A female voice cut through the hum of the astrometric office over the comms. “Captain Varro, this is Commander Feringa. Apologies for the interruption, sir, but we’ve just received word from the USS Discovery—they’ve entered the sector and will be ready to transport Commander Brennan over once they’re in range.”

Captain Callen Varro’s eyes flicked up from the star chart, his gaze shifting automatically to the viewport. The star systems sprawled before him, endless and cold, but his mind was already elsewhere. He could almost feel the Discovery dropping out of warp, its sleek form coming into view, its engines cooling as it slowed to a halt. He let the moment hang before replying, his voice steady, yet carrying the hint of a smile. “Thank you, Commander. I’ll head to the transporter bay to welcome her. Varro out.”

The moment the comms clicked off, Varro rose from his chair, his uniform creaking softly as he adjusted his sleeves. He paused for a second, fingers brushing against the edge of his desk, before stepping toward the door. As he walked, his mind wandered back to the reports from Starbase 339. The station’s redesign had been far from smooth. Delays, frustration, and problems with the crew that hadn’t been in the official reports. He knew Brennan would have faced it all with her usual level-headed precision, but he couldn’t help wondering about the details—the ones that never made it into the logs.

The low hum of the station was ever-present as he made his way through the corridors, his boots clicking steadily against the floor. He had missed her. It wasn’t just the command decisions or the reports he needed; it was the way she cut through the noise with that sharp, no-nonsense approach of hers. Without her at his side, things had moved, but the pace had been different—slower, somehow.

He reached the transporter bay, the door sliding open with a soft hiss. The familiar yellowish hue of the back panel and the quiet buzz of machinery greeted him. The transporter chief was already waiting, hands resting casually on the controls.

“Sir,” the chief said, looking up and giving a quick, efficient nod. “The Discovery has just dropped out of warp and is standing by. They’re awaiting your go for transport.”

Varro’s eyes narrowed, his gaze briefly flicking to the transporter pad where Brennan would soon materialize. His lips quirked into a small, knowing smile as he gave a slight nod.

“Perfect,” he said, the word a mix of anticipation and a quiet sense of relief. His eyes sparkled as he turned to the chief. “Energize.”

Cressida Brennan didn’t consider herself paranoid – just painfully aware of her surroundings. That vigilance extended from keeping taps on the men and women that she worked with and was responsible for, to navigating the political landscape of the sector, and finally, making a habit of simply knowing what was on her Commanding Officer’s mind rather than having to ask him.

She had returned to Deep Space 17 in the hopes of escaping the constant tension that was Starbase 339, if only for a brief moment. Brennan certainly had her disagreements with Varro, but those had always been constructive and respectful discussions that resulted in solutions both of them could live with.

But she materialised on the transporter pad and caught sight of him, she could tell that something was up. And she didn’t like it in the slightest.

“Sir.”, she said curtly, in the clipped and precise manner she defaulted to, but dropped the overly formal mannerism just as quickly and offered a smile.  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were waiting to spring bad news on me.”

Better to get these things out of the way and focus on pleasantries later.

Varro’s lips curved into a sly smirk as his gaze lingered on her, a silent challenge sparking in his eyes. With a fluid motion, he extended his hand, inviting her to walk beside him.

 “Welcome back to Deep Space 17, Commander,” he said, his voice smooth and unhurried. He pivoted and began to walk, his boots clicking rhythmically against the metallic floor. As he moved, he cast a glance over his shoulder, the grin still tugging at his mouth. “I was actually waiting for you to do the same.”

Brennan gave him a pointed look but fell into step behind him regardless. There was a strange sense of ease in returning, and in slipping into the position of a follower rather than a leader, even if only for a moment. She allowed herself a brief appreciation of the familiar dynamic before speaking. “Let’s just say it’d be quicker to list what is going well,” she admitted after a pause. “The delays are a cause of frustration, and apparently, half the staff has resorted to gambling to keep themselves entertained.”

Varro’s step faltered, his boot hovering just above the deck before he pushed forward, his movements suddenly more focused, more deliberate. A shadow passed across his face, and his jaw clenched, forcing himself to regain control. “The gambles stop now,” he said, his tone sharp, each word carefully measured. His eyes flicked down the corridor, scanning the emptiness as if waiting for something to emerge from the silence. Reaching an empty lounge, he came to a sudden halt, pivoting to face his XO. “Something’s come up,” he said, his voice low, the weight of the statement hanging in the air.

There it is, Brennan thought, and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach. Her interest in the political intricacies of the fleet was not much more than a pastime when novels and holo-adventures no longer entertained, but the undercurrents of bureaucratic dynamics weren’t lost on her either.
She gave a subtle nod, waiting for him to continue.

“I received word this morning,” Varro said, his voice steady as his eyes met hers. His hand rested casually on the back of a nearby chair, but the subtle shift in his posture hinted at something more. “I’m being transferred. Effective immediately.” He let the words settle, watching for even the smallest flicker in her expression.

He leaned back slightly, his fingers tapping once against the chair’s edge before he continued, his tone lighter but deliberate. “Turns out the USS Discovery wasn’t just your ride here.” A faint, almost playful smile tugged at his lips. “They’re also my escort.” He paused for effect, letting the weight of his next words carry on their own. “To Fourth Fleet Command. I’ll be serving as Director of Operations.”

The smile deepened as he stood there, silent now, his eyes scanning her face for any reaction, the hum of the room amplifying the unspoken tension between them.

Brennan responded with what anyone would deem perfectly professional – a “Congratulations, sir”, and a polite smile that hovered just shy of sincerity.
Internally, it felt as though her brain had activated its own emergency protocol, including red-alert klaxon and flashing lights. Critical systems compromised. Brace for impact.
“Who will be replacing you?”, she asked eventually.

“Admiral Katelyn Jenson is on her way,” he said, his voice even as he folded his arms. His gaze drifted toward the viewport, where the faint glow of distant stars punctuated the dark expanse. “She’ll be stepping in to handle Task Force 17 for now.” He paused, his brow furrowing slightly before he continued, the words carrying a deliberate weight. “At least until the new CO is ready.” His tone remained calm, but the way his fingers tapped once against his arm hinted at the significance of the change.

“I see.”, Brennan said, mostly for the lack of anything better to say. Jenson was considered capable and competent, and someone whose wealth of experience would certainly serve Task Force 17 well, if it wasn’t for that one, unforgivable flaw of her not being Varro.

“I see… that’s all you’re going to say?” Varro’s voice cut through the silence, his words sharp but laced with amusement. He stood rigid, his gaze fixed on her with a steady intensity, yet his eyes gleamed, betraying the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. He held back a laugh, his jaw tightening just enough to conceal the mirth bubbling beneath the surface.

“I am trying to think of something that doesn’t sound horribly selfish and asks you to turn down the position and remain here.”, she admitted with a small smile. “I  am pleased to see that your efforts here have been acknowledged. It’s a well-deserved promotion. You look happy. That… matters.”

“Thank you, Cressida, I truly am happy about it,” Varro said, his voice unexpectedly softer than usual, the edge in it fading as he spoke. For a brief moment, his gaze softened, and the lines around his eyes seemed to relax. He hesitated, his fingers brushing against the surface of the chair as if searching for something to steady himself.

“It’s just… I feel like my work here isn’t quite finished,” he continued, his eyes drifting momentarily to the floor. “But maybe that’s just anxiety playing tricks on me,” he added, a faint laugh escaping him, though it lacked true warmth—there was a bitter edge to it, as if the words were laced with an uncomfortable truth.

With a quick inhale, he straightened, the mask slipping back into place. The slight shift in his posture was enough to signal a return to his familiar demeanor, the tension in his shoulders easing as his lips curved into a controlled smile.

“And I must say, working with you has been a true delight,” he said smoothly, his voice regaining its usual calm. His eyes met hers, the words coming out with a polite warmth, though something in the quiet intensity of his gaze lingered. “I do hope our paths cross again in the future.”

“I have enjoyed working with you. And… it’s a small galaxy.”, she nodded, lacking Varro’s skill of seamlessly moving between professionalism and communicating on a more personal level. She usually defaulted to the more comfortable territory of cynicism.

Varro’s smile curved slowly, the corners of his mouth lifting with an ease that hinted at quiet amusement. “It sure is, Commander,” he said, his tone calm but carrying a faint lilt that softened the formality of his words. His eyes held hers briefly, a flicker of something unspoken glinting before he shifted his gaze.

Brennan offered a very careful, very controlled smile. “You know full well that I came here to support you, and I will admit that heading back to Colludia for an extended vacation seems very tempting right now. It’s an odd mixture of considering my job done, while knowing it is not.”

She still had plans that were pending completion, and goals she wanted to meet. She just hadn’t expected the surrounding circumstances to change so drastically.

Varro’s smile faded, his jaw tightening slightly as he straightened. His gaze shifted, momentarily distant, as if searching for the right words in the space between them. “I… I know, Commander,” he said, the hesitation in his voice underscoring the weight of his thoughts. He glanced down briefly, then met her eyes again, his tone quieter now. “But sometimes, the world has a way of moving beyond our understanding.” His hand made a small, fluid motion, like a stream winding its course. “All we can do is follow the current and hope it takes us where we’re meant to go.”

“Of course.”, she nodded, giving an almost dismissive shrug when not a single part of this conversation was what she would consider dismissible. “I am not in the habit of disappointing.”

“Good. Hold on to that attitude—it’ll save you a lot of pain,” Varro said, his voice firm but carrying a quiet, almost reflective tone. He let out a soft sigh, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction as if releasing a tension he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying. The silence stretched between them, the sound of distant footsteps echoing faintly in the corridor, a stark contrast to the stillness in the room.

After a long moment, he finally spoke again, his words slower, more measured. “Well, I suppose this is goodbye.” His gaze drifted for a brief second, as if weighing the significance of the moment, before returning to her. The words felt heavier now, like something unsaid hung in the air. “For now,” he added, his voice softening.

“For now.”, Brennan nodded. “Safe travels, Callen.”

Varro’s smirk lingered as he tapped his combadge.

“Varro to Discovery, one to beam up.”

A soft whirring filled the air as a shimmer of light enveloped him, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone, leaving only the faint hum of the transporter behind.