The scene dissolved like smoke on the wind as the holodeck grid shimmered coldly back into place. The lines stretched endlessly around them, stark against the sudden emptiness. Breathing hard, boots scuffing against the floor, the cadets were left standing amid the hollow silence. It was over for now.

Arms folded tightly, gaze cutting, Lieutenant Commander Samantha Askew strode into view. “Well done,” she announced, voice like ice filled with sarcasm. “Mission failed. Starship lost. Objectives abandoned.” Her voice was stripped of sympathy, every syllable sharp. Askew’s eyes focused on Alfie. “You made the call?”

A weight settled in Alfie’s stomach, heavy and unrelenting. His throat felt dry, but he forced himself upright, spine stiffening against the scrutiny. “I did,” he answered hoarsely.

“Wrong call,” Askew stated flatly as her boots echoed sharply against the deck. Each step forward felt deliberate and measured, like a predator sizing up prey.

“Respectfully, ma’am, it’s what my father would have done,” Alfie responded, raising his chin. Though his voice remained firm, his jaw twitched slightly. This minor crack in his demeanour indicated his commitment to his opinion.

“You are not your father.” Askew’s words landed like a hammer striking a number of nails, each one spaced and deliberate. She loomed mere centimetres from Alfie, her breath cool, her stare unblinking. “And thank goodness for that. He knows better than to gamble lives on sentimentality.”

Beside Alfie, Florrick stiffened, his jaw tightening as his fists curled slightly at his sides. “With all due respect, ma’am, we crippled the Vaadwaur’s attack.”

“Midshipman Florrick,” Askew snapped, her tone biting, “when someone says ‘with all due respect,’ it means they have neither respect nor a clue what they’re talking about.”

She stepped closer. “You chose self-importance. You sacrificed a starship and abandoned your duty for theatrics.” Her voice hardened. “You want to be heroes? Heroes die fast, Mister Florrick. And they sometimes die young. Remember that.”

Her gaze pivoted sharply to Jordan. “And you. “You crumbled. Your emotions endangered everyone around you. You broke down the second it got personal.”

Jordan bit his lip and stayed silent. He held his composure, but beneath it simmered anger, frustration, and humiliation. He was so pissed off.  

Askew stepped back deliberately, expression set in stone. “I am not here to babysit a bunch of teenagers. I am here to prepare the next generation of Starfleet officers for what awaits you. All of you have failed.”

“But ma’am,” Grant protested, “the Odyssey was a lost cause.”

“Was she?” Askew glared at Grant. “Was she really?”

“She was barely holding it together,” Grant responded. “Every corridor, every room was a mess. The Vaadwaur had killed the entire bridge crew.”

“We saved Lieutenant Bollwyn!” Jib interjected. “Don’t we get credit for that?”

“No!” Askew barked. She marched back towards the Bolian. “If you think small, cadet, then your results will be small!”

 Askew turned to Grant. “And Miss Grant, did any of you check the readings on the bridge stations?”

“No but-”

 “No, there aren’t any ‘buts’ here, Miss Grant. Because if you did, you would have seen that the Odyssey would have survived a warp jump to retreat; furthermore, you would have seen that there were still crewmembers alive. You didn’t even issue the order to abandon ship. Instead, you beamed back to the Astra, allowing any survivors to perish!”

The room fell silent.

Askew took a deep breath. “Dismissed. In two hours, return prepared for another drill. You will find a way to survive it.”

As she turned on her heel, her words drifted back like icicles. “Cadets who dream of heroics. Crewmen bury their bodies.”

The silence weighed heavier than before. Alfie stood motionless, his hand hovering discreetly near Jordan’s before he pulled back, remembering their words to each other. Simulation or not, it felt devastatingly real.

He walked away from Jordan. The others had already departed.

“Alf, wait!” Jordan called after him.

Alfie shook his head. His body ached with exhaustion, excursion gear clinging damply to his sweat-soaked uniform. His undershirt itched unbearably beneath the collar, and the heavy tactical vest felt like it weighed double in the humid holodeck air. He felt like a Ferengi caught in a weeklong FCA audit. Trapped, scrutinised, suffocating.

Jordan chased after him as they exited the holodeck. 

“Not now, Jord!” Alfie responded.

“I’m sorry!”

He ignored him.

“Alfie!” He shouted. “Don’t shut me out!”

Alfie spun on his heels faster than slipstream velocities, “You did that the moment you lost it in there!” He jabbed a finger towards the holodeck entrance as its doors slid shut.

“Hey, you lost your cool in the last simulation,” Jordan pointed out.

“And I learnt from that,” Alfie remarked back, frustrated at his boyfriend’s comment. “That’s the point of these simulations, to learn not just from our mistakes but those we’re training with. You must have known that Commander Askew was going to play all of that against us. All of us grew up on the Odyssey!”

“Yes, but you made that final choice without talking to any of us!” Jordan argued back. His patience was wearing thin. 

“Because no one else would!” Alfie said. “I got it wrong. I take that, but I didn’t get personal in there. You did, and you did it fast!”

“I’m sorry, Alfie,” Jordan said, begging now. “I really am.”

“Are you?” Alfie contested. His voice cracked, the mask slipping for just a second. “Because calling me the ‘commodore’s son’ makes me sound like some Starfleet brat handed rank on a silver platter.” His chest heaved. “Is that what you think? Is that how you see me when it gets tough?”

“No, of course not! I was stupid, I shouldn’t have said it,” Jordan answered, realising how much of a grave he had dug himself. He reached out to take Alfie’s hand into his. “Let me make it up to you,” He leaned in to whisper. “Private time in our quiet place?”

Alfie yanked his hand back as though burned, stumbling a step away. His breath caught raggedly as he shoved Jordan, more frustration than force.  “No, Jordan. You took it too far. I need space. Away from this. Away from you.”

Jordan stood frozen in the corridor, his outstretched hand slowly dropping to his side. His throat tightened as his chest hollowed with regret. The echo of Alfie’s footsteps faded around the corner, but the ache it left behind pounded like warp-core resonance. He had mucked up. 

And this time, he wasn’t sure if there was a way back.

“Was all of that necessary?” Parker asked as she followed Askew into the nearby weapons locker room, waiting for the door to slide shut behind them.

Askew glanced up from the console she’d begun to access. “What do you mean, Steph?”

Over the past few days, the two women had shared meals and led joint exercises with their cadets, building a friendly rapport. But Parker’s irritation over what had just unfolded on the holodeck cut through that camaraderie.

“You know exactly what I mean. How you spoke to them and the training you just put them through.” Parker crossed her arms.

“The captain ordered me to give them a tougher challenge than the last. And the fact they’re all clinging to some fantasy of returning to the Odyssey after graduation makes all of this”, she gestured around the ship, “pointless.”

“So, dragging them through a simulation where, for most of them, their home is destroyed is going to help?” Parker challenged.

“Yes, it will, Counsellor,” Askew replied more stiffly. “They need to understand that you can lose everything in war. And the fact that it pushed our two lovebirds over the edge? That’s another bonus.”

Parker sighed. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Cadets McCallister and Duncan are too focused on each other, not their duties,” Askew said flatly. “If they want to be Starfleet officers, they must prioritise the job first. At this rate, they will be lucky to complete the year out. They need to improve.”

“And I was under the impression that you and Lieutenant Commander Lee were in a relationship?” Parker countered.

Askew sighed and squared up to Parker, irritation flashing in her eyes at the challenge to her authority. “What Eden and I do has nothing to do with this unit or my decision to give these cadets a splash of cold water now and then. If you’re that concerned, Counsellor, offer them couples therapy. After their outbursts today over their fathers, they may just need it.”

“I understand the need to show them the severity of our situation,” Parker said evenly, “but there had to be a better way than exploiting their emotions.”

“At the end of the day, the captain was pleased with the results,” Askew said coolly. “Now, I have work to do, Counsellor. Dismissed.”

Parker didn’t argue. She simply nodded and left the room, her mind still reeling from Askew’s harsh conduct.

Scott Florrick sat cross-legged on his lower bunk, a slim PADD resting lightly in one hand, his eyes scanning the contents of a novel but with little focus. His mind was elsewhere, half-reading the story and half-drifting as his thoughts wandered. He couldn’t quite shake the tension from the training session, and his own recent frustrations with how things had been going since their transfer to the Astra.

The soft hiss of the sonic shower deactivating broke the stillness. A moment later, Jordan Duncan emerged from the adjoining communal washroom, a towel wrapped tightly around his waist, his dark curls damp and clinging to his forehead. The contrast between his usual confident demeanour and his current fragility was almost palpable. Jordan’s shoulders were slumped forward, his eyes focused intently on the floor as he crossed to his bunk, the weight of his emotions seeming to press down on him with every step.

He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, the mattress creaking under his weight. His elbows braced on his knees, and his fingers curled tightly into the edge of the towel, as if it were the only thing steadying him right now. His chest rose and fell with the effort of holding back his emotions, but despite his best attempts, a shudder ran through his body, and his breath hitched audibly. He clenched his jaw to hold it all together, but the tears came anyway. Quietly at first, silent but unmistakable.

Scott looked up from his story, his brow creasing slightly in concern. His sharp instincts told him something was off with Jordan. He’d been quieter than usual ever since the simulation, but this was different. Setting the device aside, Scott rose from his bunk without a word. He moved across the narrow space of the room with measured steps, carefully approaching Jordan, his presence calm and steady.

He sat beside him, not too close at first but close enough to be there, offering silent support. After a brief pause, Scott gently placed a hand on Jordan’s back, feeling the trembling beneath the surface. Jordan’s body stiffened for a moment at the touch, but after a heartbeat, he folded into Scott’s embrace, his face pressing against his shoulder. The tears began to fall in earnest now, shaking Jordan’s body as his chest heaved with each broken sob.

“What happened, Jordan?” Scott asked, concerned for his friend’s state.

“I screwed up,” Jordan muttered after a long silence, his voice rough and cracked from holding in his emotions. “I shouldn’t have said what I did to Alfie during the training. I can’t believe I said it to him.” His voice wavered, the guilt and self-loathing clearly eating at him.

Scott didn’t say anything for a moment, his arm wrapped around Jordan’s shoulders, giving him the space to process whatever was happening inside him.

“I broke down in that simulation,” Jordan continued, his voice barely more than a whisper now. “Froze when it all went sideways and got too personal with my dads. I should’ve been thinking and focused on my training. But instead, I snapped at Alfie like it was somehow his fault. It’s my fault, not his.” He shook his head slowly, his hand lifting to wipe at his eyes, but it only made the tears fall harder. “What the hell is wrong with me? Maybe I’m not cut out for this. Maybe I’m not cut out for any of this.”

“Hey,” Scott said softly, his voice low but firm. He tightened his arm around Jordan’s shoulders in a gentle squeeze, offering reassurance without words. “Don’t go there. Don’t think that way. One bad day, one argument. It doesn’t undo everything else you’ve done. It doesn’t erase everything you have with Alfie.”

Jordan let out a wet, shaky breath but didn’t reply immediately. His forehead rested on Scott’s shoulder, his fingers still clutching the towel as though it were the only thing holding him together.

Scott’s lips twitched faintly at the corners. He tried to offer a light-hearted approach to break the tension. “Come on, Jordan. You just need to keep your emotions in check. Channel your inner Vulcan.”

That earned a weak, watery chuckle from Jordan. “Yeah, right. I’m about as Vulcan as a Ferengi auctioneer.”

Scott smirked, the humour helping lift the weight in the room just a little. “Exactly. So don’t beat yourself up so hard. It’s okay to be upset, but don’t let it swallow you.” He rubbed slow, calming circles on Jordan’s back, his voice softening further. “Look, I get it. It’s been a lot since we transferred here. Leaving the Odyssey, starting over, all of it. Alfie’s taking it harder than he lets on, and you’ve been doing everything you can to help him adjust.”

Jordan nodded, swallowing hard as he tried to steady his breathing. “I’ve tried. I really have. But it’s been overwhelming, Scott. Every day it’s something new. I’ve been holding him up, trying to keep him steady, and I’ve been trying to keep myself together, too. But today,” His voice cracked again. “Today, I just didn’t have enough left. I’m not enough.”

Scott’s expression softened. He reached out, lightly tilting Jordan’s chin up so their eyes met. “Jordan,” he said gently, his voice calm but unwavering, “you’ve done more for Alfie than most people ever would. You’ve been patient, understanding, even when it wasn’t easy. Honestly, I don’t think I could’ve handled all of it as well as you have.”

Jordan blinked, looking up at Scott with wide, red-rimmed eyes. His breathing was still shallow, but the pressure in his chest seemed to lift slightly. He studied Scott’s face for a moment before speaking again, his voice quieter now. “You really think that?”

Scott smiled, a little more genuinely now. “I do. You’ve been a fantastic boyfriend to Alfie, Jordan. I don’t think anyone could’ve done what you’ve done. You’re doing your best, and sometimes that’s all you can do.”

Jordan let the words settle for a moment, their comfort spreading through him, giving him a little strength. But as he looked at Scott, their connection felt different, deeper than before. He could still feel the emotional weight of his argument with Alfie, the uncertainty hanging over everything, but there was something else there, too. Something unexpected.

Without thinking, Jordan leaned forward, his lips pressing gently against Scott’s. The kiss was initially soft, tentative and uncertain, but it was enough to send a shock wave through Scott’s body. He froze, unsure what to do, but he pulled back sharply after a heartbeat. His hands rose to Jordan’s shoulders, gently but firmly creating space between them.

“Jordan,” Scott said, his voice quieter now but still steady, “stop. I can’t do this. I can’t get between you and Alfie. Both of you are my friends. I won’t cause you two to split up.”

Jordan blinked, a fresh tear slipping down his cheek. His voice was low, barely more than a whisper, but it was heavy with pain. “I think we’re done. I think I’ve blown it. I think I’ve lost Alfie. Please, Scott, don’t push me away. I need this. I need you. Now.”

Slowly, deliberately, Jordan leaned in again, his lips brushing Scott’s once more, this time with more urgency. He didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want to feel like he had lost everything. Maybe this kiss would be a distraction, a momentary escape from his turmoil.

Scott hesitated, his hands lingering on Jordan’s shoulders, unsure. The conflict was clear in his eyes, but as Jordan’s lips met his again, slowly, almost cautiously this time, Scott’s resistance began to soften. His hands dropped to Jordan’s waist, and with a sudden, unexpected movement, he returned the kiss.