Sage’s breaths came in ragged, desperate counts, “1…2…3…4…5 and exhale,” he whispered, clutching the edges of the sofa. It had become his lifeline. He sought solace in these rhythmic breaths whenever the conversation veered into dangerous waters.

But now, it wasn’t just a coping mechanism but a crutch, a lifebuoy in a sea of turmoil.

A voice, tinged with both concern and exasperation, pierced the air, “Are you resorting to breathing again? We’ve talked about this.”

Sage’s reply was sharp, almost evil, “No, it’s all you do. Talk!” His eyes snapped open as he rose, his voice laced with frustration, “Talking won’t fix this.” He pointed towards the door, his voice cracking, “It won’t…”

“What won’t it do, Lieutenant?” The Counselor pressed, undeterred, “You’ve stopped here week after week. It’s been…”

“I know how long it’s been. I was there, remember?” Sage’s voice trembled, tears threatening to spill. “It changes nothing. It won’t bring them back.”

“You can’t bear this alone…” the Counselor spoke but was interrupted.

“It wasn’t your hand on that phaser!” His words thundered, fists clenched, “You didn’t forget to check the settings!” He was nearly shouting now. “I did!” He exclaimed.

He sank back into the sofa, his voice a fragile whisper, “She was thirteen, just a child. One moment, she was there, and then…” The words hung heavy, his face etched with sorrow. “I didn’t know the weapon was set to…” he paused.  

He started to breathe again, but something was different this time. “One, check the phaser charge; breathe,” he took a breath.

“Two set the power level and breathe,” he took a breath.

“Three, aim, breathe,” he took another breath. 

“Four, breathe,” the tempo of his voice increased rapidly. 

“Five, Breathe.”

I mean, we’re trained for this, right?” he looked past the Counselor as if he was pleading with someone else in the room. 

“You couldn’t have known, Sage,” the Counselor’s voice held a gentle reassurance.

In the large open area behind the sofa, he could see Captain Naris at the very moment her daughter had died.  Her expression and the pain in her eyes burned into his mind. It was a punishment that would forever haunt him. 

“Grace,” he stammered, his words trailing off, unable to complete the sentence. “I turned to my left, and there stood the Captain. I was paralyzed. She had battled with such determination. That ship was her soul. She wouldn’t desert it.”

As Sage recounted the incident, a cold shiver ran down his spine, and his heart pounded in his chest. He could feel the weight of every breath, each inhalation dragging him back to that fateful moment.

“You understand, don’t you?” He asked, moving to the Captain’s figure.

Before the Counselor could respond, he continued, the words tumbling out, “But at that moment, I saw it. She’d lost everything. All she had was gone. Just like that… Naris surrendered to death,” he looked right into Naris’ eyes. It was almost like she was standing there.

“So your Captain fell before your eyes,” the Counselor stood up, walking over to him.   The Counselor placed a hand on his shoulder, saying, “I wish I had answers, but I don’t. A dozen more people are waiting outside, all with the same wounds. Honestly, there aren’t enough Counselors in the entire Federation to handle this. We’ve all witnessed devastation on an unimaginable scale. Every ship carries hearts just as heavy as yours.” The timer chimed softly on her desk.

“This was important,” she said, her smile gentle but weary, “difficult but important.”  It was a breakthrough, one that she had hoped would happen.  It was a small but vital step in the healing process.  

The soft chime of the timer on the Counselor’s desk seemed to echo through the room, a gentle reminder that time moved forward, even when wounds remained fresh. Sage couldn’t help but wonder if this moment would be the turning point he so desperately needed.

Two weeks later, Sage materialized in Transporter Room 1 aboard the USS Dragonfly, the familiar hum of the transporter dissipating around him. As the particles solidified, he met the warm gaze of the ship’s Counselor, Massi Evet. They exchanged a glance that spoke volumes, a silent acknowledgment of the storms they both weathered.

“Mas,” Sage greeted her with a soft smile, his voice carrying a mixture of gratitude and relief. Her presence had been a pillar of support in a stormy sea. She had been his life raft. With most of the Senior Staff having passed on or moved to other assignments, Massi was one of the few who understood what happened here.  She got it.

Massi’s eyes held an understanding gaze, her voice tender, “Sage, it’s good to see you.”

He stepped forward, surrounding her in a heartfelt embrace. It was a simple gesture, a profound connection forged through shared pain and the weight of their respective responsibilities. At that moment, the embrace spoke of trust, of finding solace in each other’s presence.

“Sage,” Massi said softly, her hand resting on his arm, “we’ll face this together. Neither of us is alone in this.”

He nodded, grateful for her steadfast support. At that moment, amidst the quiet hum of the transporter room, they both knew they were stronger together than apart. They were all that remained.  They were comrades in arms, bound by the heavy burden. The strength of their friendship was a source of light in the darkness that loomed over them both.

Reginald “RJ” James Walker stood at the threshold of a new chapter in his life. He gazed down the corridor, knowing a few more steps would lead him onto the USS Dragonfly. He’d learned about its history, yet he understood that nothing could fully prepare him for what lay beyond. Emotions swirled within him. RJ, born in Houston, Texas, embodied a seasoned Starfleet officer. His one solace over the last two months was the memory of fly fishing on Betazed during Frontier Day.

The memory of Betazed lingered vividly in RJ’s mind. He could still feel the sun’s warmth on his skin, hear the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze, and see the vibrant colors of the native flora. The soothing sounds of flowing water echoed in his ears. It was a sanctuary amidst the chaos of Frontier Day. That vacation, now a bittersweet oasis, weighed heavily on him. Yet, deep down, he understood that he couldn’t have changed the outcome of the battle that followed. He might have been among the casualties of that epic struggle. Now, standing before the USS Dragonfly, he faced a new choice. The promise of uncharted horizons echoed in RJ’s steady heart.

His reputation as a no-nonsense, by-the-book leader had preceded him, grounded in his unyielding dedication to protocol and order. A deep tactical understanding and strategic thinking shaped his decisions, earning him the respect of those under his command. Amidst loss and devastation, RJ hoped to be a beacon of stability—a steadfast figure working to unify grieving and uncertain souls.

As he took the helm of the Dragonfly, RJ’s Texan roots infused a subtle cadence into his speech, a nod to his past that added warmth to his commanding presence. His diverse crew, hailing from across the cosmos, felt a mix of eagerness and apprehension. Among them were both new faces and those carrying the weight of sorrow from losing their friends, the memory of their former Commander, Captain Naris, still lingering like a shadow.

RJ’s journey had brought him to this pivotal moment, a merging of destinies demanding delicate balance—a fusion of two crews, each with their own history and stories etched in the stars. He knew challenges lay ahead. 

As RJ stepped onto the bridge, a hushed reverence filled the air. The faint scent of metal and electronics greeted him, mingling with the sterile, slightly metallic tang that was characteristic of starship interiors. He surveyed the familiar consoles, their smooth surfaces cool beneath his fingertips. The hum of technology surrounded him, a symphony of readiness that seemed to pulse in time with his own heartbeat. He paused, letting the moment wash over him, the soft vibration of the deck beneath his boots a tangible reminder of the living heart within the ship. The weight of his new responsibilities settled on his shoulders, a reassuring presence that grounded him in this pivotal moment.

With purpose, RJ continued to his ready room. The door slid open, revealing a refuge of quiet reflection. He entered and took a moment to take in the space—a shelter for decisions, alliances, and shaping futures.

Settling into his seat behind the desk, the soft hum of the ship’s systems provided a backdrop to his thoughts.

In this moment of solitude, RJ’s mind wandered, thoughts drifting to Captain Naris. Her memory lingered, a touching reminder of the sacrifices made for exploration and discovery. RJ’s gaze shifted to the stars beyond his viewport, a vast expanse promising both potential and uncertainty.

Now settled in his ready room, surrounded by echoes of those who came before, RJ understood that his journey was intertwined with that of the Dragonfly, a vessel reborn from the ashes, a symbol of renewal and resilience. The weight of his responsibilities settled on him, a mantle he bore with honor and determination. With a deep breath, he leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the stars, prepared to navigate the uncharted universe with the same unyielding resolve that had brought him this far.

As RJ leaned back in his chair, he felt a sense of calm wash over him. This moment of reflection was interrupted by a soft, rhythmic purring. Curious, he rose to find his faithful companion, a sleek, ebony-furred feline named Shadow, patiently waiting under his desk. “Howdy there, old pal,” he drawled, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Shadow was a creature of quiet companionship, mirroring RJ’s solitary nature. With piercing green eyes that seemed to hold wisdom beyond their years, Shadow was a source of comfort and connection for the seasoned officer. The two shared a deep bond, a silent understanding that transcended words. All they had was each other.

Shadow’s ebony fur brushed against RJ’s uniform as she climbed into his lap, her purring a comforting vibration against his legs. He met her piercing green eyes, a silent exchange of understanding passed between them. She nestled against him, a warm weight against his chest. This unusual bond was their sanctuary in the vast expanse of uncertainty. RJ’s hand found its way to her soft fur, fingers gently stroking as he felt the steady rhythm of her breath. In these moments, they were more than officer and pet; they were family bound by a shared journey through the unknown. Together, they faced the uncharted universe, finding solace not in words but in the silent comfort of each other’s presence.

Robert Abernathy stood looking out the large windows at his new home; taking a deep breath, he just stood there. The shadow of misfortune seemed to trail him, a mysterious companion that had cast a certain mystique around his persona. Yet, beneath the veneer of endurance, Abernathy carried a secret burden. With his left hand, he reached up, running his hand over the collar of his uniform.

His journey through Starfleet had been a tapestry woven with diverse threads. From a science officer to a starbase commander, Abernathy’s trajectory was marked by an insatiable thirst for knowledge and mastery. However, it was his time at Eos Station that would become a defining chapter in his journey. Stepping down from a commanding role, Abernathy once again embraced the mantle of Chief Science Officer, a transformation that melded his skill with an unquenchable curiosity for the unknown. His foray into scientific exploration was a testament to his unwavering commitment to growth and evolution.

And so, standing there in the shadow of the Dragonfly, Robert Abernathy found himself at a crossroads once more. The echoes of the Dragonfly’s call resonated with a familiar urgency, and he answered it with resolve. The decision was made. He would step aboard the newly refit USS Dragonfly, not as its commander, but as its Chief Science Officer. A role that encapsulated his insatiable hunger for discovery and his unyielding devotion to the principles of the Federation.

With determination in his step, the older man began the next phase of his life. The calm hum of the ship’s deck plating beneath his boots seemed to echo the steady beat of his heart. He knew it wouldn’t be an easy transition. The role of Captain, with its illustrious fourth pip, had long been the endpoint on the horizon for many careers. It was the summit that so many aspired to, the peak of leadership and authority.

And yet, as he stood on the edge of this accomplishment, Robert Abernathy found himself wrestling with conflicting emotions. The seriousness of command weighed heavily on his shoulders, a mantle of responsibility that pressed down upon him. The lives of an entire crew, the fate of a starbase, rested in his hands. It was a burden he had shouldered with diligence, but now, he couldn’t ignore the quiet voice questioning whether this was where he belonged.

He had climbed the ranks, proven his mettle. Each pip on his collar was a testament to his dedication and expertise. And yet, as the moment of ascension arrived, he couldn’t shake the sense that he was standing at the brink of a role that didn’t align with the very core of who he was. First and foremost, he was a Scientist. The stars, those distant pinpricks of light, had always been his companions in the darkest hours. They whispered secrets of the universe, offering glimpses into the boundless expanse of knowledge. Stepping down, he reasoned, wasn’t an admission of failure; it was an acknowledgment of self. It was a proclamation that his true calling lay not in the majesty of a Captain’s authority but in the ongoing quest to unravel the mysteries of the cosmos.

With a steadying breath, he squared his shoulders, ready to embrace the uncharted territory that awaited him as Chief Science Officer. It was a choice that spoke to the scientist within, a choice that would guide him toward the stars he had always yearned to understand. Robert approached the Security checkpoint; he could feel a mix of anticipation and nostalgia swirling within him. The Security Officer, a no-nonsense figure with a stern expression, looked up from his console as Abernathy approached.

“State your business, sir.” the Tellarite Officer spoke.

Abernathy just smiled, “Reporting for duty, Robert Abernathy, Chief Science Officer.”

“Abernathy, Chief Science Officer. Got it,” the Officer took a look at Abernathy. Robert could see the look in the man’s eyes. Why was a Captain serving as Chief of Science? It was a question he asked himself during this entire process.

Knowing what the man was thinking, Robert stated, “Yes, that’s correct. It’s time for a change.”

Security Officer raised an eyebrow, “That’s quite a change,” the Tellarite said abruptly.

Abernathy’s voice carried a reflective tone, “I’ve always been more of a scientist at heart. Sometimes, you have to follow where your passion leads you.”

“Fair enough,” the Security Officer nodded, “I suppose the Dragonfly is lucky to have you then.”

“Thank you, Ensign,” Robert replied. 

As he stepped through the corridors of the revitalized Dragonfly, Abernathy’s thoughts danced with excitement. He was acutely aware that each crew member bore the weight of their own stories and scars. And yet, he was equally conscious of the void left by those who could not return, a reminder of the unrelenting passage of time.

Captain Walker, who now held the reins of command, remained a mystery, a puzzle yet to be unraveled. Abernathy’s analytical mind churned with curiosity. As the ship hummed with activity around him, Abernathy’s gaze shifted to the viewport one final time, his thoughts reaching out to the infinite expanse beyond.

The voyage ahead held uncertainties, challenges, and the promise of discovery and growth. Like its namesake, the Dragonfly was poised to embark on a new odyssey: a journey of transformation, exploration, and renewal. And at its heart stood Captain Robert Abernathy, Chief Science Officer, a man who had undergone his own metamorphosis, a testament to the essence of change.