The observation lounge was devoid of visitors at this time of day, which was precisely why Cressida Brennan had sought it out. Her gaze drifted to the steaming cup of tarblack she cradled in her hands before flicking back up to the vast cosmos stretching before her. The stars appeared dimmed as they flickered in the distance as if struggling to lend their light – tired after millennia of guiding those who looked up to them.

A shame, but a natural cycle nonetheless.

Cressida found her mind involuntarily wandering to the stars above Colludia, her home, and how much she missed them. The longing came in waves, always had, but at this time of year – just after the festive weeks leading up to the last day of the calendar – it was stronger than usual. It marked the completion of another cycle. Her brother’s letters shifted from optimistic invitations to pleas to come home just this once, and then, inevitably, to a resigned account of celebrations that had once again taken place without her.

Sometimes, she wondered if she was being selfish for not visiting, or if she simply saw the galaxy with different eyes. Eyes that looked past the cold indifference of the endless void and found beauty in the far-away nebulae swirling like cosmic storms, in a comet’s luminous trails of ice and dust, and the occasional flare of an engine igniting in the distance.

Cressida did not often seek direction from others. She was a private person, rarely burdening anyone with personal conundrums, let alone basing her decisions on the natural phenomena that some civilizations regarded as divine guidance. But today, she found she wouldn’t mind a sign.

She was still surprised to receive one when the station’s soft hum mingled with the approach of calm, measured footsteps, and the door to the observation deck slid open with a gentle hiss.

Callen Varro stepped through the doorway, his boots hitting the deck with the same easy confidence that had never quite left him. Behind him, Admiral Katelyn Jenson followed, her presence measured yet unmistakable—an aura of command that needed no announcement.

The soft hum of the station resonated through Callen’s chest, familiar as a heartbeat. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, wrapping around him like an old memory—warm, grounding, unchanged. The overhead lights cast their sterile glow across the room, illuminating the well-worn paths he had once walked daily. He hadn’t been gone long, but standing here now, it felt as though he had never left.

His gaze swept across the room, landing on Cressida’s composed figure near the viewport. She was exactly as he left her only mere weeks ago—uniform crisp, posture straight, eyes sharp as ever. She barely spared him a glance, her focus remaining on the stars ahead, her expression unreadable. No flicker of surprise, no acknowledgement of his presence beyond the briefest shift of her shoulders. If his return meant anything to her, she wasn’t about to show it.

Callen’s smirk deepened. Typical.

Leaning against the nearest cabinet, he crossed his arms over his chest and let his voice cut through the quiet.

“Commander Brennan,” he drawled, his tone laced with familiar mischief. “Miss me?”

“I barely noticed your absence, Captain.”, Cressida replied, straight-faced and in that trademark monotonous tone that put every Vulcan to shame.

It was a comfortable mask to wear. One that allowed naive hopes and impulses – such as him returning here permanently because the Director’s office wasn’t all he had expected it to be – to remain beneath the surface. 

Her eyes slid over to Jenson, to whom she had taken a liking to, but barely spared her more than a polite nod. 

“Now, now, I don’t want to have to put both on a time-out,” Jenson said, smirking at them both. Since arriving on Deep Space Seventeen, Jenson had found herself enjoying the relationship she had developed with Brennan. A lot of Brennan reminded Jenson of herself back when she had started on the command track. Confident, calm, and feisty. 

Jenson gestured for Varro to take a seat. Her former student’s unexpected arrival was a welcome but still unexpected. “What brings you back out to the Typhon Frontier, Callen?” She asked. Jenson, who had been busy only an hour ago discussing the latest update with DEI director Admiral Vallis, had been signalled by her aid that Captain Varro had arrived on the station and needed to meet with her and Brennan immediately. 

Callen sank into the chair with a fluid motion, stretching his legs out in front of him as he glanced around the room. The familiar sterility of it all, the cold efficiency of Starbase Bravo, seemed to make the air feel heavier. He let out a low chuckle, his gaze shifting back to Cressida and Katelyn. “Honestly, Starbase Bravo starts to feel pretty dull after a while,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Especially when you’re used to living life on the edge.”

“The edge would gladly welcome you back.”, Cressida noted and took a seat. 

He paused, letting the humor fade from his face. His eyes flickered over the report on his PADD before him, the quiet tension in the air now mirrored in his posture. He leaned forward slightly, fingers tapping on the edge of the table as if considering how best to say what came next. “But it’s not just that,” he said, his tone shifting, sharper. “I’ve gone through everything. Every report.” His gaze locked with theirs, no longer playful, the weight of his next words settling between them. “We’ve made a decision,” he continued, letting the silence hang before he let out a slow breath. “And I thought it was only right to tell you both in person.”

“Get to it, captain; not all of us have many decades left,” Jenson said, picking up a mug of coffee she had replicated less than two minutes ago. “Let me guess, Luke is missing me?”

“Let me start by saying, your hunch about Fleet Admiral Duncan was right on the money, Admiral,” Callen said, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. His eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief as he leaned forward, his voice low and deliberate. “He’s not letting you off that easily.”

He let the words hang in the air for a moment before continuing, the smirk widening just a fraction. “He’s requested your transfer to Fourth Fleet Command, effective immediately. And, from what I hear, he’s got some ‘special’ assignments waiting for you.” The last word lingered in the space between them, heavy with unspoken meaning.

“Why am I not surprised,” Jenson said, rolling her eyes. “Let me guess, something has come up, and he needs me to put out some fire somewhere else now?”

“Yes, coincidentally, you’ll be stationed in his department,” he said, nodding slowly. The corner of his mouth twitched, a flicker of something almost like amusement crossing his face as he watched their reactions. His eyes held a knowing glint, as if the irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him.

“So if I’m heading back to Starbase Bravo, what’s happening here for Task Force Seventeen?” Jenson enquired, wrapping her fingers tighter around her mug. 

“I would very much like to know the same.” Cressida nodded, not at all happy with the news they were receiving. She could imagine that Jenson’s experience made her a very sought-after individual, but she didn’t appreciate the lack of stable leadership that came with yet another transfer. 

“You, Cressida,” Callen said, his face remaining unreadable, the words slipping out with a quiet gravity.

“Me?” Brennan asked. “Could you be any more cryptic?” 

A statement mostly meant to buy her some time. She could guess where this was going, and she had yet to figure out whether she was happy with it or not. 

Callen’s eyes smiled at the reaction but he kept his face straight as he said “You will lead the Fourth Fleet’s deep space exploration efforts as Task Force 17’s Commanding officer effective immediately, and I can’t think of anyone more suited to do so.”

Silence stretched between them, barely interrupted by Brennan shifting in her chair. She had known that this would happen eventually, but she had also only just gotten used to Jenson. And despite her years in Starfleet and knowing that this ever-changing galaxy needed her to remain flexible, she wasn’t exactly keen on change. 

“I…”, she started, then paused to collect her thoughts. “I had a whole speech prepared, Callen.”, she eventually said with mock-disapproval. 

“Have you now?” Callen said, eyebrows lifting in mock surprise. A smirk ghosted at the corner of his lips—he knew her too well to be truly caught off guard.

“I was going to complain about yet another change in leadership, and having to welcome yet another individual as new Commanding Officer. This takes the wind out of my sails a little bit, doesn’t it?”, she offered a light shrug, followed by a smile. “But – although it has been noted that this was an order, not an offer – I gladly accept.” 

“Had other plans, Commander?” Callen asked, the corners of his eyes crinkling ever so slightly, a subtle gleam of amusement flickering beneath his composed exterior.

Brennan sipped from her now lukewarm cup of coffee. “I didn’t have plans as such, no. I was pondering a visit to Colludia. We both know I never actually go.” 

“We do,” Callen said, dipping his head in a slow, deliberate nod. His gaze held steady, the certainty in his eyes speaking louder than the words themselves.

“Well, let me be the first one to congratulate the newest Task Force Commanding Officer,” Jenson said as she stood and shook Brennan’s hand. “An excellent choice for someone to lead our deep space exploration arm. Well done.”

“Thank you. I appreciate all you have taught me in the past weeks.”, Brennan said, and she meant it. “And best of luck with… whatever it is that qualifies as special assignment.”

“I suppose I best go and start packing my things,” Jenson remarked after finishing her mug of coffee. “I suppose Callen, you and I are sharing a trip back to Bravo, yes?”

“Correct, Admiral” Callen said, dipping his head in a measured nod. “I’m heading straight back with you.” 

“Then we’ll have plenty to catch up on,” Jenson said with a smirk, “and are you still a keen velocity player?”

Callen’s lips curved into a subtle smile. “I still dabble,” he said, his tone light, yet curious. He tilted his head slightly. “Why do you ask?”

“Good, because I need to get some training in before I take on the old fleet admiral,” Jenson said, tapping the back of Varro’s shoulder as she got up to make her way out of the office. “I’m not letting him win another round, even at my age.”

A quiet laugh rumbled from Callen’s chest as he leaned back slightly. “Just so you know, I’m not going to let you win,” he said, his eyes gleaming with challenge. He let the words settle for a beat before his smirk deepened. 

“Even at your age.”

“Is there no respect for your elders, Captain?” Jenson challenged over the shoulder as she walked out of the room, and the doors closed behind her. 

Callen leaned back slightly, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “I’ll see you in a jiffy, Admiral,” he said, his tone casual as she stepped away. His gaze followed her, but he made no move to answer her question, letting it hang in the air.

Cressida, who had watched Jenson leave and allowed herself a moment to enjoy the banter between Callen and his former mentor, turned to Varro. 

“I wasn’t going to leave. Not when we’ve still not heard anything from the Givens. I’ve sent the Callisto to check up on them. I’m not worried as such, but worried enough to have any other available ship on standby, and ready at a moment’s notice should the need arise.”

“See?” Callen said, his voice smooth, “You’re practically doing the job already.” He stretched lazily, fingers drumming against the table in an easy rhythm before leaning back, completely at ease. His eyes flicked over her, assessing, amused.

“I’ll catch the highlights in the quarterly reports,” he added, the words rolling off his tongue like an afterthought. A beat passed, then his smirk deepened. “Other than that… well, that burden’s all yours now.”

“Fantastic.”, sighed and leaned back in her chair, trying to keep focussed on the here and now rather than the possibilities and challenges of her new position. It wasn’t working in the slightest, and eventually, she gave up. 

“I have work to do.”, she said, and rose from her chair. “But I do wish you a safe journey. And next time you decide to visit – please warn me.”

Callen pushed himself up from the chair, rolling his shoulders as a low chuckle rumbled from his chest. He moved toward the door with the same effortless stride he always had, glancing back just before stepping through. A glint of mischief flickered in his eyes as he lifted a hand in a loose, almost lazy salute, fingers flicking outward.

“I will, Chief!” he called, his voice laced with easy confidence. The words hung in the air for a beat before he disappeared through the doorway, leaving only the echo of his laughter behind.