As he stepped onto the bridge, he drew a deep breath. The soft beeps of consoles and the other ambience were not new sounds to the doctor, but they took on a new light. This wasn’t just a posting on some star ship. He had spent four years with the USS Amanda. He had acted as a Physician on Starbase Bravo. Everywhere he had gone, he had always been a doctor. Everywhere he had gone, he was always serving on someone else’s ship. He was always a cog in the chain of command.

It wasn’t until he stepped onto the bridge it had hit him. At that moment the real gravity of the situation started to set in. This was his command. In the past, he had been responsible for maintaining the health of the crew. In the past, he had reported to the Captain. It finally dawned. He was the captain now. Sure, he was a little ‘c’ captain.

Give it enough time, and who knows, he might find himself with the rank to match his new position. He understood that the ship was but a small vessel. He knew that his mission range was limited. He knew that there was a lot of work to be done by her crew. However, the daunting nature started to subside. The Thyanis was his command. 

He was still responsible for the well-being of the crew, even if he wasn’t the one handing out medication and applying hypo sprays. He might not be the one employing the medical tricorder. His job had turned. Where once he had been largely reactive as crew members showed up in his sickbay, the ensign would have to be proactive. He couldn’t go faffing about throughout the former Romulan Neutral Zone.

“Captain on deck.” The clipped, feminine tone echoed over the bridge, and several officers turned to regard their new commanding officer.

As Cimojzen Kurios looked across the bridge, he saw at least two humans, a fellow Trill, and a Romulan who looked like she was going to break something if she stood any straighter in place. In one hand was clutched a PADD, which was now extended towards him.

“At ease.” He raised an eyebrow, taking the PADD with a slight flourish. “If that is possible for our fine Romulan officer.” He stressed the final two words hard. “I wouldn’t want you to pull a muscle before we are underway,” he looked down at the rank pips on her collar, “Cadet-?” He let the word hang expectantly.

“Cadet Etan, sir. I have familiarized myself with your history, and I can assuage your concerns. I will not be a hindrance to our mission, captain. This cadet does not get injured easily.” She stared forward attentively, “unlike your kind, we do not break so easily.”

A tense moment passed between the two. While Kurios looked over the Romulan curiously, he shook his head. “Is that really the best way to address a superior officer?”

This caused Etan to turn her head. “If you review the PADD, I think you will find everything in order.” Some of the edge was gone from her voice. “I also wanted to assure that you understood the assets at your disposal, captain. This is a fine crew. I took the time to study the crew dossiers. Enclosed will be suggestions on the roles best suited to the individual officers.”

Kurios skimmed the report, but one name near the top of the list most interested him at that moment. “Do you believe that you are really a fit for a command position on the bridge?” The Trill tilted his head. “It isn’t very often that a person suggests themselves to hold the position of First Officer. It doesn’t give the best look.”

“If you review the attached documentation, I think you will agree with my assessment, sir.” Etan’s tone was more relaxed now, even if her posture was not. “I merely matched members of the Thyanis according to their skill sets. I became quite familiar with the logistical needs of this area, and personnel are as much assets to the former Neutral Zone as food, resources, or even medical aid.”“You do understand this gives an appearance of impertinence?”

She looked her captain in the eye. “I understand that, sir. I also understand that as captain, you deserve the best that our ship has to offer. I am telling you that I fit the bill. I will tell the captain what is needed and what is necessary. No more.”

After a moment, this drew a smile from the Trill man. He shook his head as he looked over the PADD. “I can’t say that I am as familiar with our crew manifest as you clearly are, ensign.” He hefted the device. “So please, brief me. Introduce me to our bridge crew.”

The Romulan rounded on the ship’s captain, but stopped. Drawing a steadying breath, she motioned towards the helm as she began. “Our crew is of course mostly staffed by ensigns and cadets as officers, sir. Ensign Krause in particular is a recent transfer from Starfleet Headquarters. He had mostly piloted a desk before he came to Starbase Bravo, but his flight record at the Academy was excellent.”

“A little,” Cimozjen wiggled a hand in the air for emphasis, “unusual to post an administrator to a new posting on  a starship, isn’t it?”

This question appeared to confuse the Cadet. “We are a small ship with a junior crew.” She pulled the PADD back a bit towards herself for just a moment. “His simulation record has been excellent. I saw no reason against it.” The Romulan watched her captain nod to himself for a moment as she extended the PADD expectantly. A variety of emotions flashed over the Trill officer’s face as he considered the situation. As irritation overtook her, the Romulan felt her own features stiffen as a flash of anger washed over her. “We are a small ship, with a small bridge, with a small crew, sir. He passed the necessary examinations and his scores were more than satisfactory.” 

“So long as we keep a small presence in the system, and we only make small movements in our small ship, I think we should only have small troubles. Keep in mind, Miss Etan, that we are out there in a role of support. I am less worried about our normal situations. The unusual situations are the ones that concern me.”

“His scores,” she repeated, “were more than excellent. His previous posting notwithstanding, he is an excellent pilot. I have the scores,” she jiggled the PADD in her hand, “for you to examine. More than that, there are records on our head engineering officer, and several other officers at hand. They are just as detailed. Some of them are even more detailed than I have on Krause. I wanted to be prepared for every eventuality. You needed every help that you could when dealing with a new crew, at a new command.”

Taking the PADD in hand, Cimojzen started to scroll through the data. He gawked for a moment, reading carefully through the document for several moments. The mildly antagonistic tone was far softened when he spoke again. “Tell Purh in engineering I wish to speak to her before we get properly underway.” He nodded, clearly falling into deep thought. “If she is half as prepared as you are, I think we will be prepared for almost any troubles we might encounter.” The Trill handed the PADD back to Etan.”

“Yes sir. Anything else?”

“Have Ensign Krause plot a course bordering along the Romulan Neutral Zone, Miss Etan. We will need to set out shortly after I speak with ensign Puhr. There are a lot of colonies out there, in diverse need of aid.” The tension on the bridge might have been palpable, but the call to order was clear. There was an undercurrent of compassion in the cantankerous doctor’s observation. “We have a lot of work to do. Have the helm set a course for the former Romulan Neutral Zone. Let’s do Captain Maxwell proud.”

“I am already plotting the course as directed, sir.” There was a twang to Ensign Krause words that Ensign Kurios could not place. “We are already due to deliver construction supplies to a number of smaller colonies, and there have been some reports of pirate activity in former RSE space. With your permission, I will confirm our flight path and stand by as soon as you have decided we are ready to be properly underway, sir.” The promptness and friendly tone of the Trill at the conn, though business-like, stood in stark contrast to Kurios’ own tones. 

“Understood, Mister Krause. Go ahead and plot the course. Keep a particular out for any unusual activity. We want this first run to be completely by the books, of course.”

“Of course, sir.” The subordinate Trill’s hands moved over the conn with a fluid grace that only came from experience and confidence. “The course will be standing by shortly, ready for your command.” Krause was no green cadet.

Cimozjen Kurios walked back slowly towards the back of the small bridge, sinking into thought. Despite the small command, despite the small ship, despite their small part in the greater mission the crew was capable. Hopefully, Ensign Kurios would prove a capable command officer, worthy of this crew.  Though his posting had changed, he slowly realized that his mission had not. 

This was a new mission for the crew, but this was an much older posting for Doctor Kurios. The biggest change now were his patients. The old adage, the guiding principle of his occupation was “do no harm.” Now that his patients included a large swathe of Romulan space, he was going to have to tread carefully.

USS Thyanis Ready Room

“Cadet.” Kurios lifted his mug in greeting as he studied the PADD on his desk.

“Good morning, sir.” The Romulan gave a nod before placing her own PADD upon the desk in front of her. “I have reports from engineering and from the helmsman for you to sign off on, sir.”

The Trill officer took a deep and long drink from his mug. “Can I get you anything? The replicator makes a pretty decent raktajino, and there is a surprising number of teas as well.”

“Sir?”

Cimojzen Kurios placed the cup down with a loud clack. “As you have said in the past, we have a small crew. You, meanwhile, have been pacing around the deck like an especially nervous acturian dog-bird. That is a species, you will note, that are quite renowned for their rather chaotic nature. Which means,” he motioned to the PADD, “either you have some very good news or some very bad news. Moreover, I deduced from your typically shining expression that you have some very, very bad news. Am I correct, cadet?”

“Ensign Puhr already discovered a leak in engineering, sir. She and a small team of engineers are working to resolve the problem.”

“And yet, you are sitting in my office, instead of shuffling off to file more reports, to hassle the engineering team, or finding additional ways to thrill and excite the crew.”

The Cadet stared at her Trill Commander in disbelief. The man gave her a cocksure smile, but there was little warmth in his eyes. The ensign’s eyes seemed to pierce through Etan as she struggled with her emotions. This ship and this posting had been somewhat different than she had expected. While she had been more than capable in her previous position dealing in Logistics, she was out of sorts here. She had never met a commissioned officer as frustrating as the man she found herself serving below now. On Starbase Bravo, her expectations were quite plain, and she was allowed to do her work in peace.

It didn’t appear that Ensign Kurios worked that way, however.

She had already seen how he regarded their officer on the conn. Their sickbay was manned primarily by an old EMH Mark 1, and their engineering officer already seemed like she was on the knife’s edge of having a panic attack. The ship had been upkept, and yet there was a leak in main engineering that was dosing their team with a slow but steady stream of radiation.

Between the Trill at the helm, the Trill in command, herself, the Andorian Engineer they comprised already a fifth of the crew. Yet, Etan was already finding herself flustered and frustrated with so small a crew.

“We need to find the source of the leak in engineering. We have already been getting hails from Romulans. Our engineer looks like she is already running on far less sleep than she should be and my direct commanding officer is treating me like an idiot.” The words spilled out unbidden. “We are supposed to be out here in the former Neutral Zone and the territories of the Romulan Star Empire and yet-”

“I expect you to do your job.” Ensign Kurios’ tone was flat. There was no yield, nor kindness in his tone. “You hand me the reports, you ensure the crew follow their orders and you handle the logistics. It is no different than being on a starbase, cadet.” The Trill intertwined his fingers as he leaned forward. “Where is the problem here?”

“I come to you awaiting further orders, sir.”

“I am not the one giving out orders! Captain Maxwell and the officials at Starfleet are the ones giving out the orders. The same orders that get handed down the chain of command. The same orders that we have been following. We set down on a colony, we drop off supplies and engage in trade. If necessary, we start providing medical assistance. This isn’t some movie where the CO drops into the fray with the rest of the landing party, cadet. This isn’t some action-adventure holoprogram. We all have jobs to do.”

“This isn’t quite what I had expected to be doing, sir.”

“Well, given I had expected to be treating patients on a starbase, this is a bit new to all of us. If you need to come up to my office to tell you when you are acting like an idiot, I can do that. Until then, you can keep doing the job that you were commissioned to do.” The Trill waved his PADD in the air. “You are doing fine at your job so far. We have only had a couple encounters with some rowdy ne’er-do-wells in the old Neutral Zone. We’ve had no threats to colonies, no withering diseases, no spatial anomalies, or even any conventional issues like logistics or illness on board. So sit down. There will be plenty of time to panic, later.” 

Walking over to the replicator, Cimozjen Kurios punched in an order. The first part was another double-shot of raktajino for himself, and the second was a piping cup of Tarkalean tea for his second in command. As the drinks materialized, the Trill spoke again. “You have been doing fine, Cadet. We haven’t been out here for a week already, and you are getting a bit stir crazy. You need to take some time. Read a book, visit the holodeck, or even just go and take a nap.” The ensign walked over, clutching a mug in both hands and offering one of them to the Romulan. “You are constantly on edge. Give yourself a break. Hell, I can make it an order if I need to.”

The Romulan stared at her commanding officer with uncertainty in her eyes. On one hand, he was as seemingly crass as ever for a member of Starfleet, but on the other hand there were these little kindnesses. This man puzzled her more and more with each day. “What do I do with Puhr, then?”

“Let her do her job. Being out in an uncertain section of space like this always makes me a bit jumpy. The last thing I need is my first officer making me even more nervous. Take some time to mingle and connect with the rest of the crew. Give yourself a break. You are aboard a Raven-class vessel, not helping to pilot the flagship of the fleet.”

Cadet Etan considered his words for several moments before she gave a nod. “I will try to do so, sir.” Turning towards the door, the Romulan cadet’s mind was already working. Like her posting on this ship, she still had a lot to get used to.

The door chimed. Ensign Kurios looked up, drawing a breath slowly through his nose before placing his PADD on the desk. He did not even bother to look at the door. “Enter.”

The door opened to reveal the usually stiff form of his Romulan second in command. The other ensign looked between her commanding officer and the PADD before him. “I am sorry sir, was I interrupting something?”

“I was just reviewing a particular riveting account. It’s really kind of an old earth thing. Tale as old as time. She’s an engineer working in the bowels of an Constitution Class, he’s a strapping, recently promoted Tactical officer with a dark past. She spends all this time working the innards of a ship, but now can she put aside her job to learn to plumb the innards of the human heart?” The captain looked wistfully off into the middle distance before seeming to snap back to the moment. “I could lend you the PADD later, if you like.” He gave her a rare smile, his tone flat.

The ship’s executive officer looked between the PADD and her captain. “You are reading a romance novel?” 

“Oh well, you know, there are just so many things to focus on at one point.” The mocking tone built with each word before returning to a near deadpan. “I find little bits of joy where I can.”

“Yes.” Etan struggled to restrain her reaction, but an impulsive glance from the PADD she was holding and her captain served to betray her. There was some mirth evident in the Trill’s eyes. Shaking her head very slightly, the executive officer handed over the PADD as though she had noticed nothing. “I have some reports from engineering in regards to a slow leak from the warp core. Ensign Puhr has been unable to resolve it and is requesting an extra shift from the other engineers.

“Granted.” Kurios looked at the PADD’s surface, scrolling down as he examined the contents. “Let the ensign know that I expect the issue to be resolved by 0600 ship time tomorrow. What else do we have?”

“I have been reviewing the intelligence provided by Task Force 93 command. There are several Romulan colonies that are dotted around our intended path of travel. I have them noted with a small dossier on each for you to review at your leisure, of course. The colonies designated Rho Omega, a settlement in the Orian Beta Phi system, and a stop near the Rho Gamma Psi  system are among the earliest on our itinerary. Issues have ranged from simple supply drops and trade to a few issues more suited to one of your particular expertise, sir.”

“People need a kind soul like myself to show them the bright side of life?” The mirth was back for a moment.

“Some of these people need a doctor.” Etan tilted her head to the side, looking the Trill over. “Isn’t that why your people go into medical practice? Isn’t your purpose to heal the body?”

Kurios waved a hand in the air, deflecting the question. “So, have you been in contact with some of the locals, ensign?”

“A few passing ships have hailed us, but little has been of particular note so far. Task Force Intelligence has informed us that there has been some communications about a retrovirus outbreak in the area. It seems particularly virulent among Romulan populations,” Etan paused, “but even some of the Orion ships have been giving Romulan colonies a wider berth than normal.”

“Are you concerned about your own susceptibility?” The Trill’s eyes narrowed as he watched his second in command.

“Sir?” Etan could hear the confusion in her own voice. She paused for several moments. “Even with a first generation EMH on board, we are better equipped than some of these colonies and places in their current state, sir.”

“Sometimes things aren’t as simple as they seem.” Kurios leaned back in his chair. “Even old earth history is filled with some accounts of terrible damage being done by viral infections. Sometimes even our most trusted safeguards were not sufficient to prevent a seasonal permutation from ravaging a population. It is an eternal struggle.”

The Romulan officer thought she saw a wistful twinkle in the Trill’s eyes. That couldn’t be right. “What do you mean by that exactly, sir?” 

“The medical field is always plagued with problems, always being challenged. There is always something to resolve, something to puzzle out. As often as it seems we demolished disease on Earth, the Federation still faces medical emergencies with a nearly frightening regularity.” That odd twinkle was back again. “There is always something to puzzle out.”

“Yes, sir.” Etan let the silence stretch out for several moments. “If you can approve our plotted course, and review the departmental reports, I have one other issue to bring to your attention.” Etan continued, even as Kurios thumbed through several reports. It had taken a few days, but she had learned there was a certain irreverence for protocol demonstrated by the doctor as regularly as some sentients ate. It was of little wonder he had so long remained an Ensign.

“While I was in contact with one of the ships leaving the Kappa Rho colony nearby. They seemed very interested when they realized that I was a Romulan, sir.” There was a pause in her commanding officer’s movements. He was mildly interested now. “They implied they were local, even though most local ships are captained by Romulans. These Orion were leaving the planet, claiming to be a trader. They seemed very interested in knowing what we were bringing to the surface. They seemed to imply we should leave more on the surface. The big Orion on the other end of the transmission even implied that the system would become more dangerous if we didn’t leave something extra for the people of Kappa Rho.”

“You are sure he wasn’t local?” The captain was no longer scrolling, even if he was looking at the PADD.

“I am pretty confident, sir.” The Romulan raised an eyebrow. “In fact, it was almost implied that we would be taking up some side in a conflict that resides outside of our jurisdiction. Should we report this incident to Captain Maxwell and Fourth Fleet Command? I don’t believe that Starfleet would want us to get tied up in a local conflict.”

Cimozjen Kurios put the PADD down and stepped from behind his desk over to the viewing window. He stared out into the stars. This continued for several minutes, to the point that the Romulan ensign began to wonder if her captain had forgotten to dismiss her. Finally, he turned around and locked eyes with Etan. “Do what you feel you need to with regard to Maxwell. You can draft a report and send it off. I will sign off on that report.  I will also sign the departmental reports so I can get back to my story. If the situation with the locals or the non-Starfleet ships changes, report to me. If there is nothing else you are dismissed, Ensign.”

As Etan turned around and exited the small ready room that her captain had fashioned for himself, she began to ponder on what had just happened. She was starting to get little glances into her captain, but each encounter seemed almost manufactured to confuse or frustrate her. It was a wonder that this Trill had ever left Earth, let alone get assigned to command anything even as small as a Raven-class. For the moment, however, she had the authorization that she needed. She still had a lot of work to do negotiating with the colonists of the Rho Kappa colony without having to worry about making her captain like her.

“We are on approach to Rho Omega II, sir.” The Trill helmsman paused, looking back from his console towards his captain. It wasn’t as though the bridge, if it truly warranted the name, were all that large to begin with. There was little room to maneuver, and really most of the stations were little more than small consoles that fulfilled their assigned purposes. This particular Raven class was a largely standard configuration in that manner. The ambience of the ship seemed remarkably sterile, however. It seemed to match the personality of its captain, almost spartan and to the point. At least that is how it was at first glance.

“Come to a halt, helm.” Though they were both Trill, there was a distinct harshness to his superior officer’s tones. This harsh tone did cause Ensign Krause to recoil slightly at his station. The captain of the Thyanis seemed utterly uninterested in being cordial with his more-junior officers. “And let’s get the planet up on the view screen.”

“Aye sir.” The helmsman tapped a few keys at his station.The image of a planet floating in the blackness of space materialized on the view screen. The bridge of the small Raven-class was no louder than usual, but it felt like there was something tangible in the air. As the Thyanis had met with various factions in the former Neutral Zone, more rumors of trouble had reached Kurios’ ears. 

Whereas once, the doctor had been free to prescribe a solution to an illness, he found the seat of a captain to be a greater millstone then his practice had ever been. Yes, he was traveling across the stars in the Beta Quadrant, but so much of his time was spent on the bridge. So much of Doctor Kurios’ time was spent as an administrator, as a supervisor, stuck on the bridge while his junior officers got to see the surface of worlds. Maybe it was just a consequence of his newfound position. He had never completely acclimated to private practice, either.

He knew he was no diplomat. He was closer to an engineer than he was a negotiator. The human body, or the Vulcan, or the Romulan, could be finely tuned machines. All sentient beings could receive such service, with the right knowledge. That knowledge had never helped his bedside manner, however. That is a place where his bridge officers outperformed him. Kurios had to admit, if only to himself, that Etan was far better skilled at bringing the disparate factors in a situation to parse out a solution. Cimozjen had pissed off a lot of people in Starfleet over the years. Being willing to break rules in order to heal bodies? That was not the sort of thing that the Federation’s finest tended to appreciate, let alone tolerate. 

“The Rho Omega Colony has been due for a visit for a while, captain.” The Romulan tactical officer pulled the medical officer from his uncomfortable reverie with her words. “Traders have made mention of a viral infection spreading across the surface. It has left several settlements spread out beyond the colony to an unknown fate.”

“Is this,” Kurios waved a hand in the direction of the view screen, “disease localized, or is it related to the virus that has been concerning the other colonies?”

“Unknown, sir.” Etan’s tone was apologetic. “While there has been a lot of talk amongst local powers, it has led to several colonies understandably choosing to isolate themselves. This has slowed the flow of data between the inhabitants of the former Neutral Zone. If you like, we will send down a team to investigate and secure the surface before we put boots on the ground. You won’t even have to leave the bridge, sir.”

Cimozjen stared hard at his second in command. He could feel the tension in his jaw as his teeth ground together. There was always a risk, and while he knew that transporters were supposed to screen out disease. The trouble with the biofilters, which had caused trouble for more than one Starfleet vessel over the years, was they could only catch diseases or viruses that had been cataloged by the Federation. He could very well be sending Etan in blind, and the biofilters would only help if the team was transported down.

That said, Lieutenant Kurios would be just as much at risk as anyone. He had the medical expertise that would be needed if things went sideways. She was the better asset in this situation, because he was only more valuable to their success if things went sideways. In a way, that stung.

Instead of letting that show on his face, Kurios flashed Etan a smile that never reached his eyes. “Well, it is time that we give you a chance to demonstrate the skills that earned you those rank pips, Lieutenant Junior Grade Etan.”

“Sir.” The word came out as more of a question. The single word was accompanied with a flash of confusion and a flash of hurt flashed across her face.

“I am sure that you have been absolutely chomping at the bit to get your feet wet in a ground mission all on your own. I am saying that I approve. Select the members of your away team. I will stand by on the bridge, catch up one some paperwork, maybe even find out if Rodrigo and Maria work out in the end.”

Etan opened her mouth to comment, but she caught the glance that confirmed what she had already started to suspect. She could not trust the sincerity of a word from her captain. Every statement, every turn of phrase, every off observation seemed to be constructed to either test or frustrate her. Making another passing reference to the trashy ‘romance’ novels she had caught him indulging in was just another test. Or maybe, her captain was just messing with her expectations for his own entertainment. Either way, she would not rise to bait.

“We will load the shuttle craft and depart for the surface, as per your orders.” Etan stepped back, not breaking her gaze as she did so. “Unless there is anything else?”

Cimozjen Kurios looked off to the side, his expression nebulous and unreadable. He could have been impressed or frustrated, pensive or bored, but after a moment he shook his head and he took on an expression of complete nonchalance. “I can’t think of anything else for the moment. If I think of anything, I will contact you on your combadge. For now, you are dismissed.”

His first officer did not seem as phased as he had first expected. This pleased Cimozjen as he watched her practically march her way off the bridge, off to her assigned task. The reality of the situation was a bit more complicated than he had time or gumption to explain to her. The galaxy could be cold and unfeeling and coddling his crew wasn’t going to save lives. Etan could talk to people, she could empathize, she could relate to others in ways that he just wasn’t interested in doing. Everyone had a role to play here. Hopefully, Etan’s would mold her into the kind of officer that she needed to be. 

“Incoming hail from the surface, captain.” The voice of Krause sounded oddly loud in his commanding officer’s ears. “The colony is contacting the ship.”

“Put it through.”

The screen resolved into the familiar features of a Romulan woman. Though she was very different in appearance from the first officer, she bore the same slightly-stiff manner in things as simple as her stance. The individual gave a slight nod in a show of deference, or mutual respect. Honestly, Kurios had some trouble telling when it came to either Romulans or Vulcans. “Captain of the USS Thyanis?” “We have come as agreed.”

“Indeed.” There was a long pause. “You are late.” The romulan motioned to something off screen. “Our people are sick, our children are hungry, we are beset on all sides by enemies and you are late.”

“We brought some farming equipment and some replicators to help ease the shortages. We are currently putting the equipment together and sending it down via shuttle craft. I will be sending an officer down to the rendezvous point to meet up with your people.”

“Is this-” the second word was punctuated by a rise in volume, “how you decide to treat us?” The Romulan was unusually agitated. A vein visibility pulsed just above the left eye. Now, this was getting a bit interesting, Kurios mused. “First, you did not show up when we needed you to and now you are sending down a lackey instead of answering for yourself?”

“First Officer Etan has,” the captain gave what he hoped was an artistic flourish, “the greatest confidence from her captain. She is my personal representative for matters that extend beyond my particular disciplines. I am no diplomat.”

“Clearly.” The romulan’s temper seemed to cool a bit, before she smoothed out her clothes and again assumed the pretentious air that Kurios had observed in so many romulans he had encountered over the years. “We await the arrival of your shuttle on the surface.” The view screen cycled away from the view of the surface, and back to a view of the planet below.

“Hopefully, that is as interesting as this day gets.” The doctor shook his head as he considered the floating orb designated Rho Omega.

USS Thyanis

tranporter room  

“So, let’s just assume that I am confused.” The dark-haired officer waved a hand in the air with a faux whimsical air. “How do you expect this to go down?” The man glanced around the transporter room. Next, he looked around at each of his fellows in turn, between Etan, the Andorian engineer whose name he had already forgotten, the pair of security officers, and the transporter operator. “I mean, call me a tired cliche, but this feels like a really bad idea.”

The Romulan officer sighed at him. Etan’s eyes narrowed as she motioned at the transporter pad. “If the contagion is infectious, as we have been led to believe, the transporter buffer gives the ship a bit of a safety net. That way, if the virus does something fascinating like reanimating dead tissue, perhaps we wouldn’t lose the whole-” The last word trailed off as Etan caught the glance of unease on science officer Stahoes’ face. “What?”

Stahoes gave an appreciative whistle. “Not that used to hearing that kind of a descriptor from our fine first officer.” Etan felt the muscle in her face tighten, but she managed to suppress a grimace at the backhanded comment.

“I was of course speaking of a worst case scenario.” The Romulan straightened her uniform very deliberately and very slightly. “We have no expectations of animated or necrotic tissue on this mission at this juncture.” Anger flashed in both her face and in her voice.

Stahoes’ tutted. “You don’t hear it do you?” He shook his head as he considered his superior officer. “You are seriously starting to sound a bit more like our oh-so-beloved captain. I guess the two of you must be getting on a bit a better than before, am I right?” He chuckled as he saw the mix of emotions on Etan’s normally stalwart face. “Here I thought that Romulans could be as cool and straight-laced as Vulcans.”

“Not all of us.” Eyes narrowed in irritation. “It is a common misconception.”

“One Romulan in particular, though.” The jovial tone was joined with a wink.

“If I may ask,” the Andorian raised both a hand and an eyebrow, “what is the expected course of events if things do not go awry? I assume you already have mission parameters beyond the argument we are currently conducting beside the transporter pad.” This comment was punctuated with a pointed glare at the mouthy science officer.

Etan steadied herself, both physically and emotionally, taking a breath before she continued.”Our core mission is much the same as it has been. Trade has been rough, so of course we are dropping supplies: farming equipment and tools. Given the frequency of piracy, and a veiled threat already delivered to the USS Thyanis, we need to be on our toes.” The Romulan motioned to the Security officers. “Beyond the supply drop, we have been authorized to assess the sickness, and to synthesize a cure if at all possible.” Etan peered at the red-uniformed security officers. “Though, we are going to resist engaging the inhabitants if at all possible.”

“Those poor locals.” Stahoes clicked his tongue thoughtfully, shaking his head with an exaggerated, disapproving frown plastered on his face. 

Eyes narrowed again. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I just mean,” the words came out slowly, painfully as the science officer carefully enunciated each syllable, “it has to stink. If you have a romulan beaming down with the team, to help no less, who is willing to turn around the moment that trouble might decide to rear its ugly head. Besides,” the man smirked, “I highly doubt we will get much in the way of warnings before things might go sideways.” 

“Are you absolutely determined to assess this mission in the most grim terms possible?” There was more than a trace of anger in the words. “Or are you specifically doing this to specifically antagonize me?” Etan raised an eyebrow as the human opened his mouth. “I would also be remiss if I didn’t remind you that I do possess the authority to remand you to sickbay. I can take another officer. Take measure before you continue, mister Stahoes.” This caused Bentre to pause, muttering something to himself. To Etan’s relief, he chose not to press the issue, however.

“So, can I ask something before we transport down?” the Andorian engineer broke the silence, waving at the other Starfleet officers encouragingly. “Do we have any more intelligence of note on our transport site?”

“A small village, situated by a lake, inhabited primarily by Romulans. Some are locally based but more than a few are displaced civilians.” There was some pain in the first officer’s words. “Many are civilians. There are also several Orians, but again I ask we kindly not antagonize any people. This is supposed to be a mission of mercy, so stow your phasers. Try to resist any urges to engage in cowboy-esque heroics before we can properly analyze the situation.” She glared at the security officers and the science officer. “If you can help it.” 

“So,” one of the security officers spoke, “to be clear, are you sure you want us to, in your own words, ‘stow’ our phasers when we first beam down? Standing Security orders and procedures call for us to secure the site, first thing. We typically have phasers in hand when we do so. That could be a little more difficult, if you don’t mind my saying so. So I must reiterate, are you sure?”

The first officer mulled over the point. The threat to the away team was well worth consideration. The chance that a punch of pushy pirates would really dare to square up against a Starfleet vessel were statistically rather slim. There was a greater threat, she worried.

Starfleet is not a military. They were not a military unit. Even so, the USS Thyanis was not a border-security vessel. The Raven-class was a small configuration that was quite limited in its capabilities. She did not want to sow distrust from people in need. If relations turned sour, there would be limited recourse for the crew in the case of disaster.

“Mam?” Blue antennae twitched expectantly. Concerned eyes met Etan. The moment brought the romulan out of the depths of her thoughts. The situation returned to focus. “Do you want us to be ready with phasers, just in case?”

“Mister Matthews and Mister Thompson will-” Etan wrestled with her uncertainty, “they will stow their weapons just long enough for us to make initial contact. I don’t want us to spook the citizens.”

“I would advise-” Stahoes started.

“Advisement noted and logged. “Etan looked around the room as she spoke. “I feel certain that we can survive negotiations for five minutes without having to resort to holding innocent persons at gunpoint.” While she still had her doubts, this was her mission. This was her responsibility. This was her time to put her foot down. “We cannot expect everyone to accept that which is offered only under the threat of violence. It does matter if that threat of violence is real or perceived. It doesn’t change our responsibility. We will establish a medical triage tent, we will deliver supplies and if all goes as intended we will be back aboard the ship and drinking together in the mess hall within the hour.”

Stahoes was irritated. Puhr was confused. The security officers kept glancing between each other and the first officer, clearly uneasy. The transporter operator was, by contrast, unphased and waiting expectantly.

“Four to beam down to Bararius Camp, coordinates series designated Oscar Charlie 12132 Etan.”

“Let’s hope I do not regret this.” Stahoes moaned softly to himself as the transporter beam started to deconstruct the officers.

Surface of Rho Omega II  

Bararius Camp outskirts

The sensation of being transported was always a bit annoying. Bentre Stahoes possessed an extensive collection of classical, old earth music back on the ship. It was almost like having one of his ancient vinyl records skip. The vinyl was rarely played, were jealously kept, and meticulously cared for. He tried to keep them as perfect as possible. Scratches could still occur, however.

The skip in reality was similar to the vinyl records. It left him with a feeling of having missed something. As time from the point of the skip in time passed, Stahoes could not brush aside his irritation. The away team had beamed down in a clearing just outside of the settlement, as intended. They were not greeted by the thankful residents they had hoped for, or the wicked Orions that Bentre had feared.  Rather, a number of rough-looking Romulans greeted them. The disruptors held by each of them both dispelled any doubt at to their unkind intentions for the the whole of the team.

Stahoes bit his tongue. He was used to doing that. Normally, he was quite free to speak his mind. He even briefly considered some biting words thrown back at the haughty romulan first officer for such a failure of judgment.

She had been so quick to prove she was in charge, she had made a serious blunder. The words ‘I told you so’ or some variant leapt to mind to drive this point home, in case she had not yet grasped it.

“On your feet, Federations!” The Romulans pointed their weapons in an uneven spread across the away team and the moment seemed to freeze.

In the middle of this camp were a jumbled mess of prefabricated buildings. None of them were close enough to offer any sort of cover. They could not give any chance of escape. Their options were limited. There was no chance of respite. There was little chance their team would escape unscathed.

“Drop the weapons!” One of their captors jerked the barrel of his disruptor up to bear on the older security officer. Stahoes was pretty sure it was Thompson. The older man froze, slowly lowering his hand back to his side, hands well forward of his phaser.

“We don’t need any further trouble, friend.”

“As long as you do what you are told, there won’t be any trouble!” The tallest of the Romulans stepped up. “You have replicators, so it isn’t even as though some extra supplies or materials are that big of a deal to Starfleet. Am I wrong?”

Before she could apologize, before anyone else could talk, the younger security officer broke rank. He stepped backward, and before Etan could react he had his phaser in hand and was yelling something. The call to stand down was barely on the first officer’s lips. In one smooth action, two of the Romulans covering the away team turned in unison and fired.

“Thompson!” There was a terrible sadness in his voice as the older security officer dropped to his knees.

Oh, Bentre realized, so the older man was Matthews. It was odd, he reflected, how the mind tended to compartmentalize in moments of great stress. 

The Romulans returned their sweep of the room more evenly now. There were only four bodies to cover, each had at least one other Romulan at his side as support.

Two to one odds were not good odds.

“We have enough supplies for everyone.” Etan kept her tones even and her hands at her sides, but there was a quaver in her voice. “We can help you to establish seeds and in time even trade can return. You can grow beyond simple subsistence.”

“Why should we not take what we can, Federation?” One of the Romulans spoke this time, but he lacked the edge of the others. “That is what the others do. That is what the criminals do to us. They take what they want. They extort what they have not earned. Why should we struggle to produce while others like the Orians and our fellow romulans alike steal from us? Our own sick people grow sicker as your people stand by twiddling your thumbs. They suffer from neglect, from abuse, from a lack of nutrition while others steal food from our children’s plates.”

Stahoes considered his own phaser, if but for a moment. He considered every angle. He briefly considered leaving the situation in Etan’s hands, but his own curiosity and concern were growing. “Did this start before, or after the theft started to ravage your settlement?”

The Romulan frowned. “Before, it seemed to be but a transitory illness. It was limited in scope, but in time people grew restless. As the illness grew in scope, the people became listless and the production of food reduced to almost half its former yield. Crops were left to rot in the field, as a malaise gripped our families and neighbors. It got worse though, as the pirates came down like parasites. One of your ships had dropped by to check on us, to drop off supplies. Your officers promised succor but inadvertently you delivered only further suffering.”

“Wait,” Puhr tilted her head as she broke her silence, “how many Orion are on this planet? More specifically, how many pirates are accosting you?”

“A dozen or so,” he moaned, “but it doesn’t matter. They have the advantage. They have our children. With that, they have our future. If we resist, they have promised nothing good will come of our kin. They have the advantage.”

“Where?” Etan chopped the air dramatically.

“Several kilometers north, there is a camp.” 

“How does holding us help you? Etan locked eyes. “How do you expect us to fix the situation? Or do you hope to take your own advantage?”

“The Orions are the ones that you should ask if you want to fix things.” His tone was sorrowful. “I just want my kids back. What would you do? If they detect your landing, or if they see your people leaving orbit without challenge, my kids are as good as dead. I want to hold my sons and my daughter again. If your life is the cost asked of me, I am willing.” The Romulan father’s eyes were filled with a mix of fear, of disgust, and even of pity for the Starfleet officers. “I must protect my kids.”

Etan looked back at her fellow romulan with a bit of pity. “We just cannot.” There was a wetness in her eyes she had not felt before. “Even without the Prime Directive being at issue in this situation, we are not encouraged to interfere in local politics. We are not a military. We don’t have a means of rooting out the Orion without risking casualties to one group or many of those involved. We are not a ship of war. Starfleet is not a military.”

Another of the Romulan captors laughed aloud at this. It was a cold, bitter bark of a laugh. “I have heard stories, Federation. I have heard of Wolf 359.” he jabbed a finger in the first officer’s direction. “I have heard of the Dominion War.”

“Those were conflict of,” she paused, “unpleasant necessity.” Etan did not break the intense gaze. “As for our ship? We are a science vessel. We have labs. We can help to cure illness, but we cannot drive away your Orion. We cannot disable them without bigger guns. It isn’t like we can just flash down with the transporter. We do not have coordinates. We do not have-”

“Sir?” Puhr’s antennae were twitching again. “Wait, why can’t we flash them, then?” Andorian eyes flashed. “If we charge our deflector dish with flashes of gamma radiation at a regular rate, we can create a feedback loop that will trace along the hull. If we focus a flash, a burst, from our scanners aimed at the Orion camp, we might be able to cause enough bioneural feedback to create a perception cascade severe enough to render the whole camp of Orion unconscious!”

“Would that work?” Stahoes looked between the engineering and tactical officers. “Would that put the children at risk?”

“I wouldn’t be on board to supervise the operation. We would be giving orders over the commlink, so we don’t raise the suspicions of the camp. There is still a more than zero chance the children could come to harm. They should be able to make a full recovery, I think.”

“There is still a risk.” The Romulan father shook his head.

“No more, I would estimate,” Stahoes leaned forward, “than resetting a computer terminal. The chances of damage are minimal. Once the Orion are disabled, you should be able to rush in, to liberate your offspring and ensure their safety.”

“If,” Etan waved a hand between the human and Romulan glaring at one another. “If it soothes you any more, we will remain on the surface for several days. We will ensure that we are able to give your people the care they need. We will do our best to treat any side effects. We will do our best to minimize casualties.”

“That is still not a real guarantee our kids will be unharmed.”

“Well, the trouble is,” Kika Puhr stared out into the trees, “our commanding officer is not as cool-headed about these kinds of things.” The Andorian motioned at Etan. “She is willing to give you a chance to explain yourself, but our captain can be less discerning. Or he would bring down a less discerning security team to discover what became of us and might liberate us without a chance to explain your plight.” Stahoes saw Puhr grimace. “He is more concerned with solving problems, I fear, than alternative solutions. Children could be caught in the crossfire.”

“Really? You try to sway us with a threat?”

Etan grew so quiet that Stahoes had a problem hearing her. “It is not a threat. He can just be that hard to predict. She is giving you a fair warning. No threat is intended, and no deception is intended. If anything, I think she is trying to force my hand.”

USS Thyanis  

Captain’s Quarters  

Stardate 77731.4839  

“So, what do you expect me to report to Starfleet Command?” The fury in Kurios’ voice was at a fever pitch. “You mobilized the locals, gave them orbital support that could end up blowing up in their face and burnt three days of our schedule seeing through an unauthorized guerilla operation. The cre to their retrovirus only took a few hours to resolve. Not even two hours to research. Another to synthesize. Another two hours to distribute.”“We also provided vitamin shots. These pirates had been weakening the populace through attrition. We could not just stand by once we knew what was happening!”

Kurios laughed mockingly. “You still do not understand, first officer! You don’t stand by. You report to me. You tell us the situation. We coordinate with the brass. We get support from Starfleet if necessary. Or we get told to mind our own business. If we create too much trouble, then the brass will recall us, and your beloved locals don’t get their help. What if the Orion had gotten backup while you were mucking about?”“That was a measured risk, sir.”

“So why didn’t you follow the chain of command?”

“Because. It was the right thing to do. There were civilians at risk. I did what I felt was right. I followed my gut.”

Kurios stared at the PADD in his hands. He fiddled with the device, mulling over the events. He was very quiet for a long time.

“I will see what I can do.” The Trill nodded. “I’ll figure out something to tell Command.” He drew a deep breath. “Some people at the top probably don’t care for me much anyhow. I will just take the heat.”

“Sir?”

“You have a good instinct. You can’t let it be strung up so long by procedure, though. Not when lives are at stake. I know it isn’t by the book but-” Kurios trailed off as he shuffled uncomfortably. Silence passed a few moments as he punched some notes into the PADD in his hands. “For now, you are dismissed. We will discuss how to resolve the lost time in our schedule bright and early at 0530. In the meantime, you are dismissed to go and grab some rest.” He poked at the PADD’s surface as he grimaced. “I remember my first away mission. I didn’t sleep right for a week, and you will be useless on the bridge tomorrow if you don’t take care of yourself.”

D’mhiri Etan looked hard across the desk at her captain. She was surprised. She had expected to be dressed down, told that she was an idiot and subjected to other disgraces. If her captain had felt particularly grumpy, it might have even been conducted on the bridge. At least, that had been her expectation given the irreverent and bombastic way that he conducted himself. She had expected reprimand, but instead had found him being almost charitable.

It felt unreal.

“Hey, hey,” Kurios was waving his hand in the air, “you can go stare out into space on your own time! I have to do some work on the upcoming transfer. Get out of here already! You are relieved, until 0640, remember? Damn it, I will make it an order if I need to.”Etan walked out the captain’s quarters with muttered apologies. She was halfway back to her quarters, still mulling over the events of the day. Something else kept tickling the back of her mind, before it finally resolved. She stared back in the direction of Kurios’ quarters. What did he mean ‘transfer orders’?