same day, they implanted me with what they called a ‘compliance device’, and the same guards that beat me escorted me to the market to get some supplies I needed. Ironically, I stumbled across some of the tech we’d actually been sent to retrieve. In my case, it was an experimental personal transporter. Experimental because it had been reduced in size to about a breadbox. For emergency use only, since it had a tendency to burn out and delete the user from the buffer before materializing. I didn’t care. It was my first opportunity, and I took it.” Shahr straightened his shoulders. “Similarly to how my story started, I don’t recall the moment of actual transport. I assume I programmed it to find a Starfleet signal and beam me there. What I do remember is waking up in Sickbay. The doctor told me I had suddenly appeared one of our shuttles, running scans to look for us. The compliance device was active. I think that’s what I don’t remember… my nerves were being fried.”

Shahr shook his head, pushing the memories back down. “Anyway. I escaped. Wasn’t very glamorous or brave, but I did. I debriefed with Security, disclosing my acceptance of the Reman’s offer. They said it was fine, but I still feel dirty for it.” Shahr found the nearby plotted plant very interesting then, and kept his eyes locked onto it.

“I think it was pretty brave.”, said Stroyer.

The Counsellor gave another nod. “I think so too. Ensign Stroyer, do you feel comfortable sharing how you escaped?”

Neveah remained silent for a good long while, then she shook her head. “Not really. It wasn’t as brave and glamourous.”

Hearing his companion speak, Shahr broke out of his private pity party. He looked at Neveah. “I, for one, and glad you made it back, regardless of your methods.” He had been worried for his friends during their ordeal. Not knowing if he’d see them again had been horrible.

“I’m small, and I look young. Younger than I actually am, and that has always been an advantage. The guards were not as brutal with me as they were with the others, and they were a whole lot less careful. When I escaped, I found Lieutenant Morishita, and left together with them.”

“I think you’re brave.” Tanna said. “I think it takes a kind of courage not everyone has to escape from a situation like that, no matter the means of escape.”

Stroyer sighed. “I am… sorry we got into that situation to begin with. I mean… I am just an Ensign, but I was the intel officer tasked with the operation. I feel like a failure.”

Shahr’s eyes darted back and forth between Neveah and the counselor, unsure if he should interject or let her speak first. Tactfully or not, he opened his mouth. “I am definitely not an intel officer, but it seems to me like you did your job. You correctly found a target, and briefed us on the dangers. A human friend from the Academy taught me a saying… ‘no plan survives first contact with the enemy?'” Shahr stopped then. He had wanted to say something comforting, but wasn’t sure if he was succeeding.

Tanna turned to Neveah. “Yea, exactly.” she said, “Plus, if we’re being honest, I was the one who really got us into that mess. I should have known better than to suggest meeting someone on their own ship. I’m just relieved we all made it back safely.”

The counsellor nodded. “What is important is that you are back, and that you are not afraid to speak about the things that happened when you need to. The way I see it, you don’t even need me – you are supporting each other just fine.”

Shahr looked as his companions again, and nodded eagerly at Tanna’s sentiment. He too was glad they had all made it back. He figured their individual experiences in captivity would haunt each of them for a while, but that was the price of surviving an ordeal; a price he would gladly pay. Since nobody had glared at him yet for opening his big dumb mouth, he pushed his luck.

“Maybe next time we get a room on a pirate ship, we can spring for a luxury suite?”

A Pip In His Step

USS Valkyrie
December 2401

Shahr double-checked his uniform in the mirror for a fourth time. “I suppose,” he said aloud to his empty room, “that makes it a quadruple check.”

He’d woken up that morning to a ping from his tablet. His off-duty responsibilities had shifted slightly; he was scheduled to see the captain after his duty shift. Naturally, the tablet offered no clarifying information regarding the purpose of this summons. So, Shahr did what any good ensign would do in that situation: he gave in to some mild panic.

Shahr skipped his usual coffee that morning, as he found himself wide awake without it. He showered, dressed for duty, and ate a piece of fruit on his way to the science labs. He really did try his hardest to keep focused on his tasking that morning… but it’s hard to focus when your summary execution has been scheduled for that afternoon.

Fortunately for Shahr, he was a dedicated and meticulous worker. Within the first four hours of his shift, he had replayed the entire past 2 months of his life in his head, to exacting detail, and he was certain he hadn’t done anything wrong. Relaxing somewhat, he completed his shift without incident. “If I’m not being reprimanded, what the devil could this be about?”

Shahr stepped off the turbolift onto the bridge, then promptly strode over to the captain’s ready room doors. He took one last moment to flick some non-existent lint off his shoulder and straighten his trousers, then pressed the chime.

Captain Nassar looked up from the PADD holding the (entirely insufficient) information as to what their next mission would entail, and placed it to the side. She had thought about how to start this conversation, and come with a somewhat sound strategy.

Entering the small office, Shahr stationed himself in front of Captain Nassar’s desk and stood at attention. “Good afternoon captain! Reporting as ordered.” Shahr immediately regretted being so stiff. He was acting like a cadet. He’d interacted with the captain just fine during the nightmarish hallucination mission. Why was he being so weird now?

Why is he being so weird, wondered Saffiya as her brows knit together in the first hint of a frown. “Ensign.”, she said, deciding that she would match his demeanour until she figured out what this was about. “Thank you for coming. Please, take a seat.”

Shahr nodded and sat across from the captain. He maintained good posture, but loosened up slightly, hoping to move on from his cadet-like entrance.

“I’ve gone over your performance over the last two missions.”, she said eventually. “Both were certainly incidents an Ensign fresh out of Academy is not yet equipped to handle.”

She glanced at her PADD, extending the break between that statement and the “And you have done a stellar job”  she had meant to follow it up with just long enough for Shahr to interrupt.

Shahr did his best to hide the pang of disappointment he suddenly felt. He straightened his shoulders. “I apologize, ma’am. No excuses, I will improve. Please let me know what deficiencies I should correct.” Internally, Shahr was reminding himself this wasn’t the IG. Captain Nassar wasn’t going to slap him around. And yet, despite knowing there was no pain involved with poor performance in Starfleet, he felt worse about disappointing his captain here than he would have back on Andor.

Saffiya looked at him, utterly confused. “I don’t think I said you had done badly” she frowned, doubting her own sanity for a second there.

The look of confusion on his Captain’s face matched the confusion raging inside Shahr. Then, a quantum of hope sparked inside him. Maybe this was not the conversation Shahr thought it was. He considered a moment, then spoke slowly. “I admit I do think I performed satisfactorily in our latest, um, hairy situations. Maybe I’ve jumped to the wrong conclusion here, Captain.”

“Oh. Yeah. In fact I think you did great, despite the fact that you – as an Ensign – can’t be expected to handle situations such as you faced them.”, she quickly explained. There was a small wooden box on the table, which she pushed closer to him.

In truth, the Captain probably felt just as awkward as Shahr did.

Shahr looked down at the box, puzzled. Reaching forward, he paused to search Captain Nassar’s eyes for a sign of disapproval. When he saw none, he gingerly spun the box towards him and opened the lid. His eyes widened in surprise. Inside lay a single collar pip: a black circle with a gold rim.

“Congratulations.”, Saffiya said with a smile, allowing him the time to mentally catch up with what had just happened.

“Thank you, ma’am! I… should I put it on now? The last time I got a promotion in the Imperial Guard, my commanding officer simply tossed a badge at me in the hallway and grunted begrudgingly. I did see a promotion ceremony at the Academy once, but I’ve also been told each command does things differently.” Internally, Shahr’s emotions were at odds. He was very proud, and wanted to smile, but a lifetime of cultivating a good scowl was fighting back. The corners of his mouth tugged upwards a bit.

“Tossed at you?”, Saffiya asked and raised an eyebrow. “That’s not… nice. Honestly I am not big on the whole ceremony part, so this is very… uh… well. Awkward. But I planned a party – well, I had someone plan a party, I’ve never planned one, and would probably be miserable at it.”

“Yes ma’am, he was… not a good CO. I think a party would have given him a stroke.” Shahr considered a moment, then continued. “To be honest, a year ago would’ve had a stroke at the idea of a party with shipmates. But, I really like it here. It’s different. Better different. That sounds fun, thank you Captain.” Shahr stood, guessing they were wrapping things up. “If I may make a request ma’am, would you mind pinning it on? This is my first advancement in Starfleet, you’re my first commanding officer. I’m proud to be here.”

She hesitated for a moment, then got up and took the pip, adding it to his collar. “I don’t know about your time in the Imperial Guard, but you are doing great here. I’m glad we have you.”

“Thank you again, Captain. I will endeavor to keep up the good work!.” Despite how relaxed the conversation had become after his initial awkwardness, Shahr felt compelled to return to the comfort of military tradition. It seemed appropriate, to acknowledge his new place in the hierarchy here. Shahr snapped a crisp salute.

Under New Management

Sickbay, USS Valkyrie
December 2401

“Let’s get down to business, shall we?” Selara chuckled. “Exoscalpel, please,” she outstretched her hand, and the tool was placed in it. “Beginning cutting now,” she applied the tool to the patient’s skin and watched the skin separate.

“How many lesions did the scans find?” She said, staring at the display screen.

“Six, ma’am.”

“If Security personnel train this hard, I can only imagine how they work,” Selara mused. “But it does make me feel more protected,” she smiled under her mask.

As she worked, she felt someone watching her, “How can I help you?” Selara said without looking up.

“Captain Nassar is requesting your presence, doctor,” a voice behind her said. “An attempt by communicator failed.”

“I turn off non-emergency communication during surgery. I find it distracting,” Selara said the final words through gritted teeth. She tempered her anger; he was simply doing his job.

She looked across the table at her assistant and received a nod. “I’ve got this,” he replied.

Selara set down the exoscalpel and stepped away from the table. “Tell Captain Nassar I’ll be there shortly.” She removed her surgical attire and scrubbed out.


In short order, Selara arrived at the Captain’s ready room. She pressed the door chime and waited.

The Captain sighed. Not because she didn’t look forward to meeting with the doctor, but the back-to-back conversations were getting to her – and not all of them were as joyful as this one, or the ones with the three Ensigns.

“Come in.”, she said and waited for Selara to enter.

Selara entered the ready room and found the captain at her desk. “You wanted to see me, ma’am?”

“Thank you for coming. Please, take a seat,” Saffiya smiled, waiting before she continued. “I was speaking to Lieutenant Frisco earlier. I know you have only been on the Valkyrie for a short while, but she has been impressed with your performance so far. How are you liking it?”

Selara matched Saffiya’s smile and sat down. “It’s challenging but good. I think the crew is overall recovering nicely from the last two missions, medically speaking.” She chuckled, “But that’s not why you called me here.” Selara was still trying to get a read on the conversation. It wasn’t negative, but it was a fun mystery. “I’m glad to hear it. Being a senior officer in one department is stressful enough but in two? So I try to lighten her caseload when I can.”

“It’s a lot,” Saffiya agreed.And, in the long term, it doesn’t work. The reason I did not offer you the position of Chief Medical Officer right away was that I believe it to be important that you have some time to familiarise yourself with the ship and the crewbut now that you had the opportunity to do that.. I would like to offer it to you.”

Selara’s eyes widened briefly, “I’m appreciative that you didn’t. It’s difficult to get your bearings on an already established vessel.” She chuckled, “Not impossible, just difficult.”

She focused on the offer and smiled, “I accept, of course. However, I do have a caveat. Dr. Frisco agrees to relinquish control of the Sickbay to me fully.” She leaned forward, “It seems odd to hear, given what we said about double duties, but I’ve seen it happen. Doctors who give up departments want the thrill of medicine again and try to force their way back to their position.” She shrugged, “Some succeed, and some don’t.” Selara leaned back in the chair, “It’s never happened to me, thankfully, but I’ve seen the strain it puts on everyone involved.”

“Just throw her a broken bone now and then,” Saffiya suggested. “But I am fairly sure the woman would appreciate some time off.”

Selara nodded, “She’s welcome to practice whenever she wants. Truth be told I find her an extremely knowledgeable and brilliant doctor. I enjoy watching her work and would welcome the opportunity whenever she wanted.”

“Then it is decided,” the Captain smiled. “Congratulations. Oh, and there will be a party to celebrate. We’ve had a few promotions and that seems… appropriate.”

“A party?” Selara raised an eyebrow. “That does seem appropriate,” she chuckled. “If there’s nothing else?” Selara started to rise.

Saffiya shook her head, “Nothing else, dismissed.”

Selara nodded in response and left the room, while mentally taking stock of her clothing options for the party.

Florence, 1473?

Starbase Bravo
January 2402

The soft hum of the station vibrated through Lorra’s chest as she quickened her pace down the polished corridor, her boot heels clicking in a steady rhythm. Her breaths came fast, not from exertion but from the thrill simmering beneath her calm exterior. Around her, officers in crisp uniforms strode purposefully, their muted conversations blending with the occasional chime of comm alerts and the distant whir of maintenance jobs.

She gripped the data padd in her hand tightly, her knuckles whitening as her mind raced ahead to what awaited her. The thought of him—Lieutenant Rinches—messing with her systems on the Valkyrie made her lip curl. Her ship had been in his hands for months, and she didn’t need to see the diagnostic reports to know there’d be “adjustments” to fix. The imagined sight of jury-rigged conduits and poorly tuned plasma relays sent a chill prickling along her spine. She could almost hear the soft sputter of a subsystem not running at optimal efficiency, almost feel the vibrations of a misaligned power regulator.

Pushing the thought away, she focused on the corridor ahead, its clean white walls lined with directional panels and blinking status monitors. She passed a pair of ensigns leaning against the bulkhead, exchanging quiet laughter. One of them glanced at her, straightened, and snapped into motion. Lorra didn’t pause or acknowledge it—she had no time for pleasantries. The holodeck was just around the corner, and the Valkyrie’s future hung in the balance.

The air shifted as Lorra neared the holodeck, the sterile, recycled atmosphere of the station giving way to something warmer, more tangible. There was a faint, almost electric tang in the air—a subtle ozone scent that made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. She rounded the corner, and the holodeck doors came into view, glowing faintly, almost as if beckoning her forward. The hum of the station faded, replaced by a soft rustling sound. She took a breath, her heart quickening—not from fear, but from the rush of anticipation that always came with stepping into the unknown.

As the doors slid open, a flood of light poured out, and for a moment, it felt like stepping through a doorway into another world. The scent of freshly baked bread and earthy spices hit her first. Then, the cobblestone streets unfurled before her, winding through towering stone buildings, their facades adorned with intricate carvings. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the market square, where carts were stacked high with vegetables and goods. The noise of the marketplace was almost deafening—vendors shouting over one another, children laughing as they darted between legs, and the rhythmic clatter of horses’ hooves on the cobbles.

Lorra blinked and surveyed the scene. It felt real—too real. The warmth of the sun, the bustle of the crowd, even the faint scent of horses mixed with the smell of roasted meats—it was all meticulously designed. But something about it felt… foreign. She furrowed her brow, trying to place the city. Florence? She’d heard the name, but that was all. Earth’s history wasn’t her area of expertise.

“Computer, where am I?” she asked, her voice steady, but her eyes still scanning the crowd for any signs of the Captain.

The computer’s response came quickly, cool and efficient, but a little too detached for Lorra’s liking. “Holodeck 5 on Deck 457, Sector Kilo-Indigo.”

Lorra shook her head, a small frown tugging at her lips. “No, no, no. Computer, that’s not what I meant.” She glanced around, her hand on her hip as she exhaled sharply. “When and where is this program set?”

There was a moment of silence, and Lorra almost thought the system had glitched. Then the computer beeped softly, its voice flat as it answered, “You are in the City of Florence, Italy, on Earth, in the year 1473.”

The words barely had time to register before Lorra’s mind processed the meaning. Florence, 1473? Earth’s history wasn’t something she knew intimately, but the name still struck a chord. She looked around again, taking in the scene with a different eye this time—every detail more vibrant. The way the light glinted off the bronze of a nearby statue, the soft murmur of a conversation between two women haggling over fabric, the stall with small jars of honey and homemade candles, their scents mingling in the air.

The crowd seemed oblivious to her presence, moving with a fluidity that made her feel like an intruder. Her boots clicked against the cobblestones as she walked forward, her eyes locked onto the square ahead. It felt like time had slowed as she made her way through the market, every movement around her sharp and clear. But she couldn’t let herself be distracted by the charm of the place. She had a mission.

A narrow alleyway opened up to her right, and she slipped through it, the stone walls rising on either side like silent sentinels. The sounds of the square grew muffled as she emerged into another open space. And there, near the center of the market, she saw her.

Captain Saffiya Nassar.

The Captain’s back was to her, her dark hair cascading over the shoulders of a simple, flowing gown that blended seamlessly with the time period. She stood in front of a vendor, engaged in a quiet conversation, though Lorra couldn’t hear the words from this distance. The sight was so at odds with the woman Lorra knew—the no-nonsense, tough-as-nails officer now standing in the middle of a 15th-century Italian market.

Lorra couldn’t help but smile. The sight was almost surreal. She stepped forward, quietly, until she was just a few paces behind Nassar. The low hum of the holodeck seemed to fade into the background as she leaned in and called out, her tone playful, “I bet you weren’t expecting me to show up in 1473’s Italy?”

Truth be told, Captain Nassar had not expected Lorra at all, and her surprise was evident as she turned to face the woman. She eyed her up and down with exaggerated approval, then, without a word, turned back to the vendor. “I will take your word for it.”, she said, as a small vial with amber liquid was exchanged for a handful of coins. Only then did she deign to grace Lorra with her attention.

“I figured you had to be somewhere, 1473’s Italy seems as good as any place to be.”, she said, but couldn’t keep a smile from tugging at the corner of her lips. “Though that clothing really won’t do. If you already have to disturb my very limited time away from the Valkyrie, at least dress the part.”

Lorra’s lips curled into a brief smile, the kind that hinted at an unspoken joke. She entertained the thought for a moment, but then shook it off, straightening her posture and letting the playful energy settle into something more focused. The glint in her eyes remained, but it was tempered by the quiet understanding that duty called.

“With all due respect, Captain,” she started, her voice steady and smooth, but the eagerness still slipping through, “I wasn’t planning on staying here long. Truth be told, if it were up to me, I’d already be in Engineering, hyperspanner in hand, tearing through the systems to make sure she’s the finest Sovereign in Starfleet.”

Her lips curled again, the words carrying a quiet pride, though the hint of a challenge still lingered in the air. “Which, of course, she is. But just imagine—a new tier of Sovereign. That’s where she belongs. She deserves more than perfection.”

Her gaze flickered to the horizon for a split second, her mind lost in the thought of what could be. Then, the reality of her own words brought her back, and she shifted her weight slightly, her shoulders rising and falling in a sigh of acceptance.

“But, alas,” she muttered, letting the word hang like a weight between them, her eyes narrowing in mock frustration, “regulations. They won’t even let me touch the ship’s systems without the Commanding Officer’s stamp of approval.”

She turned her head slightly, letting the pause stretch long enough for the acknowledgment to sink in. “And that,” she added, her voice softening into an almost respectful drawl, “would be you.”

“So, here I am, Captain,” she said, the words almost an afterthought, though they held the weight of duty. “Lieutenant Commander Lorra, reporting for duty, ma’am.”

“You do realise you are essentially your own replacement, don’t you?”, the Captain asked and raised an eyebrow. “Walk with me. I have a husband to poison.” She gestured for Lorra to follow along she made her way through the market, past vendors and visitors alike, until they reached a winding path that led them through a garden, and would eventually end at one of the more prestigious abodes in the area.

“Where was I… oh yes, poison the husband, and you replacing yourself. I requested a new Chief Engineer several weeks ago, but with bureaucracy being what it is, it has taken its sweet time.”

Though she had to admit that part of it was her own fault. With two department head positions vacant, Frisco had been forced to work as CMO and XO at the same time, and she had done the job of a CO and been her own XO whenever the other woman was tied up in sickbay. In addition, she didn’t trust Lieutenant Rinches as much as she would have liked, and there had been evenings she had spent making sure the warp core didn’t blow up.

The cobblestones clicked under their boots as they walked through the quaint streets, sunlight glinting off the curved edges of stone houses. Vendors called out their wares, and the scent of fresh bread mingled with the faint metallic tang of armor from the guards they passed. Lorra barely noticed. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, and she exhaled sharply through her nose.

“Yes,” she said, her voice tight, “I’m painfully aware that I’m my own replacement.” Her shoulders tensed as she glanced sideways, the words coming quicker now. “And I know—” She stopped abruptly, her jaw clenching. For a moment, it looked like she might not finish the thought.

She inhaled sharply, then let the words spill out. “I know Rinches has had his filthy fingers all over her. I can feel it. Every relay, every circuit—he’s probably left a mess I’ll be untangling for weeks.” Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she looked ahead, her brow furrowed, as though the image of his work was physically in front of her.

Her pace quickened. “We’re short-staffed, I get that,” she said, her voice quieter now, but no less charged. “But can’t you just… I don’t know, pull some strings? Ship him off to some California-class? Something harmless, like the San Diego? Or stick him on a station somewhere, running the same diagnostics on the same relays every day? I hear Montana station has some excellent facilities!”

“Not a bad idea.”, Saffiya admitted. “He’d probably do less damage there. But it wouldn’t be fair to the team there.”

Lorra let out a heavy sigh, the kind that carried both resignation and a last flicker of defiance. Then, with a wry smile, she tried one more time. “We could always just… ‘forget’ to recall him. Honestly, he’s slow enough that by the time he figures it out, we’ll be light-years away.”

“Or…”, Saffiya said slowly, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “How about I make it your personal project to mentor him. You know what they say about problems – they’re just opportunities with thorns on them.”

Lorra’s grin widened, her eyes glinting with a spark of mischief as she leaned in slightly. “And you know what I always say…” She let the words hang for a moment, her tone light and teasing, before finishing with a wink. “There’s no problem too big for the airlock.”

“Well, I am glad your enthusiasm hasn’t dimmed. How was your time away? And was whatever it is you were doing really worth leaving the Valkyrie for?”

Lorra’s smile lingered, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She glanced away for a moment, her shoulders sinking slightly before she straightened up again. “Captain, you know as well as I do—there’s nothing out there worth leaving the Valkyrie for.”

Her gaze flickered back to Nassar, and with a shrug, she pushed the thought aside. “But enough of that. Where’s the husband you wanted to kill?”

A mere XO

Odin's Palace
December of 2401

Frisco pointed the fourth ensign to a biobed, “You’re going to dumbass corner #4.  Don’t speak. Don’t move.  And sure as hell, don’t think about anything other than how much of a stupid idea this was.  Nursing staff will get you patched up.  Repeat back to me what I told you.”

The red-faced ensign gulped, “I won’t ever sneak Romulan Ale on the side ever again.  Especially when two of my crewmates are allergic to it.”

“You’re damn right.  Go sit the hell down.”  She handed the PADD to her charge nurse, “Fix them, but make it slow and painful.  Stupidity needs a lasting lesson.”  She walked out of sickbay, headed towards a meeting with her CO.

It had felt a little like asking Frisco on a date. Which was to say that inviting the XO/CMO to join Captain Nassar at Odin’s Palace had been incredibly awkward because neither of them had terribly much time, and because Saffiya had too much interest in ruining the surprise and telling her what this was about.

When Frisco finally arrived – some sickbay emergency, apparently – Saffiya had already ordered the drink she knew the other woman enjoyed.

“Took you long enough.”, she smirked. “We’re on shore leave, how busy can sickbay possibly be?”

“You’ll have the detailed report in short order, but four ensigns decided that sneaking Romulan Ale was a good idea, especially when two of them were allergic, one deathly.  They’re all alive, but body and head are going to need some recovery work.  I’ve got nurses banging cymbals in tandem with treatment to help reinforce against them ever being this foolish again.”  She accepted the Shirley Temple, “Outside of that, sickbay is just fine.”  She turned her attention to Saffiya, “You?”

“I’m alive. It turns out Lieutenant Commander Lorra’s replacement is Lieutenant Commander Lorra. Ironic, isn’t it?”, Saffiya grimaced.

Sienna winced.  It seemed the Valkyrie’s recycling program continued.  “Second verse, same as the first?  Lorra’s a good engineer – we’re lucky to have ’em back.  I don’t know what the first thing about repairing an EPS conduit is, except to kick it.  Hard.”  She downed her drink and pushed it forward for a refill.

“And I have taken your recommendation and made Doctor Selara Chief Medical Officer. From now on you, are nothing but a mere Executive Officer.”

She accepted the refill and sipped this one slowly.  Shirley Temples were a great reset drink when you needed to shift your brain.  But they also had plenty of sugar.  Gotta take that slow.  “I for one am glad to be just an XO.  Leaves me so much more time in my day for working with department heads, mending forcefields between parties, and keeping things more on track.  As much as sickbay was my home for so long…I’m ready to start something new.”  She sipped at her drink, “Our little crew is growing up so fast.”

“Indeed. And there is someone else who has some growing to do.”, Saffiya said vaguely. “It feels a little wrong to have a Lieutenant be First Officer and superior to several Lieutenant Commanders.”

She waited, seeing if Frisco understood what she was getting at.

Frisco nearly spat out her drink, scowling at her CO.  “That was a close one.”  She put the cup back on the bar, “You’re serious.”  She turned in the bar stool, “I haven’t been a Lieutenant very long.”

“That’s a good thing, as far as I am concerned. You still made XO. Or are you that happy with your current rank?”

Sienna did a shrug, “I never got into Starfleet for the rank or the pomp of having a title.  I probably would have been happy at ensign for the rest of my life.”  She glanced at the bar and spotted the wooden case.  “You seem to believe in me, captain.”

“I do.” Saffiya nodded and opened the box, then hesitated. “There’s a caveat, though.”

Sienna eyed her CO.  What was she going to write in small print?  “Do tell.”

“I’m throwing a party. You are obligated to come. No exceptions.” Saffiya smirked. “Does that sound agreeable?”

Frisco grimaced. She wasn’t a party girl and yet she was now responsible for fully working with the senior staff and crew to keep the Valk running smoothly.  “As an old Earth movie says, you’re making me an offer I can’t refuse.  So, I accept.”  She finally cracked a smile, “I’ll be happy to have only one office to work from now.”  She downed the second Shirley Temple, “Here’s to the next adventure.”

A Welcome Surprise

Ready Room, USS Valkyrie
January 2402

Tanna was pacing back and forth as the turbolift carried her towards Deck 1. I wonder what the Captain wants? She thought to herself nervously. She adjusted her uniform again, for what seemed like the hundredth time as the turbolift slowed. Deck One said the computer as the doors slid open to reveal the bridge. This was the first time since coming aboard that Tanna had been on the bridge, and it was just as magnificent as she had been lead to believe. Large and spacious, quite the opposite from the cramped bridge of the Cromwell. She moved swiftly forward, towards the Captain’s ready room.

Captain Nassar waited in her ready room, and despite the occasion of this meeting being a joyful one, she felt slightly stressed. Which, apparently, was nowadays her default state of being. She was glad that she’d likely be able to make this short, and surprise everyone with the… well, surprise party, later.

“Ensign.”, she smiled as Tanna entered the room. “Glad you could make it. How are you feeling?”

“Well enough, Captain, I think.” Tanna replied quickly, coming to stand at ease midway between the door and the Captain’s desk. “You wanted to see me, ma’am?”

“Yes.”, Saffiya nodded, making sure to maintain her smile. The near-disaster with the last Ensign she had welcomed in her ready room was something she didn’t want to repeat, so she was going to be a lot more straightforward with it.

“I wanted to talk to you about your performance during the last mission.”, she started. “I have rarely seen an Ensign manage a situation such as you’ve faced it. I know nothing about this mission has been ideal, but… you made me incredibly proud.”

A wave of relief washed over Tanna, and she relaxed her shoulders. Then, suddenly, she let out a small laugh. “Phew” she said after a moment, “I was afraid I had done something wrong. Well that’s a relief. Thank you ma’am, I was only doing what I thought was right in the moment.”

“Sometimes, that’s the only thing we can do. I’ve reviewed your performance since your arrival, and in combination with that, I believe the rank of Ensign is inappropriate. So I think it’s time to change that little detail. ”

Tanna sank slowly into the chair, hardly believing what she had heard.

The Captain opened the small box that had been sitting on her desk for a few days now, and rose from her chair.

“Congratulations.”, she said, as she added that additional pin to Tanna’s collar.

“Thank you ma’am” Tanna said hopping out of the chair to stand at attention again. “I’ll do my best to be worthy of it.” She snapped a crisp salute, then exited the ready room and crossed the bridge swiftly to the turbolift. Once the doors slid closed behind her, she sank back against the wall, wiping a tear off her cheek.

“I finally did it, Abbie. I caught up to you.” she said to herself, beaming with pride.

Party Planning

Valhalla - USS Valkyrie
December 2401

Nesta hurriedly walked toward Valhalla to get started on the party planning right away. She had been brainstorming the whole way back after leaving the Captain’s office and speaking with her. This was the first time she had been trusted with a task like this and she was determined to do well. She knew that she had to get in contact with the chef on board and discuss a menu as well as take stock of the current inventory of any alcoholic beverages in stock already.

She knew that she only had a few days to plan the celebration and she wanted to make use of what was already in stock and not have to rely on making any purchases before hand. She walked through the space designated where the celebration would be held.

It’s perfect…she thought to herself. She began pacing the room back and forth and planning on where everything would be and what would be needed to be moved if anything. After about ten minutes or so, she was confident she had formulated the best plan. She didn’t see anyone around but she knew that the chef is usually around during this time of day. She turned towards the kitchen determined to speak with the chef right away.

She entered the kitchen and wasn’t surprised to find the chef working at chopping up various ingredients and he prepared to maker dinner for the entire crew. Nesta couldn’t imagine having that type of responsibility which caused her to have a deep respect for this individual. She announced her presence as to not scare him and then slowly approached him. She started explaining the situation and informed him that she would like to speak with him regarding the menu and what would be served during the party.

After only about ten minutes or so, Nesta and the chef had confirmed a variety of dishes that would be available during the party. Of course, they had spent a lot of their time discussing the cake. Cake was a necessity and it needed to be the best. She was genuinely happy with the variety of dishes that was being offered. The ship’s chef had experience with diverse dishes and was able to provide that he could make food from every race and culture on board. This made Nesta smile. He had also informed her that the bar was already well-stocked with various alcoholic beverages from every culture he could think of. The fact that she wouldn’t have to make a decision on that made her sigh with relief.

She had experience on board her brother’s ship but the chef had very little experience and didn’t seem to care about the quality of food he provided. Nesta found this chef’s passion to be very refreshing. She enjoyed the short conversation they had and thanked him profusely for his help. She dismissed herself to head back into the main area. She had decorations to handle of course.

Nesta started by making sure that the entire room was spotless. It looked to have been cleaned recently but you can never be too careful. This took her about thirty minutes before she was finished. She stopped and put away her supplies. She looked around the room and was pleased with how it looked. She then went to work rearranging the tables and chairs in order to provide the most space in the middle of the room. She wanted to encourage members of the crew to socialize and mingle with one another. She also moved one of the larger tables to be stationed close to the bar. She wanted to have this available for all of the food to be laid out in an organized manner. She thought that this location for the table was best due to it’s close proximity to the bar.

She had obviously never attended a party on a Starfleet ship before so she had no clue whether or not there would be dancing. She mentally chastises herself for not thinking to ask that question to the Captain. But rather than bug anyone else, she figured it would be best to prepare for either alternative.  She called out and requested the ship’s computer to play music centralized to the room. The computer obliged and she slowly walked throughout the room to make sure that she had arranged the room in a manner that would provide that the music could be heard everywhere. Once she was satisfied, she had the computer stop playing music. She then turned back to the tables.

She had brought small candles from the supply room and began placing them directly in the middle of each table. She knew that it would look great during the party once they were actually lit. She then grabbed the balloons she had found when searching for party supplies. Thankfully, it only took a few minutes to inflate the balloons and place them throughout the room. She stuck to a bundle of about four or five balloons that were weighed down so that they could be placed directly on the floor. She placed six of these bundles throughout the room. She placed one in each corner of the room and then the last two at each end of the table that would hold the food.

Nesta took a walk around the room and was pleased with the results. She still had a few small things to do but that wouldn’t take long at all. She had a few other knick-knacks to place throughout the room. She had found party hats in the supply room much to her surprise. This room was ready for the promotion party and she was satisfied with herself. She only hoped that the crew would think so too. She smiled as she left the room to grab the party hats and found herself anticipating the event.

Party Preparations

Sickbay, USS Valkyrie
December 2401

“All right folks, thank you very much,” Selara clapped her hands and smiled. “I don’t have any plans to mess with the duty roster for now.” She addressed the impromptu Sickbay staff meeting. “Dr. Carmichael is in charge while I’m out.” She focused on Carmichael, “If you’re able to swing it, feel free to run a skeleton crew with the EMH. I’m sure some people want to attend the party.” She shrugged, “And if they don’t, that’s okay too.” Selara smiled, “Okay everyone, back to work!” The group dispersed and went back to their previous duties. She signed out of Sickbay and headed towards her quarters.


Freshly showered, Selara combed through her closet. “Too formal… not formal enough…” she slid selections aside as she hummed. “Ah yes! It’s perfect.” She took the dress off the hanger. “I hope it still fits.” Selara pulled the dress on and stared at herself in the mirror. “Like a glove,” she smiled. It was a knee-length sheath dress, emerald green in color, with a sweetheart neckline.

Truth be told, she wouldn’t look all that out of place in a Dixon Hill holonovel. “Why, Mr. Hill… I don’t have the foggiest idea where the Ruby Heart could be,” Selara pleaded to her reflection, hands over her heart.

“I know betta than to trust a dame like you,” Selara took on an old-timey gangster voice. She sneered at her reflection with one eye closed.

“But I do know where this is,” She formed a finger gun and pointed it at the reflection. “Pow,” she said softly, pulling the trigger. “And I did murder my husband!” She added with extra flair.

Selara covered her mouth and giggled. She walked back into the bathroom to style her hair.


Selara did a full turn in the mirror, admiring her handiwork. She added a small pearl necklace with matching earrings to the ensemble. She checked her hair, which was a Gibson Tuck, making sure it held. “Knock ’em dead, Scarlett ol’ girl!” Selara pointed at her reflection, referring to her Dixon Hill moniker Scarlett Mazzetti. She laughed as she left her quarters, her heels clicking on the deck plating.

All Dressed Down And Somewhere To Go

Martel's Quarters, USS Valkyrie
January 2402

Martel grunted as he pushed the bench press slowly upward. He was wearing out, this was his last set and he had upped the weight. Trying to keep the sounds of his exertions to a minimal level, he finally succeeded. He was finishing up as he had a function to get ready for and he was fretting about his wardrobe. Pushing the minor worry away for the moment he brought the bench press bar down again and slowly, painfully, pushed it up for his last rep. His arms started to shake and burn but he just made it with a final yell of effort. Setting the bar on its rests and sitting up, he toweled away the sweat.

The worry returned. He had nothing to wear. Martel wasn’t used to worrying about such things. Formal occasions, dress uniform. Easy, right? Everything else was casual but he was in a quandary here. He didn’t think this party warranted a dress uniform and yet the rest of his clothes were definitely on the casual side. He was a simple man after all. He wanted to make a good impression and so he….fretted.

With a muffled curse he got up, cleaned up the bench press station and headed to his quarters. He’d figure something out. Upon entering his quarters he immediately showered, dried off and looked into his closet. Martel was the type to get rid of annoying or unpleasant tasks first to get them out of the way so there was no use putting it off. Looking at his assembled clothing hanging there, they almost seemed to laugh at him. Short sleeved shirts, some with patterns, one with the Starfleet rugby team logo on it, another was his jersey from the American arena football club, the Black Knights, that he had gotten involved in at the Academy. He pulled a face, good looking shirts but he was unsure.

Martel had a sudden thought. Maybe this was a way to gauge the general attitude of the crew, a test of his own. To see how laid back they actually were. His hand hovered over the Black Knights jersey. “Boy, that’s the senior officer’s mess….please don’t be an idiot.”, Martel could almost hear the multiple voices of his mother and father admonishing him from beyond the void. With a rueful grin, Martel finally settled on some acceptable black shoes, grey slacks and a plain black shirt. The shirt was a bit tight and outlined his musculature slightly more than Martel would’ve liked, but he didn’t see too many other options and he needed to get going. He had packed on a little more muscle on his already heavily muscled frame and the shirt showed it.

Staring into the full length mirror and reminding himself to be on his best behavior, Martel stretched a bit. This was both to test his ability to move in the shirt and to stretch sore muscles and joints. He suddenly missed Nikkira. She was always able to get him through situations like this with grace and humor and make sure his feet and mouth remained separate entities.

“She ain’t here, Dave. It’s done, get over it, it’s been over two years. You knew what it was. She has moved on, you need to as well.”, Martel, admonished himself harshly, as he always did when he had such thoughts. His mood soured. No use dwelling on the past but he never could quite shake her from his mind.

Cracking his neck as he always did when trying to calm himself, Martel forced his thoughts into a lighter tone. He sighed then laughed when he realized that the shirt either looked attractive or ridiculous and he was about to find out which.

“Well, there’s no present like the time….let’s go meet the rest of the bunch.”, Martel thought wryly as he left his quarters.

Home

Main Engineering, USS Valkyrie
January, 2402

The doors to Main Engineering parted with a soft hiss, and Lieutenant Commander Lorra Niala stepped through, the familiar heat of the space meeting her like a forgotten embrace. The scent of warmed metal and faint ozone filled her lungs—a scent that had become more familiar than home.

The warp core loomed ahead, its deep, rhythmic thrum resonating through the deck plating, a heartbeat she hadn’t felt in weeks. The pulsing blue light cast shifting shadows along the walls, painting the space in cool luminescence. For a moment, she stood still, just listening. The Sovereign-class ship had its own presence, its own life. And she had missed it.

Around her, engineers moved with the same quiet efficiency she had come to expect. Some barely glanced up as she entered, too absorbed in their work. Others stole quick looks, offering nods of acknowledgment. One or two smiled, small but genuine, before returning to their stations.

“Lieutenant Commander,” a voice called from the main diagnostic console. Ensign Talet, fresh-faced but sharp, stood waiting. “We weren’t sure when you’d be back.”

Niala stepped forward, her fingers instinctively grazing the edge of the nearest LCARS panel, feeling its smooth, reassuring warmth. “Neither was I,” she admitted, her gaze flicking up to the warp core. “Status report?”

Talet hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding. “Everything’s stable. Minor fluctuations in plasma flow last shift, but within parameters. We compensated.”

Niala’s brow lifted slightly. “I’ll be the judge of that.” She moved past him, her hands already dancing over the console, pulling up readouts, feeling the rhythm of the Valkyrie again through the data.

The hum of the core, the beeping of consoles, the murmur of engineers—it all wrapped around her like an old song she had almost forgotten.

She was home.

Orders Are Orders

USS Valkyrie
January, 2402

Lorra took a step forward, her boots thudding softly against the floor as she closed the space between them. She fixed her gaze on Locke, her eyes sharp, unwavering. “You’re going to that party,” she said, voice low and steady, each word measured. Her lips barely curled into a smirk, but the determination in her posture was unmistakable. “And you’re wearing some kind of pelt—fur, feathers, I don’t care. Maybe something dramatic.” She tilted her head slightly, her arms folding across her chest as she stared him down, daring him to protest.

Flint slightly shifted back in his stance from the Commander, he was relatively new to the ship and was still acclimatising to everyone around him, trying to be more dominant overall he pursued his stance and moved back into his original position, giving a slight smirk as he did.

“This sounds like it would be fun” he said.

“Yes, and you’re going to have fun,” Lorra said, her voice steady, a challenge in her tone. She leaned in slightly, her eyes burning with authority. “In fact, I’m ordering you to.” The weight of her words hung in the air, and the look in her eyes made it clear she wasn’t about to back down.

He stood his ground, trying to ease the movement between them both, he noticed Sienna approaching in the distance towards them both, hoping the distraction would break it apart.

Sienna Frisco, now Lieutenant Commander and XO, had walked into…something.  What it was wasn’t clear. It involved the returning Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Commander Lorra, and an engineering officer.  Her read of the situation was harmless, and Lorra wasn’t short on passion or drive in any part of her life.  It could, if you didn’t know her all that well, feel like she was going to move to blunt-force trauma as her next step.

Thankfully, as XO, she had read the files and slowly worked towards getting to know the Chief Engineer better. She nodded to them in greeting as she stopped next to them.

Lorra glanced over her shoulder and spotted the Executive Officer. A smile tugged at her lips as she turned to face Frisco. “Hey, Sienna, didn’t expect to see you here,” she said, her tone warm but with a hint of amusement. She gave Frisco a once-over, her brow arching. “What brings you to Engineering?” Her gaze shifted for a moment, then locked onto Frisco’s with a playful but firm edge. “And stay out of this,” she added, her smile widening just a touch. “Thanks.”

Frisco resisted the urge to roll her eyes at Lorra with a heavy dose of sarcasm.  The ensign, Flint Locke, was less known to her.  First impressions, or even second if she’d passed him unknowingly in the hallway, mattered on a ship like Valkryie.  She instead cocked her head to the side, a sly smile on her lips.  “I think we’re both here for the same reasons. The hospitality team has asked me to visit each department to get a confirmed head count…and if people dilly or dally over their reply to me – their words, not mine – then I am to employ methods of motivation to ensure everyone that can attend attends.”  She looked at them, “So, how should I mark you both down?”  She slipped a PADD into her hands, waiting.

Lorra accepted the PADD with a bright smile, her gaze flicking to Locke with a playful glint. “Of course! We were just about to head out, weren’t we, Locke?”

Flint shifted his gaze between the two, somehow, he became like someone being thrown around the middle but instantly started to enjoy the moment.

He began to nod slowly, then faster with his eyes looking one way and his head another.

“Yes…” he said sharpish, not to get pulled into an answer that would have been laid out for him.

As Lorra added their names, she tilted her head toward Frisco. “Are you joining us?” Her finger hovered for a beat before she looked up, eyes narrowing slightly as she caught the pips on her uniform. A slow grin spread across her face. “Well, would you look at that—Lieutenant Commander. Congratulations!” She tapped the PADD lightly and leaned in just a fraction. “So, are you coming along? It’s been too long—I’d love to catch up.”

The XO chuckled, a dry edge tinging her words, “Not much choice when you’re the Executive Officer and recently promoted.  Parties are not at the top my list of favorite duties, but it is part of the gig.”  She accepted the PADD back, “Catching up would be a delight – preferably in a far corner away from the main events.”  The dry tone remained as she turned to Locke, “Ensign Locke – I’m sure we’ll get a chance to know each other soon enough.  You’ve got a good chief – even with the aggressive possessiveness of her ship.”  Frisco tossed a friendly wink in at the end.

Flint admired how the XO handled herself, even in a situation she knew was unfolding in front of her, he gave a warm smile and processed to take in what was going on around him.

“Very much looking forward to it” he said.

“That’s right. Remember that—it’s my ship.” Lorra’s voice was steady, each word clipped and deliberate. Her eyes, sharp as cut glass, flicked between them, daring a challenge.

She let the silence stretch before adding, “I’ll see you both there. I need to finish up before heading out.”

Without another word, she turned, shoulders squared, movements precise. As soon as her back was to them, the tension in her jaw eased, and the corner of her mouth lifted—just a flicker of a smile, gone in an instant. The steady rhythm of her boots echoed down the corridor as she disappeared into her office.

A Grapple a Day Keeps the Doc In The Fray

USS Valkyrie
Dec 2401 (Prior to "Party Preparations")

To celebrate his new promotion, Shahr decided to workout. Ok, maybe celebrate wasn’t entirely accurate. He was feeling chipper about the new pip on his collar, and while inspecting his own reflection in the bathroom, Shahr decided a fresh LTJG should be in better shape than he currently was. It didn’t matter that Shahr actually was quite toned already. It was a well-known fact that the probability of finding something one dislikes about one’s appearance is directly proportional to the amount of time spent in front of a mirror.

“Hmmm” Shahr pondered aloud, to his attentive but silent sink. “I wonder if that’s worth a research paper?”

That idea was quickly discarded, as psychology was pretty far outside his wheelhouse of photonics theory. Still, there was exercise to be had. With a quick change into his gym clothes, Shahr headed to the holodeck.

Not half an hour later, Shahr exited the holodeck, clutching his left side and wheezing. “Ok,” he thought to himself. “Maybe cranking up the difficulty one more time – eight times in a row – was a bad idea.” He had been wrestling, sparring with a holographic opponent of his own design. He’d written a program containing a variety of unusual alien opponents. Each opponent had a unique advantage, such as a third (or fourth) arm, or telepathy, or eyes on the back of its head. Shahr was (rightfully) confident in his combat capabilities against most humanoid species he might encounter, but who knows what else is out there? “Expect the unexpected,” said every instructor he’d ever had. So, he tried. And what did he get for his troubles? Maybe a fractured rib?

Hobbling down the corridor, Shahr made his way to sickbay. The door slid open, invitingly. If the door was irritated he took so long to pass through, it made no mention of it. Glancing around, Shahr spotted a Lieutenant Commander he didn’t recognize.

“Excuse me, ma’am? Respectfully request some assistance, unless you are busy.”

Selara turned to the sound of Shahr’s voice. “I’m never too busy for a patient,” she replied with a smile. She was taken aback by his disheveled appearance. “Especially you Security/Tactical types. I swear you invent new ways to harm yourselves.” She chuckled, picking up a PADD and tricorder. “I’m not yet familiar with everyone here. What’s your name?”

Shahr smiled at being mistaken for a ‘security type.’ Grinning, he replied “Lieutenant JG Shahr Th’tholler, ma’am. I prefer to go by Shahr, if you don’t mind.” He watched as the doctor waved the tricorder around his torso. “Oh, and I’m actually in the science department; photonics theory. I just apparently don’t know my own physical limits.”

Selara pulled up Shahr’s file, “Photonics…,” she read. “Have a seat, Lieutenant.” She motioned to the nearby biobed.

Grimacing, Shahr shuffled over to the bed and gingerly laid out on it.

“You’re in a relatively stable environment. Let me guess: An experiment went awry?” She chuckled and scanned his side with a probe, watching the tricorder in her other hand.

“Oh! Well that would certainly be more excitement than my usual experiments. No, I am a bit ashamed to admit I was just pushing myself too hard in a training sim on the holodeck.” Shahr cast his eyes down, not wanting to meet the doctor’s gaze at the moment. “I wrote a program to fight unusual opponents, and I may have been overeager in cranking up the difficulty.”

“Well that, Mr… Shahr,” Selara corrected herself. “Is the reason they suggest consulting a physician before participating in a strenuous exercise program.” She said while consulting her PADD. “I probably would’ve told you what a foolish idea it was.” She chuckled and looked to him, “professionally speaking.”

“What’s the damage, doc? Confined to a wheelchair for life?” Shahr wasn’t sure where all his quips were coming from lately. It wasn’t something he’d ever done in his life on Andor. Must be the two jokester petty officers in the lab he thought to himself. No, he argued internally. This has been developing for a while.

Selara chuckled, “Not for life, but I do think some Borg nanites might be in order…” She gave a look of consideration. “I’ll have to reach out to some colleagues in Starfleet Medical.”

Now Shahr did meet the doctor’s gaze. He gulped. “Uh, well… surely there are alternative treatments? The wheelchair might be preferable!”

Selara laughed at Shahr’s response, “I’m kidding, of course.” She took a PADD and handed it to Shahr. “You bruised your ribs, quite severely.” She took on a more serious tone. “If you had gone much further, you would have certainly fractured them.” Selara typed commands into her PADD. “I’m sending you an exercise routine that would be more appropriate, complete with advancement steps. After, of course, your 2-weeks of mandatory light duty. And come back for evaluation and we’ll go from there.” She shut down his biometric data from the display and PADD. “I would also recommend some anti-inflammatory gel and deep breathing exercises. All of that should be on there,” she motioned toward the given PADD.

Shahr glumly accepted the PADD. 2 weeks?! That seemed excessive. Shahr would know; he suffered from the same condition that many people with advanced degrees shared: the misbegotten belief that they also had medical degrees. Still, better to keep this particular opinion to himself. “I will replicate some gel.” Shahr glanced up at the doc again. Not seeing any signs of humor anymore, he quickly added “and of course, rest up while I heal. Thank you ma’am.”

With PADD in hand, Shahr shuffled his way out of Sick Bay and started the slow journey back to his quarters. Was it too late to find some of those Borg nanites?