Captain's Log Stardate 240107.08. We're nearly finished our year-long refit at Avalon Fleet Yards, the USS Valkyrie is nearly ready to return to the cosmos. The last thing we are in need of is the rest of the crew and the senior staff. Who should be arriving in system in the next few hours… hopefully.

  “End log,” he said as he stood at the desk. He walked around the desk and went towards the couch that sat under the three large windows. He sat down as he looked out into the busy fleet yard.

‘It’s hard to believe that after a year we will finally be going back out there,' he thought. As he continued to gaze out of the window, ‘I hope the crew is ready for what is to come next.’

As he sat there gazing out of the window a chime came from the door. He stood from his seat, “Come,” he said. As the doors opened to reveal who it was his face lit up. ‘It can’t be,' he thought to himself.

“Well if it isn't, Captain Gabriel Jackson,” the captain said to him as the doors closed behind them.

“Captain D'Antonio,” Gabriel said starstruck. He smiled at her as he went in for a hug. “How long has it been, Captain?” he asked her as they shared a long overdue embrace.

“Too long,” Raven responded as she hugged him back.

As they stood there the years melted away in a warmth of familiarity even after they stopped hugging they were overcome with a sense of joy and sadness. As they sat there a cascade of memories hit them both. They reminisced about the missions and adventures they shared. As they talked their laughter echoed throughout the room as their reunion transcended the years they had been apart.

“Raven I almost forgot to ask. What brings you here?” he asked her as they both sipped out of their mug.

“The Anderson,” she started, “had to be brought to dry dock.”

“Why did something happen?” he asked her concerned for her well-being.

“We were patrolling the Ysidro sector and all of a sudden an Orion ship attacked us. We managed to destroy it but not before it but not before we took critical damage to our warp core and had to be towed here. So we will be stuck here for a while,” she said nodding her head as she looked at Gabriel.

“You for sure have had the better hand. Seeing as you're in command of a Sovereign class,” she said as she looked around, then returned her eyes to him smiling.

“This old thing,” he said looking around the room, “I've had it for a while,” he said playfully. They both laughed at his stupid humor.

“Have you already selected your senior staff?” she asked him.

“Yes, I have,” he said as he stood up and walked over to his desk. “I was going to contact you to get your opinion,” he said as he picked up a PADD from the desk. “What do you think of my selections?” he asked her as he handed her the PADD and sat back down.

“All of it looks good, I'm just curious about one thing. What's with the hazard team, and why hasn't anyone been assigned to it?" she questioned him as she handed him the PADD back and took a sip of her coffee.

“Command said it was non-negotiable to remove it, and I wanted the chief tactical officer the decision of who will be assigned to the team and who's not,” He said as he placed the PADD on the table.

“Will the team be part-time or full-time," she asked him as she moved closer to him.

“Part-time only to become operations when I deem it necessary,” he said to her as he moved closer to her.

They sat there for what felt like an eternity, and unspoken tension grew in the air. They had felt this between them before but it had been so long they had nearly forgotten about it.

As they gazed at each other's eyes they shared a silent confession of a desire they both shared. Even though what they felt for each other could work now, they feared what would happen to a friendship that meant so much it didn't work.

The ever-growing tension grew as the silence between them continued. Though physically close, an emotional chasm separated them. Two hearts yearning for each other calling for each other for a connection they didn't want to risk.

“Bridge to Captain Jackson,” a voice spoke over the intercom breaking the silence.

“Jackson, here,” Gabriel said breaking the awkward silence that had grown between the two of them.

“The remaining crew including the senior staff has just arrived in system and are making their way to the ship right now.”

“Thank you, for informing me. Jackson, out.”

“Well,” Raven said as she stood up from the couch and set her mug on the coffee table. “It seems you will have a lot of work to do. So I think I will be making my exit now,” she said as Gabriel stood up alongside her.

“Until next time, Raven,” Gabriel said to her smiling. He truly did hope that would see each other again.

“Until we meet again,” she said as she walked out of the door.

Gabriel walked over to his desk and sat down in his chair. Raven's departure left an echoing absence in the room an ache in his chest grew. Her absence cast a shadow over the room leaving him in the dark. But he pushed his feelings to the side as he focused on the task at hand.

Approving all of these transfer requests. 

Then light shone from Logafell, and from that radiance there came bolts of lightning; 

wearing helmets at Himingvani came the Valkyries.

The exhaustion etched across Niala’s face told the tale of a grueling day. The med bay harbored three senior engineers, victims of an enigmatic flu that likely hitchhiked on inadequately decontaminated materials. Time lingered in the schedule, offering a window for their recovery, but Niala, fueled by determination, shunned the wait. Opting for action, she grabbed a hyperspanner, the cool metal a reassuring weight in her hand, and immersed herself in the sea of mechanics diligently toiling beneath her supervision.

Each clang and hum of the machinery echoed the urgency of the ongoing project—the meticulous refit of the Sovereign-class starship, the USS Valkyrie. Niala hadn’t stumbled into this role; she had been handpicked by the station’s Chief Engineer herself. The weight of responsibility settled on her as she observed the remaining grease monkeys, her decision to join them a silent declaration of solidarity.

The Valkyrie, a colossal beauty named after ancient Earth mythology, held a story that had captivated Niala’s curiosity. She had immersed herself in the ancient earth tales of Valkyries, and now, as she crawled the starship’s Jeffries tubes, the imposing hull loomed only a few feet above her. Its sleek lines and powerful presence mirrored the mythical Valkyrie warriors it was named after. 

Fatigue clung to Niala like a persistent shadow, but her determined silhouette pressed on. In the dimly lit confines, a sudden surge of pain rippled through her fingertip as it brushed against a malfunctioning relay. Breath caught, the hum of the ship seemed to echo the uncertainty of the moment. Then, in an involuntary reflex, her spanner slipped from her grasp, its metallic clatter punctuating the silence of the tubes.

Her eyes followed the tool’s descent, and a sigh escaped her lips, carrying a mixture of frustration and resignation. Without hesitation, Niala turned to chase after the fallen spanner. In the confined space, shadows danced around her, accentuating the challenges and intricacies of the starship. Each movement told a story of determination, of a relentless pursuit to conquer not just the mechanical intricacies but the physical toll the Valkyrie demanded from its custodian, a toll she was happy to pay.

The bottom drawer of the typically Starfleet plasticcy built-ins lay open. Senja turned, her eyes glimpsing the myriad stars outside of the large window that flew by at warp speeds and stooped to acquire another small and neatly folded pile of clothes. She took them from their spot with care. The newly gazetted Lieutenant Commander didn’t spend much time out of uniform, some of the items she held hadn’t even been worn since she came aboard the U.S.S. San José six years previously. They were stowed with equal neatness in the large duffel bag laid out on the bed, immaculate except for the inevitable indentations of the holdall laid atop. Senja took a deep breath and sighed, regarding the small collection of items. The ritual of the occasion was not lost on her. Friends and family she had, and yet packing for a new posting had become a solitary affair. She had placed calls to Luna and Taylor, but they had not been available to take them, of course. Luna was a Starfleet Officer herself and Taylor a busy father of two.

The computer terminal beeped signalling an incoming transmission. Senja crossed the room to it and quickly quieted its eager tones with the accept button. Luna appeared on the screen in twinned white towels, one wrapped around her body, the other around her head. Luna had acquired a taste for water showers in Norway and used them to relax after long shifts. It was a sight not alien to Senja, the two women had roomed together at the Academy.

“Hey Mom, what’s up?” Luna smiled from the screen. She was her mother’s daughter, forever cordial and pleasant, although being markedly less Vulcan in genetics was more easily able to display it. Strands of blonde hair fell from her towel across her eye and Luna scowled momentarily and tucked them back underneath. Senja drew up a chair to the small table and took a seat.

“What’s that? Is that a third pip?” Luna asked her before Senja was properly ready. The light of her quarters had betrayed her, her new rank caught a reflection that was beamed lightyears over subspace to her daughter on the U.S.S. Carlsbad. “Mom did you get promoted again?” Senja nodded slightly.

“I did.” Luna grinned.

“Yeesh Mom, you’re making me look bad. You’re already two ranks ahead of me and we graduated at the same time!” Luna rolled her eyes at the hair strand that had fallen again and dragged the towel from her hair. She started to dry it roughly. “Congratulations!” Senja smiled, slightly. She rarely grinned, such a display would be tantamount to a total loss of control.

“Thank you. I might remind you, I have a significant advantage in experience.” Senja commented, kindly in her soft and unassuming voice, trying to spare Luna any pressure of competition. Luna nodded through her towelling.

“Yeah, you’re pretty ancient.” This jibe only received a raised eyebrow in response. Luna balked.

“Don’t give me that Vulcan eyebrow crap Mom, you have a sense of humour, as former bunk-mate and long-time offspring I know you do.”

“Of course I do,” Senja responded quickly, the curved edges of her mouth raising just slightly. “I gave birth to your brother, didn’t I?” Luna screeched with laughter.

“Oh burrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrn. Oh Taylor’s gonna hear about that one.”

“I shall deny everything.”

“Mom!” Luna giggled. Senja closed her eyes as she often did when regulating joy. Being part Betazoid, Senja allowed herself to feel emotion but was rarely if ever overtaken by it. She gently put the emotion back in its place. “Seriously, congratulations,” Luna continued. “I knew you’d nail Starfleet. So, you staying on the San José?” Senja shook her head.

“I have been given a new assignment. A Sovereign class vessel, the Valkyrie.”

“Oooooooh, very Nordic. J’approve. And a Sovereign huh, fancy!” Luna finished towelling and a throng of blonde hair scarecrowed her features for a moment. “Still the big cheese? Science cheese obviously.”

“I am still Chief Science Officer.”

“So I should think. Doctor Solberg. They’re lucky to have you.” In the background of the call the Carlsbad’s computer interrupted Senja’s daughter with a reminder of the time.

“Oh crap, Mom I have to go get ready,” Luna exclaimed with some urgency. “I’m meeting someone for dinner and errr…” Luna gestured at her frizz.

“Abigail again?” Luna stopped her panic long enough for a still and pregnant pause.

“Yeah…?”

Senja nodded sagely. “Enjoy yourself.”

“What?” Luna protested. “I’m just meeting a colleague for dinner!” Senja pouted in response.

“Luna Raghavan-Solberg, I am your former bunkmate, your best friend, your mother… and I’m telepathic.”

Luna grinned. “There’s that sense of humour. Say uh… Mom…?”

“Yes dear?”

“I’ve got a girlfriend, Mom.”

“I look forward to meeting her. Now go get ready.”

“Love you!” The screen flickered and Luna’s face, one that reminded Senja so much of her own was replaced with the emblem of the United Federation of Planets. Another deep breath and a sigh, yet this one was contented. Senja rose and stared at the stars wizzing past a moment before continuing the packing. Beside her bag lay the one item that was always packed last and unpacked first, a photo of Rakesh, her husband, many years passed. Senja picked up the photo frame and reminisced for a moment.

“You would be so proud,” she told it quietly, and placed it snugly amongst some shirts. 

“You’re sure about this?”  The transport pilot stood behind Lieutenant Sienna Frisco in the passenger compartment as she worked on a young Vulcan woman.  T’sas had passed out in the middle of the journey, and the ship stood still.  Out of the five passengers on the transport, she was the only medical officer: two engineers and two helm officers.  “I’ve sent out a distress call,” he nervously said as he watched her warily.

Frisco scanned the woman with her medical tricorder, “You said so yourself – nobody’s out here…or at least in range.  The closest ship is two hours away.”  She leaned down and listened to the chest of her patient, “Her heart rate is going all over the place.”  She jumped up and stalked down toward the far end of the compartment, snagging the AED unit.  

The pilot put his hands up in panic, “What are you doing?”

As she pulled the unit out, she narrated, “Hearts, no matter the species, sometimes go out of rhythm. You have to shock them back into working order.  Sometimes, you have to slap someone to wake them up.  You must slap the heart.”

One of the engineers piped up, “We have to do that with the warp core sometimes.  Damn scary.”

The pilot made a note on his PADD, “This is…highly irregular.  I’m adding this to my report.”

Sienna snagged a blanket from one of the helm officers and carefully removed the Vulcan woman’s shirt while covering her for privacy.  She attached the leads and tapped the console.  The heart was all over the place as it scanned.  It recommended a shock.  “Add it, report it – I don’t care.  T’sas is more important right now.  She checked her medical tricorder a second time.  It’s time to shock, she concluded.  She tapped the console on the unit, “Clear!  3, 2….1.”  The AED delivered the shock, and the body of the Vulcan arched and then collapsed back to the floor.  The readings continued fluctuating, and Frisco grumbled, “She’s going to need a bigger shock.”

The pilot objected, “That was a pretty big shock you just gave her.  I…”

She spun on him, “Did you pass your medical training on this thing?”  She pointed to the AED.  

He shook his head, “…… it’s my second day.”

She dismissed his answer, “You’re going on report – you shouldn’t be in the pilot seat without standard medical triage training.  Now let me work.”  She adjusted the charge as the readings became more erratic.  “Clear…3…2..11…”  This time, the charge sounded deeper and startled everyone.  Sienna looked at the sensors.  It was better, but it was still erratic.  “One more before I have to get creative.”  She said it out for herself but also to warn everyone there was one more coming.  She adjusted again and tapped the console, “Clear…3…2..1…”

The Vulcan woman’s body arched and then fell back.  The unit beeped approvingly, and the heart rate stabilized.  The woman’s eyes opened, and she stared at Frisco, “You have removed my shirt.”

Sienna smiled, “I did, but I kept you covered.”

The pilot returned from the cockpit, “We got lucky.  An Olympic class ship is headed home and diverting our way.”

Frisco started making her notes, “Let them know I’ll have a report ready.  I’m going to move us to the back of the shuttle so we can prep her for transfer.”  She gave a comforting look to T’sas, “Let’s get you ready.”

The Vulcan asked, “Where are you headed, Lieutenant?  I want to send you a note of thanks.”

Sienna grinned, “USS Valkyrie.”

Considering how her early life had been within the Romulan Star Empire, the fact she was alive was remarkable alone. What the Senate would have thought initially terrified her. Her work within the Federation had garnered attention and grudging respect.

The rebuilding of the Utopia Planetia wasn’t meant to be a stepping stone. No doubt, the powers that be put her there to keep an eye on her and to keep her out of the way. She had turned it around and ended up excelling at the task. The overloaded runabout did little to change her mood. At least she had arranged her gear and personal items to be onboard. That meant she’d had to pay more attention as she was also pulling a cargo trailer. “Avalon control, this is the Runabout  Brownsville. Requesting docking primary docking near the parts depot. Transmitting supply orders.”

“Brownsville, request granted. Proceed on heading 272, mark 45.””Roger control. Brownsville out.”

Dropping off the car and trailer to the depot, she swung by the Valkyrie long enough to land in the shuttle bay. Asking a tech to move her gear to a pallet and beam it to her quarters once she had been assigned some. A quick visual check in the mirror after changing into her new uniform. The auburn tint to her hair actually looked better against the gold-shouldered uniform.

Asking the computer where the lounge was, she took a window seat and started the always laborious task of in-processing. “Large redleaf tea, please.” Hilea asked the server.

Nursing a drink at one of the more discreet tables in the ship’s messhall, Valkyrie’s Romulan tactical officer swilled the beverage in a circular motion, creating a whirlpool-like hole in the middle of her cup. She’d been in the lounge for close to an hour, mulling over the contents of the data PADD she’d been given by the Captain when he informed her of her latest duty. Being asked to create a Starfleet hazard team from scratch was not on her 2401 bucket list or bingo card. She was, of course, familiar with the concept of a hazard team; a type of military unit utilised to take control of extreme situations and high-risk away team missions, and one that would be formed of an elite force of officers from across the different branches of Starfleet. Sure, she could see the advantage of such a team, and it was, after all, a directive from her commanding officer, but she couldn’t help but think that it was a slight on her, and her security teams. Did Starfleet (or worse, the Captain) think her team was incompetent? Unable to deal with the stress of difficult missions?

To be fair, if that was the case, she was pretty confident she could fight her corner and defend her team. Rigorously. Valkyrie had been in spacedock for almost a year undergoing refits, missing the entire Dominion debacle in the Deneb sector, and the Frontier Day disaster. It was hard for any of the teams aboard the ship to shine in those circumstances, so if they thought her team wasn’t doing something that it should, she’d be having words for sure.

She’d been tasked with putting together a list of names for the team to present them to the Captain, but she needed another set of eyes. There was only one logical person she could go to for advice at this point. Placing her beverage on the table, she slapped her commbadge.

“Nisea to Flores,” she called into the ether.

”Flores here, what may I do for you, commander?” Sitting at his desk, Flores suddenly received a message from Nisea. He was wondering what the commander needed from him.

“I’d appreciate another set of eyes on my hazard team assignment if you would be willing, sir?” the Romulan commander asked, hopeful of a positive response.

“Come to my suite, commander. We will discuss it here; hazard team assignments are not to be taken lightly,” said Flores.

“Affirmative, Commander,” Nisea accepted his request and rose to her feet, grabbing her work items and making for the nearest exit. When she arrived at the XO’s quarters a short while later, looking a little less pristine than usual, she used her elbow to press the door chime since she had almost a dozen data PADDs in her hands.

“Come in,” called out Flores, as he was expecting Commander Nisea to come here and talk to him about the hazard team formation. Hazard teams, from Flores’s experience, were one of the more prestigious positions aboard a starship, but with a cause. This team would usually deal with some of the more dangerous missions and away missions, which required specialists in the field to examine or investigate. It was understandable that the commander needed to consult with him. “Take a seat, Nisea, and please do put down those PADDs you’re holding. Those are quite heavy,” said Flores with a shocked voice.

Never one to like the insinuation that she was weak, like her Vulcan brethren, the Romulan did her utmost to maintain a modicum of composure as she dro…placed the PADDs on the coffee table between them. “I appreciate you taking the time out of your schedule to meet with me Commander, but I’ve been wracking my brains on this for hours,” she confessed, taking one of the offered seats and getting comfortable.

”What exactly do you need my help with, Commander? All I know about is that you need another pair of eyes to look at the hazard team operations to which you are apparently heading. So I must ask first: how are you taking liking to your new position and post? Have you dealt with this type of situation before? Finally, who have you considered already for a hazard team? I’ll tell you this one bit. Hazard teams are composed of specialists. They do not necessarily require a senior office rank of lieutenant commander and above. They only require expertise in the field. You may or may not choose to lead one of these teams,” said Flores in an impressive one breath. Flores then gasped a huge breath.

Listening to what was tantamount to a word salad given her confused state, the Romulan just about managed to make sense of the Commander’s many questions and statements. “Hazard teams are new to me,” she confessed, “I’ve only ever been in charge of my security teams, so being responsible for a team of people from different disciplines is not something I am used to.” She then drew his attention to one specific data PADD, the one at the bottom of her pile. “This is the list of all uniquely qualified people. I need to narrow it down. Significantly.”

“Impressive. You managed to understand a significant part of what I said. You could distinguish the most important parts. I apologise if I gave a short exam. It is not to judge your abilities but to train you for future operations that will require you to distinguish the most important facts that are being said. This is an essential skill every member and head needs in the field and in training,” said Flores, feeling a little bit bad for the commander. “Anyways, let’s continue the task at hand, shall we? Who do we have first?“ Asked Flores.

“I think it would be best if we started with the best candidates,” Nisea suggested, reaching down to the coffee table between them and picking up the first data PADD. She presented it to the Commander and slumped back in her seat.

For the next hour, the two officers chatted through the candidates, successfully whittling them down to a team of ten, with an additional team of reservists. A second set of eyes had helped her to narrow down the field just as she wanted and meant that she had a team to propose to the Captain.

”Done and done. We have reviewed all the possible candidates. Now it is up to you to present your ideas to the captain and get his approval but I am confident that this would be the best set of officers and specialists for the hazard team.“ said Flores, after reviewing the PADDs for several hours. 

Rising from the sofa, Nisea collected all of the data storage devices. “I appreciate your assistance, Commander. You helped me navigate a minefield.”

”It’s nothing commander. Godspeed.“ standing up to greet Nisea from his deck. “I still have a lot of work to finish so if you don’t mind commander.“ 

Nodding respectfully, the Commander dutifully retired and left the XO to his duties, content that together they had navigated a potential hazard. Now all she had to do was present their final recommendations to the Captain.

Part of the ritual. The whole issue wasn’t paperwork or meeting people but the seemingly endless kilometers of corridors and decks. Not even counting the fact that she could nearly wander the ship with the lights out and know where she was. She’d been in a few refits, including some Sovvie class beauties. Rounding the corner into the Medical, she waited for the staff to acknowledge her.  

Sienna was working through the inventory list with her charge nurse.  She was pleasantly surprised to find that there were very few issues with supplies and equipment.  She’d always admired the Sovereign class and her sleek look.  Frisco had never understood the hate the Galaxy class had gotten as the ‘fat’ one.  The next evolution was smooth and put most of the ships at the time to shame.  In the days they lived now, it was starting to age against the shiny and younger classes.

“Lieutenant…”  The charge nurse nodded to the figure who had just walked into the expansive sickbay.

Frisco wasn’t sure what to make of Commander t’Rehu.  Half Romulan and half Vulcan was a challenge on a good day, and she’d read the edited portions of the dossier after coming aboard.  She was impressed with the woman, yet she was curious to see how her transition into Federation life on a Starfleet vessel would go. Sienna had thought about how t’Rehu had lived a life that starkly contrasted with what was now ahead of her.  “I’ll take her.” Frisco walked towards the commander, sliding a slight smile onto her face as she greeted her, “Commander t’Rehu, welcome to sickbay.  Doc Frisco.  You’re here for your entry exam?”

Hilea smiled back warmly. “Easy Lieutenant. My inner fire is for light, not for destruction.” She said, using an old Rihannan cliche. “Or, to put it in human terms, I don’t bite. Unless asked nicely.” She handed the nurse her padd so the data could moved and perused. “I was assigned as the new Chief Operations Officer. As a combat medic myself, a good baseline exam is never a bad idea. Though some of us make universally bad patients.”

Sienna didn’t get the reference.  Her musical interests ran in the present.  Knickerbocker Saints had just put out their second album, and she’d been jamming to it in her office and quarters on repeat.  She kept her smile in place, “I remain optimistic we won’t need anything combat-related for a bit.” The PADD was passed to her by the nurse, and she read the updates to the file.  She gestured to a nearby biobed that was out of the way, “I’m notorious for paperwork, but also for the fastest exams in several sectors.”

“We can only hope you are correct. To speed up the process. I have no new ailments, complaints, or allergies, and I take no medications.” Hilea offered. “Correction. The embellishment of the artwork on my upper left chest was finished.” Snaking her arm out of her t-shirt, she displayed the complete design. The crude warbird brand seared into her skin from the Dominion War had been replaced by an embellished Warbird, wings upright, with a pair of crossed swords between the upright wings and above the head. 

They walked over to the area, and Hilea shifted up and onto the bed.  Sienna tapped at the console, and the sensor units slipped from the ceiling and began scanning the patient.  Slipping out a medical tricorder, she began her work.  She remarked, “You’ve been through some things.”  She completed her scan.  Watching the X-rays fill the display screen in the room, she pointed at the various traces of injuries.“Being in the ‘rihan yy’a’ tends to magnify the mortality rate.” The universal translator catching the phrase as the ‘declared dead’.  Hilea added, “Romulan Infantry.” she said plainly. Pointing out the history and locations of the random wounds and injuries she had endured in her thirty-eight years of service.  

Frisco completed her surface and deeper scan, adding the data to the report, “I’m aware.”  She slipped the tricorder back onto her belt and returned the equipment to the ceiling, “You’ve been through plenty.  Your physical comes back clear with a few notes on blood pressure and a light workout schedule that may help.”  She sat down on the stool, “My concerns would be the life and legacy you’ve lived impacting you in the here and now.  And yes, ” she put a hand up in admission, “This is more of a counselor conversation…but I wanted to mention it.  I’ve spent time with Vulcans and Romulans – the history and stories echo through lives and life.” 

Hilea offered, “That is apparent from your bedside manner or lack thereof. Not a criticism but an observance.” She paused, then added, “After serving with humans, the contrast is interesting. Thank you.” Hilea added genuinely with the merest hint of a smile. Something few that hadn’t lived on Vulcan would notice.“Counseling has also been interesting from a mixed Vulcanic heritage. The Romulan version is something to avoid.” Hilea said, the last part spoken with venom.  Getting up from the biobed, Hilea asked Sienna, “Is there a dish you miss from Vulcan? One perhaps the replicator makes accurately.”

The CMO kept her frown at bay.  “My family practiced fusion food practices. We’d find ways to mix Earth and Vulcan cuisines.  We would often mix Plomeek soup with spicy Pho from home.  I don’t miss the food as much as the people I grew to know and love.”  She tapped at her PADD, “Your exam is clear.  I’ll file it and send it up the ladder.  Welcome aboard the Valkyrie.”

As if on cue, one eyebrow went up at the translation, which sounded like a half-word to her ears.  Hilea’s mind went back over a half-century to a meal with her parents for a brief moment. Shaking the thought away she said, “Fuh?!” She silently repeated, filing the factoid away for later research.”Thank you, Lieutenant” She said geniunely with a deep nod. 

Frisco walked back to her office and thoughtfully sat down at her desk.  Given the history of Lieutenant Commander t’Rehu, there had been an interesting lack of reflection on her questions.  It was nowhere near rising to the level of dealing with it – Starfleet’s clearance was enough for Sienna.  She returned to her reports, and the day that lay ahead.

“Large redleaf tea, please,” Hilea asked the server. Kriana, the ship’s bartender nodded and returned to the bar to prepare Hilea’s tea. 

It took her a few minutes to get her records transferred into the computer. Nearly instantly, she had a response as to her assigned quarters. She signed off on the response, setting down her padd. For the first time Hilea took a look around the room and was instantly unimpressed. Understandably since the dust of the refit hadn’t completely settled. Which was the next time on her list, getting signed on and up to speed on the complete state of the ship. The server returned with her hot tea, just as Hilea set down her padd. “Who do I talk to about the decor of the lounge, or is there a theme already set?” OOC: Love the lounge.  Of course there should be a very small one near Engineering and the Enlisted quarters. Call that one Stovokor. 

Kriana bent down and carefully placed the tray on the table in front of Hilea. There was an infuser filled with Tea leaves in the large mug, a small pot of sugar with a spoon and a separate receptacle for the infuser once the Tea had reached the desired strength. The gently steaming water clouded with colour. Not expecting the question she looked at Hilea a moment before responding as she straightened back up.

“Valhalla? Oh they won’t change it,” she said firmly. “Part of the ship’s tradition. Hang on…” She quickly crossed the room to the bar and leant over it to deposit her tray and swipe a padd, one of her stilleto’d boots momentarily cocked behind her for balance as she did so. “Right…” she exclaimed as she arrived back at the table and stood, very proudly but very naturally, hips forward so that the artistic rips in her black jeans showed an inch or two of thigh skin. With one hand on her waist, the other thumbing through text on the padd, she read aloud.

“In Norse mythology, a Valkyrie is one of a host of female figures who guide souls of the dead to the god Odin’s hall Valhalla.” She gestured to the room as she said the name Valhalla. “There, the deceased warriors become ein… ein…her…jar. When the einherjar are not preparing for the events of Ragnarök, the valkyries bear them mead. Huh… fitting.” With this last comment she indicated herself, as bartender. “Valhalla operates under the assumption that if a senior officer is present, then they are free to be engaged with any member of the crew. It is also a firm rule of Valhalla that the only person aboard a ship who is allowed to declare themselves ‘the strongest crewmember’…” her hand was removed from her hip a moment to do quote marks “…must be the strongest crewmember, as measured by an arm wrestling competition between every worthy opponent. Violators of this rule are refused all service by the wait staff until they have made amends – two mugs of Pale Lager Beer.”

She looked up from the padd. “Sounds annoyingly Klingon if you ask me…

”Hilea offered, “An interesting concept.  It parallels the belief that how you treat the universe is correlated to how it treats you. I wonder what plants would be appropriate in such a setting?” It was at once a serious and yet humorous question as Hilea actually chuckled as she said it. Kriana looked at her blankly.

“Norse ones…?” She offered with a shrug. Kriana had an idea that she didn’t really understand what the amber-eyed customer was driving at.

“I apologize. My mind is slightly rambling. Hilea t’Rehu, the new operations officer. My plants are in stasis and perhaps Valhalla could be less…bleak.”

“Oh! Yeah, for sure. Kriana Popples.” Kriana gave Hilea a winning smile. She liked it when customers took the time to properly introduce themselves, it felt like mutual respect, even if being a bartender was nowhere near as vocationally important as what the Starfleet Officers did. “My wife Fearne is in Security,” she added, subconciously trying to justify her presence on the ship.

Hilea nodded as the information. “Pleased to meet you. You are actually the first non-required personnel I have talked to aboard the ship. Kriana looked less than amused at this description.

“We prefer the term ‘non-essential’,” she said, folding her arms, the padd still in her grip resting against her side. “Less rude,” she assured Hilea in a stage whisper. “Although I suppose it amounts to the same thing.”

“On a Federation ship, you are essential to morale. So not entirely accurate, but I see your point. You mentioned your wife, so then you are essential to maintain the family unit.” Hilea replied. 

“Still the first to be evacuated when things go sour,” Kriana pointed out.

“That would be a welcome change to how things usually go for me. I usually get evacuated into the danger zone.” Hilea offered. Kriana perked an eyebrow sympathetically.

“Perhaps I should bring you something stronger, then?” She half-joked. Hilea replied. “I am more impressed by the taste of something. Considering my multi-vulcanic heritage, I am curious as to what the offering will be.”

Multi-vulcanic. It sounded like Vulcan to Kriana, and so did t’Rehu, but Hilea had smiled, so this left the bartender thoroughly confused. Kriana filed it away in her mind in a big folder of ‘things I don’t understand and probably shouldn’t ask about’.

“Well there is a mixed-heritage cocktail I uhhh… concocted?” She explained. “Speciality of mine. Some sweet, some sour, some spice. Interested?” 

“If it is less than acceptable. I shall inform you.” Hilea smiled again, this time, with a slightly sly grin. “However, the mixed-heritage cocktail is an interesting concept. That is an accurate assessment as any for a Vulcan/Romulan half-breed as well. “ Hilea added, indicating her own heritage. ”a large glass of orange juice, please along with the cocktail.”

Kriana nodded and returned bar with a slightly mischievous look on her face. A few minutes behind the bar of secretive grafting yielded a tray of drinks, which she transported expertly to the waiting Hilea. Kriana placed two glasses in front of her. “One glass of Orange Juice, and one… quvHa’. Enjoy!” Kriana perched on a nearby arm-rest to await Hilea’s reaction to the drink. Served in a conical glass with a dainty stem, it was a deep blush-oblush-orange-coloured liquid. A menacing thread of blood-red swirled about the ice cubes. Attached to the rim was a slice of an orange-like fruit carved into the silhouette of a bat’leth. Hilea smelled the drink tentatively. She took a decent sip, almost wishing she hadn’t as the sour settled in. Soon that mellowed to semi-sweet but spiced wine, much like an alcoholic version of Vulcan spice tea. It finished with a hint of earthly lingering taste. Taking a second larger sip, it solidified her impression. “Quite impressive. Put in on my rotation.” Hilea offered.

“Add one to the house of the dishonored,” Kriana commented with a malevolent smile. “Can I get you anything else today?” 

“No, Kriana, thank you. It’s been weeks in a runabout, now in-processing. Something more active is likely to be next.”

Kriana didn’t like to insert herself into people’s business, but as Hilea was volunteering information and -looking around- all the other patrons seemed to be drinked-up and happy for now, she decided to help this new officer feel more at home. Not that she herself had been on the ship long, but bartenders gave an impression of establishment.

“Don’t want to be too cloudy-headed for meeting people huh?” She ventured. “Oh wait,” she chuckled, “alcohol won’t affect you. You prefer things active? Anything’s better than transport ships for days or weeks on end. So dull.”

“What I need is to keep the edge sharp while destressing. Where is a good Klingon bar when you need one?”” Hilea asked rhetorically. Kriana snorted.

“That’s an oxymoron if you ask me,” she observed, holding the padd to her belly idly with both hands. “Klingon culture is always easier to stomach when you can walk out the door and leave it behind.” “While that is true, it’s nice when  you are the last drunken person still standing after the fight.” A rare twinkle appeared in Hilea’s eye, her own mischievous smirk. Her Rihannsu heritage coming to the forefront.

As Niala crawled through the jeffries tube her fingers closed around the cold metal of her spanner yet again, a subtle shift in the surroundings caught her attention – the familiar sights of Deck 8. Emerging from the confined space she found herself face to face with Ensign Bennett and Cunningham, a timely encounter that sparked a glint of approval in her eyes. Straightening her back, she approached the interaction with a poised demeanor.

“Have you heard about the new captain,” Bennett spoke in a hushed tone as he worked on a panel.

"Yes, they say he is quite the showstopper," Cunningham responded.

Her usual sharp and purposeful attitude wavered at the notion that they were receiving a new commander. The urgency of her previous situation consumed her once more and she made purposeful stides to the pair discussing the rumor that had been floating around the ship for the past two days.

"Relay F-23-Alpha," she stated, her voice carrying the weight of her responsibility, “needs your attention. Investigate and replace it promptly.”

The engineers' steps paused a synchronized halt at the sound of her voice echoing from behind. With a sharp, "Yes, Ma'am," they pivoted, their actions mirroring the precise instructions given. 

Niala's gaze lingered on their receding forms until they vanished into the jeffries tube. Then, in the solitude of the corridor, her shoulders slumped slightly, a silent testament to the weight of weariness she bore. With the day's toll evident in her slow, deliberate steps, she made her way toward the promise of rejuvenation a Raktajino from the nearest replicator. Each yawn betrayed her battle against fatigue, eyes struggling to remain open, yet her determination pushed her forward, driven by the unyielding demands of the project.

Walking down the engineering hallway the four pip officer took note of its current state. ‘We are far from being ready for launch,’ he thought to himself as he walked towards an intersection.

He continued on his path and collided with a yellow shirt Bajoran officer as he turned the corner. They momentarily lost balance and both of them fell to the ground.

“My apologies,” Gabriel started, “I didn't realize anyone else was walking down here.”

"You didn't... You didn't realize!? How?" Niala seethed, her frustration boiling over from exhaustion and stress. "...engineers are practically everywhere!"

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at the way the Bajoran officer was reacting. ‘I wonder if she noticed them,’ he asked himself referring to the four pips he bore on his collar. ‘Maybe she hadn’t,' he resolved.

“I do apologize, Commander,” he said to her as he tried to help her up.

As Niala slowly lifted from the floor, her tired muscles protesting the sudden movement, she found her gaze ensnared by the inviting eyes of the good-looking human officer before her. His eyes, a rich shade of hazel, held a combination of curiosity and authority that drew her in.

Her curiosity piqued, Niala's gaze wandered downward, tracing the lines of his uniform until it settled on his collar. A silent count began in her mind, "One, two, three… oh, dear, four pips."

There, nestled among the dark fabric, were four gleaming pips, each a testament to years of service and dedication.

A surge of realization flooded through her like an unexpected tidal wave pounding the shore. At that moment, it dawned on her with striking clarity - she had just reprimanded a superior officer, a Captain.

Suddenly Niala swallowed hard, the atmosphere around her grew tense, her cheeks burning red. "Sorry, sir," she whispered, her parched voice barely audible, "I shouldn't have done that."

He smiled brightly at her, “I should be the one apologizing, Commander…” he said as he trailed off.

"Lorra," she added, followed by, "Lieutenant Commander Lorra Niala, Ypsilon Shift Supervisor, Refit Department."

“Captain Gabriel Jackson, Commanding Officer, USS Valkyrie,” said smiling at her brightly. 

Niala's eyes swept over the man's figure, her gaze lingering for a moment before she spoke. 

"Captain Jackson?" Her voice was uncertain for a moment as she sought confirmation, "Would you do me a favor?"

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at her question.

Her lips curved upward in a tender bow, but her eyes spoke volumes. A glimmer hung at the edge of her lashes, maybe it was the exhaustion, or, a silent witness to the depth of her feelings. 

"Please," she tried to mask the tremble in her voice, “take good care of my girl.”

Gabriel sighed softly as he looked around the hallway. “Commander,” he said to her, “Walk with me.”

Niala's nod was hesitant, her gaze trailing after the others as they moved ahead. Inside her, a tumult churned, a whirlwind of uncertainty and self-doubt. Her steps mirrored the rhythm of her racing thoughts, each one crashing against her consciousness like waves against a shore.

‘Was it something I said?’ The question reverberated through her mind, bouncing off the walls of her thoughts with a persistent echo. 

'Did I offend him?' The possibility hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over her confidence. 

‘Me and my stupid mouth!’ The self-reproach was bitter on her mind, each syllable laced with regret. She berated herself for every careless word, every ill-timed remark that might have soured their exchange.

“I've been searching for a chief engineer. After asking around the station your name came up more times than I can count on both hands,” he said as they continued down the hallway.

 'There we go,' she silently affirmed, steeling herself for what she had to say. With a deep breath, she turned to face him, her words stumbling out in a hurried cascade.

"I'm sorry, sir," her voice quivered slightly, betraying her unease. 

"We… I... I'm doing my best. We've had some setbacks, yes, but..." Her sentences fragmented, interrupted by pauses as she struggled to find the right words. "...we're still on schedule." Each word was punctuated by the weight of her sincerity, her commitment evident despite the obstacles.

‘A more direct approach is needed it would seem.’ he thought to himself as he stopped walking and faced her.

“What I'm trying to say is that many people throughout the fleet yards have recommended you to become the chief engineer of the Valkyrie," he says to her as he gazes at her to see her reaction

"I AM the Chief Engineer on the Valkyrie project…" Niala started, but then she paused, her eyes widened as his words sank in, “Oh, sir, are you referring to...”

“And after looking over your dossier, I must say I'm inclined to agree,” he said to her as he started walking down the hallway. 

Her lips trembled as she struggled to form the words, "Th-thank you, sir," she managed, her smile betraying the nerves coursing through her. 

She fought to control the urge to burst into nervous laughter, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind racing with anticipation, 'Is this it? Is this finally my shot?'

“I should be the one thanking you, Commander,” he said looking at the Bajoran officer as a smirk appeared on his face finding her reaction to realizing a little amusing. 

“Since I'm currently the most senior officer aboard the ship, I will be leaving you in charge of overseeing the refit until my return. I'm going to be visiting family for a few weeks on Earth"

Niala's eyes widened, their sparkle reflecting the rush within her. The urge to connect with her father surged, dial him on a holocall, and share the news! Yet, she reined in her emotions, she's a professional, after all, her jaw set in determination. "I won't let you down, sir!" she declared, her voice steady but tinged.

“I will see you in a few weeks, Commander,” Gabriel says as he walks to a turbolift at the end of the hallway, “Take care of my ship, or we are going to have problems,” he says smirking as the door closes.

"She'll be prim, proper, and ready to head out, sir," Niala hurriedly assured, her words racing to catch him before the door sealed shut. As the pneumatic door finally closed with a soft whoosh, she couldn't contain the surge of relief and excitement. With a joyful whoop, Niala leaped into the air, her arms stretching toward the ceiling in a triumphant gesture. The fatigue that had weighed her down just moments ago was now replaced by pure exhilaration, a radiant smile spreading across her face, the face of the Chief of the USS Valkyrie.

Gabriel sat in his ready room tapping at the PADD he held. ‘Finally,’ he thought as he sighed heavily, ‘I’ve finally finished these transfer requests.'

Just as he began to relax in his seat. “Bridge to Captain Jackson,” a voice spoke through the intercom.

Gabriel sighed heavily when he heard the voice, “Jackson here,” he said monotonously.

“Sir, the majority of the senior staff has arrived aboard, also Commodore Ekwueme is hailing us.”

“Majority? Who's missing?”

“The chief of science and flight control,” they said.

“Put the Commodore through in here and have the senior staff assemble in the observation lounge in 30 minutes,” Gabriel said as he sat up in his chair.

“Yes, Sir. Bridge out,” they said as the intercom switched off and the desk screen showed the Human Commodore.

“Commodore, how nice to see you again,” Gabriel said as he faked a smile.

Sienna wandered into the conference room and checked her watch.  She was early.  She smiled as she pulled out her PADD and slid into one of the middle chairs.  The latest edition of The Olympic Journal had finally been released, and she'd just started reading the publisher's forward.  She began taking notes while waiting for the rest of her fellow crew to arrive.

Prim and proper, pristine as always, Lieutenant Commander Nisea strolled into the observation lounge exactly thirty minutes after the call had gone out from the Captain. Carrying a data PADD in one hand and a steaming mug of raktajino in the other, her pointed ears twitched upon taking her seat. There were still members of the team that she was weary of, having not properly met them yet, so she would watch them. She would watch them very closely indeed.

“Doctor Frisco,” she nodded once comfortable.

The good doctor gave her a quiet nod and returned to her journal.  The entries in this edition were startling in their investigation and revelations of the science of Frontier Day and some Borg-related studies that were ongoing.

Niala quietly walked into the room, her gaze fixed on the floor. Overhearing introductions, she gathered that at least two others were already present. Despite her inclination towards machines over people – a trait that led her to become an engineer – Niala had become accustomed to such gatherings throughout her career. She took a seat, nodding amicably at her colleagues.

Senja was next to arrive, also with PADD in hand. She took a seat that would bring the party into balance, with two on each side of the table and as she did so pushed the right side of her blonde hair behind a pointed-ear for practicality.

“Good day, everyone,” she offered, pleasantly, looking around the table with her intensely dark eyes. “Betzoid genetics being what they are, please forgive me for not shaking hands.” This was meant as information but also as an ice-breaker.

Hilea liked to arrive farther toward the start time. Coffee wasn't her favorite scent, and starships thrived on it. Sometimes, it allowed her respite in the way of seat choice; other times, it had to be endured. Nursing a large mug of Vulcan spice tea, she sat to one side, padd in hand. “Being a touch telepath,  physical contact can have unintended consequences.”

“Yes, exactly,” Senja agreed.

Niala's head tilted slightly forward, her eyes locking with those of the Operations Chief, she had a Vulcan appearance which strayed from the norm, a nod and a silent acknowledgment passing between them.

People-watching was a skill Commander Nisea had picked up many years ago, and was one especially useful for a security officer. She was able to recall the the minutest of details, even when it seemed like she was buried in a book, or zoned out from the inane chatter of a staff briefing, for example. Oh, how she hoped this meeting would begin soon.

The doors to the observation lounge opened and in walked Gabriel carrying a PADD. As he walked in he saw the faces of the people he would spreading the next chapter of his life with.

“Good morning, everyone,” he said as he walked towards his seat at the head of the table, “It is so nice to finally see my entire senior staff gathered in person,” he said as he sat down.

“If you would all state your name and position so that I can ensure you all are accounted for,” he said as he looked at everyone at the table, “I'll start Gabriel Jackson commanding officer.” 

Senja spoke next, her tone calm and her voice unimposing but firm. Her standard had a very slight accent. A linguist would pick it out as a mix of Nordic and Betazoid.

“Commander Senja Solberg. Executive Officer.”

Going around the table, the ship's tactical chief was next. “Lieutenant Commander Nisea, Chief Tactical Officer.”

Wondering why people didn't simply read the personnel files, Hilea was slightly annoyed. Not a good first start. “Hilea t'Rehu” She offered in halting Rihannsu. Switching to Standard, she added. “this is my second Federation posting. Chief Operations Officer. My last posting was doing refits on this class of ship. As humans are so fond of sayings, this is not my first rodeo.”

Turning to Nisea, she asked. "I would like to offer my services as sparring partner. Having spent several weeks in a runabout, I could use some aggressive stress relief. Perhaps some Llaekh-ae'rl?" The universal translator offered ‘laughing murder’ for the alien word. Looking over at Nisea, judging her reaction.

For a split second, Nisea wanted to chastise her colleague for being so brazen and foolish, but it didn't take long for her to sense an opportunity. "I'm sure that can be arranged" the security chief gave a single nod of confirmation whilst making a mental note to go over the woman's file again. Thoroughly. 

“Lieutenant Commander Lorra, Chief Engineer, sir.” Niala spoke, attempting to ease the tension.

At this moment the doors to the conference room opened once more. Entering the doors was a fresh young face. A Caitian. Wearing a crisp teal uniform, Lt Jg Azorius looked around the room at all the assembled faces, a little nervous.

It was his first assignment since graduating from his clinical years at the Academy and he had no idea how to act in this environment, but, it was his job to study and understand etiquette, so he knew he'd adapt. 

He walked to an empty seat and took it quietly, smiling to those gathered. “Oh, uh, hello… I'm Lt Azorius, your new Counselor, I do hope I am in the right place” he asked.

“Yes, you're in the right place, Lt. Azorius,” Gabriel said to the Catian officer.

“We are awaiting a head of Sciences,” Senja explained in her typically factual emotionless style as the Counsellor got settled. “As a former C.S.O. I shall be filling that role until we have someone. Captain?” The blonde turned from addressing the room to give the floor to the Captain for the mission brief.

“Good to have most of us all here together,” Gabriel said as he sat up in his chair, “A system on the edge of Federation space has been in a constant war for the better part of two decades. Recently they allowed Starfleet to send in relief supplies and equipment, and establish a small station on the edge of the system. Then at 08:00 hours, the peace treaty was broken. The Commissioners to the Federation were killed as well as a currently unknown amount of Starfleet officers. We've been ordered to repair any damage to the station or ships in the vicinity, and find out who or what killed the commissioners and the officers," He said as he looked around the table at the officers that occupied the space, “Are there any questions, comments or concerns?”

Frisco arched an eyebrow. Breaking a treaty with deaths usually meant injuries, and triage followed. She'd read the dossiers on her medical crew. They were competent, and some had been tested in previous postings. This mission would prove that Starfleet's work with them would be rewarded. She shook her head. The injury and fatality reports would be forwarded to her. All that was left was preparing sickbay and watching the clock.

Looking around the room, Hilea offered, “Sir, we're ready. We have to be. Down to few options, logical or otherwise. Honor demands no less.” Hilea ended with looking directly at Nisea.

“This is not about honour,” Nisea shook her head, the first demonstration to her colleagues that she was, perhaps, not their usual Romulan colleague. “This is simply about justice. These people have lost their lives, and it is our duty to bring the culprits to justice. Security should be tightened across the ship, Captain, and any away teams should be armed. Significantly.”

“I'm inclined to disagree,” Gabriel said looking at the Romulan officer, “As a former investigation officer arming away teams too much could push the culprits deeper into hiding,” Gabriel sat there not knowing what to say next. He could already feel the discourse between Hilea and Nisea wouldn't be good for anyone aboard.

“Number one,” he said turning to his esteemed deputy, “Any suggestions?”

Senja had been watching the other officers with interest since the Captain outlined their mission. The tension between Hilea and Nisea would need monitoring. Her reply was crafted with care to not intone anything that could be interpreted as criticism of any of the present parties.

“I suggest caution, Captain for the same reason you have just stated,” she responded in her typically scientific manner. “There is a potential for, as you say, driving the culprits deeper into hiding or to flee entirely and also to destabilise the situation from a diplomatic point of view. This is not a Federation system, we are guests, there is no requirement for compliance with Starfleet. Furthermore, if the culprits are aligned to one particular faction that fact alone could act as a tinderbox for more violence, between the inhabitants or towards us, or both.”

“Thank you, Number One,” Gabriel said as he turned his focus back to the audience at large. Senja's words stuck with him ‘If the culprits are aligned to one particular faction’ were repeated in his head over and over again. She could be right, there is an uncertainty that lies within this mission. For all they know this could all be a trap to lure in the Federation for an attack that could lead to war. This system has been in the diplomatic spotlight before when the Klingons were still attacking worlds and with the recent change in the Great Halls, it could be the first to fall to the growing ambitions of the Empire.

“Everyone, we're are embarking on a mission that can't be predicted so we must approach this situation with great caution," He said as he paused to let his words lay on his staff before he continued, “Commander," he said turning his focus to his Romulan subordinate, "Until we can prove that the culprits weren't one of the factions I cannot allow away teams to be armed beyond what regulation mandates. This could break diplomatic ties that are already strand,” Gabriel said as he sat back.

This mission was a disaster that even Admiral Picard would struggle with, this mission would test not only himself and his ability to lead but also the newly formed crew he had brought together. “Alert your departments," Gabriel said as he stood from his chair, “We are to depart in 10 minutes. Dismissed!” Turning to his right, “Number one meet me in my ready room in five minutes.” The X.O. looked up as she stood, hearing him address her.

“Yes, Captain.”

“I don’t know why you brought me here.”, said Eshrevi, drawing her antennae back in an indication of irritation, and, for good measure, raising her brows in a hint of confusion as she regarded Alcyone. Even though she was constantly complaining that Earth’s spring qualified as a hot Andorian summer, she knew that the other woman was freezing in the chilly air.

They had been walking for what felt like hours, and the wind had picked up, increasing at a steady pace the more the city faded into the background. It no longer carried the comforting scent of burning wood that had emanated from the many lit bonfires, or the merriment of the crowds that had gathered around them. Instead, its renewed vigour brought a chill that cut to the bone, causing even Eshrevi to tuck her hands into the pocket of her coat. 

“You’ll see.”, said Alcyone, trying to sound cheerful despite the other woman’s obvious disapproval. Disapproval which seemed to be the theme of a night that had been supposed to be a celebration. Not only because of the upcoming spring equinox, but because Eshrevi had good news. 

She had accepted a new posting, and with it a leap in her career. Chief Science Officer of the USS Valkyrie. Eshrevi was elated, and had expected Alcyone to be, too, but the joy had dissipated oh so quickly. Because Alcyone wouldn’t come with her. 

“You are upset.”, the Andorian stated as neutrally as was possible as their boots crunched on the freshly fallen snow with each step taken. There was a moment of silence before Alcyone spoke. “Yes.”, “It’s a big step for me. I guess I expected you to be proud of me, not selfish.”, Eshrevi stated coolly.

“I am.”, said Alcyone quietly and touched the Andorian’s hand as they walked, allowing their fingers to intertwine.

“The way I see it.”, Eshrevi started, and then after some consideration continued “I am just going first.”

“How do you mean?”“Well, I have to make sure it’s a good ship. Nice enough crew, nothing too dangerous. Competent Captain, agreeable Chief Medical Officer. And after a few months, I’ll ask for a favour and get you transferred.”

Which sounded so easy in theory, but would certainly be a challenge. But then, Eshrevi thrived on challenges.  

“Favours? Let’s face it, you are not the easiest person to get along with.”, teased Alcyone.

“I find myself perfectly agreeable.”, shrugged Eshrevi, and there was the slightest hint of a smile on her lips – a rare display of emotion that Alcyone knew was for her benefit.

“Of course you are.”“I know I can be a… what did you call it? Some kind of plant.”

“Cactus.”

Eshrevi nodded. “A cactus.” She paused, then asked. “What was a cactus again?”

“A plant with thorns.” 

“No, those are roses.” 

“More than one kind of plant can have thorns, Esh.”, sighed Alcyone. 

“Fine, cactus it is. The point I am trying to make is that I can behave myself, and before you know it, you’ll have transfer orders. If you live that long.”

“Huh?”

Esh shrugged her antennae. “You’re turning blue. Your lips are, anyway.”

“And you don’t like it?”

“Believe it or not, hypothermia is not my preferred aesthetic, no.”, Eshrevi opened the top two buttons of her coat and took off the scarf she had acquired when they had visited Paris just a few days prior. It was made from tarkalean wool, a material not known for being overly soft, but it was warm. “Here.”

“I don’t need it.”

“Take it or I’ll have us beamed back up to the Cupertino.”

“You can’t do that.”, protested Alcyone.

“Sure I can, this is my away team.”

Alcyone rolled her eyes. “We’re not an away team.”

“We’re away and we’re a team.”, smirked Eshrevi.

“I don’t think the Captain would appreciate that reasoning.”

“Then better get to it and put the scarf on, Lieutenant.”

Alcyone made a face but complied, and once Eshrevi nodded in approval, they resumed their trek on a snow-covered path that led them further uphill.

They took another steep incline until they reached a viewing platform which was devoid of any people, despite the breathtaking view it offered as it overlooked the city that sprawled below. Structures emerged with roofs cloaked in pristine white, and a golden glow of lights emanated from homes and street lamps, casting a warm hue over the cold expanse. The frozen river, cleverly diverted to weave through the heart of the city, reflected the brilliance of the lights, creating a glistening mosaic on its icy surface. It gave the scene a picturesque charm, and showed Alcyone’s hometown from its best side.“That is a lovely view.”, Eshrevi conceded and turned to Alcyone, when suddenly a loud bang shattered the serene silence. The unexpected noise echoed through the crisp night air, jolting both women from their reverie. Eshrevi let out a hiss, and pressed her antennae against her skull. In a swift and instinctual motion, she grabbed Alcyone and pulled her behind her. Alcyone, caught off guard, lost her footing on the icy ground and found herself unceremoniously seated in the cold snow. 

“Sugar.” Alcyone cursed, trying (and failing) to get up. “Eshrevi, it’s nothing. Look.”

Reluctantly, Eshrevi turned her gaze to where Alcyone had gestured. Just as her eyes focused on the source, a second bang resounded through the air. This time, however, Eshrevi noticed it accompanied by a dazzling display that painted the night sky. Silver stars erupted, shimmering against the dark canvas, only to vanish before a third and fourth burst followed in rapid succession. Her antennae relaxed.

“They are fireworks”, Alcyone said, stating the now obvious.

“I knew that.”, Eshrevi said, tinged navy and, without much ado, gracefully descended to join Alcyone where she sat in the snow while bursts of light continued to fill the night sky as the initial tension dissolved. “I thought they are a new-year thing. It’s March, that’s a little late…” 

“It’s a tradition. I think it was to scare evil spirits away. Something like that.”

“You humans are not the brightest star in the galaxy, are you?”, the Andorian said with a grin as she turned her attention back to the display above them.

Alcyone shrugged. “Well, I haven’t met any evil spirits, so I guess it works?”

“That’s fair.”, Eshrevi conceded. “We’ll be on the same ship again, soon. I promise.”

“I’d like that.”, Alcyone said and once slid her hand into Eshrevi’s, just in time for the grand finale. A deafening eruption of fireworks burst forth, transforming the entire sky into a fleeting masterpiece as giant, glittering blooms unfolded overhead, cascading comets streaked across the canvas, and crackling bursts of light created intricate patterns like celestial constellations coming to life.

And for a moment, before darkness reclaimed it, there were twice as many stars in the sky.