The rhythmic splashes echoed around the Olympic-sized pool, each stroke propelling Hawkins closer to the wall at the far end. His focus narrowed, blocking out thoughts of Orlando, of the mission, of everything except the water rushing past. He had been briefed by Admiral Jaret earlier, and now he just wanted the time to not think about it all. A few laps in the station’s huge pool was a welcome distraction. Just as his hand stretched forward, fingertips brushing the pool wall, he felt the faint ripple of movement beside him—Ensign Tate Horin was close, only centimetres away. With a final push, Hawkins touched the wall a fraction of a second ahead, emerging victorious by the slimmest of margins.

As they both caught their breath, Horin grinned, brushing water from his face. “Nice one, Lieutenant. I almost had you.”

Hawkins chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned against the pool edge. “Almost,” he replied with a playful smirk. “But not quite, Tate.”

Horin tilted his head, his expression shifting from amusement to mild concern. “I could sense your mind wandering. You seemed… distracted. Everything okay?”

For a moment, Hawkins considered deflecting, but he forced a lighthearted smile. “Just a lot on my plate. Nothing to worry about.” He clapped Horin on the shoulder. “I’m good, really. Thanks.”

Horin gave him a sceptical look but didn’t push further. Since Tate’s torture by the Caatati refugees a few months ago, he and Hawkins had been spending a lot of time together, and one of them was here in the station’s swimming pool. Both of them were strong swimmers and would race each other on several occasions. When Hawkins called the young ensign up out of the blue for a race in the pool, Horin didn’t hesitate to accept the invite and met Hawkins outside the changing rooms, ready to go. 

Before Horin could respond and share his concerns for Hawkins, Doctor Jowain Parin’s familiar figure appeared at the poolside, arms crossed and smiling slightly. 

Hawkins waved him over, calling out, “Hey, Jowain! Care to join us?”

Parin shook his head, smiling back. “Not today. My swimming gear is back in my quarters, and I’m not competing against you two speedies. I’m just here to talk for a bit.”

Taking the cue, Horin pushed himself up out of the pool. “Thanks for the swim, Tom. You’re still the fastest officer I know.” He glanced at Parin. “We still on for kickboxing tomorrow?”

Parin nodded, offering a friendly smile. “Wouldn’t miss it. See you tomorrow, Tate.”

Horin nodded, slinging his towel over his shoulder as he headed toward the changing rooms. As he disappeared around the corner, Parin extended a hand to Hawkins, who accepted it, pulling himself out of the pool with a splash.

“Something on your mind, Jowain?” Hawkins asked a tinge of curiosity in his voice. He took the towel that Parin offered, wrapping it around his waist and covering his swimming trunks.

Parin’s expression softened, his eyes studying Hawkins with concern. “Tom, can we sit down for a moment?” he asked, gesturing toward a nearby bench.

Hawkins shrugged, following him over and taking a seat. As he towelled off his hair, he glanced at Parin, already guessing the subject of their conversation. “Look, if this is about the mission…”

Parin sighed, crossing his arms. “As your best friend, Tom, I have every reason to be worried. You know what’s at stake—and I don’t just mean the mission itself. I’m talking about what you’re carrying into it.”

Hawkins felt a tug in his chest, the weight of the past creeping in. Parin knew it so well. They had spent many long evenings talking about Orlando and the things that Hawkins had experienced while undertaking covert operations. Jowain had become like the brother Hawkins never had. They shared everything, and Hawkins considered him the best friend ever. He held Parin’s gaze. “I appreciate you looking out for me, Jowain. Really. But I’m stronger now. I know what I’m doing.”

Parin’s brows furrowed as he tried to make his point. “Tom, you know this mission has risks. And if Orlando is involved…”

A flash of pain crossed Hawkins’s eyes, but he quickly masked it. “If he’s there, I’ll handle it.” His tone was firm, his expression resolved. “I’m not the same person I was. I’m better prepared now.”

Parin’s mouth tightened, and he leaned forward, dropping his voice slightly. “Tom, please reconsider. This isn’t just another assignment—it’s personal. That’s why McPherson wants you to go. And you’re still healing, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

Hawkins’s response was quiet but resolute. “Would you stop Tate from carrying out his duties after what happened with the Caatati?”

Parin exhaled sharply, momentarily thrown off by the comparison. “That’s different, and you know it. Between Taf, you, and myself, we’ve worked with him to help him rebuild after everything he went through.” Parin hesitated. “But you… you’ve been unable to confront Orlando since he got up and left. I swear if I ever saw that son of a bitch again, he wouldn’t know what would have hit him, so I can only imagine what you’re thinking and feeling.”

Hawkins placed a hand on Parin’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “You, Captain Levy, Sturok and the rest of the team helped me through it all. I know what to expect, and I won’t let what happens out there control me.”

Seeing that Hawkins’s mind was set, Parin let out a long sigh, surrendering to his friend’s determination. “I just wish I could be there with you, at least for support and to give Orlando the biggest kick in the arse he has ever received.”

Hawkins chuckled, appreciating his friend’s sentiments before he pulled Parin into a brief hug. “Thanks, Jowain. For everything.” He let Parin go, laughing when his friend playfully grimaced.

“Wet hug. Really, Tom?” Parin said with a half-hearted attempt at wiping his now-damp uniform sleeve.

Hawkins grinned, patting Parin on the shoulder. “You’ll survive. And thank you, really.” As he drew back, he raised an eyebrow at Parin, his tone turning playful. “You sure you don’t want to hop in for a few laps? It’ll clear your head and let you get rid of that frustration you have about Orlando. I can go replicate a pair of trunks for you.”

Parin rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “As much as I’d love a swim, I’ve got reports waiting back in the infirmary.”

Hawkins chuckled, nodding. “All right, then. I’ll leave you to it.”

Parin watched Hawkins dove back into the water, his strokes clean and powerful, cutting through the pool with practised ease. He lingered for a moment, watching his friend glide through the water before returning to his duties, hoping that Hawkins’s resolve would carry him through what lay ahead.

Hawkins sat alone at a small table in the station’s replimat, cradling a steaming cup of raktajino between his hands. The hum of nearby conversations and the clatter of utensils created a steady background noise, but his mind was elsewhere. His thoughts were once again drifting to Orlando and the mission ahead, questions turning over like stones he couldn’t settle. 

“Mind if I join you, Lieutenant?

He looked up to see Captain Levy standing beside the table, holding a cup of tea. Her eyes were warm, softened by the faintest of smiles, and without waiting for an answer, she pulled out the chair across from him. Hawkins straightened slightly, surprised but not unwelcome to the company.

“Captain,” he greeted her, trying to keep his tone light. “To what do I owe the honour?”

Levy chuckled softly, setting her tea down and meeting his gaze with a motherly warmth. “Oh, I was just passing by and figured I’d check in on one of my favourite officers.”

Hawkins couldn’t help but smile, though he saw through her casual tone. She wasn’t here just to say hello. He took a sip of his raktajino, glancing back at her. “Checking in on me, Captain? Or checking up?”

Levy smirked, not easily deflected. “Maybe a bit of both.” She paused, letting her expression turn more serious. “I know you, Tom. And I know this mission has layers to it. More than just Starfleet orders.”

Hawkins held her gaze momentarily, then looked down at his cup, fidgeting with the handle. “I’m fine, Captain. I can handle it.” He knew how hollow his words sounded, but he didn’t want to dive into the tangled mess inside his head. Not now.

Levy reached across the table, resting her hand lightly on his forearm. “It’s okay not to be fine, you know. I’m here if you need someone to talk to, no judgments. What you’re about to do—it’s not an easy thing for anyone.”

He glanced at her hand, feeling the warmth and comfort it offered, before meeting her eyes again. “I appreciate that, Captain. Really. But I’m ready.” He gave her a firm nod, hoping she’d take him at his word. “This is something I have to do.”

She studied him, her gaze sharp but kind, assessing his conviction. “Tom, I don’t doubt your readiness. You’re one of the best officers I’ve ever served with. But that doesn’t mean you have to shoulder everything alone. You know you have friends, people who care about you.”

He felt a pang of gratitude mixed with guilt. “I know,” he replied quietly. “And… thank you, Captain. For everything you, Commander Sturok and Doctor Parin have done for me.”

Levy’s hand gave his arm a reassuring squeeze before she withdrew it, leaning back in her chair. “You know, there’s no shame in deciding this mission isn’t worth it.”

Hawkins shook his head slightly, his voice firm. “Captain, this mission—it’s my responsibility. Orlando and I were always a team. And whatever happens, I’ll face it.”

Levy exhaled softly, a sigh tinged with understanding and concern. “You’re a lot braver than you give yourself credit for, Tom.” She lifted her cup, offering him a slight smile. “But make sure you come back to us. This station wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Hawkins chuckled softly, touched by the sentiment. “I will. Promise.”

Levy glanced at the time, reluctantly standing.

“Well, I won’t keep you from your raktajino any longer,” she said, patting his shoulder gently as she stood. “But remember what I said. You’re not alone in this, no matter what it feels like.”

Hawkins nodded, watching as she turned and walked away. Her words lingered with him, bringing a sense of calm he hadn’t felt since he’d received the mission. Alone at the table, he took another sip, letting the warmth of the raktajino settle him. 

Hours later, Hawkins had returned to his quarters and was getting himself ready for bed. Deciding to have a shower before he called it a night, Hawkins was enjoying his own privacy. The soft hum of the sonic shower enveloped Hawkins, and he leaned his head back, closing his eyes as the soothing waves washed over him. He enjoyed the warmth of the pulsating sonic waves, letting them melt away the tension knotted deep within his muscles. He allowed himself to drift for a moment, focusing solely on the comforting heat, the gentle rhythm easing the weight of the day from his shoulders. Here, in the quiet solitude of his quarters, he could almost pretend the mission wasn’t looming, that there wasn’t a storm gathering just on the horizon.

But, of course, the silence wouldn’t last long. A chime at the door interrupted his thoughts. Hawkins kept his eyes closed, hoping that whoever it was would leave if he didn’t answer. Another chime sounded persistent.

With a reluctant sigh, he shut off the shower, stepping out and wrapping a towel around his waist. He walked over to the door, opening it to find Commander Sturok standing calmly in the doorway, hands behind his back, his expression as imperturbable as ever.

“Commander,” Hawkins greeted, caught off guard. “Is everything all right?”

Sturok dipped his head slightly. “Apologies for the intrusion, Lieutenant. I was hoping to speak with you if you are available.”

Hawkins nodded, stepping aside to let Sturok into the room. “Sure, come on in. What can I do for you?”

Sturok entered, taking in the surroundings with a quiet glance before his attention returned to Hawkins. “This mission, Lieutenant. While I understand you are well-trained for such operations, I felt it necessary to convey my perspective, as well as my support.”

Hawkins raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the Vulcan’s choice of words. “I appreciate that, sir. But I’m fine. I know what I’m walking into.”

“Perhaps,” Sturok replied calmly, his tone carrying a hint of gravity. “However, you would be unwise to ignore the inherent complexities of this particular assignment, particularly given the presence of Mister Radcliffe.”

Hawkins’s mouth tightened at the mention of Orlando. He slightly nodded, staying silent, knowing that Sturok would continue.

“The emotional bond you once shared may prove a formidable challenge, even for someone as disciplined as yourself,” Sturok continued. “I must caution you, Lieutenant, to remain vigilant in assessing your responses to him. Personal attachment, no matter how deeply buried, has the potential to cloud one’s logic in ways that even the most seasoned officers might struggle with.”

Hawkins ran a hand through his damp hair, considering Sturok’s words. “I understand the risk, sir. But I’ve had time to compartmentalise what happened between us. My focus will be on the mission, no matter what.”

Sturok inclined his head. “Compartmentalisation is an effective technique. However, I would urge you to maintain active self-awareness throughout your encounter with Radcliffe. Even in subtle ways, your responses will reveal themselves, especially to one who knows you well.”

Hawkins sighed, a mixture of appreciation and apprehension rising within him. “Are you suggesting I need to be wary of Orlando himself?”

“Not necessarily,” Sturok replied, his expression unfaltering. “Mister Radcliffe’s allegiances, while unclear, may not be the primary issue. It is your own ability to observe without emotional interference that may prove the true challenge. You must prepare yourself for the unexpected, Lieutenant, and adapt quickly without falling prey to sentimentality.”

Hawkins let out a short, quiet laugh. “So, trust my training, stay focused on the objective, and ignore whatever baggage Orlando and I might still have. Sounds simple enough.”

A glimmer of something close to amusement flickered in Sturok’s eyes. “Indeed, if one is Vulcan. However, your human instincts will likely present alternative responses. Ones you must control.”

Hawkins exhaled deeply, gathering his resolve. “Thank you, Commander. Your advice… it helps. I’ll make sure I stay aware of my own reactions, regardless of what Orlando says or does.”

Sturok nodded approvingly. “Then perhaps I have imparted the wisdom necessary. Remember, Lieutenant, that even a momentary lapse can impact the mission outcome in these situations. Trust yourself, but remain vigilant.”

As Sturok moved toward the door, he turned once more, raising his hand in the familiar Vulcan salute. “Lieutenant Hawkins, live long and prosper.”

Hawkins mirrored the gesture, finding a genuine sense of calm in the Vulcan’s quiet presence. “Thank you, Commander. I’ll make sure your advice doesn’t go to waste.”

With a final nod, Sturok departed, leaving Hawkins alone with his thoughts, fortified by his friend’s logical counsel.

For the first time since the admiral had briefed him, Hawkins felt much better about the mission that lay ahead of him. The advice and support from his colleagues had reassured him. 

And let Orlando be damned, he thought as he returned to the sonic shower.