Ep 2 - The Science of Life in the Rimward (Perseverance/Nova)

The USS Perseverance is tasked with returning to their survey duties in the rimward. As empty as it feels, life has found a way.

SLR 001 – Something’s Out There

USS Perseverance
12.20.2401

“Hey, Jordan.”

Lieutenant Jordan Reid looked up and smiled, “Phillips!  Come in.”  Lieutenant Matthew Phillips stepped into her office in sickbay and shook her offered hand.  She said, “Take a seat.  What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to say thank you for the advice you gave me back in March.  I ended up putting myself out there…and ended up here.”

Jordan tapped off her PADD.  He wasn’t here for the small talk.  She recalled that Phillips was pretty terrible at it.  She asked, “And how has here been?”

He raised his eyebrows, curious.  “I thought you weren’t interested in counseling-type things.”

Her face blushed for a brief moment, “You remember a lot of things, Phillips.”  Reid explained, “Captain Walton recently told me I was meant for bigger things.  She thought Ambrose made me an XO for a reason.  That my future might be closer to the center chair.”

Phillips replied, “I don’t disagree.”  She cocked her head to the side.  He said, “There were a lot of reasons why I left the Erigone at the end.  You weren’t one of them.”  He shrugged, “Like you said – we choose the path that leads to our destiny.  You being here instead of the Douglas…that could mean the universe of difference.”

Reid let a quiet smile slip through, “Well, here’s to the journey of…”

Suddenly, red alert klaxons rang out.  Phillips jumped up and took off for the bridge.  Jordan exited her office, glancing at her deputy chief, “Let me find out what’s happening.  Standby.”  She stalked out of sick bay and made her way to the bridge.  They had been ordered to continue their survey work in the rimward.  She caught the operations chief at the turbolift and slid beside him, “Any ideas?”

He shook his head quickly, “As far as I know, it was harmless nebulas today.”  He added, “The rimward has a habit of surprising us.”  The door to the bridge flew open. Matthew quickly made for his station, replacing the junior officer who had held it in his absence.

Jordan surveyed a chaotic bridge. Lieutenant Hazel Wallaker stood at the screen at the rear of the command center, where the science department had been assigned The Vestibule. She adjusted the markers on the board as the officers in her group reported what they knew as the sensors returned data. In the center stood Captain Wren Walton, hands on hips, staring at the unfurling nebula on the screen, “That wasn’t normal behavior.”  

Commander Park walked out of The Vestibule, her face tight.  “We need to pull back, Wren.  That nebula has enough raw power emanating from it to tear us in two.”  Suddenly, the ship shuddered, and the deck beneath them vibrated.

Walton ordered, “Helm, full reverse!”  

Lieutenant Griffin Maddy at the helm repeated, “Full reverse, aye!” The Pathfinder class starship threw itself backward, and the rumbling beneath their feet slowed until it faded.  Phillips reported light damage reports were coming in.

Maddy turned in his flight control chair, a concerned look filling his face, “Captain…whatever that is – it was trying to hold onto us – I could feel the helm fighting me as we pulled back.”  He hadn’t liked that sensation of competing with someone…or something else out there.  The engines of the Perseverance were powerful in their own right.

Wren turned to Park, “Find out what the hell that was.  Maintain Red Alert.”  She turned and noticed Jordan standing just outside the turbolift doors, “Lieutenant Reid – welcome to the bridge.”  She offered her to the left to her left, and the doctor accepted the invitation.  She explained this was their fourth nebula of the day and the first in this sector.  Everything had been going according to plan and process when they’d switched to a spectrum imaging scan.  “The energy readings spiked – you think it was loud when you walked in?  Every klaxon you can imagine sounded when the sensors picked it up.”  She accepted a PADD from a science officer, read the data, and handed it over to Reid, “Take a look at that – look familiar?”

Jordan read through the sensor readings, befuddled, “That…that is as near to impossible as you can get.”  She rechecked it, “That nebula has…biological readings?”

“It could be why it woke up when we started our spectrum imaging scan.  It’s a pretty harmless check if you’re a space phenomenon…but if you’re something else…, you could be sensitive to it.”  Wren turned to The Vestibule, “Park – wasn’t there a report of some interference or storm or something a few sectors over at the Mason Colony?”

Commander Park stepped back from the shoulder she was looking over as she thought back through the past week’s events.  “Mason Colony…they experienced an unusual shift in weather patterns and climate for three days – sun in the tundra, snow on their beaches.  That was a week ago.”  She frowned, “You don’t think…this is connected?”

Walton mused, “Stranger things have happened.  And they usually do out here in the rimward.”  She asked, “How much history do we have on this nebula?”

Park stepped out from The Vestibule, PADD in hand.  “It was cataloged in 2398 by a science team at the tail end of their mission.  Nothing since.”

Reid filled in the blanks as she stared incredulously at her CO, “You…you think it moved?!”

“I think it knew enough to come back when we headed this way.  If we showed up and it wasn’t here – we’d ask questions – and start looking around.  Did they run a spectrum imaging scan in 2398?”  

Park scrolled through the report they had filed.  She scoffed, “No, no, they did not.  They limited their scans.  Idiots.”

Jordan spoke up as she glanced at the screen, “I suppose the question is now – how is it capable of what it does?  Hiding in plain sight…and then moving around when no one’s watching.”  She shook her head in disbelief, “You always wonder how Kirk, Picard, or even Janeway managed to find the fascinating scientific cases somehow.  I suppose this time it’s our turn.”

Walton agreed.  “It’s why this ship exists.  Partner up with Wallaker and the science department.  How alive and conscious it is – we will have to tread carefully.”  She repeated it while mostly looking at Wallaker in The Vestibule, “Carefully.”

SLR 002 – Questions

Rimward Sector
12.20.2401

“What did the spectrum analysis show before we shut it down?”  Jordan Reid asked as she sat in the science office with Hazel Wallaker. A large holo display showed what they knew about the mysterious nebula.

Hazel adjusted the screen. “It was…confusing.  Here and here, we have clear biological indicators.  But then you have this…” she pointed out two markers. “This suggests some kind of mechanical or electrical reading.”  She rotated the readings. “It looks Borg-ish. If we’d kept scanning, we’d have the data to say for sure.”

The Chief Medical Officer felt her pulse quicken at the mention of ‘Borg.’  They’d just closed out a mission where the nightmare creatures had narrowly been prevented from returning.  Reading and consulting on the case had been enough for her.  Jordan pulled up the data from the scan in 2398, “The scans from the last time look normal…until you read between the lines.”  She shifted the data from her PADD to the screen, “First glance – pretty normal.  What do you notice?”

Wallaker stared at the data, mutely wondering what she was missing.  She hesitantly rotated the new stream of data, pulling apart each piece.  She blew out a sigh as she worked to understand what Reid was trying to get her to see. Suddenly, she spotted something that didn’t belong.  She highlighted the data point, “This?”

Jordan handed her the PADD, “Good work. It looks artificial.  You look at our limited data and what we have – something in there that’s not real.  It may read equal parts phenomenon and equal parts biological…but something in there isn’t either.  We’d have to ask the crew from 2398 why they didn’t complete a more comprehensive scan.  It was a Grissom class at the tail end of its shakedown cruise.  Maybe they were just trying to get home.”

Hazel rolled her eyes, “You’re being kind, Lieutenant Reid.  I’d be digging into their logs and telling them off.”  She stared at the data points they’d unraveled, “We’re going to have to sort this out, aren’t we?”

Jordan leaned back in her chair, “This is when the fun begins, Ensign Wallaker.”

 

 

On the bridge, Captain Wren Walton handed a PADD with the latest report to the communications officer to send to Montana Station.  The nebula hung on the screen in the distance, and she returned to the center chair.  The longer she watched it, the more she wondered.  If it had been easy to explain away, she would have ordered them to move on. The ongoing updates from Reid and Wallaker were pushing her from curious to concerned.

“Captain, we have a Federation vessel on sensors heading our way.” Lieutenant Matthew Phillips turned in his chair at operations, “They’re requesting to speak to you and you alone.”

Walton didn’t hide her confusion from her face, “They were that specific?”

Phillips returned to the message and read, “Please advise Captain Walton that we must speak with her alone in her ready room.”

“I’ll take it in my ready room.  Mr. Phillips, you have the CONN.”  Walton walked from the center chair to her ready room, her mind reeling with questions.  The Nova was the older cousin to the Pathfinder class Perseverance.  What was it doing out in the rimward, looking for her?

As the door closed behind her, she slid into her chair, tapping at the console display on her desk.  A warning message appeared, and a familiar face filled the screen.  “Prentice?” she blurted

Lieutenant William Prentice smiled, “Captain Walton.”

Walton found her words, “What are you doing here?  I thought you were…,”

“I was. Fleet Captain Fontana was granted an additional science ship, and since I’m in a relationship with my XO in training…”  he blushed a little. “It was suggested that I take the helm of another ship.”  He tapped at the console before him. “I was told to transmit the orders to you only. Commander Park has been assigned as the Nova’s commanding officer.”

Wren blinked, “What?”  She opened her PADD and read the entire message detailing the orders.  “He really is taking that fleet captain title seriously,” she muttered.  Park had been with her since February.  Her growth and maturity had expanded.  Walton realized her reports on her XO had been relatively positive.  Had she fallen into the trap of thinking Park would be around longer?

It was Prentice’s turn to blink, “I’m just the messenger, ma’am.  The orders have us paired with the Perseverance for the foreseeable future.”

She smiled thinly.  “You’re not at fault…and honestly, it’s more mine than anything.  I’ll brief Commander Park and have her transferred over soon.”  He nodded and closed the channel, leaving Wren to wrestle with her conflicting feelings.  Park was a good friend and had become an excellent commander.  What was the saying?  Change was inevitable?  “Whatever it is,” she muttered to herself, “I’m going to have to get used to it.”  She slapped at her badge, “Wren to Park – meet me in my ready room.”  The channel closed, and she grumbled, “Godammnit.”

 

“The hell is he thinking?” was the first thing Park said.  “I didn’t make a request.”  Her tone was firm, and Walton could see her confusion clear across the face of her XO.

“I think he thinks you’re ready to step into the role on a smaller ship.”  She raised her hands to slow Park down, “The truth is…I think you are, too.”  She explained the reports she had shared with Fontana and the improvement she had seen from Park, “I think I let our friendship get in the way of you being able to move up.  Think about the Park we started with…not a lot of her left in you.”

“The more you talk and the more I think…it feels like the right thing.”  Park swallowed her emotions that had climbed up her throat, “I think I thought the same thing…we’d be a team for a lot longer.”  She chewed on her bottom lip, “I’m glad you’ll still be close, Wren.  It helps that you and Fontana believe I’m ready for this.”  Her smile was tempered by the quiet tears hovering at the edges of her eyes.

Wren stood from her desk and walked around to where Park stood, gently embracing her. “You’ve come a long way, Seoyeon. I’ve still got your back.” They held each other for a long time, the warmth comforting each other. Walton pulled back. “Now, let’s get you ready to take command.”

As she dried her tears, Park began to accept reality.

She would be captain.

SLR 003 – That First Step

USS Nova
12.20.2401

The lights faded from the transporter pad, and Commander Park stepped forward. Lieutenant William Prentice extended his hand, which she shook. “Welcome aboard the USS Nova, Commander Park.”

She smiled nervously, “Thank you, Mr. Prentice.  I suppose you’re here to show me the way?”  Park had been feverishly studying the layout of the Nova since she’d been surprised with the news in her former CO’s ready room just an hour previous.

His smile mirrored hers, “I’ve only been on board for two days, commander.  I’m still working on my sense of direction.  I’m to take you to the bridge so you can officially register your command.”  He led her out of the transporter room, “We’ve got eight decks and capacity for just over eighty crew – that’s everybody.  Engineering’s been filled with a transfer from a station, and I’ve got the helm.”

The new CO gave him an odd look and asked, “What about the rest?”  She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Prentice explained, “We’ve got about forty crew onboard. It’s mostly ensigns and cadets.  Supposedly, we’ve got some larger classes in the academy, but they’re not due to graduate in another year or more.  The other half of our crew is in transit to Montana, but it’ll be the middle of January before they arrive.”  She stopped, and he returned to where she stood, “I wish I had better news on your first hour as CO.”

Park appreciated Will’s candor.  He was already proving himself, even if he wasn’t trying.  She’d glanced over his dossier – he’d come a long way, just like her.  She wondered if Fontana had considered the similarities as he shuffled the board.  “One thing I’ve learned, Mr. Prentice, is that it’s never boring out here. Bridge first, then staffing.”

The turbolift door opened, and Commander Park stepped back in time.  The bridge was an older model, something she remembered from an Excelsior she’d seen before they were refit into the newer Excelsior IIs.  It was empty, save for two ensigns – one at the helm and the other beside the center chair.  Both jumped as she appeared and stood at cartoonish attention.  Park acknowledged them both, “As you were.”  She walked towards the command chair and chuckled, “Now that’s an interesting design choice.”  The center chair was upholstered in a standard blue, and its arms were arrayed with the usual LCARs, but there were two additional PADD-sized consoles on either side of the chair, well within reach of the occupant.

Prentice agreed, “That’s a word for it. I looked into her history, and she’s had regular refits over the years, the last being pretty significant.  They didn’t touch the bridge layout for reasons I can’t figure out.  It’s all modern systems under the hood, but what you see is close to what she looked like the day she launched.  I looked at the other Nova classes; most had a new bridge template installed within the first five to seven years.”

She circled the chair slowly, taking it all in. Eventually, she stood behind it, gripping the back of the chair, looking around at the entirety of her new command.  Her command.  The USS Nova.  The first of her kind.  And the first command for her.  “I’m sure the engineers had their reasons for keeping it like this over the years.”  She turned to Prentice, “Got so wrapped up in this, I almost forgot…Lieutenant William Prentice, you are relieved.”

He didn’t fight the smile that spread across his lips, “I stand relieved, Commander Park.  The ship is yours.”

She approached the chair, sizing it up.  Her first command chair that was her very own.  Hers.  “Computer, transfer command of the USS Nova, NCC-72230, to Commander Park Seoyeon, authorization code Bravo-Three-Seven-Eight-Walton-Platte.”  A beep and the computer confirmed command of the Nova, and all command codes had been transferred.  She sat gently into the chair, feeling the moment.  Nine months ago, she had been thrust into the lap of Wren Walton with a message – she washes out on you, she’s done.

She sat back in the chair, reflecting.  In that time, she had found her way out of the pits of self-sabotage.  The clock above the main viewer continued to click forward, and she reminded herself that she had only so much time before her friend and former CO would call for a status update.  She turned in the chair, smiling as she did it and relishing the knowledge that she wouldn’t have to give it up to anyone else ever again.  “Mr. Prentice, do we have a roster of our current crew available?”  He walked back to his station and returned with a PADD.  She scrolled through it quickly, thinking aloud, “I can handle science with a deputy…we’ll need Ops, medical, and communications at a minimum.”  Muttering to herself, she tapped the screen several times and handed it back, “Let’s start with those three – have them meet me in my ready room in fifteen minutes.”  He accepted it and was about to walk away when she had another thought, “Mr. Prentice…how do you feel about being an interim executive officer?”

He frowned in surprise.  The two ensigns who had remained at their stations gasped.  He cast them a glance, and they swung around, finding several items of interest to occupy their time.  Will replied, “I know I’m the highest-ranked officer next to you, Commander Park, but…you sure that’s a good idea?  I’m a flyboy – flight control is my gig.”

“I’m learning quickly that if I’m going to be any good at this, I need some help.  Since I stepped aboard half an hour ago, you’ve managed to anticipate most of what I need.  That counts for something.  Anyway, it’s very much interim, Mr. Prentice.  We get the rest of our people aboard, and you can return the title to me if you choose.”

“Is that a promise?”  He was measuring her, she knew.  Command officers lived and died by the reputations they built in those first few hours.

“You have my word.  You might find you like it.”

Prentice didn’t directly respond to her statement, “I’ll get those three on their way, commander.”

She thanked him and turned back to face the bridge.  Her bridge.

Where she belonged.

SLR 004 – The Nova Shuffle

USS Nova
12.20.2401

The names stared back at her as she examined each dossier.  Frontier Day would haunt Starfleet for years.  The reasons were legion in Park’s mind.  The loss of so many was chief among them.  The batch of cadets and ensigns she had been assigned to the Nova was a stark reminder.  She had recognized two of the names, and her doubts about Fontana’s choices being intentional were fading.  The door chime to her ready room chirped.  “Enter,” she said.  The door slid open, and Lieutenant Ada Marie Josephs stepped through.  Her smile was nervous, but her eyes were bright with joy.

“Commander Park.”

Park jumped from her chair and quickly embraced the young doctor, saying, “Ada, I’m so glad to see you.”  She pulled back, “Was that wrong to hug you? I’ve been CO for an hour.”

Doctor Josephs smiled warmly. “Old friends are exempt from the rules, I think.”  She sat in the chair offered and leaned forward while Park returned to her seat.  “Honestly, I was coming to see you at Montana Station.  I was looking to see what was out here for a new doc.  Your Fleet Captain Fontana found me when I docked.  Resourceful man.  And convincing.”

Park handed a PADD over, “He didn’t get to where he’s at by winning hearts and minds every day.  You’re the only ranked and qualified person for the gig, Ada.  It’s not the biggest sickbay in the universe, but it’s a place to start.”  With a conspiratorial smile, she added, “Plus, we finally get to work together.”

“He said as much.  He had a lot of nice things to say about you…so that’s a change.”  Ada stared at her friend curiously – the commander that stood before didn’t resemble the drinking buddy and rabble-rousing partner of old.  Ada reminded herself that she had grown in that time, too.

Park felt her face flush.  She explained her assignment to Captain Walton and the ensuing nine months of hard conversations.  “I’m not perfect,” she assured Ada, “…but for the first time in a long time, I want to do better every day.”

Josephs scanned through the PADD and signed the acceptance page. Then, she returned it, saying, “Who would have thought that Ada and Park would have eventually settled down and become functional Starfleet officers?”

The Nova CO took the compliment with a sly smirk, “Stranger things have happened.”

 

“My brother is very proud of me.”  Ensign Alexandre De La Fontaine sat across from his new CO, a broad smile on his face.  “He has told me he forgives me for conspiring with the enemy.”

Park chuckled.  Kondo was the chief tactical officer on the Dragonfly.  He was exceptionally good at his job.  Alexandre was 21 years old and had just graduated from Starfleet Academy.  She asked, “I noticed you’re not a boxer like him.”

He sat up a little more, his pride shining.  “I specialized in fencing.  A far more elegant instrument than the blunt force of a fist.”  His smile waned slightly, “My brother isn’t as cordial about that choice.”

“Families are rarely perfect, Mr. De La Fontaine.”  She scrolled through his limited dossier, “You started with a medical track your freshman year…what happened?”  She had learned from Walton to ask questions.

“I did not like working on people.”  His face flushed, “I nearly fainted during my first semester.  I changed my focus quickly after that.  Managing the ship and the departments is much more my style, Captain Park.”

She stood, extending her hand, “Then welcome to senior staff, Mr. De La Fontaine.”

His smile could have lit up several night skies.

 

“I, uh…there weren’t many of us to go around, ma’am.”  Just 20 years old, Cadet Junior Grade Catrin Williams stood awkwardly in front of Park, her eyes wide.

Park reminded herself what it felt like to be a cadet.  While not about to coddle the young woman, she didn’t need a resignation on day one of her command.  “It says here you outperformed nearly all of your classmates…and showed up some of the seniors too.”

“In the moment, it felt good to show what I could do…but…uh, it didn’t make me many friends.  If I had to do it over again, I wouldn’t have done it.”

Park observed that the young cadet wasn’t very good at hiding her nerves or feelings. She asked gently, “Cadet Williams, do you want to sit down?”  She watched as Williams eventually sat, letting out a long sigh.  Realizing how that might have looked, her posture went ramrod straight.  Park added, “If you hadn’t done what you did – you wouldn’t be sitting here, cadet, so you can cut that bullshit right now.” Catrin’s eyes widened, and the CO leaned on her desk, “I read you dossier.  You worked hard to get here and even harder to prove yourself.  They don’t pull Junior Grade Cadets to work in the rimward unless there’s a need, and that Junior Grade Cadet is really good at understanding alien languages and communication, primarily biological space phenomena, with a unique talent in Tholian.”  She watched Williams start and stop several times before she told her, “This is where you say, ‘Thank you, Captain Park,’ and we move on to the next topic.”

“Thank you, Captain Park.”

“You’re welcome.  Two other cadets came with you – both science cadets.  Lawrence Peterson, aka Larry, and George Gunderson, aka Georgie.” A quiet smile crossed the cadet’s lips at the mention of Gunderson.  The silence that held gave Park the desired result as Williams realized she’d used her outside voice on her face.  Park reminded her, “It’s a small ship, Cadet Williams. I’ll know about him and you before you do.  Better to tell me now..”

“I…we…it’s…something.”

“Have you two defined what…’it’ is?” she asked.

“Yes…well…no.  I mean…sometimes?”  Her face was entirely red now.

“I’m shifting him over to the science team with me.  Whatever you have with him, you can’t be his commanding officer, even as a cadet.  You know the regulations and processes for this kind of thing.”

She said dully, “I know.” It was Park’s turn for her eyes to widen and cast a severe look across the desk.  Park watched with satisfaction as the young woman realized what she had done.  “I’m sorry, captain.  That came out…,”

“As a tone that you will never use with me again.”  Williams nodded slowly.  Park moved on, “Lieutenant Prentice will have your duty roster and schedule within the hour.  Everything you do here matters, cadet.  It’s a small ship.” She regarded the woman for a moment longer, then stood, hand extended, “Welcome to senior staff, Cadet Williams.”  They shook hands, and Park dismissed her.  When the door to her ready room closed, she fell back into her chair.

This was going to be challenging, she realized—more than she had thought.

SLR 005 – What Lies Beneath

USS Perseverance / USS Nova
12.20.2401

“We’ve got a few options.”  Lieutenant Hazel Wallaker sat turned in her chair at the science station onboard the Perseverance.  “Probes are the least risky to us.  The next possibilities are more intensive scans from a distance, and given the collective sensor power between Nova and us, we’ve got that covered.  We’d need to watch the feedback loop and the reactions of the nebula in case history repeats itself.”

Walton asked from her center chair, turned to face the science chief, “The options from there have considerable risk, I take it?”

Hazel answered, her tone unusually serious, “Sending an unmanned shuttle in, sending a manned shuttle in, and then taking the ship in.  Considerable risk is understating it, sir.  I’m a daredevil on a good day, but my confidence is low in it turning out well.  I ran some scenarios.  It wasn’t pretty with what little we know.”

On the viewscreen from the Nova, Commander Park replied, “We agree.  There is something else.”  She was sitting in the center chair as she tapped at one of the PADD-sized consoles to her side, “We’re tracing an interesting signal that appears to be connected to the nebula.”  The data appeared on the Perseverance’s viewscreen.  “It’s faint…and encrypted.  We’re not sure if it’s incidental or intentional.  Our team is working on it.”

Walton felt a slight smile tug at her lips.  Park appeared confident on the screen and seemed comfortable in the secondary position of Nova’s science in addition to her primary duties as captain.  She said, “We’ll calibrate our probes and send you the settings.  We’ll launch when ready.”  The channel closed.

 

“Probes are launched,’ announced Lieutenant Wallaker, beaming with pride at the short work they had done adjusting the settings on the probes from both ships.  She turned to her console as the twin devices approached the mysterious nebula.  “Sensors returning expected data”, she reported as the distance closed.  The rest of the Perseverance bridge crew watched in anticipation as the probes vanished into the cloudy soup.  The science chief paused, “Readings are skewing…what the hell?”  She turned to the captain, “That’s not a nebula – at least according to the data the probes are transmitting…”

“It’s flinging them back!” Matthew Phillips at operations shouted as multiple alarms and klaxons suddenly blared from multiple stations on the bridge.

Walton stood quickly, “Red alert – shields!”  The obligatory klaxon rang as the lights faded from white to ruby.  They all watched as the two probes were abruptly ejected and headed for the two ships at an alarming speed.  “Brace for impact,” was Wren’s warning moments before their probe slammed into their shields.  The deck shuddered as the emitters embraced most of the force while the inertial dampeners struggled to handle the additional force pressed against the Pathfinder class ship.  A few sparks flew from power conduits.  Then it was over.  Walton asked, “Damage report?”

 

Commander Park picked herself up from the deck, groaning.  She realized the smaller Nova wasn’t built to take punches like that.  Neither was she, she grumbled to herself.  “Damage report?”

Ensign Alexandre De La Fontaine pulled himself back into his chair, accessing his console.  “Engineering reports some damage to the EPS systems.  Decks 7 and 8 report mild injuries and are on their way to sickbay.  Shields are down to 75%…the point of impact shows mild hull damage…engineering is on the way to inspect.”

The CO sat roughly in the center chair, annoyed.  “Keep me updated.  Now, what the hell was that all about?  Cadet Williams, hail the Perseverance.”  She stretched her neck, feeling the soreness rising.  It was her first day on the job, and she needed to visit sickbay.  Not the most audacious start to her command.

Walton was back on her screen, and concern filled her voice. “Commander Park, what is your status?”  The Nova CO replied with what she knew and accepted a PADD from De La Fontaine with updated details, which she relayed.  Relief filled Walton’s face, “Good.  We fared better.  I’ll have Wallaker send over the data we salvaged.  Whatever it is, it’s not a nebula.”

Park worked her shoulder, “Agreed.  Nebulas aren’t known for their throwing arm.  Whatever it is, it’s got good aim.  I’d recommend pulling the remains of the probs for examination.”  

“Agreed.  We’ll video link you in on ours.  See you in a few.”

With the channel closed, she turned to the bridge officers and said, “Mr. Prentice, you have the CONN. Work with Mr. De La Fontaine to get that into the cargo bay. I will grab some science officers and secure the bay as much as possible.”  She headed for the turbolift and waited until the door had closed before she let out a long sigh.  “Goddamn it,” she whispered to herself. She wasn’t sure what was up and what was down.  A nebula that throws up probes?  There were plenty of firsts for her first day, but this hadn’t been on the list of things she expected.

The doors flew open, and she tapped her badge, “Science teams to Cargo Bay 1.”  She swung around the corner and walked into the cargo bay, making a beeline for the console.  Muttering to herself about ‘first days’ and ‘Murphy’s law’ and ‘what a weird day,’ she established a stable forcefield across most of the bay.  She opened a line to the bridge, “Field established – transport the probe when ready.”  Her alpha shift science team entered, confusion on their faces.  She gestured to the space, “Wait for it…” and was answered by the shimmering brightness of the transporters, revealing the scorched remains of the probe they had launched.  “That is our project.”

 

The Perseverance’s probe was sitting in the middle of the cargo bay, smoke steaming off the crisp exterior.  Wallaker stood cautiously on the other side of the room in an environmental suit, eyeballing the returned device.  The channel in her suit was open as she stalked towards the probe, “Sensor readings are nominal.”

The channel was open on the other side of the thick, protective transparent windows arrayed around the cargo bay every ten feet.  Captain Wren Walton stood, tapping at the glass console where the readings were displayed.  “Temperature’s come down, so it’s safe to get closer.  Biometric readings are coming back negative, so there’s nothing alive there.”  Wren watched as her chief science officer approached cautiously, holding a tricorder.

In the cargo bay, Hazel got closer, continuing to take readings as she walked.  No alarms were ringing on the tricorder, so she stepped closer until she could have touched it.  She knelt, scanning the burned surface.  The readings baffled her, “I’m reading…weapons fire? Not very powerful, but there’s a weapon signature – tricorder is classifying it as possibly pre-warp.” She tapped the scanner’s screen, sending the results to the ship’s computer.

Walton’s voice came through a moment later: ” I’m running it through a spectrometer along with a bunch of other filters.  Yes?”   

Hazel could hear someone speaking quickly in the background. She turned to glance at the window and saw one of her junior science officers talking animately with Walton. Through the open channel, she asked, “What does Ensign Carter have?”  The CO seemed to stare at the science ensign for some time before turning to face Wallaker.

“Ensign Carter’s team got the last data from the probe before it got blasted out.” Wallaker watched her turn to Carter and ask, “Are you sure?  Positive identification?”  A furious nod from Carter.  Walton relayed the report, “The probe recorded a metallic interior, electronic signatures, and multiple communication signals being sent and received.  They’re still building a schematic based on the limited data stream, but they’re estimating it’s circular in nature…and older.  Some of the metals and materials it cataloged in its last moments from a generation ago…or more.”

Hazel stared at the probe, “So it’s not alive.  It’s not a nebula.  Someone…built this thing?” She stood, processing what Walton had said.  There weren’t many things that fit the bill.  Her mind skidded to a halt as she realized, “You said multiple communications signals sent and received?”  Across the room and through the glass, Walton nodded.

What are you thinking, Lieutenant Wallaker?”

“Nothing good, captain.  Nothing good.  Transfer the probe to engineering – have them take it apart piece by piece.  I’m going to guess that Nova’s report was similar?”

“Exactly similar.”

“Then that means someone out here is playing with us…and we need to figure out who and where before they know we know. I recommend we remain on red alert, captain.”

“Agreed.  Report to the bridge once you’re back in uniform.  Good work.”

Hazel stalked towards the door into the suitroom.  What in the rimward was out here?

And why?

SLR 006 – The Mystery Below

USS Perseverance / USS Nova / Mason System
12.20.2401

The half-finished schematics of the construction were displayed on the viewscreen of the Perseverance as Nova’s Commander Park explained, “The probes also detected the signal that we picked up – there are at least four communication satellites inside – we think it has multiple uses.  Passive observation, intelligence gathering, and open channel monitoring are functions we believe exist within the sphere.  There is possibly more – without a complete data set, we can only see part of this thing.”

Captain Wren Walton sat in the center chair, PADD in hand.  The two ship’s engineering teams had dissembled the probes and completed an exhaustive examination.  What they had found was giving Walton pause as she contemplated how to respond to her former XO.  “The engineering reports are where I’m stuck.  Lieutenant Edwards thinks it attempted to hack the probes?”

Park answered, “Given the technology level of whatever it is out there – we think the attempts were default programming – anything that comes inside would be poked and prodded as it knows how.  It’s pretty old technology, and the probe would have disregarded it.  The marks they found suggest a tool of some kind…those old screwdriver tools are the best approximation they could make.”

Walton moved on, still befuddled.  “We think we found the signal’s origin – it bounces off a few buoys on the way.  Wallaker?”  The chief science officer shifted the map onto the screen.  “It’s a planet in the same system as Mason Colony on Mason II.  There are seven of them, and four are habitable.  Mason III is where we think the signal originates.  Sensors are showing an empty planet.”

Park tapped at her side panels, bringing up the data that was being shared, “The signal frequency is curious.”  She turned in her chair, “Cadet Williams – take a look at the data stream around the signal and what they’re looking at.”  She faced forward, “Given how engaged the communications pattern is…I don’t think this is an automated signal.  I think we’ve got someone on the planet.” 

A young cadet stepped into the frame, a PADD in her slightly shaking hands, “Uh…yes.  Captain Walton.  Cadet Williams.  I’ve had a chance to take a quick look.  This is a bit newer technology, but not by much.  To power whatever’s communicating with the…thing…you’d need a stable power source…or a large generator, a permanent communications setup…and someone to run it.  If our hypothesis is true, this device requires constant supervision.  I’ll see what more I can find out.”  She skittered out of the frame and back to her station.

Wren sat back in her chair, wondering what wonderfully weird thing they would find on Mason III.  She told Park, “Leave a probe a reasonable distance from the…thing.  Put a small team on 24-hour watch in the project control center.  Set course for Mason III and engage on our signal.  Let’s stand down to Yellow Alert for now.”  She closed the channel.  “Set our course. Standby.”  She waited a moment.  Whatever was next was unknown.  She leaned forward, “Signal the Nova.  Engage.”

 

“Nothing.  Reading a dusty planet with no human, animal, or alien life signs.”  Hazel Wallaker reran the scans, “Nothing.  The last scan reports in 2398 were different.  They reported extensive foliage from tropical to temperate climates with varying topography.  They recorded high peaked mountains to low river basins.”

Walton stared at the screen. Mason III appeared, as Wallaker’s sensors reported—a dusty planet capable of supporting some kind of life.  And yet, there was no evidence of any life across the spectrum of biological measurement.  “What in the rimward is going on here?”  She stood and walked to stand behind her chief science officer, “Load a probe for planetary observation. Launch when ready.”  It took Wallaker moments to make the proper programming, and soon, a streak of light arched across the screen and headed for the planet.

“Video feed active,” Hazel confirmed, and the rough entry through the upper atmosphere filled the view screen.  Soon enough, it cleared and entered the lower atmosphere.  The bridge crew gasped.  It was beautiful.  Expansive mountains filled the screen as the probe adjusted its course.  The peaks then slowly fell into rolling hills and vast fields of grasslands with rivers snaking through them, the bright blue of the rushing water reflecting in the sunlight.  It continued to show a gorgeous planet until it crested a hill.

Wren blurted, “The hell is…that?”  A cragged castle rose from a valley floor, reaching into the bright blue sky as if to scratch away the joy in the clouds.  It was old and built with cragged rocks.  Blasts of light and smoke burst from the ramparts.  The probe dodged whatever was shot at it.  “Wallaker?”

Hazel was shocked, “Captain, I’m reading those as… modified gunpowder canons?  From what I can tell, they were converted into energy weapons of some kind…thankfully the probe has some evasive programming built in.”

The CO muttered to herself, “What in the rimward…”

Lieutenant Matthew Phillips glanced to his console as a rude beeping interrupted the rapturous views.  He shook his head, not sure what to believe.  “Captain, we’re being hailed.  By The Emperor of The Mason System.”

Walton stared at him as if she hadn’t heard him the first time or hadn’t quite heard what he had said.  “You said…the…what?”

He repeated, amused, “The Emperor of The Mason System.”

SLR 007 – Emperor Maximus

USS Perseverance / Mason III
12.20.2401

Captain Wren Walton blinked her eyes several times, hoping to clear the mystery from her vision.  It didn’t work.  “The Emperor of The Mason System,” she repeated, wanting it to make sense.  It didn’t.  “Open the channel.”

The screen blinked over to a large throne room filled with a phalanx of guards surrounding a tall man dressed in bright, regal colors.  He towered over the armed men, his eyes a steely blue.  At his side was a long energy sword.  When he spoke, a deep bass voice reverberated in the speakers.  “I am The Emperor of The Mason System, the most high ruler of this place. You are ordered to leave this place and abandon any attempts at inspection or invasion.  We are prepared to repel you, Starfleet, as we have repelled countless others.”

“I’m Captain Wren Walton of the Federation Starship Perseverance.  This system is not just home to you but also one of our colonies.  There are approximately 1000 souls on Mason II.  They’ve called it home for the better part of two years.  This is the first we are hearing about you and your…position.”

The Emperor spat back, “Then they must leave.  We have tolerated their existence long enough – and have attempted to make them leave by reminding them of our power.  Our grace and patience have reached an impasse.  They must leave.  And so must you.”

The man’s nature had not just crawled under her skin.  It had dug into her nerves, biting into each one of them as he thrashed about making his demands.  Her usual approach to first or second contact would now have to deviate into territory where their people on Mason II had been threatened.  She clarified, “To clear up my confusion – you took…action against the colonists on Mason II?”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Multiple times!  They simply would not leave when prompted by my various methods.  My last straw came when they did not heed my final warning with calamitous weather to show them my true power.”  The Emperor huffed, “You and they must leave.  If you do not, I will exercise my power upon you first, and then I shall wipe them from the face of Mason II.  This is my system, and I rule over it all.”

“Would you give me a moment to confer with my crew, Emperor…?”

“Maxiumus Bernard Pruft.  Emperor Maximus Bernard Pruft.”

Wren turned to Phillips at operations, “Mute him audio and visual.”  She sighed, “Search records for a Bernard Pruft while you’re at it.”  She slid her chair around to Wallaker, “Our probe still active?”

Lieutenant Wallaker nodded to the feed displayed at her station, “His defense weapons have stopped firing at it for the moment.”

Walton asked, “Life signs?”

Hazel didn’t immediately answer.  Not because she wasn’t sure of the reading – she had checked three times.  It was because…she replied, “The only biological life sign I detect is him.  There’s plenty of plant life and animal life to be found, even on the short-range sensors on the probe…but when it comes to life that we can talk to?  He’s the only party in town.”

“The Mason II colony has been in operation for about two years?  That’s about when the Grissom class ship finished up. They confirmed the existence of the nebula.”  Wren turned back to face the Emperor, who, lacking an audience he could see, was strutting about his throne room, speaking to the guards.  “What if he was here before?  They read Mason III correctly…but then it changed.”

Lieutenant Griffin Maddy turned in his chair at the helm, “What if he changed it?  If I saw the Federation coming around to look at places where they could settle colonists, I’d do what I could to keep them out of my nice little corner of the system.”  He shrugged at everyone’s mild shock, “He doesn’t play well with others.  Maybe he got tired of seeing Mason II’s success and growth.”

Walton had frowned as he started his thought process, but now her eyebrows went wide, “He got jealous.  Envy is a powerful emotion.”  She watched the Emperor prat around on screen for a few more minutes, “The Nebula is some kind of observational system…and defense platform.  It’s old but still does the job.  If we dug into the trading route records and reports over the last two years…and even before…a pattern might develop.”

Griffin asked, “So…what do we do with him?  We can’t let him keep harassing Mason II.  He’s lucky he didn’t kill anyone with his weather modifications.”  The young helm officer recognized some of his own weaknesses in the man.

Wren turned her full attention back to the viewscreen, “No, we can’t do that.  He’s good at making it all work, and the technology has kept the ruse alive.”  She thought a little longer, “I think we try to stroke his ego a little.  Phillips, let’s bring him back.”  A beep, and the channel was back open.  “Emperor Maximus Bernard Pruft, we would like to send a small delegation to greet and discuss our…removal from the sector.  No more than three of us, unarmed.  We would like to present you with gifts in apology for our intrusion on your lands.”  She watched his face carefully.  His eyes searched her own for traces of trickery, but she knew he wouldn’t find any. Her poker face was her secret weapon.

He sighed in acceptance, “No weapons.  Three of you.  You must attend, Captain Wren Walton.  I will send you the coordinates for your shuttle to land.”  The channel blinked out.

Wren turned to the bridge, “Lieutenants Reid and Wallaker are with me.  Phillips, you have the CONN.  Send an updated report to Montana Station.  Keep an open channel with Commander Park and monitor the probe for changes.”  She stood and headed for the turbolift – maintain yellow alert – he starts throwing things again; I’d rather you be prepared.”

 

Doctor Jordan Reid stepped into the shuttle bay, medical kit in hand.  “Emperor Maximus Bernard Pruft, eh?”

Wallaker handed her a PADD. “We did find someone named Bernard Pruft in the extended database. He left Earth fifty years ago and hasn’t been seen since. He had no family, so the local constabulary reported him missing when they investigated a smell in his apartment—his dog.  If it’s him, he’s got one hell of a story.”

Jordan skimmed through the report, “Says here he lost his son at an early age… wife divorced him and moved on.  He graduated high school, went to college, and worked a desk job at a local operations office most of his life.  Not much here indicates a villain origin story.”

Walton stepped out of the shuttle, “You never can tell.  Truth is, it could be him, could be anyone.  Maybe he killed the original one and took his name.  We won’t know until we talk to him.”

Jordan loaded her equipment, “We’re really going in unarmed?”’’

“We are. Nova’s launching a backup team to stay in case things get hot. They will be armed.”  She gestured to the shuttle. “Checklist is complete—Wallaker, you’re on pilot duty. Reid, OPS.”

Hazel smiled as she stepped into the shuttle, “And you, captain?”

Walton smiled back with a wry twist, “Someone’s got to captain this boat.  Let’s get on our way.”

SLR 008 – The Facade of it All

Mason III
12.20.2401

The landing site was old and overgrown with weeds and grass.  Captain Walton stepped out first, scanning the area around them. Satisfied it was clear, she stepped down on the ground, followed by Lieutenants Reid and Wallaker.  The path to the castle was similar.  Wren slipped out her tricorder, “I don’t think anyone has been out here in a while.”

Hazel Wallaker walked alongside her and then pulled ahead, scanning various parts of the path, glancing at the sky, “Class M in every possible way.”  She pointed at the castle, “That’s not part of this place.  Whatever he built it out of is not native to this planet.”  The science chief tapped at her tricorder, flummoxed.  “Correction – that’s holographic, captain.  Initial scans were being returned with a different reading.”  She stared at the castle, spires and all.  “It’s not real—none of it.  I would guess the throne room is also a solid holographic creation.”

Jordan Reid was working along the path, scanning the plants and sampling the soil. “This place is rich with resources, captain. The soil is rich; these plants have multiple uses in agriculture.”  She stood, amazed, “This place would be at the top of our colonial operations list.  And yet…”

Wren pointed at the castle, “The Emperor. He wanted it all for himself.”  She could understand it at a base level – the prize of a planet.  But he shared it with no one.  Nobody else to enjoy the beauty that surrounded him.  “We need to have a conversation with him.”

 

The doors to the throne room rumbled open, and the expansive space unfolded before them—as it had appeared on the view screen. Emperor Maximus Bernard Pruft stood tall at the far end, the guards scattered around him, ready. “You will kneel,” he thundered.

Wren stopped, cocking her head to the side, “I’d rather talk.”  She had contemplated playing along with his act, but she’d decided as the doors had groaned closed that the time for placating a fool had ended.

He shouted, the cavernous room shaking at the sound of his voice, “You will kneel!”  The guards tightened the grip on their spears, the sharpened ends glinting in the light of the bright sunlight bending through a skylight above.

“I’d like to understand something first.  Are you the real Bernard Pruft or someone who took his name?”

A snarl jumped out of his mouth, “How. Dare. You.”  A blaster weapon was in his hands in a flash, and a bright yellow burst snapped across the room, slamming into Wallaker.  She yelped at the impact and flew up into the air, crashing into the hard concrete underneath and sliding a few inches before slowing to a stop.  

Reid was already in motion, her medical tricorder out as she slid to the ground next to the young science chief. Walton watched, holding her breath. Jordan nodded. She was breathing.  

Wren turned on the Emperor, “That was not wise.”  Her eyes burned with a barreling red fury. She could see him pause as his eyes met hers.  “Now we have to do things a much harder way.”

He scoffed, but she could see his eyes shifting nervously as she stood tall, squared up against him and his guards.  “I will just stun you and your doctor – and throw you into the depths of the sea.”  A sudden boom shook the ground, and he hurriedly glanced around, “What is that?  What have you done?”

Her smile dripped with malice, “You shot a Starfleet officer.  You’re going to hear from us now.”  She turned her head to the side, listening for the cadence of the maneuvering thrusters, “That is the USS Nova on planetary approach.  Her captain is an old friend of mine.”  She stepped forward, “My ship, the USS Perseverance, is in orbit, and I give them ten seconds or less before they figure out how to bring all of this down.”

“What?  How dare you!  I will…”

There was a thunderous roar, and the ground rippled, then shook as several explosions rocked the area.  Walton balanced as the ground stopped moving.  She watched with mute joy as the castle around them began to flicker and slowly fade until all that was left was the green surroundings.

And one man far across, sitting at a large console, blinking at the bright sunshine, “What?  What has happened?  Why is it so bright…oh, no.  No. NO!”

The whine of the transporters was a welcome symphony as security officers from both ships quickly pulled the man from the station and restrained him.  Walton had jogged back to Wallaker, who was sitting up now and groaning at the pain.  Reid confirmed she was going to be just fine.  Wren turned on her heels and stalked back to where the man was being held.  “You are under arrest for assaulting a Starfleet Officer.”

His eyes were wide, and he kept muttering, “What..no…I…no…this…you…no…”

She motioned to the officers, “Advise him of his rights and see that he gets checked out by medical and counseling services.”  She walked over to where Cadet Catrin Wiliams from the Nova stood, examining the expansive console.  “Anything?”

She jumped, her face red at the embarrassment.  “Captain Walton!”  She turned to the console, her heart rate slowing, “Everything.  He’s got logs from the beginning of when he settled here ten years ago to this morning.  Someone will need to go through them – there is a lot, ma’am.”

Wren smiled, “Congratulations, Cadet.  The task is yours.  Feel free to bring that whole console onboard.”  Before the cadet could protest, Walton found Reid walking her way, and she met her halfway, “Report.”

“There was a bank of underground power plants about three hundred yards down that ravine that Perseverance took out.  Engineering is examining the wreckage, but they’ve managed to track down the computer cores he used.  They will get to work understanding how and what he did here.”  She paused and pulled her CO away from the working crowd, “I’ve been scanning outside of the parameters of the immediate area…I don’t think we were the first people he’s tried this on.  There are at least three possible wrecks within range of the tricorder…and since we took out the power putting up the facade to our sensors…we need to look a little more closely.”

Wren grumbled, “Damn.”  She took a moment to accept that this story wouldn’t end happily.  Justice, probably…but not happy.  “Take it from here, Lieutenant Reid.  Inform Montana Station of our progress.”  Jordan stood at attention and was gone.  She turned to stare at the beauty around her.  It was a place that had only seen death and malice.  Perhaps they could help turn the page of this place.  She turned and returned to the work going on behind her.

There was work to be done.

SLR 009 – To Belong

Mason III
12.23.2401

“He recorded…everything.”  Cadet Catrin Williams sat at the main table in the project control center on the USS Nova.  Examining all the data from the console they had taken on board fell to her by order of Captain Walton of the Perseverance. Catrin was coming up on day three of long hours of inputting his logs into the computer and examining them while the computer worked to cross-reference with any known ships that had gone missing in the area over the last ten years.  The Chief Medical Officer from the Perseverance, Jordan Reid, sat across from her, working through the scans and photos coming in from both ships.

Reid muttered, “He thought himself lord and emperor over this system.  If you were deluded enough to think ownership fell to you by the divine right of you and you alone – you’d build up quite an ego in ten years.”  She moved several photos to the screens surrounding the room and proceeded to stand at one, moving the various crash sites into an arrangement, “At last count, five merchant or civilian ships crashed here.  Nova’s running over the surface to make sure we didn’t miss anything.”

Catrin rubbed her eyes and swiveled to watch the lieutenant work, “I need a break from his narrative.  Did we find his ship?”  In the last 72 hours, she had begun to get to know Reid and had found her a surprising encouragement.  She didn’t panic around the women like she did everyone else.

“That’s the enduring mystery.  Any of the five could be his, or he could have hid it well.”  She set the computer to analyze the crash sets. She slid back into her chair at the table, “I understand the Nova’s been assigned to investigate the sector and, specifically, this planet.”

The young cadet couldn’t help but smile, “I am quite excited.  Nova class ships stay in place for extended periods to examine and investigate. There is so much to examine.  I’ve only begun to scope out cave locations for possible old settlements.  If the emperor found it appealing here…there’s a chance others did.”

Jordan admired the cadet.  There was this natural ache to keep searching that seemed built into the foundation of every inch of her instincts.  She had watched and listened to her seek answers to questions barely asked in the logs she had been digging through.  The compilation of the report had become a thesis-level project for Williams.  “You got the luck of the draw being assigned to Nova, Cadet.”  She sipped her cooling tea, “You given any thought to where you want to land once you graduate?”

Catrin chewed on her bottom lip.  Ever since she’d been assigned to the Nova, she had thought about this question.  “I don’t know, lieutenant.  I mean, I do, and I don’t.  Stations are massive with many possibilities of positions, opportunities, and experiences…but a ship is out among the stars searching for the next thing to catalog and figure out…you know?”

Reid chuckled and shook her head at the young woman’s furrowed brows in reaction, “Not laughing at you, cadet.  I’m laughing because I’ve been in those same shoes – wrestled with ship, station, and civilian life.”  The memories of the last year played in the back of her mind as she spoke, “The journey of a Starfleet officer is not an easy one…you do a lot of second-guessing sometimes.” The cadet eyed the lieutenant for a moment in the silence that followed.  She opened her mouth a few times to ask a question and then closed it again.  Reid said, “Ask it, Cadet Williams.”

After a long pause, Williams dug deep for the courage to ask, “Are you where you’re supposed to be now, lieutenant?  I mean…do you second guess moving to the Perseverance?”

Jordan let the question hang in the air as she considered the answer.  She replied, “If you had asked me a week ago…I might have told you my doubts were giving me pause about it…but after all of this…and you…I’m where I’m supposed to be.”  She stood, loading the data onto a PADD, “I should take this to Commander Park.  You keep working at it, Cadet Williams…you’ll find where you belong.  Lots of time to learn here on Nova.”

Catrin watched as the door slid shut behind the doctor.  She returned to the backlog of data from the man’s logs.  Something was in here, waiting for her to find it.  Her hands hovered over the console keys.  “Tell me everything, emperor,” she whispered as she went to work.

SLR 010 – The Long Walk to Recovery

USS Perseverance
12.23.2401

“I’ve never been shot at before.” Lieutenant Hazel Wallaker sat on a couch across from Lieutenant Jordan Reid. Three days ago, the chief science officer had been shot by a blaster at high stun. The initial recovery had been swift, and she had been back on her feet within hours. Reid had not cleared her for duty, insisting on having several counseling sessions. Hazel muttered, “Never mind being shot.”

Jordan made some notes in her PADD. Wallaker had been progressing well. When they had started talking in the hours after the incident, she had been coming out of wide-eyed shock. The soreness remained, and Hazel had initially shrugged off painkillers. That had changed a day after, and they had begun a light physical therapy schedule to pair her recovery with physical activity. Reid suggested, “It can feel like you are not the same after it…like things won’t return to normal.”

Hazel’s eyes widened in recognition, “Yes! I don’t feel like me…or the old me, I guess. When I opened my eyes, I was angry…furious. I had been…betrayed somehow. It sounds silly, but I trusted people…even the worst kind, to not shoot me out of nowhere.” She turned to stare at the bland carpet, “It’s going to be hard to give the benefit of the doubt anymore.”

Reid felt a part of her in the young woman’s words. Ambrose Harris had been cut down by a Devore Imperium officer out of sheer malice and vengeance. It had given her pause about serving in Starfleet. She had walked away to find herself with Harris Transport. And yet, here she sat. “I’ve been there, Hazel.” She related her own story, sharing each detail with care. “I wasn’t sure either. To be honest, there are days I’m still not sure.”

The science chief asked, “Then…you keep doing it…why?”

Reid felt as if the woman was dancing on the edge of heartbreak and hope. “Because as important as it is to sit in those moments…to feel…it’s just as important to eventually pick yourself up and keep moving. You know the lessons from when we were kids – one of the definitions of life is movement.”

Hazel tore her eyes from the carpet and met Jordan’s, “Is there a time limit on how long I can sit in my feelings?” She clasped her hands together tightly, feeling conflicted.

“Yes…and no. I think you know there’s a limit to everything. Your feelings may settle, but the memory of this…it will come back. We’ll need to work on preparing for that as best as we can. You have a long career ahead of you, Hazel. This thing…doesn’t define you.”

“So it’ll come back…these feelings?”

“Yes…but you’ll know how to defend and protect yourself this time. I’ll help you.”Hazel’s eyes returned to the carpet, “They tell you about this in the academy. You don’t believe them, at least the way you should.” She pulled herself up on the edge of the couch, sitting up straight. She took a deep breath, as if loading up her feelings, and then exhaled a long breath, her body relaxing just enough. “Then let’s do this, Doctor Reid. I want to be ready.”