The Sheridan had just departed Starbase 330; as per his orders Raygi Benyan was on his way to see the Commanding Officer of the ship, Captain Maxwell Stivers. The recently released Bajoran did not know whether he was being assigned to this Reliant class vessel or not…all he knew is that in the thirty minutes he had been on board, the reception from other officers and crew had been chilly at best. Raygi followed the standard procedure of announcing himself via the door chime, and he was instructed to enter. 

The Ready Room still had a sterile, almost antiseptic feel. Not surprising, seeing as how the Sheridan had only rolled off the assembly line just four short weeks ago. There were no personal mementos, no pictures…just the standard Starfleet issue furniture In drab tones of blue and gray. Raygi approached the desk and spoke. 

“Raygi Benyan, reporting as ordered,” he said in a clipped, efficient tone. 

“Lieutenant,” said Captain Stivers. The older man smiled slightly, but it did not seem to reach his eyes; this was a smile of courtesy, not of welcome. “Please take a seat. Would you care for a beverage?”

”No thank you, Captain.“ Raygi sat in the offered chair, placing his hands on his knees. “Forgive me, Sir, but my orders were somewhat vague. I was instructed to report to you, but that is all.“

“Yes, about that. I had originally intended to take you on board as one of my gamma shift Operations Officers, working under Lieutenant Commander Crawford. As I was finalizing the transfer orders, an offer came in from the USS Aquarius for the Assistant Chief of Operations slot.“ Stivers folded his hands on the desk in front of him, leaning slightly backward. “Since you chose to remain in Starfleet after being demoted, am I correct in assuming that you would like to continue to ascend the ladder and advance further?”

”You are assuming correctly, Captain.“

”Good. Because quite frankly, I think the position on the Aquarius is your best shot at redemption. We will rendezvous with that vessel in a few days…so when that happens, you will disembark and transfer over. Any questions?”

”Permission to speak freely?”

”Of course, Lieutenant.“

”If you didn’t fight to keep me, then apparently you did not really want me in the first place. With all due respect, Sir.“

Captain Stivers let out a long breath through his nose. “I was told you were a feisty one, Mister Raygi. Don’t mistake my lack of intervention for a lack of caring on my part.“

Raygi turned his head slightly to the side. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.“

”I’m a firm believer in second chances and redemption, Lieutenant. The reason why I let the Aquarius have you is because I believe it is the better option for a career-minded individual. If you are going to regain Starfleet‘s trust, you should be in a position with some responsibility. Prove to them that keeping you was the right decision.“

”Oh. Well, when you put it that way…”

”We will rendezvous with the Aquarius in a few days. I suggest you take that time to familiarize yourself with their systems.“

”Absolutely.“

”Dismissed, Lieutenant.“

It was another day aboard the Aquarius as they had just finished their first mission, Tajir had been released to return to duty as the Aquarius left Caldos behind heading towards the old Romulan Neutral Zone. Tajir walked onto the bridge and everyone stopped what they were doing to look at him with a smile on their faces.

“Captain on the bridge,” Sato replied as they stood at attention.

Smiling in return as he knew they were glad to have him back after what he had gone through on Caldos. “At ease,” he replied as everyone returned to their stations and their work. 

Tajir headed into his ready room as he need to finish some reports before sending them to Starfleet Command as well as review other reports, staff changes, and duty assignments as they traveled. 

After walking in he headed for the replicator and grabbed himself a cup of coffee then sat down at his desk, no sooner than he did a message popped up on his computer. Opening the message he began to read, raising an eyebrow as he finished, “interesting.” He replied though no one else was in the room with him.

“Looks like we will be getting a problem child,” he replied though in his mind everyone deserved a second chance. He would just be keeping an extra eye on him, the transport would meet up with them tomorrow afternoon for transfer.

The three prisoners would also be transferred to the ship to be taken back to Starbase Bravo for trial as well. He started working on his report of what had transpired on Caldos and the three prisoner’s roles in the situation. 

He sat there for a moment thinking about all that had transpired on Caldos as well as his close call with losing his life. After a few moments of staring off, he rubbed his face and began to work on his reports, though not soon after he started the comm channel went off.

“Bridge to Captain Derohl, you have an incoming transmission from Devron Fleet Yards.” Ensign Sato replied over the channel.

Raising an eyebrow wondering who it could be, “send it to my office.” Tajir replied as the comm channel ended and his computer began to beep. Tapping a few buttons the screen changed to an image of his wife Sari, smiling he hasn’t been able to talk to her since they arrived at Caldos.

“Good morning my dear,” Tajir replied.

“How dare you not call me and tell me what happened, instead I had to hear about it through the grapevine.” Sari spat out which caused Tajir to raise an eyebrow at her straightforwardness in getting to the point.

“I am sorry dear, I had planned on calling you today,” Tajir said knowing full well he wasn’t going to win this one.

“I should have been notified sooner Tajir!” Sari exclaimed as she rolled her eyes with a sigh escaping her lips.

He just nodded, “sorry.” Tajir replied before changing subjects, “so how are things going over there on Devron?” Tajir asked while looking at his lovely wife over the screen.

“It’s going, though things have been a bit busy nothing out of the ordinary,” Sari replied. “How are you doing?” She asked looking at him, she missed him and she hoped she sees him soon.

“I am doing alright, back on duty heading toward the old Romulan Neutral Zone,” Tajir replied.

“Try not to get yourself killed again,” Sari replied with a smile.

“Well I can’t promise that but I’ll try,” Tajir replied as they very well knew the dangers of being on a starship. They would continue to talk for a while longer before they had to get back to work. After the channel closed Tajir sat back in his chair and signed before getting back to work.

Elizabeth sat rigidly bow in right hand and violin to her chin.   Over the speakers played a melancholy piano accompaniment, as she played along to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.  The notes rose and fell as the vibrato echoed off the walls as the violin seemed to weep and then scream out in agony. 

As the final notes fell to silence the dull hum of the ship came back, and it seemed to punctuate the loneliness she felt aboard the Aquarius. Sighing she slid her violin into its case and carefully closed the lid.  

Standing she went to the replicator and got herself a coffee. She had been dreading going over her messages. Her cousin Ethan, and his ship were missing in the wake of the century storm.  Dimly she wondered how her Uncle Milo was dealing with that… or his wife Trinity.   They had the twins and another baby on the way.

Sitting down behind her computer she opened it and to her surprise there were no new messages.  I guess there’s no new news, she mused.

Sighing she logged into the subspace network and after a few minutes later her mom appeared on the screen.  “Hey Mom.”

“Liz?  What time is it there,” her mom asked concerned.

Elizabeth shrugged.   She really didn’t know,  but if she had to guess it was well after midnight.  “It’s late,” she admitted, “Couldn’t sleep. Keep thinking about Ethan,  and other things.”

“Other things?” Her mom asked.  

Elizabeth took a sip of her black coffee and then took a deep breath before continuing.  “On our last mission a group of criminals were causing earthquakes.  Our captain was buried alive. Every time I close my eyes to sleep I see that rubble.  It scares me mom.”

“Oh sweetie,” her mother cooed.  “You’re here, and you’re fine.”

“I know.  It’s just messing me up.”

Her mother gave her a warm smile, “Tell me all about it.”

Elizabeth spent the next ten minutes detailing the mission in great detail.  Her mother was a good listener,  and only interpreted to make poignant observations or ask relevant questions.   After telling the whole story she felt better.

“I suppose you’re right.  I hadn’t thought of that time that fort we built collapsed in on us as kids.  I think I tried to block it out.   I was probably only buried for fifteen minutes before dad dug us kids out, but it felt like days. The wood and dirt made it real hard to breathe too. Speaking of dad. How is he?”

“He’s doing good. You know he had that heart replacement last month after his second heart attack.”

“I kept telling him that he needed to exercise.”

“You know your father.  He is always using that store as an excuse… the thing is he’s usually right.  We can’t keep good help.  Lost Tony to Starfleet two weeks ago so I have been covering his shifts and your dad’s been staying late. But, we’ll find someone.”

“I suppose you will,” Elizabeth replied worry still etched across her brow. “Why don’t you sell the store.  Grandpa has been asking for help on the ranch for a long time.  With Ethan missing Trinity and Grandpa can’t do it all.”

“David’s running things over there.  Your grandfather just wants us close by.  I love my father, but he’s not an easy man to live with.  Always got an opinion.”

Elizabeth laughed at that.  So did her mother.  She supposed the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree in this case.

“Speaking of Ethan.  Have you heard anything about the Pike?”

Elizabeth sighed.   Here it was. The conversation she had been dreading.  She would have much preferred to pretend this wasn’t happening until she knew something more than nothing. Shaking her head, “No mom, I haven’t, though if we don’t find something soon Starfleet will likely declare them MIA, and presumed dead.  They have the USS Crazy Horse looking for him, but last I heard that ship didn’t even have a captain.  It’s own captain is missing the second officer is in command right now.”

Her mother sighed,  “Milo is… well you know Milo.  He’s playing it strong, but I know my brother.  He’s not doing well.”

Elizabeth sighed.  Her Uncle Milo was her favorite of her mother’s brothers and sisters and she didn’t want to think about how he must be feeling.   He was on Earth with her Aunt Becca as she was an Admiral in Starfleet, and far from the rest of the family. “Aunt Becca, will help him through this. And you never know; ships do pop back up from time to time.”

“They do, but often decades later. Anyway, other than your last mission how is your new assignment?”

“It’s fine. Little challenges for the most part. The Aquarius is a fine ship, but periodic maintenance is a bit of a drag,” she said with a shrug.

“Making any friends?”

Elizabeth frowned,  and after a moment she shook her head, “Not yet, but I’m sure I will… eventually.” Her mother frowned with concern,  and Elizabeth finished off her coffee and pushed the cup aside. “Mom, I suppose I should try to get some sleep.”

“Okay sweetie. I’m glad you called.”

“I love you mom,” she said just before closing the comm line. Standing she placed her cup in the replicator and pressed the recycle button.  

She paused at the corner she used as a music area considering picking up her guitar. Strumming always relaxed her. In the end she decided it was already too late and padded into the bedroom changing into pajamas she slid into bed.

Aki entered her quarters, exhausted after the day’s shift. Per the captain’s orders, she instructed Ensign Sato to set course for the old Romulan Neutral zone, so there was not much to do but wait for their arrival.

She’d already slipped off her tunic before she could reach the threshold of her bedroom. She tossed it on the edge of the bed and then took a seat next to it, bringing her right leg up over her left knee, unzipped her boot and pulled it off from the heel allowing it to fall to the floor then repeated this for her other foot. She the euphoria she felt finally freeing her feet from the confines of her footwear was intense. to her, it felt like she had been in them for days.

She wanted to take a sonic shower to wash away the day’s headaches, but did not have the motivation to stand in place for the tens of minutes she would want. Instead, she finished disrobing and donned her favorite red and white thigh-length kimono with black and gold accents. “Computer, one cup of Ummon tea, ninety degrees Celsius.” she instructed as she fastened the tie around her waist, “And computer play Zen Garden from my audio library.”

Aki always enjoyed listening to older Japanese instrumental music to relax, and so did tea and working on her bonsai trees. She’d brought six with her when she boarded the Aquarius at the Devron Fleet Yards. Unfortunately she hadn’t had much time to tend to them with their mission. Grabbing her cup of tea from the replicator and her pruning shears from a nearby shelf, she went and knelt at the small knee high table by her sofa and began to tend to the first of three plants atop it; a small plant, a dawn redwood,  about thirty centimetres tall in a rectangular jade coloured clay pot.

She began to hum as she slowly manicured each delicate branch. Fond memories of her grandmother began to fill her once previously occupied mind. She remembered her grandmother teaching her the art of bonsai, sitting behind her, guiding her hand where to cut and where to tie new wires, sculpting each and every tree into a unique masterpiece. She missed her grandmother, and while it saddened her that she was no longer around, Aki grew up with the belief that as long as there were good memories, no one would ever be gone forever.

She suddenly realised it had been far too long since she had last stepped foot on the streets of Tokyo. Aki longed to visit her home city again. However, with her present deployment to the old Romulan neutral zone, it would probably be some time before that came to fruition. When we return to a starbase, I’ll talk to Tajir about taking some leave, she thought.

A couple dozen minutes had passed since Aki had begun and with a final snip of the shears, the little redwood was presentation ready. A sense of pride filled her heart knowing that she had not lost the touch. She looked around the room to find a spot to relocate the plant that would showcase its beauty. Nothing felt quite adequate for her liking, but then remembered believing the captain having an empty spot on his coffee table that was just yearning for a splash of colour.

I’ll give it to Tajir as a get well gift, she thought, picking herself up off the floor and then the tree from the table, cradling it in her arms before heading out to the captain’s quarters.

The computer chirped, “The time is zero-six-thirty hours.” it announced in its slightly less than monotone voice.

Tajir slowly opened his eyes and rather reluctantly, shuffled his way into an upright position. Something felt a bit off. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he shrugged it off figuring it was still a part of his recovery. Otherwise all seemed pretty normal. He had no major issues to report to medical and Dr. Simmons had cleared him for duty. This was to be his first day back on the bridge since the incident.

After a brief sonic shower and slipping into his uniform, he opted for a light breakfast before heading out the door, figuring if he got hungry later, he would just replicate something in his ready room.

It wasn’t a far walk to the nearest turbolift, a few hundred metres; a convenience of being the captain. However, the walk this particular morning seemed longer than any day since taking command. A mere dozen metres away from the doors and a sudden wave of disorientation rushed through his head and the room began to spin. Tajir needed to grab hold of the corridor bulkhead to prevent himself from collapsing to the floor.

With a sense of urgency now rising in his mind, he tapped his communicator, calling out for medical assistance, but was not able to mutter more than just the initial call to sickbay before completely passing out.

Aki was already on the bridge, early for her shift that morning as they were minutes away from rendezvousing with the Sheridan to receive their new acting chief of operations and chief medical officer. Even in his present state, she had expected Tajir to also already be present for this arrival, but more than twenty minutes into the shift she was growing concerned.

“Bridge to Captain Derohl.” She called out over the comms.

Nothing but silence in response.

“Bridge to Captain. Come in.”

Still no response.

“Computer, locate Captain Derohl.” she ordered.

“Captain Derohl is in sickbay.”

Worry suddenly befell upon Aki’s face. He was doing fine the last I saw him, what could suddenly cause the captain to end up in sickbay? she thought to herself. Rather than attempt to try and come up with a hundred different scenarios, she deemed it best to go there directly and find out for herself. “Commander, you have the bridge.” she said, directing her comment to Hyden.

Neil was frantically moving about the sickbay, moving from console to console and back to his patient trying to get various readings both from Tajir himself and from the symbiont to try and diagnose what it was that was affecting his Trill patient. Suddenly it occurred to him. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it earlier. He grabbed a tricorder and ran the handheld scanner over the captain. It was clear as day…low isoboramine levels.

As quickly as he floated around the sickbay moments previous, he went and fetched a hypospray and loaded it with Benzocyatizine. It was only a temporary remedy, but sufficient to stabilise his patient short term.

Aki walked in and witnessed the now calmer doctor leaning against the biobed. “What happened?” she asked him.

Neil looked up at the commander and instinctively knew that the captain in his current state would not be able to hear him, walked over to greet her. “Commander, the captain is suffering from low isoboramine levels. I can keep him stable, but I can’t adequately treat him. He needs to get back to Trill immediately.”

Shocked, Aki replied, “Are you certain?”

“Effective immediately, I’m relieving the captain of command.”

The words from the doctor were like a stab to the gut. Aki didn’t want to hear it, but there wasn’t anything she could do. Even though she was the ranking officer, when it came to decisions of a medical nature, the chief medical officer had the final say. “Alright.” She said in a sombre tone, “I’ll arrange with the captain of the Sheridan to take Tajir to Trill; or at least the next closest transport that will get him there. Do what you need to to get him ready. Do you mind if I use your office to contact Starfleet Command?”

“Not at all.” Neil replied, then excused himself to go and tend to the captain.

Steps away, adjacent to the main bay, Aki stepped into the small but efficiently organised office and requested the computer to close the door for some privacy and open a channel to Starfleet Command before taking a seat at the desk.

A solid minute elapsed before the screen on the terminal illuminated and a man in a flag officer uniform with hair as white as snow and two pips on his collar appeared on the screen. “Good morning Commander. What can I do for you?” he queried.

“Admiral. I’m reaching out to you to inform you of some unfortunate news.”

“Oh? Is there a problem with Aquarius’ mission?”

“No sir. The problem is with Captain Derohl. There has been an incident. He is suffering from low isoboramine levels. Doctor Simmons has him stabilised for the moment, but you know as well as I do, that low isoboramine levels can be deadly for Trills; both the host and the symbiont. The doctor has relieved the captain of command effective immediately and I will be arranging for him to be taken to Trill on the Sheridan.”

“I see. If that’s what needs to be done, then so be it. I assume you’re fully capable of handling your present mission without the captain?”

“Yes Sir.” She nodded in reply.

“Very well. Effective immediately, I’m granting you a field commission to the rank of Captain and transferring command of the Aquarius to you. Proceed with your mission as planned. I will send a letter to Trill to Derohl and his family, but should he be conscious enough, give him my regards.’

“Yes Sir. I will. Makoto out.”

Aki sat there a moment as the screen faded to black. She had not expected to make Captain at the expense of a fellow crewmate, but there she was. She fought back a tear as she thought about the captain, someone she had come to respect and admire, someone she even began to think of as a friend, would no longer be around.

Ghant Xerix took a moment to consider his reflection in the small head of his quarters. The Betazoid had large, dark features handsomely arranged on his face. He was of middling height, but excellent posture and an air of self importance picked up where the tape measure left off. 

That self-important air was both bred and earned in Ghant’s mind. Bred because he was a Son of the Third House of Betazed, Custodian of the Mantle of Rixx and Steward of Durona. Earned because he was a Starfleet Commander, and after nearly two decades of work had recently been assigned to the coveted role of Executive Officer on an Admiral’s flagship. 

A rare and difficult-to-attain spot, this position would bring a multitude of advantages to the Betazoid. The day to day command of the ship would largely be left to him, and flagships were a revolving door of Starfleet’s top brass. The exposure to these high-ranking officers couldn’t be overvalued in his career. 

Ghant was roused from these musings by a familiar feeling brushing over his confidence. The sensation was so subtle he nearly missed it. Like just barely hearing a familiar song over the hum of a crowd.

He brushed the feeling aside and stepped out of his quarters, into one of the corridors of the USS Sheridan. The Reliant-class vessel was transporting dozens of officers, and supplies assigned to three ships in the area. 

A trip to the officer’s lounge for dinner and a few cocktails was in order. Perhaps there would be some pleasant scenery in the lounge, he mused.

“Hasperat,” said Raygi as he stepped closer to the replicator terminal. “And a small garden salad, no cucumber, with ranch dressing. And a large ice water.” The platter of consumables appeared in a swirling vortex of photonic energy in the replicator bay. Raygi removed the tray from the unit and turned around to scout a place to sit. 

The Bajoran could feel the eyes of the Sheridan crew on him, and his ears burned from the fact that he was a popular topic of conversation. Not really wanting to be bothered, Raygi found a seat in the far corner near a window. As he sat, he could not shake a feeling that the Terrans would call dejá vu.

Ghant spotted the Bajoran walking towards his seat. Recognized the brush of his consciousness against Ghant’s own just as much as he recognized the face. The Commander let a vulgarity escape his lips before heading to the replicator. He would need a moment to collect himself. 

A few moments later, armed with a tray of Ktarian canapés and a rather strong cocktail, the Betazoid approached Benyan’s table. “Is this seat taken?” He said in a humorous tone.

Without looking up from his tray, Raygi spoke. “No offense, but I would really prefer to dine alone. Whatever you have to say, I’m sure you can say it behind my back just as easily.”

Perplexed, Ghant actually felt a flush of embarrassment before he realized that the Bajoran hadn’t caught on yet. “I’ve never been one to…what’s the phrase? Kiss and tell.” He replied, still holding his tray a bit awkwardly. 

“Look, I…” Raygi began as he looked up. A knot caught in his throat and the Bajoran was paralyzed with shock and a touch of embarrassment. Standing next to his table was someone Raygi had never really expected to see again…his former flame. “Ghant,” he almost whispered. “My apologies, Commander. Of course you are welcome to join me, Sir.”

A smirk reached Ghant’s face as he sat down. “We can forgo the ranks, I think. I’m just a passenger here. Do you serve on this ship?” He asked, taking a sip of his drink. 

Raygi shook his head no as he chewed a bite of his salad. “I’m a passenger too. On my way to the Aquarius for my next assignment.” Raygi paused to take a drink of his water. “Considering what happened, I’m grateful to the Prophets to even have an assignment at all.”

The Betazoid set his delicious-looking canapé down. “I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch, Bennie. Why don’t you help me understand what’s happened to you?” He asked. 

Raygi wiped his mouth with a napkin, placing it next to his plate. “I was stationed as Ops Chief on the Olympus; I had only made full Lieutenant less than a week prior. It was off-duty hours and a small group of us was in Ten Forward. A few tables away Commander Stovek, the XO, was saying very disrespectful things about Captain Takashima. I asked him to stop, but he wouldn’t…so I broke his nose.”

As the last of his ex’s words came out, Ghant choked down the urge to let a string of profanities out. “You…you broke a Commander’s nose. In public. For something less than mutiny…Benyan…So what, did they bust you down to ensign? Make you scrub the manifolds with a toothbrush?” 

“Nothing so simple,” said Raygi with a grimace. “Commander Stovek insisted on following protocol to the letter. I was court-martialed for striking a command level officer and conduct unbecoming.” Raygi put his hands palms down on the table. “I was demoted to Lieutenant JG and sentenced to ninety days at the Jaros II penal settlement.”

At that, Ghant did allow a few metaphors to escape. Incarceration wasn’t justified at all here. This Stovek person must have been very well-connected, or there was more to it. Either way, this event would be a blemish on Benyan’s career for a long time to come. “I’m so sorry, Bennie. I had no idea.” He said after a few moments. 

The Bajoran shrugged. “It is what it is, Ghant. This is going to color the remainder of my career in Starfleet…but I just want to move forward and continue serving.” He looked the Betazoid in the eyes. “My crew mates are all I have left.”

The Commander nodded, letting a silence settle between them for a moment. The Bajoran had been been his lover, his Imazadi for nearly a year when the two had served together on Starbase 332. They had only ended things because of the impracticality after Ghant had been transferred. 

“Well your situation aside, it’s great to see that handsome mug of yours again. I’ve missed you, Bennie.” Ghant admitted.

Raygi felt the ridges of his nose get warm as they flushed beet red. “I’ve missed you too…Sobaru.” It was an unusual pet name to call someone, for sure. Sobaru was a star-shaped blue flower native to Bajor…and it was one of the most beautiful things Raygi had ever seen. That’s why it suited Ghant so well. 

The Betazoid thought for a moment and then, emboldened by synthehol and Bennie’s company, took a risk. “I’d like to keep catching up, perhaps you’d join me in my quarters for another drink?” He asked. 

Ghant made a very tempting offer. Knowing the Betazoid as he did Raygi knew that drinks would likely lead to other, more intimate moments. And Raygi wanted that. But not from just any random stranger…only from Ghant.   

“I would love to,” said Raygi softly. 

A few minutes later, the pair entered the Commander’s quarters. He eyed the Bajoran with a mischievous look. “What’ll it be, Bennie?” 

Raygi stopped and thought for a moment. He decided to choose one of his favorites…a classic Terran cocktail, with a twist. “Martini. Extra dry. With two olives.”

Ghant was just about to retrieve the drink plus another for himself, when the computer interjected in her smooth monotone voice. “Priority Two Message for Commander Ghant Xerix” 

The Betazoid sighed and then glanced back over his shoulder. “Excuse me a moment, please.” He said as he made his way to his desk. 

Leave it to the Computer to cramp my style, thought Raygi with a smirk. Truthfully, his mind was still swimming. It was like The Prophets were attempting to speak to him, but less than a pagh’tem fah. Something was happening, and Raygi would play a part. Of this he was certain. 

Ghant identified himself to the terminal, and then opened the message. He read it quickly, shook his head and re-read it. The words made sense, but the plan behind them made none. 

“I…I’ve been reassigned. How could this be?!” His voice was an odd mixture of confusion, alarm and growing anger. 

“…and I’m guessing you’re not happy about this?” asked Raygi pointedly. “Or are we just being a little extra?”

Ghant took a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose to try and calm himself. “I had been assigned to the USS Lexington, Admiral Vael’s flagship. Apparently there’s been some sort of shortage on the Aquarius and now I’m reassigned to her.” He said in clipped tones. 

“Personally, I fail to see the downside to that,” said the Bajoran with a wry smile. “But why are you upset?”

The Commander let his frustration show in his face. “My career has a plan…a trajectory. I turned down captaining my own ship to XO for an Admiral. It was the next step in a meticulously planned path. This assignment does nothing to further that plan. It just puts me out in a contentious, dangerous part of space, to be forgotten about.” He explained. 

Raygi’s smile fell flat. It was time for a little tough love. “With all due respect, Ghant…snap out of it. The Prophets have given you a gift, and They always do so for a reason. You may not believe in Them, but I do. There are always positives , you just need to find them and be grateful for them. Some of us had to fight just to have the assignments we do.”

Bennie’s words had a sobering effect on the Betazoid. Here he was, having a melt down over which prestigious vessel he would get to XO and trying to comfort him was an officer fresh from a penal colony. 

“Forgive me. You’re right of course. I am grateful for the assignment. Perhaps I don’t understand the reasoning, but I’m glad at least that you and I have an opportunity to reconnect.” Ghant said as he sat on the couch next to the Bajoran. 

“You know, they say that prison changes a man,” said Raygi, inching a little closer to Ghant. “It certainly…deprives you of things that you don’t know you miss.”

The Betazoid’s mind was filled with a million questions, but in the middle of that chaos, Bennie was something familiar. Something good. Someone he had hungered for, for so long he had gotten used to the pangs. “Like what, exactly?” He asked.

“Simple things that most of us take for granted,” said Raygi, looking directly at Ghant. “A handshake. A hug. A kiss.”

The Commander’s face took a slightly more serious expression. “Bennie, the way things are shaping up you and I have an opportunity. I never stopped caring for you. Is this something you still want?” He asked. 

Raygi reached over tentatively and picked up Ghant’s hand, interlacing their fingers together and squeezing lightly. “It’s something I’ll never stop wanting, Sobaru. Come back home…please.”

The two embraced, and all of Ghant’s concerns became an afterthought. Bennie was worth missing out on a flagship for. “Imzadi” he whispered into the Bajoran’s ear, and let thoughts of all else go. 

It had been a long journey in more ways than one but the Denobulan side of Elowen Adair didn’t need as much sleep as the human side so her body did what it always did and compromised with a short nap which did all she needed it to.

Settling at last into her new quarters, she got up from her nap and unpacked all her clothes and effects, organising her uniform for the morning and trying to process all the events that had led up to this moment.

Apart from her personal journey to get here, Ellie had come aboard the USS Aquarius at a time when it was just coming to the end of a mission and about to start a new one, so that was a stroke of luck and it meant that she wouldn’t be on the back foot so to speak. It wasn’t quite such a big deal for the Medical Department as their particular focus was more on healing and taking care of the crew mainly plus a few other possibilities that might roll out now and then. However, it was still quite comfortable not to feel that everyone else knew so much more about what was happening, because you were too new to have all the pieces yet.

Ellie had been shown around Sickbay on arrival and she was due to see the CO after a meeting he was holding today regarding the new mission. If she didn’t get to talk with him today, she always had tomorrow. Now that she knew how good the medical facilities were on board, she was very much more relaxed about the new chapter that was opening up for her. She was excited and as she didn’t need to sleep any more today, she went over to the replicator and had a snack of Denobulan Sausage which was delicious and which reminded her she hadn’t eaten since yesterday.

Enjoying her favourite snack, together with a Terran English Breakfast Tea, Ellie had to smile at the apparent contradictions that she displayed.

The Denobulan traits in her seemed to stretch-out the human traits although nothing like as much as her father, and actually a little less than even her own brothers seemed to tend towards.

Ellie didn’t fit any text book patterns or expectations as the two “halves” of her genetics seemed to be as opposite as chalk and cheese as the Terran saying went.

She knew she would have a life expectancy that would far exceed her mother’s but she didn’t really have a way to measure what proportion it would be likely to offer. Her brothers seemed to have more Denobulan genes than she did……… or was it that she had fewer than they did? As a student of genetics (the interest in specialising brought on initially by her own family’s puzzling dynamics) Ellie was more frustrated by not having a template than her brothers showed, but then again, it was also nice to be so unique. She shrugged mentally and moved on for now.

Taking a much appreciated sonic shower, Ellie programmed some music and did some of her mother’s favourite exercise, Pilates. Ellie had her own version that differed from her Mum’s because Willow’s had been adapted to combine with some Tai Chi where the two could be compatible.

Ellie was proud of her mum for combining two types of routines and self-improvement even though Willow Adair hadn’t done the combining herself but had joined a class with a two teachers working with one another and putting together their own “best of both” interpretations which had then taken off and developed a strong following on Earth. For her own self though, Ellie was naturally structurally different to her mother Willow, of course. This meant Ellie was less comfortable with the combination as taught to Willow and her classmates. Ellie found the Pilates as a single practice was more suitable for her own needs.

After she was relaxed, stretched out, fed and rested, all that remained on Elowen’s “tick list” was an attempt to calm her racing thoughts. So much had been happening. So much needed to be thought out and plans needed to be made.

In an attempt to start from a good, level, steady platform in her mind, the Chief Medical Officer spent a while meditating to quieten her chaos and settle the last part of her that still rushed about in the excitement and fuss that had surrounded her journey here and her arrival too. Detaching and pushing the thoughts gently to one side, letting them come but also letting them go softly, just as quickly as they appeared, Ellie felt ready to face anything, once she heard the comm badge on her uniform crackle into life with an invitation to the CO’s Ready Room.

Getting up slowly, making sure she didn’t trash the calm she had just instilled, Ellie noted that it had been many hours since she had first arrived and already, here she was, finding her way to the Bridge, glad that she’d studied the deck plans on the journey.

The stone floors were warm to the touch, heated by an ancient and antiquated system of steam pipes installed over a thousand years ago, throughout the main temple complex to drive the frigid cold of the mountain peaks upon which the complex was built even longer before, in Q’no’os’s Antiquity.

In that time, before Kahless and the Age of Honour and Glory, there had been an unknowable Age of Blood and Darkness, where the Klingon Homeworld had been wracked by undignified warlords and shameful invasions from the stars. 

It had been in this time that a group of Klingon women fled into the deep mountains and founded the temple as a sanctuary of learning. Their study of the invader’s technology and sciences made them labeled as witches by the lowland warlords and they leaned into the implied mysticism to keep those warlords at bay through fear, naming themselves the Hellborn and Daughters of Gre’thor…when one of those Warlords rose above the fear to call their bluff and begin trekking up the mountains with an army to face them, the female monks became assassins, slaying the warlord with esoteric techniques and infiltration of his camp in the night, leaving such a scene as a warning to his warriors to find in the morning and become gripped in fear.

Or so some of the legends of the Daughters’ genesis stated. As with most Klingon stories, the truth was somewhere in there, behind many imperfect retelling and biased embellishments…though, the temple monastery was indeed ancient, and up until the Duras Rebellion, had been an unconquered and unbreached fortress.

Now it, the real one and not the holographic facsimile that currently occupied the demanse of Holodeck 2, was all but a smote and blasted ruin, haunted by the ghosts of memory of those few Daughters who were left, scattered to the galactic winds.

Q’orvha, had such memories and had been such a Daughter…and her program, Q’orvha-Calisthenics-2, was a means of engaging and utilizing those memories for pursuits both practical and spiritual. Like a storm, the memories illicted the calm of many days spent in meditation and both the raging fires of rage and the depths of sadness and despair from when she had learned of the Monastery’s and her Order’s, destruction. It was in the middle of such differing emotions, where clarity of purpose and intent could be found for the aging Klingon Nun…where her strength could gathered and then released out into reality.

A reality that currently included her opponents, photonic skeletal-like enemies that had been lifted from another calisthenics program found in the Starfleet Security Training database.

When extended through her arms and released via her hands and elbows, it allowed her to break through her opponents bodies…when released through her legs, it allowed her to close the gap between her targets and move right through the arc of her opponents swinging bladed arsenal. It reinforced her hearts and both sets of lungs, to push her further at this quickened pace for longer.

Though she was getting on in her years, that energy, combined with her furthered mastery of the physical techniques employed in her vicious variation of Mok’bara combat, allowed her to fight like she was still in the physical prime of her youth, which had ended some 30-odd years ago.

She allowed the energy to still well up within her, even after she landed the last flying elbow to the holographic alien, which fell to the ground with a visceral thud. She maintained it even as her fallen foes vanished from the photonic temple-scape, as the program reset itself…she only allowed the energy to disperse with a long exhalation of breath, once she had scanned the simulation several times and made certain her area was clear of hostiles.

Even with that energy gone, the Monastery remained in her memory still…and like much like the hardlight projections around her, it remained now only as imagined ghosts.Like so much and so many that had been part of the Warrior-Nun’s life.

Q’orvha breathed deeply of the simulated cold alpine air and kneeled down in the centre of her haunted temple of ghosts, closing her eyes and whispering an old mantra in Klingon to herself, followed by the names of the fallen Daughters of Gre’thor…now all but ghosts, themselves.

Once established in Sickbay and getting used to her new colleagues and the new equipment both, Ellie was beginning to find her feet.  

Sitting at Reception during a break, talking to her newest acquaintance – a young junior vulcan doctor called Salpai – the two were smiling and chatting over mugs of their chosen beverage and recouping before their next rounds would begin.  

As they were absorbed in a lively, casual debate about men versus women as the best kind of spouses, Ellie looked up and saw a large Klingon woman approaching.  She put down her mug of Terran “English Breakfast Tea” and came our around the desk to meet the patient who seemed to be limping.

She began by offering herself as a support, intending to put her shoulder under the Klingon’s arm on the same side as the limp. It could have been a risk since she didn’t know this lady and Klingons in generic terms weren’t always willing to accept assistance, often offended by the offer itself.

Ellie called for her med-kit which Salpai handed her quickly and the CMO directed her new patient to the first med-bay, attempting to help her again, this time onto the bio-bed just a few steps inside.  “What happened?” she asked, with no formalities nor waste of time pleasantries, keen to get to the injury and attempt some kind of repair. 

“Calisthenics routine.” Commander Q’orvha, the pale skinned Klingon stated with a slight grimace as she shifted her weight onto the bio bed. “Holodeck safeties do not protect one from heavy impacts with the very real deckplating. Feels like a sprain…not painful, definitely uncomfortable…you are the new doctor, yes?”

“I am” Ellie confirmed. “Elowen Adair” she elaborated, already setting the biobed’s scanners and ultrasounds as she spoke. Her fingers were lightly flickering across the LCARS controls and the monitor at the head of the bed, behind Q’orvha’s head churning off data, seemingly random figures and icons that might mean nothing to an untrained medical eye but which were all instantly familiar and meaningful to Ellie.

“Hmmm” she muttered, assimilating the data and the readings as they scrolled across.

“You’re right about having strained something. Specifically the ligaments in knee” she said, calmly adding her handheld medscanner to the equipment giving off readings. “It looks like you landed awkwardly on it and have turned it too far to the right. There’s a tear here.” she indicated the side of the knee in question by pointing to the swelling already rising around it but not making contact with her finger, simply showing where she meant rather than touching the area.

Instead she held a replicator to it which took down the swelling initially but left a slight presence of fluid to lubricate the torn fibres. It was always best to work with “Mother Nature” rather than against her. The swelling was a natural defence process designed not only to inhibit movement of the torn fibres before they had chance to mend to any degree, but also to provide the protection to the damaged area of fluid that was purposefully useful in that healing process. She only left the barest necessary plasma but the excess was of no extra use, so she reduced that as a matter of course.

“You’ve bruised it extensively to that kneecap too” she added, keeping up a progress report.

“It’ll be a keep off joint for a couple of days. If you feel that’s too long to be nice to it, then I can immobilise it with strapping, or a caste, or even a neuroblock?” she knew these were unlikely to be popular options because the “strapping” she was describing was going to be a long piece of polyeurotherm material with an outer casing to keep it rigid once the gel set. The “caste” would be a bio-magnetic, locally restrictive movement blocking coating of microformed weljel that would also harden to an even more restricting ‘shell’ for wamt of a better description of the exoskeletal temporary attachment to the outside of the leg like a sheath.

Finally the neuroblock was the most ‘out there’ alternative as it offered an electrical interference to the controls that should travel down from the patient’s brain to their injured area (leg in this case) to make sure they couldn’t use the limb even if they tried.

Each option had its Pros and Cons and all were offered where they were appropriate but if there were more than one that would do a suitable job, then choices were given.

Ellie continued to assess the data as she let those options settle into the Commander’s mind’s eye as to which would be best for her coping with the healing with the least discomfort but also the most effective repairs possible within her daily needs.

“The hip is pretty badly crushed too” she added. “You must have taken the full impact down that leg” she went on, leaving it to her patient to reply as she wished, whenever she was ready”

”…it may have been an impact from a second story.” Q’orvha admitted, letting out a combination of a frustrated growl and exasperated sigh through her bared teeth. “I’ll take the first option. I would rather be slowed down then completely crippled…that way, my leg is still useful in a pinch with the right flow of adrenaline…less likely to lead to my untimely demise…can we just fix it already?”The Klingon spook’s blood-violet eyes shot across the sickbay to track the movements of a pair of orderlies who had entered from an attached medlab, and she twitched sightly as she suppressed a reflexive defence instinct. The truth was that this was not the first time she had injured that leg…in fact, it had been the phantom pain left over from the previous damage, that had caused it seize up and send her tumbling off the holo-monastery rampart and into the court below. 

Q’orvha was fine with sickbays…as long as she wasn’t herself injured…and didn’t possess a fear of doctor. However, her current state was self-inflicted vulnerability and she despised that…it was amplifying her paranoia and letting those old combative Klingon instincts to rise up…those instincts that were usually kept in check by her monastic training.

She was getting sloppy in her advancing age….or maybe it was the general placating nature of living in the Federation, on a Starfleet vessel, dulling her better judgement…

”I have a shift beginning soon and many reports to decrypt and review before the next staff briefing.” Q’orvha added, attempting to emphasize the need for rapidity.

“Strapping it is”  Ellie agreed and began the procedure.  “You might be able to return to paperwork but until tomorrow, you should be protective of the hip.  It looks to me as if you mightn’t always have been so” she ventured her educated guess judging by the data and scans which seemed to hint at a prior injury to the same place.  “I’ll sign you back for light duties and I mean light” she emphasised.  “I know you don’t want to give in to injury or weakness but if you don’t treat it properly and with the appropriate seriousness, you might regret taking the little time now to save a relapse later on, probably meaning a much longer recouperation.”  

The CMO’s voice was calm and in no way hostile nor provocative.  She wasn’t making threats, being critical or even being judgemental, she was simply stating facts that she knew her patient could understand, assess and prioritise as she saw fit – risks considered and consequences on the table.

Still strapping, she looked up to see the Klingon’s face for a moment, to try to discern which way the patient was going to go with this information and choice.

Q’orvha chuffed and then gave another mixture low growling sigh. “…paperwork. Haven’t even used paper in Starfleet in the last 300 years…but it’s about all my job is these days. Fine. Be done with it then, Doctor…so I can return to my…paperwork.”

Ellie couldn’t help but smile.  She too found herself drowning in PADDs full of data “paperwork” but there was something endearing about the Klingon’s huff about it – not that she was ever going to use the word endearing outloud, not and hope to keep all of her useful extremities, such as limbs and head for example.    She finished off the bindings and stood back.   

“There you go Ma’am” she said, pressing the LCARS lights adeptly and producing a data-rod report of the treatment and diagnosis today.  “This will appear on your medical records but this is your ‘copy’.  If you need any extra coding or security then please let me know and I’ll make the adjustments before I save it up to the main Starfleet Medical Records. Please do rest it as much as you can bear” she added, hoping to reason against the Klingon tough culture and knowing she had no hope of making that stick.

”…if you upload it to the main Starfleet Medical Records, I think you’ll find that the extra security coding will take of itself. Starfleet Intelligence is paranoid like that.” Q’orvha stated, pushing off of the biobed and grimacing slightly as weight was placed upon the leg once more. It wasn’t the pain as much as it was just the stiffness and delayed reactions of her muscles from the injury and treatment, that caused this reaction. She steadied herself and stood up to her full height, towering over the hybrid doctor…the Klingon’s cloaked form casting a long shadow across the sickbay floor and furniture. “As for your request that I rest…I will consider it.”

Elizabeth sighed looking at the PADD in her hand.  The work was constant. The ship had changed since their old captain had been rushed off to Trill. The details of which she wasn’t certain where to separate rumor from fact.  Gossip on a ship like this was at an all-time high.

She sipped her raktagino and absently broke off a piece of the cinnamon roll with a fork and chewed it.   So consumed in her own little world did she not notice someone standing next to her for a moment.   Jumping nearly out of her skin she looked over at the officer standing before her.

“I did not mean to frighten you, ma’am.”

He was a young Vulcan in Starfleet gold. Gathering her composure and set down the PADD and fork.  “What can I do for you, Ensign?”

“The sonic shower in my quarters is not functioning,” the Ensign said placidly. 

Elizabeth turned on her seat and entered commands into the station she was sitting at.  “Crewman Krell can make the repairs this afternoon.”

“That will be acceptable ma’am.”

Elizabeth nodded and added the shower to the work orders assigning it to Krell.  “Is there anything else Ensign?”

“I do not believe so. Thank you for your diligence in the matter,” he said before turning and walking out of engineering. 

Sighing Elizabeth stood up.  While administrative work had its place and was needed, there was also actual work that needed to be done.  “Okay, Daniels and Fontaine let’s get on that dilithium recalibration. It won’t do to have a warp core that can’t get above warp seven when the captain wants nine.”

There were some chuckles at that as the two engineers peeled away from their stations and moved to help Elizabeth with the core maintenance.