The top half of commander Salan’s body and his head were clearly visible on Commander Anacostia-Bolling monitor, in her Ready Room.  “So this was completely your idea then.  To create this fake medical emergency on Royce III?” He asked in his usual calm manner.

“Yes that’s correct.” She happily confirmed.  “I needed to track down an unknown individual who may be in a position to help us track down the Stavanger.”

“And at what point did it suddenly dawn on you the enormity of the situation you’d created?” The Vulcan’s eyebrows moved upwards in only a way their race had ever mastered.  That clear look of puzzlement and fascination; that basically indicated how badly you’ve messed up, without the need for words.

“Not until I was informed of actual how many people live in Reliance City.” Her head sunk a little.

“The estimated population of the city, being?” Salan knew the answer; he just wanted his fellow Commander to say it out loud.

“It’s 27,400.” The da Vinci’s Captain replied.

“How long did Doctor Sunny tell you it would take to administer the treatment to everyone?”  The Vulcan was doing his own quick calculation as he spoke, interested to see how close he got his figures.

“He said over two and a half days.” She mumbled.  The point had been that even though they’d found who they wanted within the first few hours, she couldn’t just order a halt to the injections; otherwise it would become obvious this was all a ruse.

“Well 19 hours if no one took any breaks by my calculation.” Salan announced matter of factually. “But the doctor’s answer sounds logical.”

“It just seemed the quickest solution to the problem I was faced with.” Anacostia-Bolling sighed.

“What seems the quickest at first glance might not always be the case.” He intoned, eyebrow inclined.  “And you wondered why I was asked to oversee your mission.”

That last part stung, but A-B knew in a way she was asking for it. “I’ll assess any situation more carefully in the future.”

“I’m sure you will Commander.” The Vulcan replied.  “Hold your position; we’re heading your way.  Jaxartes out.”

She sat starring at the Federation Logo; which replaced the Vulcan on her screen, until the door chime sounded a few moments later. “Enter.”

Lieutenant-Commander Alara Ley her Trill First Officer, stepped inside once the door opened.  She took one look at her commanding officer. “That bad was it?”

“Commander Salan has such a wonderful way of putting you down without being openly critical.” A-B answered.

“Want to talk about it?” Alara walked over to the replicator and instinctively requested a black coffee for herself and tea form Mary.

**********

Lieutenant JG Devron vacated the captain’s chair aboard the USS Jaxartes as Commander Salan entered the Bridge. “All quite here Sir.” The young man informed the Vulcan officer.

“Thank you Mr Devron. I have the Bridge”  Salan sat down.  “Ensign Harris, set course for the Royce system Warp 5.”

“Aye Captain.  Bringing her round on heading 220 mark 013, and engaging warp.” The New Zealand announced.  “ETA to the Royce system in six hours.”

The stars on the main view screen turned to streaks of light as the ship jumped to warp and headed off to join up with the da Vinci once more.

“A problem Sir?” Devron ask, regarding the change of course.

“You humans have such a skill at jumping into things without fully exploring the possibilities or consequences.”  The Vulcan commented. “And yet, so often it seems to yield the required results.”

“It’s just a knack we have.” Replied the Lieutenant.

“Mmm, indeed, most perplexing.”  Salan raised an eyebrow.

Devron tried not to smile too much at his commanding officers comment, but the Vulcan did have a point; the human race did have a habit of leaping in before looking.  Things had eased back into normality between the two of them, and things aboard the Raven-class corvette seemed much better for it.  The rest of the crew were happy and worked well because of it.

“Permission to be excused Sir?”  Devron asked politely.  Officially his shift had ended twenty minutes ago, but shifts and work schedules on such a small ship were rarely adhered to.  You worked when you were needed, slept, ate and relaxed, when the opportunity was available.  It was rough and demanding, but Jason didn’t mind too much.

Formerly excused, he headed for sickbay to check on Doctor Andrianakis.  Just as he reacted the door with was only a few paces from the Bridge, the ships current Chief Engineer Albert Torf, was just exiting.  The Betazoid turned.  “Just getting checked out.” He half smiled.  Devron smiled back and nodded in understanding.

It was a wonder to some, how he’d managed to keep going after being near death on two separate occasions.  The first as a result of a rogue Borg attempting to assimilate him and the second after having been beaten and drugged by the Devore when he was seized by them.  Both events had clearly taken their toll, despite the engineer’s attempts to appear upbeat and cheerful.  His face had aged, well beyond the 28 years of age he actually was, and there was a hint of grey above the ears on his otherwise dark brown hair.

Once out of sight, Torf’s confident strides slowed.  He’d managed to pass another medical test; they came regular, due to all that had happened to him.  But it was far from easy.  The doctor had noted his elevated heart rate and he was already taking medication to alleviate the symptoms of the damage to his right lung.  He’d managed to mask the amount of pain he truly was in, but it was a struggle.  It may have seemed stupid and foolish to carry on like this; but this ship needed him, and all he had to do was make it into the New Year.  Just a few more for days, that’s all it was, by then Dinari would be back.  Then Albert could consider his future, even if that future meant giving up the thing he loved most.

Crewman Tyson was keeping an eye on everything in Main Engineering, monitoring the Warp Core which was humming and pulsing away, now the ship was hurtling along. Having spent just under a year, here on the Jaxartes, George had decided he wanted to further his career in engineering and become an officer.  He’s stood in for the Chief when the Betazoid had been injured, so it was clear to everyone he had the knowledge, or at least a good portion of it.  He’d also proved how determined he was; and only regretted not making the commitment right from the start.

“How did it go?” He asked, referring to the medical as he heard the Chief enter.

“You know me; fighting fit and raring to go.” Torf knew that was a lie, as much to himself as the young man he was working with.  “How’s everything in here?”

Tyson gave him a quick rundown of anything that had happened or he’d done in the past half hour.  Everything was operating well within expected parameters.  All the work the engineering team from the Alchemist had put in to repair the ship after its ‘Underspace’ encounter had certainly improved how well this Raven ran.  It had made their lives a lot easier, that was something they were both sure of.

**********

Another member of the crew was seated in the Communication Booth; it was a small private room set up so the crew could contact relatives and friends.  Everyone was allotted so much time per week, which they booked in advance; but no one, so far had complained if someone else had gone a minute or two over.

Crewman Ishan Rahul was chatting with his grandfather, the man who’d more or less brought him up, and who had encouraged him on this career path.  “No Mātāmaha, I have not had the chance.” The young man answered the previously asked question.  “It is far from easy to accomplish on a ship this small.”

His grandfather moaned at him.

“I’m sorry Mātāmaha.  But if you’d only explain to me why I have to do this?”

The grandfather spoke again, angrily.

“I understand, the next chance I get. I will not fail you. I promise.”