A storm was coming. She could taste it in the change of the air, feel it in the wind, and sense it in the slow, uneasy rocking of the boat. But the sky was clear, both of Asada’s suns high in the sky, their golden light scattering across the water in flickering brilliance. 

Alcyone Brennan stood silently on the softly creaking deck. She hadn’t moved for hours but barely noticed the time pass, too occupied with how terribly wrong all of this felt, and with trying to assure herself that all would be resolved once she returned to the Callisto. 

She tried not to think about what she would tell the others. How could she even begin to tell them that their fellow officers were under the influence of a telepathic presence that was worshipped like a deity, and that the rest of their away team – including the Captain himself – had chosen to remain with them? 

She should have made sure Ceix stayed aboard the Callisto. Kept him there against his will if necessary. Moved the Callisto out of Asada’s orbit before it was too late. But she hadn’t. 

Brennan shook her head to clear her mind, once more telling herself that they would find a solution once she had returned. 

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Zion.”

Alcyone glanced at Eshrevi, who had been standing next to her all this time. It was strange to see the Andorian in anything that didn’t at least resemble a uniform, and stranger still to see her antennae droop, in a silent expression of sadness.

She shouldn’t have, but she reached for her anyway, and Eshrevi’s fingers curled around hers without hesitation. 

“You look sad.” Brennan said quietly. Eshrevi turned, her gray eyes meeting hers. “I am.”

“Why?”

Eshrevi hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. “Because doing the right thing doesn’t always mean doing the easy thing.”

Brennan understood. More than Eshrevi could know, and even though she wanted nothing more than to tell her. 

“You… seemed so happy back there.”, she said eventually. 

Eshrevi gave a weak nod with her antennae. “You did not.”

There was a moment of silence between them before the words left her lips before Alcyone could stop herself.  “I don’t want to be apart from you.”

For a moment, the words hung in the air, irreversible, unaddressed. Had she given herself, and her plan, away? 

But Eshrevi’s expression didn’t change. Instead, she gently squeezed her hand. 

“It will only be for a short while.”

Lieutenant Una was growing restless. Whatever meditative techniques she had tried, they had accomplished nothing. 

Ceix, Brennan, and the rest of the away team had been gone for two days now, and every attempt at contacting them had failed. Meanwhile, the situation aboard the Callisto wasn’t improving. Una stared at the empty transporter pad where the latest group of affected individuals had just beamed down to Asada. She exhaled slowly.

“What now?” Soris asked, his eyes downcast, and voice hollow. 

It was a valid question. The Callisto was crippled with so few remaining, and even those were starting to see things. Starting to recall events that had never occurred. Una knew that it took them every ounce of energy to remember that their memories of Naeric weren’t real, that he wasn’t real, despite being an unyielding presence on the ship. 

“Try to contact the away team again.”, Una responded, but couldn’t quite banish the undercurrent of resignation from her voice. 

“But their badges are deactivated.”

“Try it anyway.”

What else could they do? Their Captain and First Officer had not returned from their away mission, and most of the senior staff had decided to resign and beam down to Asada. 

“Understood”, said Soris and left, his steps echoing along the far too empty corridor until the closing of the door drowned them out. 

What now? The question lingered in Una’s mind, had kept her awake ever since Ceix and Brennan left. 

“Computer.”, she said eventually. “Who is the current highest ranking officer still present on the ship?”

The current highest ranking officer aboard the USS Callisto is Lieutenant Una, Acting Chief Security Officer.

Una gave a slow nod. She had known, but somehow, still hoped for a different response. Because it meant that the “what now” was her question to answer. 

Shore came into sight, a stretch of soft golden sand, and with it, Alcyone knew that their goodbye came closer. She told herself that it would only be temporary, but somehow, it felt heavier than that. 

She didn’t share those thoughts with Eshrevi, choosing instead to focus on the feel of her hand in hers, memorizing every detail of her face—the small scar on her left cheek, the grey eyes like stormy skies, the soft curve of her lips.

But as Brennan finally turned her attention to the shore, she knew why something was wrong. This wasn’t the place they had first arrived at. 

“This…”, she started, but didn’t finish her sentence. Instead, she once again turned to Eshrevi. 

“I am so sorry.”, the Andorian said quietly. 

“W-… what is going on?”

Brennan felt panic rising within her, the sudden, tight knot in her stomach and a cold shiver that crept down her spine. 

“Aldris told us that you are planning to report back to the Callisto. There are… worries.. amongst the people that they will force us to leave Asada.”, Eshrevi explained, her voice low. “I told them you wouldn’t do that. But Naeric… he insisted.”

“You know I have to do that!” the words exploded out. No need to keep pretending. “Naeric is a telepath – he’s manipulating you! All of you!”

“He knew you’d say that,” Eshrevi said, voice steady. “And he’s giving you time to think it over.”

The boat cut through the waves and landed on the shore. Brennan looked around, noticing that the other crew members, once respectful of her, had now turned their attention to Eshrevi, waiting for an order. They were Starfleet, but no longer looking to her for guidance.

“You are going to leave me here?”, she asked, eyes wide in fear, and Eshrevi’s assurance did nothing to calm her. 

“All will be provided to you.”

Brennan’s eyes filled with tears, her chest tightening as she shook her head. “No. NO! You can’t mean that.”

“Trust me.” Eshrevi’s voice was soft, as she gently took Alcyone’s hand, but she jerked it away.

“No! Not you! Please, not like this!”

Eshrevi’s hand clamped onto Alcyone’s arm, not harshly, but with an undeniable force. Brennan struggled against her, panic surging in her chest, while the other woman remained eerily calm. 

It was the calm that frightened Alcyone most. 

“Eshrevi, you can’t-…”

The words were cut off as she was pulled off the boat, her boots sinking into the cold, wet sand as the waves lapped at her legs.

“Please, Ash, you know this isn’t right.”

A bundle of something was tossed from the boat and landed on the shore like discarded trash. Brennan struggled, her hands pushing against Eshrevi’s iron grip, tears spilling freely now.

“Don’t leave me!”

Eshrevi’s gaze softened once the boat began reversing its course. And for a moment, she touched Brennan’s face in the gentlest way possible, before leaning in to kiss her. 

That kiss stopped Alcyone dead in her tracks, her panic slipping away, replaced by confusion. Eshrevi never, ever allowed public displays of affection.

“It won’t be long, I promise. I love you.”

And then she turned and walked away. Alcyone’s chest tightened, her body frozen. She wanted to scream, to rush to her, to stop her from leaving her behind. But it wasn’t until the boat was nothing but a distant shape on the horizon that she could even breathe again.

The Captain’s chair felt impossibly large, too big for her small, tense frame. Una looked at the handful of officers around her, each one offering their report with a combination of resolve and fatigue. Half the crew had abandoned ship, leaving those who remained fighting a losing battle to keep the Callisto functional. 

“We have made progress with the shields.”, announced Katrax, who looked like he hadn’t slept ever since they encountered the Givens dead in orbit. And that was probably the case. 

“We have adjusted the frequency to shield us from the telepathic influence, but it… seems to linger.”

“At least it is not getting stronger.”, Jackson muttered, sounding more exhausted than relieved. He sat in the First Officer’s chair, which would’ve been out of line under normal circumstances. But now, with the chain of command in ruins, Ensigns were making decisions, Lieutenants were taking orders, and crewmen of varying levels of experience tried to lend support where they could. 

“I know it is potentially risky…”, said Una slowly. Leadership had never come naturally to her, which was why she had always avoided stepping up – but now, she had no choice. “But… I propose we broadcast a distress signal. All frequencies.”

“That could attract potential enemies.”, Soris protested, his brows furrowed.

“True. And with the current state of the Callisto, we can’t defend ourselves.”, Jackson chimed in. 

“Well.”, interjected Katrax “What other option do we have? We are unable to handle this on our own.”

Some faces looked skeptical, others nodded solemnly, but no one looked convinced. 

“There has been no hostile activity in the Asada system.”, Una noted eventually, though she could feel her resolve faltering. 

“Aside from the entity that kidnapped half of our crew.”, Jackson said, his voice dripping with the sarcasm that seemed his way of coping with stress. 

“Aside from that. So I… agree.”, Soris sighed. 

Jackson scoffed at that. “Never thought Starfleet would turn into a Democracy.”

“Cut it out, you two.” Una rose from her chair, surprised at the firmness in her voice, Jackson was right. This wasn’t a collective decision. It was hers. “Send the distress signal. Include everything we know – inform them about the shield configurations.”

Una rose from her chair. “Send the distress signal. Send them what we know, inform them about the shields.”

“Aye Cap-… L-.. Sir.”

The ensign moved to the tactical console, his hands shaking as he inputted the command without hesitation. Una shut her eyes briefly, and if she were the praying type, she would’ve sent a quiet prayer that this was the right decision.