“… and this really is the perfect opportunity.”

To say that Henry Mitchell could act like a child in times of hardship was perhaps a bit of an exaggeration, but in this one instance it was almost believable. In fact, if he waved his arms around any more than he was, he’d probably look like a deranged psychopath and be admitted to sickbay for medical examination.

“Come on boss,” the young pilot pleaded with his superior as he followed the Trill Commander along the corridor and towards holodeck one, “there has to be some kind of mistake?” He was trying desperately to take advantage of the fact that he had previously served with the Commander aboard the Adriatic, but failing miserably in the process.

“No mistake this time,” Commander Giarvar Kauhn shook his head in mild amusement at the irritation and discomfort the flyboy felt about the situation he was in. “The Commandant was pretty clear,” the Trill reminded the younger man, taking great pleasure in doing so.

“Someone at the Academy fouled up and there was a miscalculation on your grade for the survival course. Now, if you don’t want to carry on as the flight operations chief here, that’s fine. I can send you back to the Academy and you can resit the course there,” the Trill warned his much younger colleague as he came to a halt, a stern expression on his spotted face. “Or, you can quit moaning and make the most of the opportunity they’ve given you and fix the mess here, with your colleagues,” a raised eyebrow accompanied the arm folding and suggested that he was far from amused at the bellyaching from the pilot.

“Ugh! Fine,” the flyboy pouted, leaning against the wall outside the main holodeck, “but surely the Captain will want to get underway soon? I’d hate to interfere with her plans,” the hope in the Terran’s voice was enough to cause the Intrepid’s XO to shake his head and turn to face the holodeck controls.

“Nice try,” Giarvar smirked, “but the Captain has indicated she plans for us to remain on station until you’ve done this test. Something about not being able to traverse the expanse without you,” the Trill lied in a bid to appease his much younger friend.

“Really? She said that?” the gullible pilot grinned, folding his arms across his chest. “I guess she’s right… I am the best pilot on the ship, afterall…”

“HEY!” a frustrated voice from nearby chastised the man in command red, frowning as she approached the two and slid to a halt.

“Teanne?” the flyboy looked confused, “what are you doing here?”

“Well, we’re not exactly going anywhere right now, so the Commander thought you could use a little help,” the beautiful brunette assistant in Henry’s department smiled, “though I don’t know what help I could be to the best pilot on the ship.”

The scolding was probably more painful than if it had been hot water poured from a kettle., but Henry felt the need to swiftly make recompense for his words. “I didn’t mean it,” he retorted swiftly, retracting his statement in earnest at the offer of assistance. If it meant he didn’t have to do this alone, he’d do anything.

“Ummhmm,” the Betazoid frowned, “you know I can tell when you are lying, right?”

“Of course,” Henry grinned, a bare faced lie if ever he had told one. “Alright Commander, I’ll do it. Let’s get it over with.”

Teanne and the Commander shared a look of mock exasperation with the flyboy, then the ship’s XO passed the flight operations chief the data PADD he had been clutching. “Here are the requirements and your situational briefing. I’ll be observing from holodeck two, so make sure you make it a good show…” the Commander grinned, slapping the younger man on the shoulder and striding away at speed.

Watching the XO stride away, the Flight Operations officer suddenly felt a wave of unease come over him.

“Don’t worry, Chief!” Teanne grinned as she made a move towards the holodeck entrance. “I’m sure whatever it is, the best pilot aboard can deal with it,” she added.

“Hey!” Henry grimaced as he gave chase, “I said I didn’t mean it…”

“Computer… initiate…”

Mitchell was forced to pause his command to the holodeck computer as the magnetic locks on the holodeck doors parted and the doors opened to reveal two more officers. Waltzing into the room in near lockstep, the two officers in operations gold waved at the Lieutenant on their approach.

“Hey there, Chief!” the tall Andorian male Ashrin Th’killen smiled as they came to a halt. “Leela and I were bored and heard about your little academy disaster, so I thought it would be a great idea to drag her down here and laugh at your misfortune together,” the cocky tactician grinned, folding his arms across his muscular chest.

“Actually,” Leela Bakshi, the Terran assistant engineer threw her hands up in protest, “I was perfectly happy in the mess hall.”

“Laugh all you like,” Henry smirked sarcastically, tapping the nearby control panel, “but you’re here now, so you’re involved. Computer,” he barked before either newcomer could protest, “initiate program.”

Leela turned and scowled at Ashrin and shook her head in disgust. This was not part of her plan for the rest of her off time.

At the behest of the flight controller, the holodeck grid swiftly disappeared and was replaced by the cramped cockpit of one of the familiar Type-12 shuttlecraft, with alarms beeping and controls flashing.

“Well, ain’t this cosy?!” Ashrin joked as the four officers sept into action. Udraa and her senior officer dove into the pilots’ chairs at the front of the cockpit while their yellow-shirted companions stood at the aft controls. Each tried to ascertain the developing situation they were faced with. And it was not looking good.

“We’ve got a distress beacon…” Udraa told from the co-pilots seat, “heading three-one-mark-two-one-one.”

“According to sensors, it’s the glaciated P-class planetoid… Olea,” Ashrin chimed in with his report. “There’s a Starfleet research outpost on the northern continent, but sensors are struggling to get any readings.”

“It’s the weather system down there,” Leela interrupted from the other side of the cabin, “there’s a storm front approaching the facility. Looking at the concentration down there, we’re going to struggle to get a probe down there, let alone a transporter signal or communications.”

“We’ll have to land and check it out. Teanne, set a course and engage at best possible speed.. Leela, monitor the weather front and let me know if anything changes. Ashrin, break out the supplies,” Henry directed as he sat back in his chair and picked up a data PADD to begin recording the details of the events.

It wasn’t long before the shuttlecraft began to descend into the planet’s atmosphere, only to be bumped and jostled by the trailing edge of the weather front.

“It’s only getting worse down there,” Leela declared, “we’re never going to be able to land close enough.”

“Visibility out there is shock…”

Out of nowhere, the shuttle and its occupants were tossed to starboard, computer consoles sparking and a gaseous substance spewing from the aft bulkhead.

Struggling back to his seat, the senior-most officer in the away team took over what limited controls he could muster and tried his best to steady the auxiliary craft. “We’re going down! Brace yourselves,” he called out to no one in particular, unable to even look around and ascertain if anyone else was alive. According to what functioning sensors remained, the ship had taken a sudden impact on the port side of her nose and had been sent into a spin towards the planet’s surface.

In mere moments, the shuttle nosedived into the planet’s surface before bouncing and sliding violently to a stop courtesy of a mountain rock face. For the time being at least, silence and darkness engulfed the cabin.

Crossing the threshold to holodeck two, a tall Vulcan woman in command red seemed to glide effortlessly into position next to her executive officer, who was so engrossed in what he was watching that he hadn’t even heard the Captain enter the room.

“Status report, Commander?” the Vulcan requested, coming to a halt beside her executive, hands clasped together behind her back.

“They’ve just crashed into the mountain pass,” Kauhn revealed, without so much as taking his eyes off the console he was observing. “They’ve been out for about five… wait, there’s movement…”

Inching closer to her executive officer, the Captain peered down at the console and began to watch with a great sense of interest.

Clambering to his feet somewhat awkwardly, Lieutenant Mitchell used the backrest of his chair to steady himself long enough to shake away the fuzziness he was feeling. When his eyes had focussed at last, he could see his colleagues stumbling to their feet.

“Power’s offline,” Leela winced through the pain she was feeling, leaning against the dead aft console for support.

“I’ve managed to find four coats and a medkit. Other than that, its phasers and food rations,” Ashrin frowned, dragging the belongings to the cockpit. “It’s almost as if someone wanted us to die out here,” his antennae bobbing at the obvious reference to the people who had planned the simulation.

“Well, I can’t get through to the Intrepid,” Udraa moaned as she joined the team in the aft compartment, “we’re on our own from here.”

With that, the three juniors looked towards the mission leader for guidance. Henry, to his credit, was already on with planning his next move. Looking at a tricorder he had managed to grab from the wall panel, he was busy determining a course of action.

“We’ve crashed into the bottom of a valley, about a day and a half walk from the outpost,” the flight controller reported, “since we can’t get in touch with the ship, and communications with the station were non-existent before that, we have no choice. Grab a coat, a phaser, and some rations each,” he instructed, picking up one of the cold weather coats.

“It’s time to get walking.”

Holodeck two had become a hive of activity as news of the ‘away team’’s perilous situation had spread across the ship. T’Prynn and her XO had been joined by several other members of the senior staff who had been off duty, with the Chief Medical Officer the last to arrive, carrying a number of hot beverages with him.

“What did I miss?” Josue asked as he handed out the cups of coffee to the gathered officers.

“According to the simulation chronometer, they’ve been walking for about eight hours,” Lieutenant Okan told, her gaze locked on the four figures fighting their way through the biting winds and swirling snow.

“Feels like I’ve been watching for eight hours…” Mayr Bellurr, the Terran-Klingon hybrid tactical officer frowned.

“Three hours, six minutes and fourteen seconds to be precise,” the Vulcan commander remarked, her trusty attention to detail failing to let her down yet again. “The simulation adapts to change their perception of time,” she added.

“Shush!” Giarvar barked, “they’re approaching the treeline.”

Trawling their way through the howling winds and the bitterly cold snow that encircled them, the away team had practically huddled together for warmth. Each had their hands on the person in front, ensuring they didn’t lose one another in the blizzard. It seemed like an eternity since they had last seen shelter (in the form of the shuttlecraft). But, just as all hope seemed lost, the flyboy narrowed his eyes and focused on something ahead of them. At first, it was unclear, but with each progressive step forward, he could make out a little more of what was to come.

“Treeline!” he hollered back at his team, willing them on with one last push to reach the threshold of safety. They were weak, struggling for breath and not having eaten in hours, but finally a sanctuary had presented itself in their hour of need.

Passing through the first trees, the team felt an instant relief from the blizzard they had come to know and hate. Snowfall had almost halved thanks to the canopy above, but what snow did make it through continued to pelt their bitterly cold skin. Only Ashrin felt any kind of comfort from the surroundings, but even to a native of Andor, the blizzard had been freezing.

Continuing on, and fighting their way through the forest, the team happened upon a clearing of sorts, made by fallen trees.

“Judging by the splinters protruding from the break point,” Leela began as the team come to a halt and composed themselves, “I’d wager something big has knocked these down.”

Henry stepped up and removed the glove on his right hand, carefully running his hand across the tree bark. “The lack of any rot on the wood suggests it happened recently.”

“Maybe it’s not safe to stay here?” the tension in her voice betrayed the anxiousness Teanne was feeling as she glanced around their surroundings, phaser gripped tightly in her palm.

“We have no choice,” Henry shook his head in response to his departmental colleague. “Ashrin, Teanne; gather some dry wood if you can. Leela, you and I will make a camp. We’ll start a fire and get some rest. You lot take the time to get something to eat and I’ll take first watch,” the Lieutenant instructed his junior colleagues.

Giving everyone something positive to focus on would be essential in the coming hours. He had to keep them going, keep them safe. Especially as they settled down for the night and he gladly watched over them. They were his priority, just as much as the people in the outpost were, if not more so.

Several hours later, a piercing shrill echoed its way through the forest clearing, startling all awake and causing them to sit bolt upright, including the Lieutenant, who had seemingly succumbed to exhaustion and got a few hours of rest himself.

“What was that?!” Teanne asked, grasping for her phaser, hands shaking in fear.

“No idea,” Henry remarked, grabbing for his tricorder. “I’m not detecting any life signs out there.”

“It’s possible that the indigenous of this world have adapted their lifesigns to be masked by the raging storm,” the Andorian tactical officer remarked, offering his words of wisdom to the group. It was enough to stir Henry on.

“We’re not far from the outpost, and the storm seems to be dying down. Sooner we can get there, sooner we can get off this rock,” he advised the team, reaching for the rest of his belongings. Soon, they were all on their feet, resuming their trek towards the outpost.

Indeed, it wasn’t long into their resumption of their journey that the snow slowed to a slight flurry, and the sun crept out from behind the clouds that had previously obscured it. With the rising temperature came the rising hope that the away team would locate the researchers and return them to the ship.

A blood spattered door with three large indentations that could only be described as some form of claw marks soon put paid to any hope the team might have had. Drawing their phasers from their holsters, the four Starfleet officers moved into a standard search pattern and formation. As the tactical officer on this particular mission, Ashrin Th’killen took the lead, followed closely by their team leader. Teanne followed the two men inside next, while Leela Bakshi pulled up the rear, making sure nothing took them by surprise from behind as they entered the dark facility.

An eerie sense of foreboding overcame the team with each step they took inside the seemingly abandoned facility. Their presence did nothing to wake the apparently dormant systems; no lighting activated, no security systems declared their presence. Nothing but the odd flicker of seemingly damaged consoles nearby.

With a wave of his phaser-wielding hand, the Lieutenant dispatched the group’s engineer to take a look at the facility systems, and then ordered his security officer and command counterpart to scout the nearby area. To say that he was anxious about the source of the bloody marks on the door was an understatement, but there were other matters that he had to consider, such as the…

“Lieutenant!” the Andorian security officer called out from behind a partial bulkhead, “you’re going to want to see this.”

Swiftly making his way across the floor of the facility, Henry exchanged glances with Leela, before motioning for her to stay where she was, and to stay on task. Rounding the bulkhead a few seconds later, the sight before him caused his breath to catch in his throat. Three lifeless, mutilated bodies, piled in a corner, illuminated by the Ensign’s light beacons.

“I think we found the researchers…”

Shredded uniforms and identification pins in the pile seemed to back up the Ensign’s conclusion, certainly enough to satisfy the Lieutenant. “I don’t even want to consider what could have done this…”

In the midst of their conversation, the lights in the facility flickered on and consoles hummed into life again. “Hey, you did it Leela!” Henry called out, stepping around the bulkhead with Ashrin to look in Leela’s direction.

“It wasn’t too hard actually. All I did was realign… LOOK OUT!”

Out of nowhere, a roof panel above the two males in the team gave way and an enormous, cat like creature pounced from above, barrelling the two officers to the floor with a yelp as it landed. Trying their best to stand, a swipe of its tail sent Ashrin flying into the nearby bulkhead, the Andorian crumpling to the floor. Another swipe of its claws saw the Lieutenant scurry into safety behind the same console as Leela, the two emerging from cover to fire off three blasts of their hand phasers.

Despite taking the blasts to its upper torso, the beast kept coming. It loomed larger with each step, its growl magnified the closer it got. The two officers fired off their phasers repeatedly, each impact seemingly ineffective. Then, just as it reached out to swipe the heads clean off their shoulders, another phaser blast, this time from behind and at a much higher power setting given the change in noise, felled the beast.

When the cowering officers rose to their feet, their junior colleague stood proudly, hand on her hip and waving her hand phaser. “You might be the best pilot Lieutenant,” Teanne Udraa smiled, “but you clearly aren’t the best shot.”

“I’ll concede defeat…” Henry nodded, making his way to his feet and brushing his uniform down, “…just this once.”

“Uggghh…”

A stirring Ashrin drew the attention of the three officers, each rushing over to their fallen comrade, just in time for the outpost around them to dematerialise and be replaced by the trademark orange lines of the holodeck. For a minute, the four officers looked at one another in a state of confusion, forgetting their ordeal had all been a simulation. Their confusion gave way quickly upon the sound of the holodeck doors opening, and the emergence of the XO and a number of officers.

“You survived then?” the ship’s scientist, Akaria Okan, quipped as they approached the team.

“That was the point,” Henry smirked.

“You nearly got my assistant killed,” the Chief Tactical Officer countered, a glare at the flight controller, before she, too, relented and smiled at the team.

“How long were we in there?” Ashrin queried, shaking his head in an effort to bring himself round from the impact of being flung against a bulkhead. Holographic or not, the pain felt real enough.

“Five hours, three minutes and sixteen seconds,” the familiar voice of their commanding officer answered, the Vulcan emerging from behind the small crowd that had gathered.

“Is that all?! Felt like days…”

“It would if you were in your company all that time…”

“Hey!”

“Well?” Commander Kauhn queried, arms folded, glaring at the Lieutenant. “Are you going to ask or what?”

“Oh!” the sudden realisation of the whole point of the last five hours, three minutes and sixteen seconds dawned on the flyboy and he snapped to an ‘attention’ of sorts. “What is your verdict, sir?”

Dropping his arms, the Trill reeled off his mental notes. “You could have conceded piloting duties to your able assistant, to let yourself focus on the command side of the mission,” the XO began, “but you all survived the crash. You successfully navigated a snow blizzard and found safety in the form of a clearing in the forest. You, Lieutenant, fell asleep and put your team at risk,” the senior officer chided the man.

‘Well, this is going just great…‘ the Lieutenant chastised himself inwardly.

“But, again, you all survived and made it to the safety of the outpost,” the Commander continued, “where you swiftly reactivated power, located the scientists and got yourself into a brawl with a lochnar cat. Ultimately, it was the actions of your colleague which helped you survive on that occasion,” the Trill looked less than pleased, hands on his hips as he regarded all four of the team, but his gaze ultimately falling on the Lieutenant. “Lucky for you, the team survived, and that was the point of this exercise. Therefore, I’ll be recommending to the academy that they register you as having passed the course.”

“So… I won’t be kicked off the ship?” Henry asked, already truthfully knowing the answer.

“Not today, Lieutenant,” Captain T’Prynn shook her head, then took her leave from the holodeck, swiftly followed by some of the others.

“That’s disappointing… I was looking forward to carrying him off the ship…”

“I know, right?! Kicking and screaming and everything!”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, guys!” he waved after the departing officers, then looked back at the XO.

“You’ve got a lot to learn about command Henry,” Giarvar warned him, “but you have some excellent role models here.”

And with that, the XO nodded in appreciation to the Lieutenant’s colleagues, then slapped the flight controller on the back on his way to the door, leaving the flyboy and his away team to take stock.

“I owe you all,” Henry smiled to his team.

“And you can repay us in the form of drinks at the station bar!” Ashrin nodded, smiling as he put his arm around the Lieutenant.

“Now?!” Henry asked, looking sheepish at his team. In unison, the three Ensign’s nodded in confirmation that now was the time.

“Alright, let’s go…”

“Oooh! I do fancy a Romulan ale…”

“Isn’t that stuff illegal still?”

“We’ve been on a mission of survival with Henry Mitchell and lived to tell the tale. I think some illegal brew is the least of our worries…”

Their laughter slowly faded as the doors to the holodeck closed and left behind the tales of yet another trial faced by the best and brightest of Starfleet. At least for today.

Standing in the transporter room with his hands clasped behind his back, Commander Kauhn couldn’t help but tap his feet in frustration as he waited for the visitor that had been assigned to their vessel at the last minute, putting the brakes on their impending departure for the Typhon Expanse. Details of their visitor had been sketchy, what with the orders coming through at the last minute, so no one truly understood who they were, or what they were doing aboard the ship, but it wouldn’t be long until they found out.

“We’re receiving confirmation from Deep Space Seventeen,” the transporter chief interrupted the XO’s thoughts, “Doctor Ang is ready to beam aboard.”

“Energise when ready, Chief!” the XO nodded, giving clearance to proceed. The name used had not escaped the Trill’s attention, either. A Doctor. A Doctor of what? They’d already accepted and appointed Doctor Torres as the new Chief Medical Officer, so there was no way Starfleet had replaced him already, had they?

The man who would hopefully answer that question coalesced from the glowing swirl of mass and energy, his eyes focused on the folded pair of glasses in his right hand. Tapping them against his left hand as if to confirm he was whole once again, he nodded slightly and hung them on the front of his uniform by one of the ears, then took quick stock of the room before descending from the transporter pad and approaching the XO.

His eyes flickered to the pips on the other man’s uniform as he held out his hand. “Commander Kauhn? I’m Binshou Ang, formerly the attending psychiatrist on the USS Galaxy.”

A brief, firm handshake, and then he swiftly reached down to unclasp the Starfleet arrowhead insignia on his sleek black messenger bag. He withdrew a PADD and handed it to the commander. “I know Starfleet tends to let these details trickle in, so here’s the complete documentation of my assignment.” He glanced at the transporter chief, then back to the commander. “Given the confidentiality concerns around my work, perhaps we could discuss the rest in private?”

Giarvar took ownership of the data PADD and gave it a quick glance before standing aside and gesturing to the doorway. “Captain T’Prynn is waiting for us in her ready room,” the XO explained as they began their stroll to the nearest turbo lift. Whilst they talked, the Trill began to formulate a plan of action now he knew exactly who he was dealing with.

Binshou nodded along and chimed in as necessary as the commander dutifully gave the semi-official welcome wagon rundown–Intrepid class emergency escape routes, open vs. encrypted vs. restricted comm channels–but in the back of his mind, he was playing the “joined or unjoined Trill?” game. Sometimes the name alone was a dead giveaway, but not always. And second joinings were the hardest to guess: first-timers had their own unique quirks, and older symbionts brought a unique gravitas to the host, but those in-between joinings were subtle… as for Commander Giarvar Kauhn, by the time they reached the captain’s ready room, Binshou still couldn’t wager a guess.

Pressing the button on the side of the ready room door panel, the Commander nodded at their guest, then led him into the private office of the ship’s commander. “Captain T’Prynn,” Giarvar called out as they entered, “this is Binshou Ang, formerly the attending psychiatrist on the USS Galaxy,” the XO revealed as much as he knew so he could assist the Captain, nodding to the Vulcan behind the desk.

“It is most agreeable to make your acquaintance Mister Ang,” the sultry Vulcan nodded respectfully, then gestured to the seat opposite her at the desk. “Please,” she proffered, glancing at the XO and authorising his stay.

Giarvar acquiesced and took his usual seat opposite the Captain’s desk, remaining silent until needed.

Binshou nodded and gave the Captain the ta’al salute before taking the offered seat. Once she was also seated, he spoke. “Captain T’Prynn, I’ve been sent here at the Fourth Fleet’s discretion to treat several of your officers formerly of the USS Ulysses due to the particularly shocking manner in which their previous captain was killed in action.”

“Although my interactions with the personnel formerly of Ulysses have been limited,” the Vulcan confided in the man, “it is clear there are issues to be discussed for all of them. Given the limited experience of our counseling department, your assistance is appreciated. If there is anything you require, Commander Kauhn will assist.”

Binshou nodded. “Thank you. I understand my assignment here came last minute, but I don’t have any particular requirements for personal quarters and can double up if necessary. My workstation can be any space that offers privacy and room to converse. Anything else I need I can request from your CMO–or, more properly, your AMO, since your CMO will be one of my patients.”

“As you wish,” the Vulcan nodded slightly. “Our mission will commence shortly. You are free to request the presence of any member of the crew outside of their duty shifts.”

“Much appreciated.” Binshou had never served directly under any Vulcans, and so far he found himself appreciating T’Prynn’s decisive directness. Certainly, Vulcan psychiatric practices were more unique than most in the Federation, but rather than a disdain for his profession he found that most had a pragmatic appreciation for his ability to work with something so unpleasant and volatile as emotions.

“Then my only remaining thought on the matter is the question of whether you’d like to inform your officers of my purpose and assignment here or if you’d prefer I contact them individually myself.”

For the first time in their conversation, the Vulcan passed the buck. “Commander Kauhn is in charge of all personnel-related matters,” she advised their guest, tilting her head to focus on the XO.

“I’ll let the crew know,” Giarvar nodded slowly, before swiftly adding, “but I’ll make it clear to certain individuals that attendance is mandatory. I know some of them will be reticent about their feelings and would, given the opportunity, avoid such conversations like the Tyrellian plague,” the Trill smirked in an effort to lighten the mood somewhat. He was right, of course. Talking with a psychiatrist was about as popular as a deadly illness.“

“I appreciate that, and I’m sure your crew would rather hear it from you even if they’ve only been serving here a short time.” Binshou grinned slightly in acknowledgement of the XO’s attempted levity. It was always his preference that an officer’s own higher-ups give notice of mandatory psychiatric screenings–it made for a less fraught first session–but he rarely insisted on it. Seeing for himself what choice an officer’s superiors would make was useful data.

“Well then.” He turned back towards T’Prynn and gripped the arms of his chair as if ready to stand. “I’ve taken enough of your time, and I don’t want to keep you any longer than necessary during your preparations for departure.”

Rising to her feet, the Captain nodded respectfully to their guest. “Your presence here is welcome, Commander. I predict your stay here to be most intriguing,” she smiled as she gestured for the doorway.

Binshou stood and started to bow–an automatic response still hardwired even after more than a decade away from home–but stopped and turned it into a nod as he returned the Vulcan’s unexpected smile and left the ready room.

Following their guest, Commander Kauhn guided the man past the inevitable hubbub on the bridge and to the safety of the nearest turbo lift. Once the doors were closed, the XO relaxed a little. “She likes you,” he smiled happily.

Binshou laughed, his own smile finally becoming a real expression instead of an affected pleasantry. “I’m glad to hear that, I wasn’t sure about the connotation of ‘intriguing’. Even Vulcans who’ve been working with non-Vulcans for many years can be hard to interpret if you don’t know them. Have you been serving with her for a while?”

Standing at the front of the turbo lift pod, the Commander placed his hands behind his back, clasping them together as a smirk crossed his face and bobbed up and down on the balls of his feet.

“Long enough…” he whispered, letting his carefully chosen words hang in the air as the pod began its descent.

Later, when Binshou was settled into his new quarters, he sat down at his desk and asked the computer to pull up the Starfleet personnel file for Giarvar Kauhn. The riddle he’d started pondering upon his arrival had presented very few clues, but he didn’t want it distracting him from the important work that lay ahead. Might as well cheat and drop the game altogether.

His eyes scanned the document and immediately zeroed in on species info. “Trill/unjoined. Huh. I wouldn’t have guessed…”

Psychiatric practices in Cardassian culture must be utterly horrifying is the first thought that jumped to Binshou’s mind, but it wouldn’t make for a very good conversation opener. And a bit of conversation would ease the tedium of calibrating the medical tricorder he’d received from Dr. Iddar for use during his assignment.

After a long journey to Deep Space 17 and his last-minute arrival on the Intrepid yesterday, he’d slept like the dead and didn’t bother setting an alarm. It had been exactly what he’d needed and seemed further justified by allowing Commander Kauhn time to brief the former Ulysses crew on their impending psychiatric evaluations. But eventually, food, a shower, and personal correspondence did have to give way to work, which meant going straight to sickbay to requisition supplies and review inventory and medical files. 

“Thank you again for your help this morning, Dr. Iddar. You certainly know your way around this sickbay. Have you been on the Intrepid long?” Yes, that was definitely a better opener.

Pottering around the recently redeveloped sickbay, the Cardassian assistant shrugged as she picked up a fluid sample and began to analyse it. “A little over a year I guess,” the grey-skinned youngster told, smiling at the newest ‘member’ of their crew, “and please, it’s Keshah,” she added.

“You’ll have to start calling me Binshou, then,” he said in a mock-warning tone. “Well then, Keshah, was this your first assignment out of the Academy?” Binshou plucked his glasses from where they hung on the front of his uniform and donned them as he held the tricorder closer to his face. “And to hell with subtlety, what’s your opinion on your new CMO?” He looked up from the tricorder and gave her a contrite, lopsided grin.

“Oh, I see. Not really interested in me after all…” the Cardassian smirked playfully, returning the fluid sample to its protective encasement and plucking another from her experiment for study. “To answer your first question, no. This is my second assignment post-Academy. My first was to Santa Fe, which coincidentally is where I first met the Doctor,” she revealed, her eyes trained on her work despite the casual nature of her words. “Josue used to be quite relaxed, quite a positive person, optimistic,” she concluded, returning the sample back to its container and picking up a data PADD.

Binshou nodded slowly in acknowledgement of the crucial “used to be”. “Well, I’m glad to know he has a familiar face onboard in addition to his Ulysses crewmates.” His tricorder chimed in–quite literally–to signal that calibration was complete. Closing the top flap, he attached it to its strap and slung it over his shoulder, then removed his glasses and tapped them on his left palm as he turned to address Keshah. “And I would be genuinely interested in hearing about what inspired you to practice medicine, in Starfleet of all places. We should dine together sometime. Especially since you’re the only person I’ve met on this ship outside the captain and the first officer.”

“I’d like that…” Keshah playfully grinned, swanning past the man, her ponytail swinging freely behind her head. “Speak of the devil…” she nodded towards the sickbay doors and the presence of the onrushing Chief Medical Officer.

“Oh! Dr. Torres.” Binshou watched the other man approach and briefly wondered if he was in a rush or just a brisk walker. “I’m Dr. Binshou Ang, the visiting psychiatrist. I’m all done in here so I can get out of your hair if necessary; I’m sure you have a lot to do now that we’ve gotten underway.”

Josue had to practically slide to a halt in order to prevent himself from hurtling into the newcomer, but once he was stationary, the chief physician shook his head. “Commander Kauhn told me you would be looking for me,” the Canadian male smiled, forced if ever one had been seen. “He told me that I’d be the first on your list for an evaluation, so why don’t we just get the show on the road?” the doctor suggested, almost rubbing his hands in mock glee at the suggestion.

Ah, and there it is. Binshou’s posture shifted ever so slightly, his movements became more methodical, and he offered a broad, placid smile as he hung his glasses back on his uniform. “Of course! I anticipated that your schedule might be the most difficult to work around, so we should take this opportunity.” He began to make his way out of the sickbay and gestured for Josue to follow. “The office they’ve set me up with is just around the corner here. Apparently. I haven’t seen it yet myself.”

Down the hall and around the corner was a small door numbered 5-1-7, just as the memo this morning had informed him. He pushed his thumb to the panel and it slid open with a soft hiss, revealing several chairs, a desk, some lamps to soften the ubiquitous overhead lighting, a handful of plants from several mismatched ecosystems, and a small frame with stars streaking across its length that was probably meant to mimic a window on the hull. “Well, this is rather nice!”

He stepped aside and gestured for Josue to enter first.

Wandering across the threshold, the Doctor looked around the small ‘office’ and frowned. Standing in the center of the room, he looked at the visitor. “This used to be the private rec room for the medical team,” he told, “you know, so my team could take a moment in the event of an emergency. There used to be a bed just there,” he pointed to an area where a plant stood.

Binshou frowned as he stepped into the room and crossed to the desk. “Well, that’s not right. The medical team needs downtime. Thank you for telling me,” he said, making eye contact with Josue. Best to respond sincerely to honesty right from the start, even if we technically haven’t started yet. “I’ll talk to the quartermaster and if necessary the executive officer after this session. I could make do with a closet as long as it has two chairs and a door that shuts.”

He retrieved a PADD from the desk, replacing it with the medical tricorder he’d just calibrated. With the push of a button, he activated the device, then took his seat.

“Before we get started,” he said, donning his glasses again and squinting at the PADD, “Any impending appointments or obligations I should be aware of so that we don’t run this session too long?”

“Not unless the Captain flies us into a disaster zone,” the Doctor shook his head, pulling out a chair and taking a seat. His words were short and to the point, everything he secretly hoped this meeting would be.

“Alright.” A few keystrokes, then he lowered the PADD and considered the man seated across from him. “Well, Dr. Torres, as you are a fellow medical professional I think I can approach this session from a more meta-level. If Commander Kauhn didn’t explicitly tell you that this is about the death of your former captain then I’m sure you’ve at least inferred it. It may have been a while since your psychiatry rotation at Starfleet Medical, but you know what I’m expected to do here, right?”

Josue scoffed as he listened to the psychiatrist’s words, his posture becoming more relaxed, but exhibiting a little hostility. Of course he knew what was expected, he wasn’t a grad student or a cadet. “You’re right, I had inferred the intent of these sessions,” he answered, “and you’re here to make sure my responses to matters of grief and trauma are healthy, reasoned responses, and I’m not about to become some pathological serial killer on the hunt for revenge,” he was smirking whilst shaking his head in mock disdain. “Am I right?”

“Well, essentially.” Binshou chuckled. “But I’m less concerned you’ll go on a murder spree and more concerned about depression, or psychosomatic illness, or burnout. Burnout is common enough in the medical field as it is. Have you ever considered leaving the medical field before? For any reason? Whether due to complications in your personal life, a poor work environment, whatever. Internal and external factors are all perfectly valid.”

Oh, so it was straight down to business then? Josue sat up and gave his colleague the respect he deserved, taking the question, and thus the session, more seriously than he had the third. “Never,” the younger man smile, shaking his head and causing his dark mop to move freely and at speed. “I’m in my early thirties, it took me an age to get where I am and I sure as hell aren’t about to give up anytime soon. Unless…”

Binshou did his best to suppress any outward expression of satisfaction as his patient began to truly engage. It was less of a battle than he’d been expecting, frankly. Instead, he shifted in his seat and leaned forward a bit as he listened, giving Josue space to finish his sentence, but the other man remained lost in thought. “Unless?” he prompted.

“Unless I get shafted out to some ridiculous backwater posting,” the physician smirked, relaxing back into his chair. “Although, that happened to the very famous Julian Bashir, and his posting became one of the most famous in the galaxy!” the younger man recalled, losing himself in the moment again.

“Ah! True…” Binshou nodded slowly and tapped some notes into the PADD. “Speaking of work, have you talked about the loss of your captain with any of your former Ulysses coworkers? Or perhaps any friends or family members?”

And here it was, the topic he had expected but didn’t particularly want to address, despite the show he tried to put on for the people around him. “I don’t really speak with my family,” he shook his head slowly, “but yeah, I’ve talked about it with colleagues… those that want to talk about it.” His tone grew quieter as he addressed the death of the captain, and the reluctance of others to do so.

“That’s good, I’m relieved to hear that.” Binshou shifted in his seat as he recalled the grizzly details of the medical reports attached to his mission briefing. He hadn’t had a chance to read them all in detail, but even the summaries were hard to stomach. “Though I imagine the view from sickbay gives you a distressingly unique perspective.”

“You could say that,” Josue shuffled uncomfortably, tucking his hands between his legs that were pressed tightly together. “Only three other people saw what I saw: one left Starfleet and two… well lets just say they won’t be on active duty for a while,” he divulged, being careful not to share anything he shouldn’t.

Binshou’s eyes lost focus for the briefest moment as he thought back to some of the worst trauma, both physical and mental, he’d seen over the course of his career. “Have you felt compelled to describe what you saw to anyone who didn’t witness it firsthand? And to be clear, I’m not asking about the ethics of doing so, I’m only interested in your feelings and impulses.”

Josue shook his head, tears welling in the corners of his eyes for the briefest of moments, so much so that he felt compelled to close his eyes. “No one needs to know what I saw…” he whispered, fighting back the tears. 

“Maybe not your other crew members from the Ulysses, no, but it’s not something you have to keep to yourself either. Starfleet has support groups for exactly this sort of situation: other medical personnel in virtual meetings discussing the death of colleagues in a way that they can’t with non-medical personnel. People who don’t personally know you or Captain sh’Elas but can still directly empathise with your experience. You could start there…”

A slight flutter in his peripheral vision caught his eye, and for the first time, he noticed the old-fashioned box of paper tissues on the small table to his right. Fresh from the replicator no doubt. The quartermaster may have made a poor choice in room assignments, but they clearly knew how to stock a psychiatrist’s office.

He grabbed the box and leaned forward to offer it to Josue. “Or you could start right here.”

Josue whipped a tissue from the box and crumpled it in his hand as he tucked both between his legs and squeezed them tight. He stared at the ground in silence for what felt like an eternity, sniffling away the tears, until eventually, he felt ready to unload.

“It was awful,” the Doctor whispered, his gaze still on the deck plating, “I’ve been in Starfleet for a while, and been in the field to deal with trauma, but this was unlike anything I had ever seen before,” he explained. As he recounted the sight that had befallen him on the day of the Captain’s death, he could picture it so vividly. sh’Elas, throat slashed from ear to ear with a cut so deep she had been practically decapitated, had her chest ripped apart and her entrails dragged across the floor of the brig. 

Binshou nodded. “It was physically extreme; it occurred under intense personal circumstances; it was someone you knew. That impact upon impact upon impact is a lot to contend with. The fact that you’re still here in Starfleet, taking on promotion aboard a whole new ship, is impressive.” He smiled. “It shows resilience.”

“I’m a medical professional,” Torres looked up at the psychiatrist, a scowl on his face, “you of all people should know that we have to be some of the most resilient people out there.”

“Survivorship bias. Medical professionals are resilient because the ones who aren’t, stop being medical professionals. Like what I said at the beginning about burnout.” Binshou had restrained his smile somewhat, but it was still peeking through at the corners of his mouth. “So when I say you’re resilient, you’ll just have to accept my expert opinion on the matter, because it’s going in your file.”

Torres shrugged. “If you say so,” he frowned, and then a heaving sigh followed. “So what now?” he asked.

“Now? For now, I’m going to forward the details of some of those support groups I mentioned to your personal access station, and I’d like you to seriously consider whether or not that’s something you could find helpful at this juncture. Maybe it is, maybe it’s not. Otherwise, I think we can cut this session short so that you have some time to decompress before you have to be back on duty. I’ll have to speak to you again before I leave anyway.

“Unless there’s anything else you’d like to address before we walk back out that door.”

Josue stared at the man in a sort of stunned silence, finding it tricky to comprehend how much the man had managed to get him to divulge in such a short space of time. “I think we’re good for now,” the physician finally spoke again, his voice quiet and a little croaky as he rose to his feet.

“Great!” Binshou’s demeanour was bright, but his movements were slow and careful as he followed Josue out of the room. Once he was sure the other man wasn’t going to walk into a wall or wander into an unsecured Jeffries tube, he carefully took Josue’s hand in a parting handshake. “Once again, very good to meet you. Now I think I’ll be on my way to the quartermaster to get this office situation sorted out.”

And with that, he departed down the corridor, purposely heading in the opposite direction of sickbay.

Risa. Paradise. Warm tropical breezes, exotic foods, nothing to do but sit around all day. It was the dream vacation spot for everyone and anyone.

Except for a miserable Tellarite going through some difficult times, which was why Vasoch Gor, formally the executive officer of the starship Ulysses, and of Starfleet, had opted to remain on Andor instead. Icy and bitter, that was just the Tellarite’s demeanour of late, not just the surface of the freezing planet dozens of light-years from home. In truth, the ageing Tellarite’s choice to visit one of the founding worlds of the Federation was nothing to do with his mental health, and everything to do with the death of his friend, his colleague, and his captain.

Funny. When had he started to see Tharia as more than just a colleague, his superior? When had she become his friend? Was it around the time she had followed his advice in the Opra system, or maybe when he had opted to stay aboard Ulysses when she had been granted permanent command? It didn’t matter now, though. She was dead, killed in action serving her beloved Starfleet and her crew. She gave her life to get the ship to safety, a ship that she had left to him. Oh, how he wished it had been him on the floor of the brig instead of her, entrails sprawled across the deck, limp and lifeless. It was an image he could never forget, despite dozens of counselling sessions.

The only relief he had experienced came when he arrived here, at her ancestral home on Andoria. She had once told him that, “when a Guardsman dies far from home, their companions carry part of them back to the ice of Andoria.” To him, that was more than just a piece of trivia; it was a promise. A promise shared with only one other. And while Tempestava th’Zorati had travelled with him and their captain on her final journey home (she had long since returned to Starfleet service, apparently aboard the starship Venture), he had remained. He had remained, not out of some misguided sense of loyalty, but out of respect for the wishes of his friend.

Standing in front of the Wall of Heroes outside the Federation Embassy in the northern hemisphere, Vasoch had been enveloped by the largest, warmest coat one had ever seen. The hood, impressively fluffy inside, protected his scraggly hair from the elements. The Wall of Heroes. An impressive memorial to all Andorians that had died off-world, in the service of the Federation and even the Imperial Guard centuries earlier. Hundreds of thousands of names etched into history, and Tharia’s was the most recent. Probably not the last, either.

In his hand, a data PADD beeped, confirming the completion of the download he had been waiting for. He had been sent a request by Tharia’s family, a copy of the Andorian equivalent of a last will and testament to be precise. In it awaited the requests left for him. He’d been waiting for the download to complete for a while, but now that it had, he couldn’t bring himself to read it.

Elsewhere, following the USS Sojourner’s return to Federation space after its encounter with the blood-dilithium crystalline entity, the ship needed a visit to the shipyard for repairs. Lieutenant Kerry Dawson had been looking forward to the downtime to allow her and her science team to review their findings from the delta quadrant but she was not given the chance. Almost immediately after the Sojourner was docked she was invited to attend a scientific conference on blood dilithium and to share her experience with it and the encounter they had. After taking the Wavecrest, the Sojourner’s Waverider class runabout she arrived on Andoria with Ensign Jenoda Toi, her Geology and Planetary Science lead. The two of them had spent the last few days in a blur of endless lectures and discussions leaving her feeling drained.

Kerry stepped out into the bracing cold air of Andoria and tried to suppress an involuntary shiver. Pulling her coat around herself she began to wander the streets in the hope of a bit of peace. After a few minutes, she found herself near the Federation Embassy and the Wall of Heros outside of it. Thanen had mentioned the Wall to her before she had left and she was glad she had been able to see it before she left. 

Seeing the Wall she couldn’t help but think of the events on Ulysses and the death of Captain Tharia sh’Elas. She had never had the chance to meet her but she knew Kirin and Thanen did and both had thought highly of her. She thought back to the days when the Sojourner along with the Sarek and the Ulysses made their way back to the Markonian outpost following the Hirogen attack. She remembered walking the corridors of the Galaxy-class ship with the repair teams and the feeling of loss the crew felt. Without thinking, she made her way towards the wall lost in her memories of the last few months. She came to a stop near a rather stout individual, or so she assumed as they were wearing the largest coat she had ever seen but didn’t give them any mind. She bent down and examined the names until she found the newest; her gloved hand came to rest on it and she paused, “Thanen and Kirin thought very highly of you, you will be missed.”

Watching from several feet away, Vasoch watched as the new figure moved in front of him and placed her hand upon the memorial. He could barely make out what she said, with it being some reference to his captain being missed. “You knew her?” the Tellarite called out from beneath his hood.

Surprised by the contact and the question, Kerry fell backwards with a start causing the hood she had on to fall back and her blond hair to spill out. As she regained her feet she looked up at the individual beside her. Though his face was somewhat obscured by the large hood she recognized the features of a Tellarite. After a moment she responded, “Sorry, Commander, ah, Captain Gor? I am Lieutenant Kerry Dawson from the Sojourner. I, no, I did not know her but my captain and the first officer did and spoke highly of her. Are you here for the conference as well? I did not see you at the academy.”

“Apologies if I startled you, Lieutenant,” the Tellarite smiled sheepishly, “and it’s just Vasoch now. I resigned my commission a few weeks ago,” he revealed to her, indirectly answering her question in the process.

A confused look crossed her face as she tucked her hair back into her hood, “Resigned your commission? Why?” She glanced back at the wall and the name there and a thought crossed her mind. Before she could think about it the words were out of her mouth, “Captain sh’Elas’ death?”

Vasoch chose his words carefully, as his gaze returned to the Wall. “Too much loss, over too many years. Starfleet has lost its way. I don’t feel like there is a place for an old explorer like me these days,” he let out a wistful sigh.

Kerry stood silent for a moment following Vasoch’s comment, a part of her thought she should leave him to his thoughts but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed the company and to talk. “I, um,” she began, a little unsure, “I do not think that is true. I cannot compare what Starfleet used to be from my own experience but I would argue that with all the pressures on it people like you are needed now more than ever to ensure it keeps to its true values.”

”I don’t think I can save Starfleet, Miss. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to figure out how I’m going to complete the last wishes of my friend,” the Tellarite huffed, turning to leave.

Kerry glanced back at the wall and shivered slightly, pulling her coat tight around her. “What were her last wishes? Is it something I could help with?”

Vasoch stopped and turned back to the Terran. His eyes then glanced up and away, high above the Wall they had been looking at. “To conquer my fear of heights,” he frowned, nodding his head towards the tallest peak in the northern wastes.

“Heights sir? You plan on going climbing, I have heard good things about some of the places here?” Kerry asked as she followed his gaze. She glanced back at Vasoch as several lines of thought raced through her head. “Who are you going with? Best not to do that alone.”

He nodded in response, eyes trained on the mountaintop. “No one I know is mad enough to accompany me,” he grimaced.

Kerry smiled slightly, “Ah, well if you want some company I enjoy climbing, did it throughout my time at the academy.” She didn’t know Vasoch but the crew on the Sojourner kept telling her to engage more with people and this seemed like a good chance for that, not to mention a good idea.

‘Sure, why not?’ The Tellarite pondered to himself for a few seconds and then nodded. “Agreed. How about we meet back here in an hour?”

Kerry nodded a bit too enthusiastically, “One hour? Sure thing Capt… I mean Vasoch.” She looked back towards her hotel, “That gives me time to get ready. See you then.” With that, she turned quickly and began to walk towards her room.

Vasoch watched as his new friend vacated the area, and then looked back at the mountain they were to climb. A sweeping realisation hit him that perhaps, just perhaps, he wasn’t cut out to be climbing mountains at his age, or in his condition for that matter.

‘What the hell was I thinking?!’ was all that crossed his mind as he stood in deep contemplation, regretting the mere suggestion of ascending such a peek.

One of many odd decisions he had made of late, apparently…

Ice fields and enormous peaks made up the Andorian landscape across the entire planet, but the treacherous Northern Wastes was the home of the tallest peak on Andoria and was the site of Vasoch’s would-be-attempt to fulfil the last wishes of his fallen comrade. While he had planned to engage in this ill-advised pursuit on his own, he had somehow managed to elicit the help of a new comrade, a poor soul who had been planetside for an academic conference and had somehow volunteered herself for the climb to the summit of Bien’lan, the tallest of the mountains in the range. Even now, at the height of the Andorian summer, the temperature in the wastes had fallen to 25° below zero, and despite the warnings of their guide, the two offworlders had wrapped up warm and covered the distance to base camp.

Kerry stood beside Vasoch and looked up at the mighty peak before them. She had changed into the best cold weather gear the Federation had to offer but even with that, the cold made her shiver ever so slightly. Looking over at Vasoch she smiled, “Well, where shall we start?”

A clatter nearby caused the two to look over at their Andorian guide. “I recommend we start at the bottom and work our way to the top,” he told, throwing some equipment to the floor between them. “Grab one of everything and we’ll start the climb,” he told sternly, putting some devices onto his belt.

With a trademark ‘hmph’, Vasoch exchanged a smirk with Kerry and then began picking up some of the dumped equipment, including something resembling an Andorian pickaxe and some rations.

The comment caused Kerry’s cheeks to redden, ‘Of course the bottom I knew that…’ she thought to herself as she followed Vasoch. After a moment of looking at the gear, she quickly slid the safety harness up over her legs and secured it tightly. Picking up one of the pickaxes she looked over it quickly before turning to Vasoch and their guide, “I didn’t get your name, I am Kerry Dawson. Could you check on the harness? Definitely do not want to fall because I put it on wrong.”

“Tsh’las,” the burly Andorian responded, stepping over to the woman and pulling on her harness, ragging her nimble frame around as he did so. “You’re all set,” he told, then moved over to the Tellarite. “What about you?” and began checking over the elder man’s equipment.

“Steady…” Vasoch growled at the Andorian, not desiring the same treatment as the young woman had received.

Kerry wasn’t overly pleased with the guide so far but let it slide for the moment. As she watched him finish checking Vasoch she finished packing her backpack with extra rations the guide had brought on top of the ones she had packed along with the basic survival gear already in the bag. Glancing at Vasoch and Tsh’las she shouldered her bag and clipped two of the picks on her belt, “So I guess we follow your lead Tsh’las?”

“Let’s go,” the Andorian nodded, pushing past the two climbers and heading into the snow.

“What’s his problem?” Vasoch remarked, “I’m sorry he is being so rude,” the elder man frowned apologetically while looking at Kerry, before following the tall, blue-skinned man into the snow.

Kerry shrugged as she glanced at the Andorian and muttered a quick, “Thanks.” She then turned and followed Vasoch. Following behind with her now rather heavy backpack her nerves were starting to get the better of her, ‘Off to a great start already. The guide already doesn’t like me…maybe this isn’t a good idea.’ As the thoughts raced through her head they reached the trailhead leading up the mountain. Staring up at it she turned to Vasoch and smiled as best she could, “You all set?”

“It doesn’t seem that much taller from up close,” the Tellarite lied, shaking his head as he followed the lead of their guide and began planting safety equipment into place.

“We’ll go up on separate lines,” the Andorian brute told, tying off his rope. “We’ll add pitons every hundred feet or so. That way, if either of you fall, you’ll be safe. Keep your comm badges handy. Questions?”

Kerry shook her head, “Straight forward enough.” She looked up at their first climb planning her route and shivered, not from the cold but from the adrenaline that began to pump through her veins. “Do you want to check our set-up before we get started up?” she asked the surly guide.

Tsh’las grunted and wandered over to the woman first and pulled on her equipment, checking that everything was in place, then followed suit with the Tellarite.

Without further pause, Kerry stepped forward and began the climb. Though cold the rocks were not slippery and she was able to find solid hand and foot holds. After making it about 30 feet up, she secured her second piton and she locked herself in, leaned back and tested the hold before turning to look down at Vasoch, “How are you doing?”

“Oh, you know, loving every minute,” Vasoch frowned, practically dragging himself up to the same location as she was at and slammed the piton into place. A glance upward showed Tsh’las was already two steps ahead of them. “I don’t think much of this guy,” he grunted, taking a deep breath and composing himself before the urge to continue up the cliff came again.

Kerry let out a low laugh, “Yeah, same.” With that, she continued up the cliff face beside Vasoch. The next few hours passed as they followed their guild further up the mountain alternating between short hikes when able and climbs. They stopped every so often when a suitable location or ledge was reached to rest their arms and eat.

Kerry looked out over the northern wastes from their perch high up the mountain as she messaged her lower legs she couldn’t help but admit it was stunning in its harsh beauty. She smiled and turned to look over at Vasoch, “This climb is something else, how are you doing? Your fear, um, issue with height isn’t giving you too much trouble?”

No, I’m fine, ” he wheezed, but as he did so, he heard something that sounded otherworldly, unearthly even. No, wait! It was the earth shaking beneath their feet as the mountain rumbled like a terrible beast waking in the depths of the darkest ocean.

“Brace yourselves!” came a bellow from above, the Andorian clinging to the rock face for protection.

Kerry felt that mountain shake and began to pull herself close to the rockface but looked up as their guide shouted. As she did she was pelted with small rocks and chunks of ice as they fell down the slope causing her to slip and fell to the last piton she had locked in place, almost 50 feet and slammed into the wall. Shouting in shock and pain she was able to grab hold of the rock face pulled herself in close and closed her eyes tight, wishing, not for the first time that she had not started the climb.

“Hang on!” Vasoch yelled down the rockface to his fallen comrade. He was just about to release his rope and begin the descent to her location when a blue figure hurtled down past him, causing him to jolt back and nearly destabilise his own position.

“Stay there, Pig!” the Andorian guide yelled, sliding down to the woman’s location and coming to a halt at her side. “Do you think you’ll be able to climb the rest of the way?” he asked her, less out of sympathy it seemed, and more out of inconvenience.

Kerry blinked as her head spun, she glanced over at the Andorian. Before she could say a word the mountain shook again and the icy rock before them split causing both the Andorian and Kerry to lose their hold and fall into an icy mist below them, along with their pitons in a shower of rock and ice.

Vasoch watched in horror as the scene before him unfolded, entirely helpless to assist in any way. Clinging to the rock face, he thought about sliding down to find them, but what if the mountain gave way some more?

Kerry slowly made her way back up the crevasse before she pulled herself onto a ledge and put her back to the rock wall. She pulled out a commbadge from her coat and tapped it before frowning when she realized it was cracked. Looking up into the haze she shouted, “Vasoch can you hear me?”

“Yes!” the Tellarite yelled from above, “are you alright?!”

Kerry let out a sigh and glanced back down the crevasse then back up towards the Tellarite, “Yeah, a couple of bumps, I got lucky though I lost my pack in the fall. The guide though, he didn’t make it; saw him crack his head before falling further down. Can you lower a rope? I think I am done with the climb.”

“Hang on,” the Tellarite called down to her, “I’m coming.” With that, he gathered as much equipment as he could still reach and pulled on the damaged rope left behind by the free-falling Andorian. “Can’t say I’m going to miss him much,” Vasoch smirked as he began to descend to his new friend’s location.

Kerry smirked at that as she glanced back down, “No, I won’t either.”

She paced impatiently on the ledge for a few minutes while Vasoch descended down towards her. She was about to call out asking how he was coming along when a rope dropped into view and he slide down. “I see your fear of heights hasn’t slowed you,” she said with a smile. 

“Heights is a problem going up,” the Tellarite grinned, “not coming down.”

“I don’t know about you but I am not really feeling like a climb-out is the best bet, shall we call for some assistance?” Kerry asked.

“Do you have a commbadge with you? I, uh, don’t…” he smirked, making reference to the fact that he was no longer a Starfleet officer.

Kerry shook her head and tossed her damaged commbadge to him, “It was damaged when I smashed into the rock. Guess we need to do this the hard way.” She looked up at the dangling rope and walked over to it before giving a quick glance at the crevice. “I don’t really want to hang around here anymore.”

“I might be able to get something working out of this,” the Tellarite mused, reaching into his bag, and searching for a particular piece of equipment. Pulling out a small, screwdriver-like tool, he prised open the commbadge’s case and began to get to work. “The power system is intact. We just need to get it to emit some sort of signal…”

Kerry leaned back against the rock wall and pulled her arms around her and shivered, “What if you connected the power supply directly to the transmitter? That should send out a pulse?”

“I’ll give it a shot,” the Tellarite nodded, rubbing his hands together briefly to keep them warm before getting back to work on the small device. For a novice engineer, it was surprisingly easy to accomplish his goal. When it was connected, a press on the front activated the small pulse. Now all they had to do was wait.

And wait they did, for a little over an hour, huddled for warmth and doing their best to keep an eye out for any sign of someone nearby. But as the cold began to get to the older man’s bones, he could feel himself drifting off.

When he next awoke, he found himself under the bright lights of the medical facility at the Federation Embassy, with a physician eyeing him up as he rested.

Kerry glanced over at the Tellarite when he began to move but waited for the physician to move off, “That was an adventure, remind me next time I run into you to not go climbing a snow and ice-covered mountain.” Before Vasoch could speak she continued, “The SAR team looked for the guide, but they couldn’t find any trace of him, the crevasse was very deep and broke off into smaller ones the deeper it went. He wasn’t the nicest guy but wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“No more rock climbing; no more adventures,” the Tellarite shook his head as he was helped back to his feet. “I think it is time to face facts… I’m not cut out for a life away from the uniform.”

They spoke for a few more hours before they were discharged from the medical facility. Standing outside Kerry turned and looked back at Vasoch and cocked her head, “So, when are you due to report back? I need to get back to the Sojourner pretty quick here.”

“I need to hitch a ride to Deep Space Seventeen,” he smiled to his new friend, “see if the bigwigs will even take me back. I want to thank you, Kerry. And I wish you, and the Sojourner, all the best in your adventures together.”

Kerry smiled, “I am glad to hear that sir,” she said. “I wish you the best of luck with things. I have already received a message from Ensign Toi asking when I will be ready to depart.” With that, she nodded to him and turned and walked off. She had to make sure all the things that were brought to Andoria were accounted for before she beamed up to the Wavecrest.

Watching as the younger woman disappeared, Vasoch felt a wave of calm flood over him, almost as if he was at peace again.

The ghost of Tharia sh’Elas had been laid to rest.

For now.