“Did you pack enough clean underwear?” the demand was abrupt, and interrupted Asher’s contemplation of the ships out of the huge windows. There were ships of all sizes and classes out there, but one of them was his. His first posting after the academy, and as such, the most important ship out there of all of them.

He rolled his eyes and shot a side look at his companion. “Yes Dad, I packed enough clean underwear.”

Thais Thane grunted in the back of his throat, and adjusted the pack over one broad shoulder. He was perhaps a hair shorter than Ash was now his son had stopped growing, but much broader in the shoulders. “Just checking. You know wh—“

“Yeah, yeah…” Asher full on rolled his eyes this time. “Seriously. I ran out of pants on camp when I was five! Do we have to have this every time?”

Thais shot him a look. It wasn’t the look of a starfleet commander, even though he had three shiny pips on his collar, but the warning look of a dad then their kid was tap-dancing on their last nerve. It was a look Ash had seen a lot in his life. An awful lot. 

“Okay, and you have your transfer orders?” Thais demanded. 

Ash refrained from sighing, and nodded, tapping his pack. His orders were on his padd, safely tucked away. Not that he needed a physical, or digital, copy. His orders to report for duty to the USS Manticore were in the system. 

“Yes Dad, I have my orders,” he said as they reached a turbolift bank. The Manticore was listed as this section, while his father’s posting, the USS Resolute, was over the other side. 

“Okay, good. And you know who—“

Asher cut him off. “My department head is Lieutenant Kovash, the chief helm officer of the Manticore. I have time to find my quarters and drop my gear before I have to head up to the bridge and report for duty.” 

He arched his eyebrow as they waited for the turbolift. “Unless you’d like to hold my hand to make sure I get to the right ship?”

“Cheeky pup,” Thais growled and, reaching out, hauled Ash in for a quick bear hug. “Just keep your head down, do your job. Mason’s a good guy, and a great captain.”

Ash nodded, swallowing his nerves. The fact that Raan Mason was his commanding officer wasn’t as scary as all hell, honestly. “Hey, you won’t be far away. The Resolute is in the same squadron, so we’ll be able to grab dinner occasionally, won’t we?” 

Thais grinned as he released his son. “Abso-bloody-lutely. And make sure you call me later, okay?”

“Yes Commader Executive Officer, sir!” Ash grinned as he snapped off a  llanarian salute. He’d never been in the military of his home planet, but his dad had been a long time ago, during the war. 

“Go on, get on with you!” Thais grumbled roughly, reaching out to ruffle Ash’s hair, which elicited a squeak from the tall young ensign. 

“Dad!” he complained, looking around. But no one was paying attention to them thankfully. Even though the corridors were packed, it seemed everyone was too busy heading where they needed to go to pay any attention to Asher and his dad. 

“Love you, son” Thais threw back with a wink, then turned to head off down the corridor. “Don’t forget to call! And call your mother!”

“Will do!” Ash chuckled to himself as the lift doors opened and he stepped inside. There was another ensign in there already, who looked up at Asher’s entry. He was young, and shorter than Ash. Human for a guess. 

“Hey.” He nodded in acknowledgement, then spotted the pack over the other ensign’s shoulder. 

“Transferring? Me too,” he said, lifting a shoulder to indicate his pack and ordered the level he needed from the computer. 

The human gave a tight smile. It was an expression Asher had come to recognise on the younger members of the Fleet, ones who had been assimilated by the Borg during Frontier Day. He was thankful he’d been out of range, protected from the signal. 

“Yeah, I’m transferring.” Then he shrugged. “Well, kind of. Most of my old ship’s crew have already transferred with our Captain to a new ship.”

“Oh? They transferred over before you?” He paused, then added quickly. “My apologies, none of my business. Nerves. My new CO is like a big deal where I’m from.”

The other ensign shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I was back on Earth for a funeral. That’s why I’m late.”

Oh shit. Ash could have kicked himself. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he mumbled quickly. 

“Thanks.” Again that tight smile. “My twin, so cuts a little deeper.”

Ash felt like an absolute bastard and looked awkwardly at his feet. At least, the physical versions, metaphorically, he’d crammed both size thirteens right in his fool mouth. 

But then the other guy gave him an out. “What did you mean your new CO is a big deal where you’re from?” he asked, looking at Ash in curiosity as the lift came to a stop and the door opened in front of them. 

“Oh, we had this massive war years ago,” Ash explained as they headed down the corridor. Just like the lower levels, it was heaving with crew making their transfers but given his size, people tended to move out of the way for him. “And he was supposed to be our leader but his…” Shit, don’t say triplet, he warned himself quickly. “but his brother wanted to lead instead and started killing people. So big war, we won and my new CO is like, a war hero…”

He paused as they turned a corner, and there she was, the USS Manticore. 

“Isn’t she beautiful,” he murmured in awe, his gaze tracing her dangerous lines. The Manticore class was everything he’d ever dreamed of in a first assignment. It was one of the more tactical ships in the fleet, and for an ensign right out of the academy… a sign that his career was on the right track. “Imagine flying something like that…”

His companion chuckled. “I take it that you’re helm from that?”

Ash nodded, sliding the human a sideways glance. “Yeah, you?”

“Command yeoman,” came the answer. Then, “Wait… are you assigned to the Manticore as well?”

“Yeah.” He turned to find himself the object of scrutiny. 

“Tall… with that size,” the ensign muttered. “You’ve got to be Llanarian for sure.”

Ash grinned. “Yeah. Was it that much of a giveaway?”

“Yeah, well… that and the fact I know Captain Mason’s history. I’m Rennox,” he announced, holding out a hand as they queued for transport over to the Manticore. “The captain saved my life. A couple of times actually. Welcome to the Manticore crew.”

Mason left the bridge of the Resolute with a small pang somewhere in the middle of his broad chest. The little ship had treated him well, and he was a little loathe to leave her, but command had seen fit to reassign him to command of the Manticore. A new ship, command of a squadron… even if it was a very small one. 

Which meant he wouldn’t really be leaving the Resolute. Not really. She, or at least her CO, would be under his command anyway. He paused for a moment, a frown creasing his brow. He still hadn’t worked Reese-Riggs out yet. The guy was an asshole, a total player and he’d been absolutely going to beat him to a pulp for sleeping with Ilona. But… something didn’t sit right. While he knew for sure his ex had cheated on him, RJ just wasn’t her type. 

Shaking his head, he put that from his mind and carried on walking. He should head straight for the transporter room and get his ass over to the Manticore because his own XO was about to arrive, but instead he found himself heading down to the replicator on deck four. 

“Okay,” he murmured, a small smile curving his lips as the machine cheeped at him, as though in welcome. “Give me two for the road.”

He didn’t bother placing an actual order. The replicators on the Resolute had long ago stopped listening to him and he always ended up with the same thing. Some kind of sweet, coffee-chocolately thing with cream and sprinkles. It was hideously sweet and not his preferred black-as-his-soul coffee, but… he’d kind of gotten used to it. 

The drinks materialized and he took them off the plate. “Thank you,” he said, as he turned away, heading for the transporter room as he sipped at one of them. Which meant he didn’t see the activity across the screen of the padd poking out of his thigh pocket, nor the answering soft cheep of the replicator as he walked away.

————

Mason stepped off the transporter pad on the Manticore, nodding to the transporter operative as he walked by. With a new ship came a new crew, which meant his had increased from just under a hundred to around two fifty, so yeah… he was going to be learning names for a while.  

It didn’t take him long to reach the bridge, and he nodded as some enterprising soul called out ‘captain on the bridge’. Yeah, new crew. That was one thing that was getting nixed, and fast. 

Several members of the bridge crew turned as he walked onto the bridge, and his gaze focused on the two he was looking for, but he also noticed a third. Asher Thane stood next to Kovash, his tall, lanky frame dwarfing the rivan woman as she read him the riot act about ‘her’ helm console. 

Gods… he hadn’t seen Asher for a few years, the lad had grown. He had to be nearly as tall as Mason now. 

“Welcome aboard, Captain Mason,” Rennox stood by the command chairs, hands clasped behind his back. The kid looked good, if a little subdued. Not at all like the broken mess he’d found when older survivors of Frontier Day had returned to the Resolute. 

Another officer, a commander in red, stood next to him. Mason blinked in surprise. Most species couldn’t match a llanarian for height or muscle mass, so he was used to being one of the largest people on a ship, but his next XO was possible a hair taller, while Raan was a shade wider.

“Captain Mason,” the commander said, his deep voice pulling at something in the center of Mason’s chest, and offered his hand. “Commander Reid, your new executive officer.”

Mason shook, pleased to note the strength in Reid’s hand and the fact that he didn’t bother to try and prove he had a stronger grip or any pissing contest moves like that. 

“A pleasure to meet you. You’ve already met our command yeoman, Rennox,” he said, a statement rather than a question as he handed off the untouched drink to Rennox. “My apologies, I didn’t realise that you would already be here or I would have brought you one as well.”

Reid shook his head, eyeing the sprinkle-laden drink. “No worries. I’m good, thank you.”

Mason inclined his head. “Okay, since you’re here early, let’s walk and talk. I haven’t toured the ship yet, so let’s get that done before we head out,” he said as he turned for the door. 

“Kovash, you have the bridge,” he called over his shoulder, getting a thumbs up from the pilot as he and his command team left the bridge.  

“Any idea what this Anderson wants?” RJ asked as he and Mason walked down the corridor on Starbase 86, toward the new TFXO’s office.

“Nope.” Mason’s expression didn’t alter, but then he relaxed a little at RJ’s sideways glance. 

As irritating as the guy was, Mason knew he was rock-solid in a crisis. He’d really thought the guy would cut and run on Arriana against the Jem’Hadar, and then again during Frontier Day, but he hadn’t. In fact, both times he’d had Mason’s back.

“I expect he’s going to assign us to a new patrol route.” 

“No, it can’t be that.” RJ frowned. “That would just be a comm call, this must be something else.”

Mason shrugged. “Possibly, but it could also be because of the new squadron.”

“Yeah…” RJ’s look was sharp. “About that. How did I get assigned to the Mant—“ 

Mason cut him off by stepping in front of him, right into his personal space. RJ pulled up short before they collided. “We’re here,” Mason said in a low voice. “When we’re in there, throw him off. I need to get some alterations for the Manticore authorised.”

“Oh?” He had all of RJ’s attention now, those blue eyes sharp and focused. 

“Why not just request them?” Then his eyes widened. “You—“

“Throw him off,” Mason ordered in a low voice as he stepped backward, and the door to the office opened. With a final, hard look, he stepped through and smiled at the yeoman waiting for them. 

“Captain’s Mason and Reese-Riggs to see Captain Anderson.”

“The Captain is expecting you. Head on in,” The Yeoman replied with a smile. 

“Thank you.” Mason inclined his head, and carried on, RJ right on his heels. He sensed the glare boring into the back of his head but ignored it in favour of scanning the room. 

“Captain Anderson,” he nodded to the room’s sole occupant. “Mason and Reese-Riggs. You wanted to see us?“

Keith was standing across from his desk at the bookshelf, setting some old paper books on the shelf. He looked over at the two captains and offered them a smile, “Mason, Reese-Riggs. Good to meet you in person,” He said, setting the stacks of books left in his arms on the shelf and dusting his hands on his pants before he stepped over to them and offered a hand shake, “Sorry to pull you back to the station for a bit, but I appreciate the time.”

“Likewise, Captain,” Mason gave a small smile in return as he shook Anderson’s hand, sizing him up at the same time. He’d scanned the guy’s personnel file before heading over here. “And I’m glad you did, it’s always good to put a face to the name.”

He stepped aside for RJ, hands behind his back in parade rest. True to form, RJ’s smile was wide and charming. 

“Ignore grumpy,” he said. “He got out of bed the wrong side this morning. Either that or someone was using his favourite weights in the gym.” 

“There is simply no greater offense,” Keith replied, shaking Reese-Riggs’ hand as well and giving both men a disarming smile. “Have a seat, guys. Can I get you a drink?” 

“Coffee, please, black,” Mason said longingly. “The replicators on the Manticore are on the fritz,” he explained. “They only serve drinks with sprinkles.”

“Oh, I’m all for the sprinkles,” RJ smiled, watching Keith with a smile. “But I’m easy, whatever you’re having is fine.”

Keith stopped short on his walk to the replicator and narrowed his eyes at Mason, a grin on his face, “Yeah… I’ll have the Starbase Engineering team take a look at that for you,” He said, chuckling a bit. 

“What about you?” He said, nodding to Reese-Riggs. 

“Cappucino,” RJ replied. “Thank you. And it’s funny… because the Resolute has the sprinkle problem as well.” He turned to look at Mason accusingly. “Did your engineer screw with them before he left?”

“I’ll sort out the sprinkles,” Keith said, chuckling before telling the replicator their orders. “How are things going? I know there’s been… a lot to absorb lately. This stuff hasn’t been in the handbook,” He said, taking the two drinks and handing them to the other Captains before stepping back over for his own and then taking a seat behind his desk. 

Mason cradled the mug in his large hands almost reverently. The coffee was black and strong enough to singe his nostril hairs. It was heaven. 

“There has been a lot to absorb,” he admitted, his voice a little more gravelly than before. “We lost a lot of good people and a fair few of my crew are going to need support for a fair while. But we’re getting there, we have good systems in place so the Manticore squadron is good to go… although I do have a few requests to make before we leave.”

RJ stayed silent and sipped his drink. He was just glad to be back in uniform, and plus, technically Mason was his superior officer. 

“Okay,” Keith said, leaning back and sipping his own drink. “What do you have for me?” 

Mason shot RJ a glance, but the asshole just sat there, that damned smirk on his face. This was not going to plan at all, an unusual occurrence for Mason. So he reverted to type. Frontal assault. 

“The Manticore is at its heart a warship,” he said bluntly. “I’d like permission to switch out the diplomatic suites to facilitate a heavier payload.”

Keith cleared his throat and sat back, regarding the man across from him with curiosity, “So… you want to strip out the Diplomatic suites… for… bigger guns?” He asked. 

Mason nodded. “Yes.”

RJ moved, crossing one leg over the other and bringing attention to himself without a word. Even though he was sat, his posture was best described as a lounge. “Let’s be real about this. Those suites are just going to gather dust with Captain Sunshine here, and I’m more than happy to host any diplomatic parties on the Resolute…”

Keith chuckled at that, but shook his head, “Look, I fully understand that no one likes the diplomatic missions. They’re long, they’re arduous, they’re absolutely mind numbing… but Starfleet, at its core, is a diplomatic organization, Mason. Besides, I’d think someone with your background would want to help in that capacity,” Keith replied. 

Mason’s expression set, just for a split second before he got it under control. He was out of practise, there had been a time when he wouldn’t have reacted. 

“Is that the stock uniform you’re wearing?” RJ asked, taking another sip of his drink. “Or have you had it tailored? It fits you really well.”

Keith didn’t hide the smirk, “Stock. I’m built like a Starfleet Officer, and I know I look damn good in it,” He quipped back. “Give us a minute, Captain Reese-Riggs. Don’t go too far,” Keith said, nodding toward the door. 

He hadn’t missed the flicker on Mason’s face. It was only a minute, but there was something there that he needed to discuss in private. 

“Of course,” RJ blinked but recovered quickly, grinning as he levered himself out of the chair with insolent grace and headed for the door. He cast a look back quickly, at Mason, his expression unreadable, then the door closed behind him. 

Mason didn’t say anything, letting the silence fill the room as he sized Anderson up. Let a silence develop and people talked, often more than they intended to. 

“So why did it make you squirm a little when I mentioned your background?” Keith asked, ignoring the steely look Mason was giving him. It wasn’t angry, but it was definitely stubborn. 

“Squirm?” Mason winged an eyebrow up. “I don’t think anyone’s accused me of squirming since I was a toddler.” 

“Well,” Keith said with a smirk, “I doubt many people would have noticed to be honest, but I am very observant. Including observing the fact that you ignored my original question.”

Mason gave him a blinding smile, almost as charming as RJ’s. “Which question was that?”

Keith thought about continuing the cat and mouse, but opted to go ahead and pounce, “You’re a diplomat. Big fancy pants from your home world, high ranking, with all the trimmings and trappings of being a politician. You have everything you need to be a diplomatic force in the fleet, but you hide it behind a bullet-minded knuckledragger and I don’t understand why,” he said, bluntly.

Mason leaned back in his chair, not seeing the point in maintaining the rigid soldier posture now the real guns were out. “You did your homework,” he said, oddly charmed by the blunt approach. Most people didn’t try it with him. “You’re observant though. Tell me why.”

“No,” Keith replied. “I have my theories, but I want to hear it from you,” He said.

Keith sat his coffee down and leaned forward, looking the man in front of him dead in the eyes, “See, I feel like you and I aren’t too different at the core, and I think we could work really well together. And I’m happy to keep your secrets for you, but you can’t keep them from me. You have to trust me, and it starts here,” He said, simply. “That’s why I sent your cohort away, so what we say here can be between us.” 

“And believe me,” He said, before Mason could talk, “I’m well aware the danger I’m putting my yoeman in by doing so,” He said, grinning just a bit at Mason.

“You’re good,” Mason grunted, maybe a little begrudgingly, but not many people had bested him quite so easily, or seen through him so quickly. 

“I’m a good soldier,” he said, matching Keith look for look. “And yes, I’m trained in politics and diplomacy… but make no mistake, I am not a good man. This,” he motioned to himself in his starfleet uniform. “The captain act, is just that, an act. I follow the rules,” he said bluntly. “Because I choose to, but I could just as easily choose not to,” he added, well aware it could tank his career. “Do you really want to put someone like that in charge of high level diplomatic negotiations?”

Keith let the silence linger for a minute before he sat back in his chair, “First of all, I don’t believe that. Anyone can choose to follow those rules or not, but it takes a choice and you made yours. It also takes a good man to stand up for someone who’s getting railroaded for something stupid,” Keith said. 

He let that linger a moment before adding, “Word gets around.”

“Yeah, well…” Mason shrugged. “He’s an idiot, but there’s something else going on there.”

He sighed. “I’m not getting those extra weapons, am I?” 

Keith leaned back further in his chair with a grin, “You’ve got a couple secondary science labs that we could probably repurpose for munitions, but you’re keeping the diplomatic quarters. And you’re going to use ‘em,” He answered.

“And, incidentally, I agree with you about RJ. Anything I can do to help in that front, let me know,” He replied. 

He leaned over and tapped the call button, “Elanore, would you please send Captain Reese-Riggs back in?” 

“You knew,” Mason said before the door opened.

“That RJ was harassing my yeoman? Oh yeah, I knew,” Keith said with a wink. “I know lots of things.” 

That worried Mason, rather a bit and he decided there and then he never wanted to be on the opposite side to Anderson in any conflict. 

The door swished open and RJ walked back in. His eyes narrowed as he clocked the body language in the room, and he instantly went on the offensive. 

“You’re right, you do look good in that. You’ll have to let me in on your workout regime.” 

“Sit down, Captain, or I’m going to send you for a cold shower,” Keith replied, rolling his eyes. “Everything is all good, right Mason?” 

Mason nodded. “We’re good, yeah.” 

RJ looked between the two of them, trying to figure what had changed and where the balance of power in the room was now. He’d have said before it was Mason. The guy had more secrets than Pandora’s box, but… Anderson wasn’t the pushover fleet officer he’d initially assumed him to be. Nor had he been flustered by his flirting. That made RJ consider him more closely. 

He sat, still watching them both. 

“Now, I called you guys here because I need to adjust some things with how we’re running. After everything with the uh… Breen in the Deneb sector, we’re adjusting our patrol routes and I want to send you guys along a different route than normal,” He explained. 

Mason inclined his head. “Which route? Given you’re assigning us, then I’m assuming we’re either sending a message, or the route poses significant risks that other ships are not suited for.”

“A little bit of both,” Keith admitted. “We’re going to have you guys here,” He said, pulling up a holodisplay of the region. “These areas were deemed by Starfleet Intelligence as being the highest likelihood of Breen incursion. We want to make sure that if they do come through, we’ve got the firepower in place to stop them,” He explained. 

Both RJ and Mason leaned forward slightly to study the route, one coldly analytical and the joking manner falling away from the other. 

“We’re going to need to operate in tandem in some of these areas. The Resolute to recce, and the Manticore in backup,” Mason mused, but then nodded and looked at Keith again. “When do we leave?”

“Now,” Keith replied. “SFI is concerned that a Breen retaliation is a strong possibility.” 

Mason tilted his head slightly. Both ships were ready to go, he’d just have to go find a certain crew member if he’d hit the bar. “Not a problem, we’ll be ready to leave within the hour. Is there anything else you need from us?”

“Just keep me posted,” Keith replied. “And let me know if you need anything,” He said, then looked over at Mason, “Anything. Okay?” 

“How about a drink when we get back?” RJ interjected smoothly, offering a cheeky grin as they stood. 

“Captain, you couldn’t handle a drink with me,” Keith replied with a smirk, “But you’re welcome to try.” 

“It’s a date then,” RJ quipped back. 

“Come on,” Mason growled, already herding him out. “Before the Captain throws you in the brig for harrassment.”

“It’d be straight to the airlock with him. He’d enjoy the brig too much,” Keith replied, conversationally. “Good luck out there, Captains!” 

The door was just sliding closed as RJ turned and threw back over his shoulder. “Only if handcuffs are involved!” 

Keith sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Those two are gonna be trouble,” He said with a chuckle. 

When Mason and RJ left Anderson’s office, Raan didn’t follow the other captain down to the docking arms. Instead, after sending a message to his new XO to get the ship ready for the off, he hung a left and went in search of the bars. 

The problem was, even though SB86 an Aurora class and therefore one of the smallest types of spacedock, she was still a spacedock and that meant there were a hell of a lot of bars. 

And he had an hour before they left. 

“Okay,” he murmured to himself as he started to walk, checking out the frontages as he went. “Where are you likely to be?”

They had this every time they hit a base, spacedock, outpost, or went dirtside. Any little bit of leave time and at least one of two things happened before they pushed off again; he either had to fetch Kovash from the brig, or Bennett from a bar. 

He groaned under his breath and rubbed the back of his neck, still checking bars out. None of them were quite right. He’d known Bennett since they were kids, so he knew exactly the kind of bar he’d go for.  

Ironically, that choice had nothing to do with the alcohol they served. He sped up, aware of the ticking clock. 

“I’m so kicking your ass for this, Dayne,” he grumbled under his breath as he started to jog. He hated running, loathed it with the passion of a thousand fiery suns. He was way too big a frame to run easily, even though he ran every day. Safely in the gym on a treadmill after he’d nearly squashed an ensign in the Resolute corridors on his morning run. 

He kept an eye out to make sure he didn’t run into or over anyone, and ducked every now and then to look through the doors of any bars that looked promising. They were all second-rate, and dodgy looking ones. The type that, if this hadn’t been a starfleet installation, you’d avoid in case you woke up in an ice bath in the morning with a kidney missing. 

It took him five more minutes to find the right bar. He almost missed it, nearly past the bar before he clocked the dark shadow slumped over the table at the back. Skidding to a stop, he changed direction and headed in. 

“How many has he had?” he asked the bartender as he walked through. The guy held up four fingers. Raan’s head snapped back around as he assessed the size of the mug in front of Dayne. Big enough for four espressos. Shit. This one was going to be a rough one. 

Keith had decided to give himself a change of scenery after Mason and RJ had left, and found himself strolling the station, taking in the sites and clocking a few good restaurants – greasy spoon types that could cure any hangover – that he wanted to try later. He’d only been to 86 a couple times, and both were to refuel and for some minor repairs to the Asger, so it wasn’t some place he was familiar with. Seemed like he needed to be now though, since it was definitely going to be home for a while. 

He was considering calling it a night, grabbing some food from one of the various dives he’d spotted, and turning in when Mason’s massive frame jogging by had caught his eye. He thought about letting it go. After all, he was technically off duty. Curiosity got the best of him, though, and he turned to follow the man, dropping into a brisk clip himself to keep up. 

He seemed to be looking for something, but Keith didn’t know what. Since they were due out within an hour, he had a feeling it was probably a crew member. He slowed when Mason found where he was going and ducked into a crappy bar, and followed him in at a distance. 

Reaching out, Raan moved the mug safely out of the way. Then he stepped back, keeping his weight on the balls of his feet as he checked the space around the big engineer slumped over the table, seemingly unconscious. He wasn’t. Raan knew better than that. 

 Keith didn’t make himself known. He slipped into a booth in the corner to watch… wasn’t like him to spy on folks, but something about this caught his interest. Mason was a different kind of guy, and he was curious how this whole scenario would play out. 

Okay, there was enough room they wouldn’t trash any furniture. Raan leaned in, just by Dayne’s ear and barked, “Bennett! Up and att’em, soldier!”

Bennett came up swinging, his roar rattling the windows at the front of the bar. Raan side-stepped his wild swings with the ease of long practise, wrapping a hard arm around the engineer’s and up around the back of his neck. Locking his arm out and holding him in place. 

“I got you, big guy,” he murmured, holding onto the bucking bronco Dayne had become. The engineer, still out of it, roared and tried to throw him off, but this wasn’t the first time they’d done this particular dance. He kept his balance, keeping Dayne in place. “We’re not there. We’re on SB86. You’re Lieutenant Commander Dayne Bennett, Chief engineer on the Manticore.” 

Keith almost got up to help, but held steady, impressed by Raan’s ability to manage what was apparently a hell of a case of PTSD. 

He didn’t know what made him look up, normally he kept his attention firmly on Dayne when he was like this, but he did, and locked eyes with Anderson, in a booth opposite. 

“He’ll be fine,” he said, feeling the shift in Dayne’s balance. “He’ll be out of it in… now.”

Dayne went limp, like a puppet with its strings cut. Raan manhandled him over a shoulder with a grunt and looked at Anderson again. “He’s a chronic insomniac.”

Keith nodded, “Need a hand?” He asked, standing and walking over toward Mason. “Not exactly a small dude,” He said with a smirk. 

“That he isn’t. He’s put some muscle on, so he’s been hitting the gym as well. I swear he does it on purpose.” Raan snorted, hauling Dayne out from behind the table. No breakages and some help carrying him, today really was looking up. “Thank you,” he added, offering a small quirk of a smile.  

“No problem,” Keith replied, sliding up under the limp man’s other arm. “Christ…  you’re not kidding. He’s heavier than he looks, and that’s saying something,” He quipped with a chuckle. 

Raan chuckled. “That’s llanarians for you. We build ‘em big.” He looked at the bartender as they walked out of the bar, Dayne between them. “Next time he comes in,” he said. “No coffee. Ever. Understood?” 

The bartender nodded, still pale, but didn’t argue. 

Raan managed a look around Dayne at Anderson. “You just happened to be in the same bar?”

“Yeah, cuz I was following you,” Anderson replied with a grin. “Which… isn’t how my day started, but then I saw you running down the promenade and my curiosity got the better of me,” He explained, giving as much of a shrug as he could under the weight of the big man they were carrying. 

“Fair comment,” Raan shouldered as much of Dayne’s weight as he could. Then considered just dropping him on the deck when he snored lightly. 

“I need to get him back to the ship, and into his quarters. He’ll sleep it off,” he explained. Then he’d be awake for something like four days straight. “We fought in the same war. Dayne had to pull his sister from the wreck of a tank.” 

Keith nodded, “That doesn’t sound pleasant,” he said, knowing that had to be the understatement of the century. “Also… did you say coffee? I’m not up on my llanarians physiology… something I’m missing there?”

Raan grinned, realising that Keith was probably thinking he’d offered the equivalent of a whisky on the rocks when Raan had been on duty. “Nope. Dayne just drinks enough of the stuff to come out the other side of sober. Makes him a lot tweaky, then he passes out. Hits quicker than alcohol, apparently. We need a lot of that to get drunk, but that’s more a mass thing. Don’t drink llanarian brandy,” he warned quickly. “It’ll seriously knock you on your arse.”

Keith laughed at that, “That’s impressive,” He admitted. “And duly noted. Although, maybe one night for fun I’ll give it a try,” He said, chuckling. 

“You know… I have to ask… Is this man fit for duty?” He asked, as carefully as he knew how. 

“Not currently.” Raan’s reply was quick and honest. “Which is why he’s never rostered on duty when we ship out. It’s always his second in command. Six hours and he’ll be good for days.” 

They reached the lift and managed to maneuver the three of them in there. Sensibly, the group of ensigns who had been planning to take the same one decided to wait. 

“He’s had my back for years,” he said, watching Keith’s expression carefully. “And I’m not cutting him loose because of how he deals with his demons when I can work around it.”

Keith nodded, leaning back against the wall a bit for support, “Works for me. So long as you’re aware and can handle it, that’s fine.” 

“I can handle him.” Relief washed through Raan. It was unexpected, since normally he didn’t think much on what people thought of him. For some reason though, this was different. It mattered to him what Keith thought. 

“I have llanarian brandy,” he said, then grinned. “But there’s no way I’m putting you and RJ anywhere near each other when drinking it.” 

Keith laughed at that, but nodded. “RJ is going to be very disappointed that he’s not my type,” Keith said with a chuckle. “I just want to see how bad he gets when he’s drinking,” He said with a laugh. “Off the record, of course.”

Raan barked a laugh. “Oh gods, me too. Don’t worry, he’ll be hankering after someone else in a day or so. You should have seen him with my chief helm, right up to the point she threatened to turn him into a pretzel. When’s the next formal function? I say we get him drunk and watch from a safe distance.”  

Keith laughed again at that, “Look, I can’t officially be a part of anything like that at an official function,” He said, then shrugged a little, “Unofficially, though, I could definitely help make that happen.”

“Official?” Raan gave it his best innocent look. “Nothing to do with us, honestly. He’s got form, after all…” He grinned, knowing full well he’d step in before RJ got himself in too much trouble. And he figured Keith would as well. 

The lift deposited them at the docking level, and he looked along the corridor. It wasn’t far to the Manticore’s berth. 

“Come on, big guy,” he said, settling Dayne’s arm more firmly over his shoulder. “Let’s get you settled. You still good?” he asked Keith, realizing that they were definitely cutting into his off-duty time.

“Oh, I’m in this now,” Keith said, laughing as he adjusted Dayne’s arm on his shoulders. “Let’s get him bunked down.” 

It didn’t take them long to get him aboard, but they did get a fair few odd looks as they half-carried, half-dragged the engineer through the corridors and found his quarters. 

“In you go,” Raan said, dropping him on the bed and taking the time to remove his boots, setting them down where Dayne would reach them if the red alert went off. 

He chuckled as the engineer promptly turned over and started to snore. “And that,” he told Keith as they left. “Is why he’s not married. One of the reasons, anyway.” 

“The snoring, or the caffeine induced insomnia?” Keith asked with a wry grin. “Ladies are just lining up for that?” He asked as he fell into step with his fellow Captain in the corridor. 

“Both,” Raan shook his head. “And he’s been known to wash his socks in the sink. But, that was in a trench, so I guess he gets a pass.” 

He’d automatically turned to head up to the bridge, but paused. His own quarters were on the same level. “Can I offer you a drink this time? Not llanarian brandy, this time anyway…”

Keith pondered it for a minute, then shrugged, “Sure. Drink with a friend sounds better than drink at a bar, anyway,” He replied, grinning. 

Raan returned the grin, a quick flash of white teeth, and led the way. His quarters, when they walked in, were a mess of transit boxes. 

“Apologies for the mess.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, then pushed a few boxes out of the way, clearing the area around the lounge chairs so they could sit down. “I only moved in a few days ago…” 

He didn’t need to say the rest. Taking on a new command was a huge undertaking so things like unpacking often fell by the wayside. So far he’d only managed to open one box, of books and trinkets he hadn’t had room for in the tiny spaces of the Resolute. There were some books from home and a few pictures on the shelves. 

“What can I get you?” Indicating the replicator, or the drinks cabinet next to it. Keith was off duty now, even if Raan wasn’t. 

“Ah, I’ll keep it tidy since you have to ship out soon,” Keith said with a grin, already moving toward the books. “How about a raktajino?” He asked, turning away to look over the spines of the books that had made their way out of Raan’s boxes. 

Raan tensed up a little at the pictures that were around those books. They were mostly of his family, but there were a few of Thais and his son. And one of Raan and Thais in llanarian formal dress. Ilona had had real issues with the llanarian tradition of multiple marriages, which had led to their divorce. Although, to be fair, he hadn’t explicitly told her that he was married. 

He turned his attention to the replicator. “I warn you though, it may end up with sprinkles…” 

He ordered two raktajino’s, then glared at the machine when they turned out perfect. 

“You’re in luck,” he said as he carried them over. “It seems to be behaving.”

“Damn,” Keith said with a chuckle as he took the mug. “I’ve always said what raktajino needs is a good splash of rainbow sprinkles,” He joked. “I thought I was the only person that lugged actual books around with him in Starfleet,” He said, nodding to the shelf. 

Raan’s attention was on Keith’s hands on the mug rather than the books, and he gave a small smile, refocusing. 

“Yeah, I did sense a kindred spirit when I saw the books in your office,” he admitted. “Mine are mostly political and diplomatic studies from home.” 

He ignored the group of romances at the end. They were written in llanarian cuneiform, so maybe Keith wouldn’t realise what they were. 

Keith smiled, “Yours makes you sound way smarter than I,” He admitted with a laugh. “Almost everything I’ve got is old earth pulp stuff and bad fiction,” He explained. “I love it, though.” 

“Is this llanarian?” Keith asked, pointing at one of the romance books. “It’s an amazing script.” 

Raan nodded, heat across his cheeks that he ignored. Where the hell was his bloody poise around this guy? 

“That’s like a… less formal language? Designed to be quick to scribe,” he explained. “High llanarian is more illustrative.” He frowned, trying to think if he recalled anything similar from Earth. “I’m not well versed in earth history so I don’t know if there’s a parallel.” 

“Sounds like the illuminated manuscripts from the middle ages. You had normal script, but then the more formal books had extra filigree and decoration to them. Very ornate and … almost gaudy?” Keith offered, pointing to one of the books, “May I?” 

“Of course.” Raan blew across the top of his coffee, not fancying getting a burnt lip like the first time he’d tried this stuff. “And yes, that’s it. Gold leaf and extra decorations. There was a couple of hundred years where the scribes put cats on everything for some reason.” 

He watched as Keith picked up the book, and turned it over. The cover was fairly innocuous, which was the reason he’d picked up that imprint, but as soon as he opened the book, the secondary cover inside would very clearly state what kind of book it was. 

Unfortunately, Keith did exactly that, and let out a chuckle. “I see some things are universal,” He said, giving the other man a grin.

“You found my guilty little secret,” Raan chuckled. “One of them, anyway. You did say you wanted to know.” 

Keith grinned and shook his head, “I feel like this is small potatoes on the secrets list,” He said, putting the book back on the shelf. “Had an ex girlfriend that made me read a couple of her steamy novels like that. They’re actually not bad,” He admitted with a laugh. “But if you ever tell anyone I said that, I’ll have you demoted… unofficially.”

“Oh… just unofficially, is it?” Raan couldn’t remember smiling so much. Not recently anyway. He filed the information about the steamy novels away though. “So small potatoes, huh?” He leaned back, arm spread over the back of the couch. “I’m an open book, do your worst. Ask away. But then I get to ask a question.” 

“Oh, that’s dangerous,” Keith said with a devilish grin. “I’m not shy.” 

Raan winked. “Neither am I.”

Keith laughed, “Jesus… why do I feel like I’m about to get myself in trouble?”

He walked over to the chair across from Raan and sat in it, crossing his legs and getting comfortable, “Okay, fine. Big guns. Why do you hide your past. Seems like it would help you out there to me.” He asked, bluntly. 

Raan sat for a moment, thinking not about the question, but the man asking it. Why he was asking didn’t matter, the fact that he’d asked for Raan’s trust did. 

When he answered, it was the bald truth. 

“Because I caused a war,” he said, his voice low. “I didn’t fire the first shot, but I did fire the last one. I killed a man in cold blood to end it. That’s not a past anyone wants front and center.”

Keith regarded the man for a moment, over a sip of raktajino, “Oh, there’s going to be follow ups on that one, but deals a deal. Your turn,” He said after a moment, his tone was still light and easy, no change in body language. That was a hell of an answer, but he’d told the man he could trust him. He wasn’t about to react in a way that could make it seem like he couldn’t. 

Raan considered his own drink for a moment, then looked up. He needed something light, after his own confession. “Okay. You said RJ’s not your type. What is?” 

Keith laughed, “I don’t know, to be honest. I never thought I had a type,” He admitted. “I like interesting people. Generally women, but that’s not to say there wouldn’t be a man that could catch my interest,” He said with a shrug. “RJ just tries too hard,” He said with a laugh. “Like an overactive puppy in need of a squirt bottle.” 

Raan almost snorted his coffee and sat forward quickly so he didn’t inadvertently spill any on himself. “Yeah, he is. Maybe he’ll grow up someday. And interesting people is a good type to have. I made that mistake with my ex-wife. Pretty to look at, dull as dishwater on a personal level,” he admitted with a grimace. “Or at the least, we didn’t have enough in common to have a decent conversation.” 

Keith chuckled at that, “That’s a key,” He said, nodding. “I dated a woman for a few months. Beautiful, really sweet. Really liked spending time with her but… it got so dull. We wound up parting ways and she got with a buddy of mine, and they were locked in from day one. She was the most interesting person in the world,” He said. 

Abruptly, Keith sat up for a second and made a face, reaching around and putting his hand at the small of his back.

Raan stilled. “You okay?” he asked, reaching out and putting his mug down on the side table. Guilt hit him hard and fast. Dayne was an utter lump, he should have just slung him over a shoulder. 

“Yeah,” Keith said with a bit of a grunt, setting his own mug down and standing up and stretching some, “Sorry… I was in a pretty bad accident at the academy. Almost ended my career,” He explained. “Well… almost ended my life, if I’m honest,” He said, with a wry chuckle. “But I’ve got a neural amplifier in my spine to keep me running and sometimes it gets a little… weird,” He said. After a moment, the tension in his body seemed to subside and he bend from side to side a bit and smiled at Raan, “Okay… I’m good, yeah. Sorry about that,” He said. 

Raan shook his head. “No apologies necessary. Sounds gnarly. Glad you came through it though.” He’d said academy, so it was more than likely not combat based. “Does it kick off like that a lot?”

“No, not very. Usually it’s fine, but I’ve been lugging furniture and boxes all week settling in here,” He said, then nodded out the door with a laugh, “And a fridge. I think I just over did it. Slept on the couch last night too, so… All my damn fault,” He admitted with a laugh as he took a seat. 

“Highly advise having a pulse grenade go off ten feet behind you,” He added as he picked his coffee back up.

Raan’s eyes widened. “Hells… ten feet? You’re lucky to be alive.” Leaning back, he pulled his uniform jacket and undershirt free, displaying a deep scar running across his stomach and up over his ribcage. “Got caught in an ambush. I’d say I walked into a door, but it was flying through the air at the time.”

Keith nodded, “Yeah. I very nearly wasn’t,” He said, taking off his duty jacket and pulling up his undershirt to show the nasty burns and scars around his torso, “Dermal regenerator did an amazing job, believe it or not. I’ve got holos somewhere of it right after. This is pretty compared to how it was,” 

Raan wasn’t bothered by scars but he knew some people were so his expression remained level. From the scarring there, he could tell Keith wasn’t lying. He was very lucky to be here. “If they bother you, I have some ointment from home that helps ease them. Stops scars adhering,” he offered. 

“I might just take you up on that,” Keith said with an appreciative nod. “Doesn’t bug me all the time, but dammit when it does,” He said, pulling his shirt back down. “By the way, you absolutely have to tell RJ that you got me in your quarters with my shirt off,” He said, a devious grin creeping across his face. 

“Oh, I will.” Raan chuckled wickedly. “He’ll have kittens over it. Oh, I should warn you, he has a fairly unique distraction technique.” 

“What could it possibly be?” Keith replied. “Running naked through a room yelling ‘look at me!’ over and over?” 

“Gods, I’m never suggesting that to him. He probably would.” He laughed. “No. He thought I was about to beat him to a pulp, so he kissed me.” 

“And why did he think you were going to be beat him to a pulp?” Keith asked, then raised a hand to pause, “It’s not that I don’t think there’d be a valid reason to beat him to a pulp, I’m just asking what it was in this case?” He clarified with a smirk. 

Raan linked his hands over his stomach, comfortable in the chair. “He slept with my ex-wife. Thought I didn’t know. Was fun watching him freak out for a while. Then I confronted him in sickbay over it and yeah… never had anyone get out of a fight that way before.” 

“Was she your ex at the time?” Keith asked. 

“Yeah. We were separated at the time. Divorce only just went through,” he admitted. “But we were done a long time ago.” 

“I’d have let him sweat too,” Keith replied with a laugh. “But a kiss… that’s a different way to get out of a fight,” He said, laughing. 

Raan shook his head. “I know, I couldn’t believe it myself. I mean, I’m not the most approachable guy, especially when I’m being an asshole. And believe me, I was being an asshole.” 

Keith laughed, “I don’t know if RJ is brave, or incredibly stupid… or both?”

“I’m going with both. In equal measures.” Raan shook his head. “Which is why I took him on for the Squadron. He’s a bloody idiot, and you have to watch him… but at heart, he is actually a good guy.” 

Keith nodded, “Chief Ops on the Asger was like that. He was cantankerous, got us into all sorts of trouble, but he worked harder than anyone on that ship and got us out of the trouble every damn time. Sometimes you get crew that give as many hits as they take, but they make up for it in other ways,” He said, nodding. 

“That’s it, exactly,” he agreed. “RJ was being railroaded over a bad decision, but he didn’t deserve it. And on Arriana, he really came through. So I figured, give him a little leeway, see what he’s capable of.” 

He paused and looked directly at Keith. “I’m just giving you all the keys to the castle here, and I’m not even drunk. Did you train as an interrogator or something?”

“Nah, I’m just nice,” Keith replied with a laugh. “It’s all safe with me, Raan. Far as I’m concerned, anything you tell me just me and you stays just me and you,” He replied. 

“Thank you. And likewise.” He tilted his head. “I’m a good listener, if you need it. Although you look entirely too clean cut to have too many skeletons in your closet.”

Keith chuckled, “I’ll admit, I really don’t have many. But I know enough to understand that if you’ve got ‘em, you usually don’t want ‘em,” He replied, giving Raan an understanding smile. “Life isn’t fair, and it doesn’t pull punches. It’s hard to get through it without making mistakes. I’ve been pretty lucky so far,” He said. 

“Oh, it certainly doesn’t,” Raan said with a sigh. “I’ve made more than a few.” And he was really hoping trusting Keith wasn’t going to be one of them. 

“As long as you own ‘em, and learn from ‘em, you’re good to go,” Keith said with a nod. “I don’t judge folks on where they’ve been, I judge them on where they are. And you seem like someone I can trust and work with,” He said. “I appreciate your candor, Raan. Truly. I know it’s not easy to open up about stuff like that, and I appreciate that you did. None of it will go past me, you have my word.” 

“Thank you.” Raan stood. “Although, much as I’d like to carry this on, I’m going to have to kick you out. Unless you plan on coming out on patrol with us.”

Keith laughed and took one last long sip of his drink before setting it back down and standing up, “Nope, I’m getting mighty comfy on this big ole space station,” He said, offering the other man a hand to shake. “Good to get to know you, Captain. Looking forward to talking more in the future,” He said.

“Likewise,” he replied, taking Keith’s hand. He had a firm grip, even for a human. “And it’s Raan,” he added firmly. “And I certainly hope so. As I recall you wanted to try llanarian brandy…”

“Live dangerously, right?” Keith replied with a smile. “Be safe out there, Raan!” 

Oh, he had no idea… Raan chuckled and swept an arm to let Keith precede him to the door. “Always, and I’ll do my best. It’s a short patrol,” he added. Even though the Manticore could spend longer out there, the Resolute couldn’t. “We’ll be back before you know it.” 

His new CO was certainly… different. Jaxon Reid settled back into his seat on the bridge as they prepared to leave SB86 and slid a sideways glance at the man next to him. He was a bloody big guy for one thing, and with the way he moved it was obvious he knew how to handle himself in a fight. 

Which he did, Jax knew that, he’d read Mason’s file and then made some enquiries himself. Through… non official channels. It was illegal, he knew that. He also didn’t care. His dad had taught him two things: always know who you were getting into bed with, and always sleep with a knife under the pillow. 

So when the chance of a posting on a Manticore had been dangled under his nose like a carrot on a stick, he’d sure as hell checked out who was holding that stick. It was the kind of posting he’d never expected to be offered in a million years. 

With his background and history, there was no way anyone was going to offer him a plum assignment on one of the bigger, more prestigious ships so he’d resigned himself to expect second line ships, or even Reliants. Somewhere that wasn’t front and center where the powers that be could pretend he wasn’t who he was. And that he’d only joined the fleet to avoid going to jail. Technically.

So he certainly hadn’t expected to end up on something like a Manticore. It was a solid assignment, and he was sure Mason had had his pick of officers for XO. But for some reason, he’d picked Jax. Why, he had no idea yet. 

Shaking his head, he shoved the memories back in their box and focusing on the bridge crew as they smoothly went about their duties. Before long, they were clear of the base and heading off out into space, free and clear. 

“I’m shooting over our patrol route,” Mason said, tapping out commands on the small screen built into the arm of his chair. He looked up, catching Jax’s eye. “Take a look, yell if you see any problems with it.”

Jax nodded, opting to send the file to his padd instead. The route was interesting, looping through several systems Jax knew well from his youth. 

He looked up. 

“The route doesn’t make sense. There are pauses and stops here that—“ He stopped and studied the screen again. “There’s not just one ship.”

He knew the Manticore was part of a squadron, and that the other ship, the Resolute, had left just ahead of them. “We’re patrolling with the Resolute. She’s running point.”

Mason’s face split into a grin. “Very good. They said you were sharp. Knowing that, do you see any issues with the route?” 

He nodded toward the screen and as Jax watched, a second ship route appeared. Now it made sense. The Resolute, small and fast, was recce, while the Manticore hung back, ready and waiting in the shadows to strike if needed. 

Jaxon paused, assessing his commanding officer. He knew these systems well. Which he suspected was why he was getting the pop quiz. It was a little basic for his level of experience, but, what the hell… he always had to prove himself on each assignment. Might as well get it out the way on day one.

“Are you asking my opinion as a starfleet officer?” he asked bluntly. “Or because I spent my childhood running guns in this area of space?”

“Both.” Mason’s voice was firm and unapologetic. “If you’ve got non-fleet information, then I’m going to use it if I can. Will that be a problem?”

“No, sir. Not a problem.” 

To be honest, Jaxon was a little surprised. Most of his CO’s had preferred to gloss over his background. To have one that not only acknowledged it, but wanted to use… skills he’d acquired back then was something new. 

“Okay, we need to watch these three systems—“ he pointed them out on the screens. “Used to be good places to do business. You’re going to find the lowest of the low there, and pirates. Some of them like using the girl in the road scam.”

Mason frowned. “Girl in the road?” 

“Yeah. You know like the dirtside one where you lie someone down in the middle of the road to get a vehicle to stop, then jump them when they do?” He carried on quickly. Why people didn’t think of shit like this, he had no clue. But if they did, then it wouldn’t work. “Same thing, only they do it with a small ship, get a pretty woman to make a distress call, then jump whatever ship responds.”

He moved the map with two fingers on the screen. “There are off the books shipyards somewhere near here. More like platforms than real shipyards. They move around a bit but they don’t go far. Most captured are processed within a week and gone.”

Mason’s lip quirked. “That’s going to be interesting when they start in on the Resolute and the Mant drops in on them.”

Jax tilted his head slightly. “Yeah. I doubt they’d try for the Manticore but if they’ve got a big enough team, a prize like the Resolute… they might over-estimate their own abilities.”

Mason nodded. “Agreed. So we need to be on watch for that. But we also have the Breen angle to consider.”

Jax rubbed his chin, feeling the scratch of stubble against his fingers. “Yeah. Well, if they come through in certain areas, the local residents aren’t going to be happy about it, but most will be able to defend themselves to a certain extent. There’s a few that are useless though. Those we’d need to keep an eye on. Colonies,” he added. “Crackpot ones fleeing whatever people like that need to run from, or ones that are convinced they can go it alone and hug trees and shit.” 

“We’ll alter the patrol routes to ensure we check in on them all,” Mason said. “The ones we know about anyway. I’m fairly sure there are others that aren’t listed.”

Jaxon gave a small snort. “Hell yeah, there are. But they’re fairly easily found. Comms channels and small traders drop into them all the time.” 

“Okay,” Mason nodded, raising his voice. “Okay, let’s cross reference all recent trade traffic and build a map of every colony, outpost and trade station that might not be on the maps. We’ll make sure to get within comms range of them as we sweep by. Ensign Haye, get me a line to the Resolute and route it through to my ready room. Ensign Thane,” he frowned as he noticed the unmistakable tall form of the young llanarian. “I’ll want to see you in my ready room in… twenty minutes, please.”

Twenty minutes. Ash felt sick, the door to the captain’s ready room looming larger with each passing second. He sat at the secondary engineering console near the helm station, so he had perfect line of sight to the ready room door. 

“Hey!” Rennox, the ensign he’d met on the base on the way here, leaned against the console next to him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. You okay?” 

“Yeah.” No. He felt sick. Utterly sick. 

“Really?” Rennox raised his eyebrow. “Pull the other one, mate, it’s got bells on.”

Ash frowned. “What on llanar does that mean?”

“Not a freaking clue,” Rennox grinned, a flash of white teeth. Even seated, Asher was almost as tall as the other ensign when he was standing.  

“It’s something my grandpa always said. It means I don’t believe you. Come on,” he ordered, jerking his head toward the turbolift. “You’ve got time before the captain wants you, and he’s on the comm to the Resolute’s captain anyway. Captain Reese-Riggs can talk the hind leg off a donkey.”

Ash shook his head, glancing at Lieutenant Kovash at helm. 

“Go. Yeoman right, Mason busy,” she said, lifting a hand and making it ‘talk’. “I cover. If bring back coffee with sparkles,” she ordered. 

“You got it, ma’am,” he said quickly, sliding from his seat before anyone could change their minds and followed Rennox to the turbolift. “Coffee with sparkles coming up.”

The door closed and he leaned his head back against the wall with a groan.

“So… what gives?” Rennox asked. “It’s just the captain.”

“Just the captain? Just the captain?” Ash’s voice, deep most of the time, reached a high pitched squeak he hadn’t managed since before puberty. “Are you kidding me? That’s not just a captain that’s General Mason! General Raan Mason! He’s like… a freaking legend back on my planet!”

“He was a general in the big war on your planet, wasn’t he?” Rennox asked, herding Ash out of the turbolift when it stopped. 

“Seriously. You’ll be fine,” he said when Ash just nodded. “I fought with him on one of our recent missions.”

“Yeah?” Ash’s head felt like it was on a swivel as they waited for their orders at the replicator. It didn’t seem to be working because his standard order was iced raktajino, but it gave him something hot with marshmallows, cream and sprinkles. 

“Uh-huh,” Rennox nodded, collecting two more drinks and nodding to the last one. “Grab that one,” he ordered. 

“Yeah… it was my first combat mission,” the other ensign explained as they headed back toward the turbolift. “He looked after me, stopped me making a big mistake. A real big mistake.” 

“That doesn’t surprise me.” Ash inclined his head, amazed that the tiny human next to him had fought with Raan Mason. “My dad says he’s amazing in battle. Like seriously hardcore. According to my dad, Mason like won the war single-handed.”

Rennox chuckled. “That wouldn’t surprise me. We went up against Jem’Hadar… I thought we were goners, but the captain knew just what to do. But he’s not that scary—“ He stopped and grinned. “Okay, he is scary. But he’s just a person, you’ll be fine. And you’re llanarian! As soon as he knows you’re llanarian as well, you’ll be fine. You’re the same species!” he announced as they stepped into the turbolift. “That’s gotta get you some brownie points, surely!”

“Yeah… maybe not.” Ash looked at the drinks he held. His and one with sprinkles, marshmallows and, of all things, a sparkler. “The captain already knows I’m llanarian. And who I am.” 

“Oh?” Curiosity filled Rennox’s eyes. “He does? How? I thought you were straight from the academy, so you can’t have served together before.”

Asher felt sick again. “He’s my dad.”

“Holy shit! Did you say… your dad?” Rennox’s eyes widened, then he frowned. “I thought you said your dad said Mason was amazing in battle?”

“Yeah, he did. Mason is my other father,” Asher explained, remembering that Rennox was human. “Like, he’s my stepfather? He and my dad have been married since the war.”

The turbolift door opened before Rennox could ask the questions that were obviously on the tip of his tongue and they stepped out onto the bridge. At the same time the door to the Captain’s ready room swept open and Mason appeared. His gaze swept the bridge and locked onto Asher. 

“Ensign Thane,” his voice thundered across the expansive Manticore bridge. “Come right in, and bring that coffee.”

Raan didn’t wait to watch Asher walk across the bridge, turning and walking back to his desk. Until the ready room on the Resolute, he didn’t have to duck his head before he sat down. It was nice. Meant he didn’t have a headache until he learned to duck. 

It also meant that he didn’t have to look at Asher until he was in Raan’s office. 

“Err, your coffee, sir,” he said, putting the drink down on Raan’s desk. He looked at it, and frowned. “At least, I think it’s coffee.” 

Raan grunted, a small sound of amusement. “It is, somewhere under all the sugar and sprinkles,” he said, indicating the seat opposite his desk. “Take a seat, Asher, and let’s drop the formalities, shall we?”

Asher shot him a surprised look and nodded as he sat down. “Wasn’t sure you even knew my name,” he said, his voice carefully emotionless. 

Raan suppressed the wince. He deserved that, he really did. He was listed as Asher’s father, yet he’d never been part of the young man’s life. 

“I know your name,” he said in a low voice and then nodded toward one of the boxes near the shelves. “Open that.”

His ready room was in the same state as his quarters were… as in he hadn’t unpacked yet. Although, the ready room box was smaller than those in his quarters. Just a few small trinkets he’d found over the years that he told himself that he’d put in his ready room when he got one. Then they’d given him the Resolute, which had had a ready room the size of a cupboard. He’d had a nice picture on the wall, a space scene, but no shelves. Nowhere to display his carefully collected trinkets. 

Asher frowned at him as he levered himself out of the chair and approached the box. Raan watched him as he opened it and pulled out the items on the top. They were photo frames, the folding type from home. 

Asher’s eyes widened as he opened them, his gaze shooting up to clash with Raan’s. “These are…”

Raan nodded. There were two frames, four images. Two were from the war. One image was of him and Bennett, his arm looped over Bennett’s shoulders. It had been after a battle so they were both soaked from the rain and covered in dirt, but they had big grins, just happy to be alive. The other was of him and Kovash, the rivan sat on a wall making bunny ears behind his head just as the image had been taken. He remembered that day. It had been between battles, and they’d taken some RnR between the action. 

“Dad said the war was tough,” Asher murmured, putting the frame on the shelf. “ Did you—“ He cut himself off and opened up the other one. Raan knew what he saw. 

He was looking at a younger version of his father, in llanarian formal dress, next to Raan himself, wide smiles on both their faces. 

“Dad has this as well,” he murmured. “This is your wedding day.”

Raan nodded, watching as Asher looked at the other image in the frame. It was a younger Asher, and his father, Thais. 

Asher looked up, his eyes so like Thais’s that for a moment Raan was taken back. His look was hard, accusatory. “I didn’t think you’d have a copy. Not like you’ve been a part of our lives.” 

“No,” he agreed in a level voice. He hadn’t been part of Asher’s life. Hell, he hadn’t even known Thais had a son until he’d gotten the message that Asher’s family had dropped him off on Thais’s doorstep after Asher’s mother’s death. Neither had Thais, but he’d changed his whole life to look after Asher. 

Asher didn’t put the photos on the shelf as he retook his seat. “So why do you have these then?”

“Your dad is married now—” Raan replied, and cut himself off. It was an excuse and a pointless one. Llanarians practiced multiple marriage. It made no difference whether Thais was married to someone else as well. 

“It was a political marriage. Not a love match,” he said in a low voice, forced to be honest as Asher glared at him. It was nothing less than the truth. Their match had been a dynastic one. And Thais had had to give someone up, someone important to him. Raan had never stopped feeling guilty about it. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, and your father.”

Asher’s expression didn’t change. Raan tilted his head slightly. “Why did you accept the assignment here?” he asked curiously. “I mean, you knew I was in command and you appear to have a problem with me. No,” he lifted his hand as Asher went to speak. “This is a personal matter so nothing you say will go beyond this room. It will not affect your service or record in any way.” 

Asher still had hold of the photo frame, fingertips lightly over the image of his father in formal dress. “He still has that jacket, you know?” 

Raan didn’t break eye contact, just nodded. 

Asher sighed. “Would you believe me if I said I accepted because I knew Dad had accepted the XO position on the Resolute?” 

Raan shook his head. “Try again. You accepted before Thais was offered the XO role.” 

Asher just gave him a mulish look. He was so like his father. Which made him easy for Raan to read. He wasn’t getting anything out of Asher, not right now. 

“Okay, I’m going to take that as you accepted a very good posting for a young officer not long out of the academy,” he said, offering Asher an out. There was a slight lessening of tension in the kid’s shoulders, then he nodded. “And I look forward to seeing what you can do. Especially with Kovash as your mentor.” 

Asher’s gaze flicked over to the other set of photos. “That’s Lieutenant Kovash there?” 

Raan nodded. “Yes. She’s one of the best pilots you’ll ever meet. Learn from her. Just be warned, she has a temper, and she’s a grouch in the morning, but… you can bribe her with chocolate. Just don’t try drinking that engine degreaser she calls coffee.” 

Finally he got the edge of a smile. “She seems nice,” Asher admitted and looked down at the image. “Can I get a copy of this?” 

“The one of you and your dad? Of course.” 

“This one as well.” Asher surprised him by tapping the other image. 

Warmth spread through Raan’s chest. He hadn’t thought Asher would actually want an image of him. “Sure you can. I’ll get them sorted for you.” 

Asher nodded and leaned forward to put the frame on the desk. 

“Did you need me for anything else, sir?”

“No, I’m good.” Raan shook his head, suppressing his smile as Asher levered himself out of the chair and headed toward the door. 

“Oh, Asher,” he said before Asher reached the door. “We will rendezvous with the Resolute in a couple of days. Twelve hour layover… if you want to visit your father during that time, then just let the transporter chief know.”

Asher looked over his shoulder, and nodded, then left the room. 

Mason sat there for a moment, then reached out and picked up the photo frame. Opening it, he looked down, tracing a blunt-edge fingertip over the image, over the formal jackets he and Thais had worn. Ankle length, they’d been heavily embroidered with intricate symbols to mark the alliance between their families. 

He still had his jacket as well…

One of Raan’s daily rituals was a walk about the ship. It hadn’t taken long on the Resolute, but the Manticore was twice the size. At least she wasn’t the size of an Odyssey. He had no idea what he’d do with a ship that size. They were practically cities in space. 

Today’s walkabout was half getting to know the crew and half finding just the right corridor and window to commune with the Manticore herself. The sweet spot. On the Resolute it had been one on the port side, not far from the Pit. Here on the Manticore, it was on the starboard side, near one of the upper entrances to engineering. 

He leaned one large shoulder against the bulkhead, his hand wrapped around a large mug as he watched the stars streaming by. A frown creased his brow, thoughts chasing themselves over each other.

For years he’d been content with where he’d been. The captain of the Resolute, kicking ass and taking names when he was told to, and letting people assume he was the big, dumb bulldog he appeared to be. 

He’d been happy. Content.

Bullshit… he’d been hiding. He knew that. But as long as no one else had realised that, he could forget it. Push the dissatisfaction deep down inside and ignore the fuck out of it. 

His eyes focused on his reflection in the mirror and his scowl deepened. He didn’t look in the mirror often. Only to shave, which was rare… it was the reason he wore a beard most of the time. He didn’t like his reflection because he didn’t see himself. 

He saw a killer. Twice over. 

He saw Raal, his twin brother. 

The brother who had murdered thousands upon thousands in a senseless war. The brother who had decided to burn their world down when he couldn’t rule it. The brother he’d had to kill to stop it.

“No one blames you, you know.” Dayne said, joining him. How the hell he could manage to sneak up on him so easily, Raan had long ago given up on working out.

“Blames me?” he asked, lifting a brow. Sometimes Dayne spoke in riddles. A side effect of being blown up so many times during the war. 

“For killing him…” Dayne motioned to Raan’s reflection. 

He didn’t ask how the big engineer knew he saw Raal. Sometimes the other big, dumb-looking grunt on the ship was more perceptive than he let people realise. 

“He was asking for it, pure and simple. If you hadn’t put him down, I would’ve had to do it,” 

Dayne leaned on the opposite bulkhead, his own mug in his hand as he looked out at the same stars. “And given he was the son of the premier, I’d have been hauled off and court martialed quicker than a wink. But I would have,” he said, his expression suddenly fierce. “To stop you beating yourself the fuck up over it for all these years.”

Raan snorted into his mug, taking a swallow. Dayne was blunt as a thrown brick. 

“It was my responsibility,” he replied, his voice low. “He was my responsibility, as much as Vix was yours.”

At the mention of his sister, Dayne grunted, his expression tight. They were twins, like he and Raal had been… but Vix had been more of a victim than any of them and Dayne had nearly lost her thanks to Raal. Even now, Vix couldn’t bear to be in the same room as him. 

“Yeah… Vix is only a danger if you piss her off in her engineering bay,” he replied. “She hasn’t tried to wipe out half a planet.”

“Yet.” Raan’s lips quirked as he took another swallow from his mug. “If she’s anything like you, I wouldn’t want to take my chances before she’d had her coffee in the morning.”

Dayne laughed, the sound a loud bark in the corridor. “Yeah.. true. Even I tread lightly in a morning when I’m home.”

Raan just nodded and didn’t make a comment to that. He hadn’t been back to their home planet for a very long time. 

Then he frowned and looked at Dayne’s mug. There was a speck of colour on the rim. 

“Is that a fucking sprinkle?” he asked, then blinked and looked at his own drink. He’d gotten so used to not getting what he ordered on the Resolute, that he’d completely missed the fact that it was happening on the Manticore as well. 

“Yup.” Dayne lifted a massive shoulder in a lopsided shrug. “Same glitch it appears. They’re not the same models as on the Resolute, but some of the same components. I’m going to get one of the junior engineers on it, see if we can’t isolate the problem once and for all.”

Raan nodded and pushed off the wall. “Keep me updated,” he ordered. “Because I’ve been dreaming of black coffee.”

“Hey!” Dayne lifted his hands. “What you do in the privacy of your own quarters is totally up to you.” Then he grinned. “But dude, that’s a really crappy fantasy. I was expecting way more nekkidness.”

Raan shook his head as the pair turned to walk down the corridor. “Sometimes I wonder what puppies I kicked in a past life to end up with you.”

For the second time in two weeks, the captains of the Manticore and the Resolute found themselves on a starbase. This time it was Starbase 93 and both of them felt a little pulled from pillar to post after finishing up their previous patrol and heading straight to SB93. 

“I hate transfers,” RJ grumbled as they sat waiting in their new bosses office, waiting for her to arrive. She wasn’t even here, which gave him room to breathe, even if her yeoman, a tall, dangerous looking officer who looked more like he was ready to fold the paperwork in front of him into a deadly weapon rather than file it, was glaring at them.

“Why do you hate transfers?” a deep voice asked. 

He slid a glance over to Mason, who somehow managed to look completely comfortable in the chair next to him, and shrugged. “I like to get to know people. I liked Anderson.”

“Yeah,” Mason snorted. “That much was obvious, as was the fact you’d have liked to get to know him a lot better.”

“Hey! You were the one who wanted me to flirt with him and distract him because you wanted more guns,” he shot back, trying at the same time to work out if Mason’s deep voice held any jealousy. 

He couldn’t figure the guy out, not at all. RJ had flirted with him, to his face, and nothing. Not so much as a growl. He’d flirted with other people, right in front of him, and nothing other than maybe an eyeroll. He’d have normally left it at that, but every so often there was a look, or a wink… and then he was back to square one, with no inkling on what went on in the big, handsome captain’s head. 

“You were the one who pushed for a date.”  

There. There it was. A slight hint, maybe. 

RJ grinned and leaned on the arm of his chair, rubbing the stubble on his chin as he looked at Mason. “Well, if you recall, that was a drinks date. I asked you for dinner. A date you agreed to and that you’re now avoiding.”

“Avoiding?” Mason lifted an eyebrow. “You mean, thanks to this little transfer that meant we had to punch a three week patrol into two?”

Huh. Yeah. The big guy had a point. He sat back in his chair. “Your cousin’s son managed to get over for dinner with his dad.”

Mason didn’t answer that, his attention claimed by the woman who walked through the office. Captain Dal Jayce. Their Task Force Executive officer, and their new boss. 

She was petite, tiny compared to him and definitely compared to Mason, with silver-blonde hair pulled back into a neat pleat and big blue eyes that could melt a man’s soul. 

He couldn’t see them but he knew what they looked like, sliding down in his seat a little and leaning back so he was partially concealed by Mason’s bulk. 

“Just give me a moment, gentlemen, and I’ll be right with you,” she said, barely casting them a glance as her bulldog of a yeoman handed her a padd before she walked into her office. 

“Shiiiiiit,” he breathed, which earned him a frown from Mason.

“What’s the matter with you?” 

“Can you do this meeting without me?” he asked. “As the squadron commanding officer, I think you should.”

Mason’s eyebrow almost came to blows with his hairline. 

“And why should I do that? It’s important that we meet the higher-up’s, gives them a sense of perspective when they send us out onto the front line.”

“No, I’m serious,” RJ looked at the door to the captain’s office like it was the portal to his own execution. Dal Jayce. Captain Dal Jayce. Shit. He hadn’t even known her name. “If I go in there, we’re screwed before we start. Screwed being the operative word.” 

Mason sighed, rolling his eyes. “Is there anyone in the fleet you haven’t slept with?”

RJ shot him a grin, but it was forced. “Only the ones I actually want to sleep with.” 

“Okay, this is what we’re going to do,” Mason rumbled. “We’re going to go in there and you are. Not. Going. To. Flirt. Not one wink, one grin. Nothing. You are going to be the very image of innocence. Understand me?”

“This is such a fucking bad idea,” he grumbled but nodded. “She’s going to give us the worst fucking patrol routes out there. Or permanent latrine duty.”

“We’re starship captains,” Mason reminded him. “Unless she rescinds both our commands and busts us down to ensigns, that’s not going to happen. And she’s not going to do that. After…” he inclined his head. “After recent events, Starfleet needs all the captains and crew it can get. Even you.”

RJ gasped, clapping a hand over the center of his chest dramatically. “That was totally bitchy—”

“The captain will see you now,” the yeoman broke into their conversation. 

The furniture creaked in relief as Mason levered his big frame out of it. Looking down at RJ, he winked, saying in an undertone. “Innocent. Remember?” 

Things changed in a heartbeat in battle, so Mason was used to formulating a plan on the hop. But even so, he was working on a wing and a prayer as he walked into Captain Jayce’s office. 

“Please, gentlemen, take a seat,” the captain smiled up from her padd as they walked into the room, craning a little to look around his shoulder at RJ, who seemed to be trying to merge with his shadow. Mason wasn’t thinking about that though. All his attention was focused on their new TFXO.

She was tiny, so tiny she made him feel like a lumbering beast, and delicate looking. But there was a steel in her dark eyes and something in the way she held herself that warned him not to underestimate her. 

“Captain Mason, I assume?” she said, indicating one of the seats in front of the desk. “Captain Reese-Riggs I already know.”

He couldn’t help his sidelong glance at RJ, whose small smile was the very model of professionalism, even if Mason could tell he was pale under his slight tan. 

“I am, indeed,” he leaned forward to offer his hand, trying to take the attention off RJ and bring it back to himself. The last TFXO they’d met had threatened to throw RJ out of an airlock. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, captain. I must say, you’re not what I expected.”

“Oh?” she asked, shaking his hand firmly. Her grip was surprisingly strong for a woman. “And what did you expect?” 

He smiled. “Someone significantly older. You’re way too young to be a TFXO surely? Unless you were a child prodigy, of course.”

She leveled a look at him, the slight compression of her lips the only response. “Flattery? And you really expect that to work?” 

He kept the smile in place. “I’m really hoping so since I just went out on a limb here.” 

She snorted, the sound somehow soft and elegant and then there with the barest hint of a smile curving her lips. 

“Good recovery, don’t you think, Captain?” she asked, shooting the question at RJ. 

“He’s a charmer, that’s for sure,” RJ replied, looking like an oasis of charm in the room. Mason would bet his heart was going ten to the dozen under that unflappable act. “A good man to have at your back in a crisis.”

Jayce nodded, looking down at the padd in front of her. “So I see. From these reports, you’ve worked together before. In and out of uniform?” 

“We have. Both on Arriana Prime and during the Frontier Day incident,” he said, still trying to get a read on her. It was difficult, she wasn’t giving a lot away. And that yeoman, he was an… odd choice. Older, and he looked like he’d seen action, hard action, somewhere. 

“Excellent. I see no reason to break up a successful team,” she said, sitting back in her chair and studying the pair of them. “I’ll cut to the chase. Mason, you’re a blunt instrument, in more ways than one.”

Mason inclined his head, it was a fair comment. 

She turned her attention to RJ. “And you’re a playboy with a temper, but you’re ruthless under it. I’ve read your file, the parts of it that didn’t nearly land you with a dishonorable discharge. You broke the Ivensa cartel?”

RJ shrugged, and Mason practically felt the effort it took for him not to make some kind of comment. “It was a joint effort,” he passed off the feat as though it were nothing. 

“Bullshit,” she fired back. “I know exactly how deep the Invensa were dug in, and from this you broke them with an old federation junker while working undercover.”

“Well… we did upgrade it a bit.” 

Mason’s eyebrow winged up. Some sections of RJ’s file were redacted. He assumed it was because the alley-cat had done something more outrageous than sleeping with an admiral’s daughter but apparently not. 

“Still, impressive.” She looked at them both. “You both know what your strengths and weaknesses are, and I’m going to need the Manticore squadron to bolster the patrols out here. With everything that’s happened, I don’t need to tell you that we’re stretched thin, so every ship counts.” 

Mason slid a sideways look at RJ, as if to say ‘I told you so.”

“But before that,” Jayce carried on. “I’m going to need a lift.”

Mason blinked at that. “A lift, ma’am?” 

“Indeed. I need to rendezvous with the Verity in the Deneb Sector, once there, you’ll be assigned new mission mandates.”

Mason inclined his head. “Of course, ma’am. I’ll make VIP quarters available on the Manticore. When do we leave?”

“I have a few things to clear up here, so tomorrow morning. I will transport over at the beginning of alpha shift. My yeoman will be in touch this evening with relevant information.” She smiled as she stood. “Now, if you’ll excuse me gentlemen, I have a meeting to prepare for. Zale will show you out.” 

She indicated the door where her yeoman stood waiting. 

Mason nodded and smiled as he stood, offering his hand again for a brief shake. “Thank you, ma’am, it will be a pleasure to host you on the Manticore.” 

She smiled, a quick grin that transformed her stern expression. “Oh, I doubt you’ll say that after long, captain. We are going to have a talk about the diplomatic capabilities of the Manticore.” 

She turned to RJ, holding out her hand. It hadn’t escaped Mason’s notice that he’d managed to avoid shaking hands with Captain Jayce before. “And a pleasure to meet you, Captain Reese-Riggs. Again.”

RJ’s expression flickered and then a smile spread over his lips. “So you do remember me.” 

Mason nearly face-palmed, right there and then. 

“Oh yes,” the tiny captain said, shaking his hand firmly and then letting go. “Who could forget you? Now, not to put too fine a point on it, you’re dismissed… which means get the hell out of my office.”

Dal sighed as the door swished shut behind the two captains, and leaned back in her chair. Change was a constant, and could be difficult, especially after the recent events with Frontier Day, but… yeah, she wasn’t sure if those two worried her, or made her want to smile more. 

A chirp from the console got her attention and she couldn’t help the smile as she recognised the ID on the screen. 

“Well lookit what the cat dragged in,” she grinned as she answered it. “You still owe me a drink for that promotion, Mr. Executive Officer.”

Keith raised his eyebrows, a grin playing at the corners of his lips as he gave her and incredulous look, “I owe you? Oh, I’m sorry, who made Task Force XO first, lady?” He asked. “You owe me that drink,” he teased, giving her that winning grin of his. 

She shook her head, still smiling. Only Keith could turn things around that quickly. “Yeah, yeah… you have to be in the same place as me to collect it. And last I checked you were…” Way too far away. “Across the other side of the galaxy.” 

“Listen, at least you’re admitting that you owe it this time,” Keith replied, waving it off. “At this rate, we’ll drink Quark out of house and home,” He teased. His face softened a little and the smile turned a little less mischievous and a little more sincere, “How you doing, Trouble?” He asked. Even on a screen, it was good to see her face. 

“Is that even possible?” She quipped, then her smile slipped a bit and she shrugged one shoulder. He was the one person she’d always been able to be honest with. About most things. “You know, recent events… it’s been a bit rough. How about you?” 

Keith narrowed his eyes at her for a split second. ‘It’s been a bit rough’ from Dal meant she’d been hanging on by a thread… but if she wasn’t chasing it, he wasn’t going to, “Trying to get my head around everything that happened,” He admitted. “That was a lot closer than I’d care to admit.” 

“Yeah, too right.” She nodded, glancing toward the door. “If it hadn’t been for Zale…” She shrugged and smiled again, brightly. The relief she’d felt when she’d checked the casualty lists and Keith wasn’t on there… 

“Yeah, I can imagine. How’s Zale doing?” Keith asked, smiling. He’d always gotten on well with Dal’s yeoman. For some reason, the man seemed to really like him and honestly, he liked how hard he looked out for Dal. Lord knew someone had to. 

She nodded. “Pretty good. Pretty good. But I never want to see that side of him again, believe me. It was not pretty. He took a shitload of damage. Saved a lot of people.” 

“Sounds about right for him,” Keith said with a chuckle. He sighed a little and shook his head and looked off a bit, “We’d just gotten a whole bunch of lowerdeckers on the Asger,” He explained. “Most of them fresh out of Academy. They all turned,” He said, his eyes growing darker. “We managed to subdue most of them but a few…” 

He looked back up at the camera with that kicked puppy look she knew so well from all the other times his heart had been broken, “How do you send a message home telling their family that you’re sorry their kid got turned into a Borg and you had to kill them to save the rest of the crew? That’s… that’s a bitch.” 

She wanted to hug him. He’d always worn his heart on his sleeve. “It is, and sensitively.” She sighed. She’d had to write those letters herself. “If there is such a thing. You spare them the details, ramp up their kid’s heroism. Then you get drunk after and try to dull the pain.” 

“Yeah,” Keith said with a nod. He gave her a hint of grin, “Thanks for that bottle of Irish Whiskey, by the way” He said, then chuckled. “Completely unrelated, of course.” 

“You’re more than welcome. Just don’t ask where it came from,” she winked. She still had a few contacts that weren’t strictly legal. “You still doing your stretches, Starfleet?”

“Uh… yeah,” Keith replied, in the most unconvincing tone ever. 

She raised her eyebrow at him. “You know I’m going to make you do them all when I see you, and it’s going to hurt because you haven’t been doing them.”

“I’ve been doing them, just… probably not as much as I should,” He said, immediately feeling embarrassed that he’d been slacking off. He gave her a grin, “I miss you… you know that? I don’t like being on the other side of the galaxy,” He said, honestly. 

“Yeah… I miss you as well,” she said, dropping her gaze for a moment. He’d always been disarmingly honest, and it did her every time. “When’s your next leave. We should do something… not paragliding this time though!”

Keith immediately started laughing and waving her off, “Never again! Ever!” He said, remembering exactly how poorly that had gone last time. “I don’t know why I thought that was a good idea!” 

She snorted. “Because you’re an adrenaline junkie, that’s why. I don’t know why I let you persuade me every damn time. I’m sure we exhausted the replicators stores of ice packs.” 

“That’s because you trust me more than anyone else in Starfleet,” Keith replied, pointing at her on the screen. “And you know that I won’t get you into too much trouble,” He teased. 

She laughed. “Your definition of too much trouble and mine are very, very different!” 

But he was right, she did trust him. She couldn’t let him off that easily though. “More than anyone in Starfleet? I dunno, Zale is running a pretty close second these days. And I have a couple of new captains that look promising.”

“I’ll take Zale, but if you’re talking about RJ and Mason, we’re going to fight,” Keith replied in mock offense. “You stole my troublemakers. You know I love my troublemakers.” 

She looked at him, eyebrow inching up. “I did. Whatcha gonna do about it?” 

Then she laughed. 

“Oh my god, they are a pair, aren’t they? Tell me about Mason,” she demanded, leaning forward and wrapping a lock of her hair around her finger. It was a habit she’d never been able to completely get rid of, but one she thankfully only fell into when she was comfortable.

“Well, I can’t tell you much because you didn’t let me crack his shell enough!” Keith replied, pretending to be offended. He couldn’t hold it long, seeing her act all cute and demure was absolutely hilarious to him, knowing how likely it was for her to literally crack someone’s skull if the need arose. 

He chuckled and shook his head, “There’s a lot to that one,” He admitted. “He told me some, but not much. Be good to him,” He said. “Man needs a friend. He’s got an incredible amount of potential, but he’s holding himself back for some reason,” He explained. 

He could have told her everything… but nah, he was going to make her work for it. 

He knew more than he was telling her, she could tell. She leaned on her elbows, pouting. “Come on, you have to have more than that! You’re like a damn interrogator when you want to know something.” 

“Oh, I definitely know more than that,” Keith said with a coy grin. “But that would require you and me at the same table with something far more alcoholic than either of us should be in possession of,” He told her, that spark of mischief making its way back into his eyes. 

He had to admit, it was hard when she dialed up the cute, but he’d grown at least a bit of a resistance over the years. 

“Would you take an IOU?” she pressed. “I mean, these are my guys now. RJ’s an open book, but Mason… he’s different. There’s something about him. I think I should be in full possession of the facts, especially since he’s an asset in my task force now.”

“Nah, Dal, this one is pay on delivery only,” Keith said with a grin, then turned a bit more serious, “In all honesty though… this isn’t mine to tell. There’s no security risk, there’s no major issues, but… it’s something personal he’s carrying,” He admitted. “I think if you let him get to know you a bit, and then push some, he’ll tell you the details but… What he told me was off the record over a drink. I don’t feel right passing it on,” Keith admitted, then smiled a little more softly, “Even to you, and that should say a lot.” 

She nodded. That did tell her everything she needed to know. Keith was so squeaky-clean some of the time it made her teeth ache. But, he was one of the good guys. “So… alcohol? I’m heading out to the Deneb Sector on the Manticore, so I have time to get him to open up.” 

“Start by finding one of his crewman passed out in a coffee shop and drag him halfway across a space station and get him in bed. Then drinks,” Keith said, nodding sagely before he started chuckling. “Let him know he can trust you first. Show him. He’s a good man, Dal. I feel that in my bones,” Keith explained. “RJ… RJ can go out an airlock if need be,” He said, chuckling a bit. 

She grinned. “Let me guess, he cracked onto you?” 

Keith laughed, “Oh, he tried. I don’t think he knew what to do with me.” 

“Probably not.” She’d have paid good money to have been a fly on that wall. “He’s a tad predictable, isn’t he? A lot of a wildcard out in the saddle, but predictable everywhere else.”

“Yeah, pretty much so,” Keith admitted with a grin. “I’ll be honest with you, though, there’s something about him too. Working with him is going to be herding cats, but if you can make it work, I think he’ll do good.” 

“Oh, I can make it work.” She grinned unrepentantly. “I already have him on the back foot. He was like a cat on a hot tin roof just now.”

Keith leaned forward, narrowing his eyes and grinning, “What did you do?” 

“Nothing… much,” She bit her lip, amusement in her eyes. “Played on his lack of memory a little. He chatted me up in a bar months ago, but passed out when… yeah.” She snorted. “Covered him with a blanket and left him to it. He doesn’t know that though.” 

“So he thinks…” Keith burst out laughing hysterically. “Oh my god, that man must be losing his damn mind right now!” 

She grinned like the cheshire cat. “He did not want to be in here, let me tell you. He was so close to Mason he might as well have been in his pants. You should have seen it. Oh, and if you ever need the info, he has a tattoo of a cupcake on his ass.”

“Oh my god… Computer, RJ has a tattoo of a cupcake on his ass, please make note of that,” Keith called out. 

“Note added to your private record for Captain Reese-Riggs,” the computer chimed back happily. 

“I will absolutely use that information for absolutely no good later,” Keith admitted, laughing. 

“That’s what I like to hear.” She tilted her head. Talking with Keith always cheered her up. “So when is your next leave? I have some personal time coming up. Just a few days…” She let the sentence trail off. 

“Majestic is out on patrol right now, but I have some leave I can take as soon as we get back. Where do you want to meet up?” Keith asked. There was no question, he was going wherever she said. He missed her too much not to take the chance. 

“How about the Silvaasian Resort? Beaches… blue seas as far as the eye can see?” She suggested. “Waterfalls, and there’s even jet-skiing if you really have to get the adrenaline rush in.”

Yeah… she may have been planning to tempt him there for a while. 

Keith resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow. “That… sounds incredibly relaxing, and you have a deal,” He said. Part of him wanted to say date… but he didn’t quite know if that was the vibe or not. He’d spent so long trying to convince himself that any feelings he’d had for this woman were platonic that the thought that she might be asking him to a resort planet known for it’s beautiful and quiet for any reason other than friendship was… crazy. 

Right?

“Perfect!” She smiled like the cat that got the cream. “It’s a date. I’ll confirm the details and make a booking so you can’t back out.” 

She checked the time. “Shit. I’m going to be late for my meeting if I don’t get a wriggle on. I’ll call you when I’ve made the booking, okay?” 

‘It’s a date’… huh… Keith didn’t let it make him flounder, to his credit, and just smiled and nodded, “Sounds like a plan, Trouble. Go get your meeting done. Give ‘em hell.” 

“Catch you on the flipside, Starfleet.” She winked and cut the comm.