Dren Lor stood bent over the sink basin built into the wall at the end of his quarters, hunched over with both hands firmly grasping its edges as he stared at his reflection in the mirror.  It was a reflection he still barely recognized.  Partly because of the facial hair, but mostly it was his eyes.  The eyes of the Lor symbiont were what returned his gaze, not his own.  He wiped at his spotted brow before cupping both hands under the faucet.  It let off a lukewarm stream of water before clicking back off as he brought his hands up to his face.  He repeated the motion, the stream of water emitted from the sink clicking on and off with each turn until the Trill finally dragged his hands down the sides of his face one last time.  He reached for a hand towel hung off to the side, and used it to pat his visage dry.  Its white form bore the black silhouette of a California class vessel in front of a delta symbol.  The registry number and name of the Fresno was stitched into the bottom hem.

He let his mind wander over the events of the day.  Much of it had been spent down in engineering with Kiran Nivar and a team of his engineers as they had pulled up every entry they could find in the Starfleet database regarding the Pieris system and the unique form of background radiation its sun gave off.  They compared every scan that had ever been recorded, and held it up against what they knew of the types of soil sensors that Pieris IV was depending on for their readings of the ground worms and their enzymes.  And they had come up with absolutely nothing.  It was to be expected, Dren supposed.  It was a question that the researchers on the colony had already considered before they had even bothered to begin their efforts.  But it was the only lead they had at the moment, the only possibility that they could look into before arriving and actually seeing the sensors in question for themselves.  The crew of the Fresno needed to do their due diligence and rule it out for themselves.  So they had.

No, exhaustive as the day’s efforts had been, their results had come as no shock to the Trill science officer.  That particular distinction was reserved for the conversation that had taken place before this morning’s mission briefing.  That god damned pointy eared…  He sighed.  It wasn’t entirely fair to blame the Chief Medical Officer for doing her job.  While she had implied a willingness to be discreet about his overindulgence getting in the way of duty, however minor that particular duty was, Dren Lor had to admit the blame fell squarely on his shoulders.  He wasn’t sorry for himself.  He was sorry he’d dragged that young ensign down with him.  Dren was better than that.

“Ah, go easy on yourself.  You both barely even got a slap on the wrist.  It was nothing.  Besides, the damned kid is grown enough to make his own choices too.  He could have told you to piss off.”  He could imagine this voice in his head speaking back to him.  The voice of the Lor symbiont.  He stared into the unfamiliar gaze in the mirror that stared back at him.

“I could tell you to piss off, instead.” the Trill muttered out loud.

“Sure, you could.” his reflection seemed to say back at him.  A cocky little smirk played on his lips.  “Go back to the Commission and have them rip me out of you.  I’ll go into another host, and give them this once in a lifetime opportunity instead.  You can just suffer the effects of the withdrawal and die.  That sounds like a reasonable sentiment, doesn’t it?  Get real.  You wanted this.  You worked for it.  Now you have it.  Don’t tell me you regret the decision now, after everything you went through to make this happen.  There’s no going back, now.  The process is irreversible.”

“Go to hell!” Dren spat out loud at the mirror.  “Until you came along, I never would’ve–”

A chime sounded that interrupted Dren’s words and snapped him out of his thoughts.  Finding himself pulled from the moment, he stared at his reflection once more.  The unfamiliar face still stared back at him, but now it reflected the same sort of startled and confused expression that matched what the Trill felt.  Still unfamiliar, but now it somehow also seemed less alien.  It looked and felt more himself than it did just moments before, anyways.  The chime sounded for a second time before he could contemplate further on this, and Dren sighed.  He suddenly felt himself feeling irritable.  “Yes, enter!” he snapped.

The doors to his quarters slid open and Ensign Revek was stepping through the threshold.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you guys…” the young Denobulan paused, narrowing his eyes in seeming confusion at finding the science officer by himself.  “Oh!  I thought I heard a conversation going on in here.  I didn’t interrupt a subspace call to your folks or anything, did I?” Revek asked earnestly.

“Nah, you’re good.” Dren Lor responded with a defensive edge in his tone.  But then a rakish grin spread across his face.  Ever since this joining, slipping into a facade of bravado and confidence had become disturbingly easy, even when he truly didn’t feel it.   “Just talking out loud to myself.”

“Ah,” Revek nodded.  “I understand.  Ever since I’ve departed my home back on Denobula, I can’t quite kick the impulse to speak out loud either.  I told you last night about how full our home always was.  You never had a chance to be alone.  There was always someone there.  Always a discussion, at almost every waking moment.  It’s been an adjustment for me, especially now that my quarters belong to me alone.  I often fill the silence with monologue.  Is that what you were up to?”

“Yeah, sure kid.  It was something like that.” Dren Lor commented offhandedly.  “Was there something I could help you with?”

The young Ensign shook his head.  “No, nothing pressing.  I just wanted to stop by and thank you for earlier.  For trying to take the blame.  Wasn’t all your fault, though.  I shared in our error.”

See?  He’s a big kid.  Dren mentally swatted away at the small voice in the back of his mind.  He had a dismissive retort ready on the tip of his tongue, intending to brush it all off as nothing.  But instead he found a chirp interrupting him for a second time in only a few moments.  This time it was the unmistakable sound of both Dren Lor and Revek’s comm badges going off at the same time.  “Attention, Lieutenants Rix and Dren Lor.  Attention, Ensign Revek.  Please report to shuttle bay three.”

The two officers regarded each other at the unexpected summons.  “Huh.  Now what do you suppose that’s all about?” Dren Lor asked.

As the entry to Shuttle Bay 03 swished open, the duo were greeted by their Captain and the helmsman.  They both stood near a shuttle that appeared to be going through the stages of a preflight check.  Huntington was stenciled on either side of the craft in red cursive lettering.  At the sound of Dren and Revek’s entrance, Michael and Lenara Rix looked up.  Michael’s gaze was expectant, urgent.  Dren thought he detected a giddy sort of glint in the eyes of Lenara.  The Trill nodded solemnly, already putting two and two together.  “Looks like we’re going somewhere.” he commented offhandedly.

“Ah, excellent.” Michael was already saying as the two approached.  It seemed he was going to launch into whatever this was about without much preamble.  “I’m sending the three of you off on an away mission.”

Revek glanced furtively between the shuttle and his Captain.  “Sir, this isn’t about this morning, is it?”

The Captain frowned in confusion, taken aback by the nervousness of his young Denobulan Communications Officer.  “Pardon, Ensign?” he inquired.

“We disappointed you before we even got our first assignment.” Revek clarified nervously.  “You don’t trust us on this mission, now.”  The Denobulan sounded defeated.

Dren found himself giving his companion an incredulous look at the forthrightness of the statement.  Michael seemed as equally stunned for a moment, before finally snorting out a nervous laugh.  “What?  Oh, god no!”  He let out another nervous chuckle before straightening up to a more serious, solemn expression.  “No, sorry Ensign.  Look, you guys are good.  I meant what I said, it’s behind us.  We had to have a talk about it, and we did.  No big deal, long as that was a one time thing.  Already forgotten about.”

“What’s our assignment here, Captain?” Dren put in, trying to change the subject for the uncomfortable Ensign and figure out what they really were called down here for.  “I take it something came up.”

“That is correct, Lieutenant.” Michael confirmed, nodding.  He gave Revek a solemn look.  “Truth is, I’m extending a measure of trust in sending the three of you.  This isn’t some kind of banishment.”  Revek seemed to ease up in his tense posture at the Captain’s encouragement.  “We’re still enroute to Pieris IV, but we’ve slightly altered our course.  We received a distress call from a civilian cargo hauler that regularly comes in and out of the system that goes by the name of Ardent Dawn.  They provide Pieris IV with the supplies they need while they’re still getting their operation off of the ground.  The Arden Dawn is experiencing some difficulties and can use our help to get them on their way again.  We’re going to drop out of warp long enough for you three to get out there and dock with them.  You’ll help them out, and then link back up with us at the colony to help finish off the rest of that assignment.”

The Trill quirked a brow in confusion, giving his science blues a pointed glance.  “Why not send over an engineer, if I’m not being too forward, Captain?”

Michael nodded, an ironic grin acknowledging the validity of the question.  “I did think about sending Lieutenant Kiran Nivar over.  I was a chief engineer myself before I moved up the ranks once upon a time, so the mission wouldn’t necessarily be sacrificing the expertise of one if he left the Fresno.”  He shook his head.  “But I couldn’t bring myself to come to that decision.  My place is on the bridge.  Mister Kiran is my chief engineer, and I need my chief engineer here with the Fresno for our assignment.  I might have chose differently if this distress call was the focus of the mission, but it’s not.”  He shrugged.  “Your expertise is the next best thing, we all were chosen for the Fresno because most of us have a knack for engineering even when it isn’t our main role.  Miss Rix is flying you over because she’s also pretty handy at getting things fixed up.  Revek is going because while their comms aren’t the main cause of their problems, the Ardent Dawn’s communications gear does seem to be residually affected to a small degree.”  Michael gave the Communications Officer a nod, directing his words now to him.  “I felt you might be able to give them a look and see what the correlation might be to their larger issue at hand.”

“What exactly are they reporting, sir?” Dren pressed on.

“Sensor issues.” Michael said bluntly.  “In particular, their navigation sensors were suddenly overloaded and fried.  They’re not dead in space, particularly.  But they might as well be until their navigation system is back up and those sensors can keep doing their job of telling them precisely where in space they are.”  He gave the Trill a leveled gaze, searching the Science Officer’s eyes as though expecting some sort of recognition.

Dren Lor did not disappoint.  His hackles were already raised.  “Funny, that.  What with the colony having overloaded soil sensors, and all.”

Michael nodded approvingly.  “Isn’t it, though?  Too coincidental.”  He clapped the other man on the shoulder.  “I know you were only recently joined.  But Lor has been around the block, as the saying goes.  I’m counting on that experience, which is the other reason I chose to roll with you.  Trust your gut.  If anything feels even just a little fishy…”  Whatever else he was about to say was cut off as his badge suddenly chirped.  He tapped it.  “Dart, here.  What’s up?”

“Just thought you should know, we’re dropping out of warp now.” The clipped tones of Thalissa Zheen was saying over the channel.

“Understood, resume our course and go back to warp the moment Huntington leaves our bay and is safely out of range.  Dart out.”  Michael tapped his badge again to cut the transmission and looked back to Dren.  “Just keep your head on a swivel is all I’m saying.  You guys had better dust off.”

Dren watched their captain turn and depart through the doors, presumably to rejoin the bridge.  He turned to share a look with Revek, to gauge the young Ensign’s reaction to Captain Dart’s warnings.  The Denobulan shrugged.  Dren then regarded the dark skinned junior Lieutenant left standing with them.  The eager glint was still there, but it was presently subdued under a layer of professionalism now that it seemed they would be jumping into the task at hand.  “We all set to go?” He asked her.

The helmsman and pilot turned a questioning gaze towards the boarding ramp of the shuttlecraft.  A pair of ensigns were emerging, and they recognized her unspoken inquiry.  “She’s all yours, ma’am.  Everything is nominal.”

“Guess so, sir.” Lenara confirmed as she turned back to Dren Lor.  She gestured to the ramp.  “After you, gentlemen.  Buckle up and I’ll get us over in one piece.”

After the three of them had settled into their seats, Lenara was guiding their craft off of the Fresno’s deck.  The containment field at the end of the shuttle bay allowed the Huntington to pass through with a pop.  The hum of the shuttle engines intensified as Lenara kicked up their speed and pointed them towards the civilian cargo hauler that hung nearby.  As Dren turned to stare out the side viewport, looking back at the Fresno, he watched it briefly appear to elongate before winking out of existence with a flash.  The squat looking California class vessel had gone to warp to resume its course towards Pieris IV.

“Shuttle Huntington to Ardent Dawn.  Do you copy?”  Ensign Revek was already taking up his duties as the comms officer.  After a moment of silence, he persisted.  “Huntington to Ardent Dawn.  Acknowledge.”  Silence was all that greeted them.  He turned a questioning look over to Dren Lor.  Lenara Rix was also casting an expectant gaze in his direction.

Dren nodded in acknowledgement.  He was the senior officer here.  It was his place to call the next shot.  “Well, Captain Dart did tell us their communications gear was also affected.  The extent of those issues must’ve advanced since the Ardent Dawn had put out her distress call.  Bring us in slowly, Lieutenant Rix.  We’ll just have to dock and see who greets us on the other end.”  He didn’t like the uncertainty of the prospect.

“Sirs, if I could be granted access to control our forward lights?”  Revek spoke up.  “Standard protocol calls for a secondary attempt at communications when standard communications equipment appear to be inoperative.”

“Right, of course.” Dren nodded to Lenara Rix.  “Can you send that over to his console?”

“Handing off exterior lighting control now.” the junior Lieutenant assented as her hands danced over her console.

As the shuttle Huntington eased closer to the Ardent Dawn, its exterior lights flashed in a series of deliberate coded sequences as Revek attempted to convey their intent to board.  Once the distance was closed, Lenara flipped them around until the aft end of the shuttle was pointed towards a hatch coupling on the exterior port side of the civilian cargo hauler.  Momentum kept them drifting on their current course.  Attitude jets hissed as Lenara aligned the couplings of the two craft.  Their two hatches finally made contact and a thud reverberated through the hull as the connections were locked into place.  Dren found himself watching the process with bated breath.  He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous.  The Ardent Dawn had requested their help, after all.  But Captain Dart’s final words rang in the Trill’s ears.  Keep your head on a swivel.  Something about the coincidence of this didn’t sit right with their Captain, and Dren found himself in agreement.