The Starfleet type-fourteen shuttle glided smoothly through the gentle hues of the Kovar evening sky, a delicate symphony of purples and golds stretching to the horizon. On either side, a pair of Valkryie-class fighters escorted the shuttle. Flying towards the planet’s capital city, New Hampton City, the shuttle started its final approach. 

Below, the Governor’s Mansion stood like a crystalline cathedral, with angular towers that caught the fading sunlight and broke it into a kaleidoscope of sparkling colours. The grand ballroom within promised a night of elegance and solemn celebration, its roof windows glowing warmly against the twilight.

Inside the shuttle’s cabin, Vice Admiral Jaret sat with her usual poised calm, an island of serene command amid the hum of the ship’s systems. Her tall, statuesque figure was clad in the sharp lines of her dress uniform, the silver highlights of her bobbed hair catching the dim lighting. Her clear and deep blue eyes reflected a mind racing quietly beneath her composed exterior. Years of leadership had taught her to welcome such moments with grace, but tonight was different. Tonight, the weight of history, duty, and delicate diplomacy pressed on her more heavily. She took several moments to reflect on everything before taking a deep breath. 

The last few months on Deep Space Nineteen and for the Kovar system had been dramatic. The Vaadwaur attempted to overwhelm them; however, their attacks were easily repelled thanks to the sophisticated defence network across the Kovar system. Multiple orbital weapon platforms, a tight security grid, and hundreds of Starfleet starfighters helped defend the station and the largest Federation colony in the sector. As a result of this, other nearby worlds had evacuated and sought refuge within the secured confines of Kovar. Thankfully, the blackout interference the Vaadwaur had employed across the Alpha and Beta Quadrants had not reached Kovar. It had become a sanctuary for so many. 

Now they were taking the time to celebrate how Kovar had stood so firm against a fierce opposition. Compared to other Federation worlds, they had been lucky to get out of it with a few scratches. Now it was time for Kovar to change direction and help those who needed to recover. 

Beside Jaret, Levy shifted nervously in her seat, fingers wrapped tightly around a PADD. The soft glow from the screen illuminated her face, revealing a mixture of determination and vulnerability. Her silver pixie cut framed a visage still animated with youthful energy, despite the many battles she had weathered, both in space and within her own heart. A flicker of doubt tempered Levy’s usual vibrant smile as she silently reviewed the speech she had laboured over, her words meant to bridge any wounds from the Vaadwaur incursion and inspire hope.

Jaret glanced at her companion and allowed a rare, teasing smile to break through. “You know,” she murmured, her voice low and steady, “you always manage to rewrite brilliance into something even better. I just hope the crowd’s ready for it.”

Levy returned the smile with a soft chuckle, the tension in her shoulders easing. “It’s not about perfection tonight,” she replied, eyes meeting Jaret’s with unshakable trust. They had been friends for many years now and entrusted one another explicitly. That said, it wasn’t just Levy who contributed to this speech. Several members of D-S-Nineteen’s diplomatic department had been involved. She had given them the direction and themes and had final say over it before handing it over to the admiral. “It’s about meaning. And I trust you to make it yours.”

“Admiral, captain,” their pilot spoke up, “we’re about to land.”

The young Bolian ensign who sat in the cockpit appeared slightly sheepish for interrupting their conversation. Beside him were their Edosian and Kreetassan security guards. Both had kept quiet the entire journey from the station to the governor’s residence.   

The shuttle’s landing gear engaged with a soft hiss, and the craft settled onto the polished expanse of the landing pad. The two escorts just flew above and confirmed over the intercom that they were heading back to the station. Eventually, the aft hatch opened smoothly, releasing Jaret and Levy into the cool night air tinged with salt from the nearby sea. The distant sound of waves breaking against New Hampton City’s rocky shore mingled with the murmur of arriving guests, dressed in their finest attire.

Awaiting them at the grand entrance stood Governor Sean Thompson. His demeanour was that of a seasoned former Starfleet officer. A veteran of the Dominion War and many other galactic events that occurred in the late twenty-fourth century, his broad-shouldered, steady-eyed, and composed appearance reflected his strong leadership stance. But the lines etched into his face told stories beyond what was known to the public. Years of political battles, of decisions weighing heavily on his conscience. His salt-and-pepper hair was neatly trimmed, his expression a carefully measured blend of warmth and authority. The moment his eyes fell on Jaret, a slight twitch appeared across his face. There was history between the two of them; however, tonight, that wasn’t on the agenda.

“Vice Admiral Jaret,” Thompson greeted with a firm but respectful nod before extending his hand out towards hers. His voice carried the same calm authority one might expect from a ship’s bridge, laced with the subtle steel of a man who had defended his world fiercely. He soon turned to the admiral’s colleague. “Captain Levy. It is an honour to have you both here this evening.”

Jaret inclined her head, her smile quiet but sincere. “Thank you, Mister Governor. We are honoured by the invite.”

Thompson’s smile was genuine, but beneath it lay an unspoken tension. A reminder of past disagreements, especially surrounding the fragment of Remus entering Kovar’s system. The balance between Federation unity and Kovar’s sovereignty had tested their relationship over the years, though tonight they were allies in celebration. 

Inside, the ballroom was a shimmering tableau of light and sound. Crystal chandeliers hung like constellations, scattering refracted starlight across the polished marble floors. The scent of fresh Kovar orchids and spiced wine drifted through the air. Conversations buzzed like a low tide, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the gentle clinking of glasses. Federation officers mingled with planetary officials, scientists, and civilians whose lives had been irrevocably changed by recent events.

Discreet holo-cameras floated near the ceiling, transmitting the event live to audiences across Kovar and nearby colonies, their soft glow blending with the ambient lighting.

Thompson’s voice cut through the hum as he raised a glass, calling the crowd’s attention with the practised ease of a former captain rallying his crew. He had moved to the small raised lectern at the head of the room in front of the live orchestra that was entertaining the various guests. “Tonight, we gather not only to celebrate survival, but the enduring spirit of cooperation and hope that will carry us all into the future. It is my privilege to announce that Vice Admiral Jaret Taila will deliver open remarks.”

Jaret’s eyes sought Levy’s, the quiet weight of the moment shared without words. Levy offered a small, encouraging nod. The anticipation tightened in Jaret’s chest, tempered by the knowledge that tonight, her words could help shape the fragile peace they were rebuilding together.

Levy turned to  Jaret, voice soft and steady. “I wrote the words, but you make them breathe.”

Jaret exhaled slowly, steadying herself against the tide of expectation. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dawn,” she said quietly. “I suppose it’s time we remind everyone why peace is worth the fight.” She took a sip of the Bajoran spring wine she had been given after entering the great grand ballroom and made her way across the floor towards where the governor stood. She thanked him and looked out at the party guests.

“Thank you, Governor Thompson, and thank you all for being here tonight. We gather in a moment of quiet strength, not just to celebrate survival, but to honour the spirit of resilience that has carried us through the shadows of fear and uncertainty. The past months have tested Kovar, Deep Space Nineteen, and every soul who calls this system home. The Vaadwaur threat was fierce and unrelenting, yet it is our courage and compassion to stand, and our willingness to open our arms to those displaced and wounded. This is what defines the true strength of our community. Our home.”

Pausing for a second, she looked back down at the speech, now floating just before her on the holographic teleprompter. Seeing Levy at the corner of her eye, Jaret smirked before continuing. “I think of my own journey, from a frightened child pulled from the darkness of occupation to a Starfleet officer who has fought for peace across many fronts. It was the hands of others, strangers who have become family, that lifted me from fear to freedom. And so I know, with absolute certainty, that peace is not the absence of war, but the conscious choice to act with kindness after loss. This choice is never easy. It requires us to look beyond our scars, beyond our grievances, and to see the shared hopes in one another’s eyes. It calls on us to be patient with the healing process, to offer support without expectation, and to build bridges where walls once stood. As a former engineer, I know it can be challenging to keep going when rebuilding something. It may not always be the same as it was, but we can always make improvements along the way.”

She looked over at where Thompson stood, accompanied by some of his staff and other important guests. “Here, on Kovar, we have witnessed the fragile birth of that hope. A community that has endured, that has sheltered the vulnerable, that has refused to let fear dictate its future. The true strength of Kovar is its compassion. Not in how it survived the storm, but in how it welcomed those who needed shelter from it. Tonight, as we raise our glasses, let us honour the lives we lost, the trials we endured, and the promise we now hold. To the leaders who made hard decisions, to the civilians who trusted in the light beyond the darkness, and to every person who dared to dream of peace. Thank you.”

From the edge of the crowd, Levy watched the admiral with pride shining behind quiet tears. When the applause finally ebbed, Levy crossed to Jaret’s side, her voice warm but firm. “Nice work, Admiral. I told you that you’ll be fine.”

Jaret’s smile was small but genuine. “Thanks, Dawn, I couldn’t have got the message across without your input.”

Nearby, Thompson stepped forward, his voice firm but fair. “Vice Admiral, your words remind us all why we must keep striving, even when the path ahead is uncertain. Kovar is stronger for your leadership, and for the friendship we continue to build, despite our differences.”

Jaret met his gaze evenly, resolve steady beneath the warm lighting. “We do this for the future of Kovar, together.”

Thompson raised his flute glass towards the admiral in agreement. “To the future,” He toasted before Levy, Jaret, and he clinked their glasses together. 

The orchestra resumed, and the guests began to mingle once more. The evening’s celebrations continued.

Much later and out on one of the verandas, the night had taken on a serene stillness. The stars shimmered over the bay, reflecting gently off the calm water below, while the warm breeze carried the faint scent of salt and flowering trees from the hills beyond.

After some time mingling with so many people inside, Jaret stepped out into the night, her eyes adjusting quickly to the moonlit landscape. She spotted Levy standing at the edge of the veranda, silhouetted against the glow of the harbour lights, cradling an empty glass in her hand.

Without a word, Jaret approached with a quiet smile, holding out another glass of Saurian brandy. Levy looked over her shoulder and accepted it with a soft murmur of thanks.

For a while, they just stood there together, taking in the scene.

“You forget how different the air feels,” Jaret said at last. “Clean, unprocessed. It’s warmer somehow. Fuller.”

Levy nodded. “There’s something reassuring about it. It’s not recycled a thousand times before you breathe it in.”

Jaret chuckled softly. “It always hits me when I come down to Kovar. Like I’ve been holding my breath for days and only just remembered how to inhale properly.”

Levy turned toward her. “So are you going to take your own advice, Admiral?”

Jaret arched a brow as she raised her glass to her lips. “Which part?”

“The part about stepping away. About finding space to breathe.”

A pause.

“I don’t know yet,” Jaret admitted after finishing a small sip, her voice quiet. “The crew’s earned some time off. They need it. And truthfully, so do I. But letting go, even briefly, it never comes easy.”

Levy gave a small smile and looked back toward the bay. “You don’t always have to carry it all alone. You have me, Tate and Sandra already to help out.”

“And I appreciate it,” Jaret said, raising her glass in gratitude. “I just think that all I’ve thought about is this ball and that speech. I’ll see what I’ve got waiting for me before deciding to take a few days off like the others.”

They lapsed into silence again, the kind that was heavy with shared understanding rather than discomfort. The waves lapped gently against the shore, and somewhere down the coast, a soft whistle of music drifted up from the town. The two women’s strong, long-lasting friendship meant that they could enjoy the silence together. 

After a long moment, Jaret asked, “Will you be seeing anyone while we’re here?”

Levy took a slow sip of her brandy. Her expression softened, then tightened. “No,” she said. “I’m not going to see my son.”

Jaret didn’t press, only offered a gentle nod. That truth, too, hung in the air between them, raw but respected. 

Then, footsteps echoed behind them. Thompson, still in formal wear but looking more at ease, approached. He paused just a few steps from them, the harbour light casting a faint gleam on his face.

“I wanted to thank you both,” he said carefully. “For coming tonight. For the speech. Most media outlets are reporting it. It meant a lot to the people, and me.” He hesitated, shifting slightly. “Even if I won’t admit it to anyone else.”

Levy smiled, but said nothing.

Jaret inclined her head. “We’re glad to be here, Governor.”

He nodded. “Get some rest while you can. The entire mansion and its staff are here to ensure your stay is as comfortable as possible. And remember, Kovar has got more than politics to offer.” Thompson paused for a second. “At least for a few days.”

With a polite nod, Thompson turned and disappeared back inside, leaving the two women alone once more.

“Jeez, who thought it would take a possible invasion to soften his shields?” Levy chuckled into her glass.

“Absolutely, Dawn. I never thought I would see the day to hear Governor Thompson thank us.” Jaret smirked before sipping her glass one more time, savouring the taste in the moonlit night.