It was late… or perhaps it was early? Órlaith mused as she stared out the crew lounge into the inky blackness of space; streaks of light from the warp effect zipped past the observation-style windows. The lounge was quiet, not silent. The familiar, comforting hum of the ship’s systems blended with the clinking of glasses and hushed voices from the Sojourner’s crew.

Órlaith was a solitary person at heart and cherished these rare moments of solitude. The kids were asleep, tucked away in their beds, and instructions were left for her oldest to contact her if there were any issues or if her youngest happened to wake up. Xander tended towards nightmares and often woke in the middle of the night to crawl into bed with her.

But, so far… all was “Quiet on the Western Front.”

“Settling in, ok?” Came a voice from behind her. “Hope the ship and crew are treating you well,” Kirin continued, and she stepped alongside and gestured at the chair beside Órlaith.

Órlaith smiled at the Orion woman, her tone warm and welcoming, “Kirin, you know you never have to ask. You are always welcome at my table.”

“Would be rude not to,” Kirin said with a smile before taking a seat.

As her friend sat across from her, Órlaith reached across the table and, from the teapot, refilled her cup. Steam rolled over the sides, and the relaxing aroma of chamomile filled the air. “We are,” she said, “Or at least as much as we can, considering how temporary this arrangement is.” Her fingers traced the edge of the cup as she glanced toward the window.

She smirked and continued, “This ship’s newer than the Andromeda. The girls are enjoying all the new amenities your ship has to offer. My ship is a relic of the Dominion War. Mindy hates everything that I find endearing about it.  I mean, it WAS built when I was just a teen, and it has one hell of a history with twenty battle stars. Did you know it was at the Battle of Vulcan?”

“That is impressive for sure. There is also a benefit to older ships: all the bugs are worked out. When we first got the Sojourner, we had an endless stream of glitches, which took Thanen a good four months to sort. Some still pop up now and again,” Kirin remarked as she looked out the window for a moment. “Weren’t you at Vulcan as well on the, ah, Denver, wasn’t it?”

“Detached service, actually,” Órlaith said, in a distracted voice, as if that distinction mattered. She sipped from her cup and set it down with a slight ceramic clink on the table.” I had just made acting Ensign with the Knights.”

She let her eyes fall to the table and frowned; memories of a time when life and death were a daily reality played like a movie in her mind. “Our flight of fighters had an Andorian XO. God, she was tough on me. She treated me like I was a stupid kid. I thought she hated me. I couldn’t figure out why she’d go after me like that.”

Órlaith wrapped her arms around herself, staring at the table’s surface as wisps of steam rose from her tea, curling upward like the unresolved tension in her chest. She was lost in the memory for a long moment before continuing, her voice soft and low. “I found out later… It was she who recommended me to Marcus for acting Ensign. All that time, I thought she was just trying to get rid of me.”

Her fingers traced the edge of the cup absently as the weight of her words settled in. “I owe her my whole career. But I never thanked her. Never had the chance…” She inhaled deeply, her gaze far away. “She sacrificed herself to save Marcus. Ramming her fighter straight into a Jem’Hadar ship on his six. She didn’t hesitate. I… Well, I modeled my whole career after her. I just wanted to be half the pilot Lieutenant Sh’iv was.”

Kirin sat quietly for a moment as she watched Órlaith, “She sounds like a hell of a woman and rubbed off on you the right way. I am sorry that this dragged up those memories. It is never easy to think back on the people we have lost. No matter how long it has been or how they were lost, I feel like their spectres follow us, well, me around at least.” She paused for a moment as she turned and stared out the window before turning and looking back at Órlaith, forcing a smile, “This new ship, the Sentinel, what do you know of it?”

Órlaith waved off the apology with a flick of her wrist. “It’s nothing,” she said. “We both lost plenty of people in that damned war.” With the mention of the Sentinel, she let out a short laugh—dry, almost incredulous. “It’s a sister ship to the Andromeda,” she said, the irony too blatant not to acknowledge.

Kirin smiled faintly, “I don’t know much about the history of the ship, though they are a solid class. You should settle in nicely. Would you have preferred something else?”

Órlaith shrugged, sipping her tea and hiding a rueful smirk. “Honestly, I’m surprised I’m still in command at all.” She hesitated, the cup lingering halfway to her mouth, before lowering it. “When I got the orders, I half expected they’d decided I’d failed somehow, like after what happened with the Crazy Horse…” She let her voice trail off. The two women had known each other for so long that nothing more was needed to be said.

Kirin knew all too well what had happened. The Crazy Horse, an aging Excelsior class—had been left adrift in the Delta Quadrant after a Devore attack. The class might no longer have been the pride of the fleet, but once, it had been. Seeing one of its own towed back to the Alpha Quadrant in disgrace had not sat well with the admiralty. They had pulled Órlaith’s command. It had taken Kirin and a very old friend from the Denver to get her back in the center seat: the Andromeda.

Kirin shook her head, “None of that was your fault. I have seen the reports; anyone up the chain who thinks otherwise is a useless petaQ.” Her face softened as she looked at Órlaith, “I am sorry you have had to deal with so much unpleasantness. You have put in the time and energy; you belong on the bridge, Órlaith.”

Órlaith smiled faintly, gratitude flashing in her eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so dramatic.” She let out a wry chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. “I guess I’m a little gun-shy after the last time. May have overreacted.”

“I get it,” Kirin said with a shrug. “You can always look at it this way. The new ship, new crew, which in a way is always exciting, and this whole message and probe we need to investigate sounds very interesting. Who knows, maybe we will even get through that wormhole. Who knows what we may find.”

Before Órlaith could respond, Kirin’s combadge chimed. “Bridge to Captain Tarken,” came the voice of Belania.

“Go ahead, Belania,” Kirin responded.

“We are two hours out from the rendevous position with the Sentinel.”

“Thank you. I will be along shortly.” With that, she closed the comms channel. “Well, it looks like we will be arriving shortly.”

Órlatih pushed away from the table and absently stacked the scattered remains of her tea on the tray from one of the lounges staff to buss. She hesitated and stared out the windows again, watching the streaks of light zipping past the ship. “Thank you for the company.” She offered Kirin a grim smile, tapping the table as if there was something she wanted to say but couldn’t quite find the words. At last, she let out a breath she had been holding and gave Kirin a shrug. “I’ll meet you on the bridge in two hours?”

“Sounds good,” Kirin said as she stood. “Oh, if the kids are packed, the holodeck is free if they want to spend some time there before we arrive.”

“Let’s not do that,” she quipped. “We might not ever get them out of there. Besides, it’s too early to wake them up. “See you in a bit.”

Two hours later…

Órlaith stepped onto the bridge with Erin at her side, both women pausing just inside the threshold. They lingered, taking in the controlled chaos around them, the steady hum of consoles, officers rushing by, and the low murmur of conversations threading through the air.

“We will be dropping out of warp in two minutes,” Ensign Tycon said from the con. “The last message we had from the Sentinel had them arriving slightly before us, so they should be waiting for us.”

“Thank you, Dese,” Kirin said from the command chair. Without turning, she gestured to the empty XO’s seat beside her. “Captain Murphy, please join me here. Thanen is currently down in the engine room, so the seat is free.”

Órlaith reached the central cluster of seats and settled beside Kirin. As she shifted to get comfortable, the cushion beneath her let out a soft groan. Erin smirked at the sound before moving to tactical, nodding to the officer stationed there as she took her place.

The stillness of normal space was broken as the Sojourner dropped out of warp in a flash of light.

“Report?” Kirin said causally, though the routine nature of the bridge crew’s response showed they expected such a command.

“The Sentinel is two hundred fifty thousand kilometers out, right where they said they would be. Sensors are not picking anything else up,” Belania commented from her station.

“Open a channel to the Sentinel if you please,” Kirin remarked.

“Sentinel, this is Commander Tarken of the USS Sojourner. I have the pleasure of bringing you new CO and XO, along with new orders. Are you ready to receive?” With that, Kirin looked over to Órlaith and mouthed, ‘All yours.’

The screen switched to the bridge of the Sentinal with a middle-aged man in a gold uniform wearing the rank of Lieutenant Commander. Órlaith did a quick mental inventory and attached the genial face to that of the Chief Engineer.

“This is Lieutenant Commander Dorian Holt, in command of Sentinel. We read you, Sojourner, and are ready to receive.”

Órlaith stood and strode toward the black viewscreen, which featured the white-grey hull of the Sentinel, an Intrepid-class starship. With her hands clasped behind her back, she stopped short of the navigation and operations well.

“This is Captain Murphy,” she said, her voice even. “Commander Holt, where is Commander Thalsan?”

“Ma’am…” Holt hesitated. Too long. “I don’t know.”

Órlaith arched an eyebrow, cutting a glance over her shoulder at Kirin. Confirmed… this is a shit show, she thought.

Kirin exhaled slowly, concern etched on her face, but she held her tongue. This was Órlaith’s show and her new command. As she watched her friend she tapped out a quick message to Belania. A moment later, the large secondary deflector dish flared to life as the ship began to scan the space around the two ships in more detail and further out than the Sentinel could.

Órlaith turned back to the viewscreen, her expression hardening. She crossed her arms and shifted her weight onto her left hip. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

Holt shrugged and shook his head. “Ma’am, the Commander has checked out since getting promoted. I assume he’s in his quarters waiting for you to take command. With all due respect, Captain, Commander Thalsan is an empty uniform.”

Órlaith pressed her lips into a thin line, her nails digging into her palms. “Understood, Commander. I’ll be beaming over shortly. Soujourner out.”

The viewscreen returned to an exterior shot of the Sentinel, with it hovering in space stars making a merry backdrop. Órlaith stood rooted to the deck, her arms crossed, biting her lower lip. After a long moment, she turned, dropping into the XO’s chair beside Kirin. “I’ve seen officers quit or get burned out before, but this?” She shook her head. “Unbelievable.”

“Well, on the bright side, at least he isn’t missing. I thought he had taken a shuttle and just left after what Holt said,” Kirin remarked before her face took on a more serious expression. “For someone to check out like that, there has to be something else going on. Were there any indications in the last couple of mission reports from the Sentinel to suggest there was undo stress or pressure on Thalsan or the crew?”

“Anyways, we are here to help. Just say the word, and I will have the Doc run psych-evals on the entire crew.”

Órlaith leaned into the seat, letting her eyes shift out of focus as she stared at the viewscreen. She filled her lungs and patted Kirin’s arm, forcing a halfhearted smile. “I appreciate it, but no. The ship arrived on time. That means the chain of command is still working. Thalsan’s moving on. He’s not my problem and is someone else’s headache now.”

Kirin let out a single chuckle at that, “That is one way to look at it. Is he being picked up by another ship? Our orders didn’t include transferring anyone back. Not that it is an issue, but we have to sort out this wormhole and unknown probe issue first.”

“I don’t know. If he’s expecting a ride somewhere from one of us, she is sorely mistaken. We have a mission. If he can’t wait, he can take a shuttle and plod along low to warp to get where he needs to be. I honestly don’t care either way.”

Kirin let out a short but genuine laugh, “That is fair. We have several to spare for the time being. It might give him a chance to get his head back on straight.”

Órlaith smirked, this time with a genuine smile, and gave her Orion counterpart a critical once-over. “Speaking of promotions… when is Starfleet going to give you your fourth pip?”

“Ha,” Kirin said with a shrug, “Honestly, I think the powers that be have conveniently forgotten about me or that I am still technically a commander.”

“And you act like my career is a Greek tragedy, Commander,” she teased, emphasizing Kirin’s rank.

Kirin feigned shock, “What? Never!”

Kirin glanced around the bridge and back to the viewscreen, “Shall we head down to the transporter room and get you over there? Do you want some company, or shall we keep our distance for a bit before we head to find the probe?”

Standing, Órlaith extended a hand, “I would like that, but once I beam over, you should go find the probe. No sense in delaying the mission on my account.”

Kirin stood, accepting the hand with a smile and a nod, “It shouldn’t have made it too far. Call if you need anything.”