“So, how does a young Starfleet ensign arrange a trip away on a luxury yacht?”

Tateumm smirked as he raised his glass of Bajoran spring wine. The last of the sun dipped below the horizon, casting streaks of gold and lavender across the rippling ocean. The Mote’s sundeck was still warm from the day, and he and Shaynia sat together near the bow, wrapped in a shared blanket, an empty plate of moba fruit slices and spicy hasperat chips resting between them.

He gave a relaxed shrug. “As I said before, my dad organised the whole thing to celebrate their wedding anniversary.”

Shaynia eyed him over the rim of her glass, her bare feet tucked beneath her. “Yeah, I remember,” she said, clearly unconvinced. “So do all Betazoids third-wheel their parents’ anniversary trips?”

He chuckled, brushing a wind-tousled lock of hair from his forehead. “No, that’s not exactly a Betazoid tradition.”

“Then what is it?”

He sighed lightly and looked toward the distant lights of Zifi Bay twinkling on the shore. “Did you see Admiral Jaret’s speech at the Governor’s Ball the other night?”

“Of course,” Shaynia nodded. “Who didn’t? She’s inspiring. Her speech gave me chills.”

“Same, and she is an incredible commanding officer. I know I’m fortunate to serve under her.” He paused. “But speeches like that, well, they’re just poetic. They don’t cover the full weight of what happened. Even the admiral knows that, and Captain Levy, who helped her write it. It was enough to keep the politicians happy for now. ”

She tilted her head. “You were on Deep Space Nineteen?”

“Yeah. My parents and I joined just over two years ago. We had called Starbase Bravo home for a long time.” He glanced down at his glass. “I flew with the hundreds of starfighters during the Vaadwaur invasion.”

Her eyes softened. “That must’ve been intense.”

“It was. Every day for weeks, scrambling fighters, evacuating civilians, watching people die.” His jaw tightened. “We held the line, but it cost us. And that wasn’t even the worst day,” he added quietly. “That came during the evacuation of Jantori.”

Her brow furrowed. “The first colony in the Alcor sector that the Vaadwaur destroyed?”

He nodded. “We got the call too late. I was on the Formidable’s bridge. We managed to save about forty-seven thousand people. Out of more than a million.” He swallowed hard. “We couldn’t even land. Just escorted as many civilian ships as we could out of the danger zone before the settlement was lost.”

“That’s horrific.”

Shaynia leaned in slightly. Tateumm could hear her heart and mind reach out to him. Perhaps he was sharing too much, but he knew he had to get it off his chest. It was either now or in a counselling session with Taf back on the station.

“That’s not all of it, is it?” She asked, her voice quiet. “You look like you’ve got the weight of the galaxy on your shoulders.”

He hesitated. “Well, even before all of that mess, there was Frontier Day.”

She blinked. “You were assimilated?”

“I was in a runabout with my parents when the Borg signal took control of me. My mother and father had to stun me before I tried to take over.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Not exactly a proud family moment.”

“But they saved you.”

“They did.” He nodded as he took a sip of his wine. His glass was almost empty. “Still doesn’t make it easy to look them in the eyes sometimes.”

Shaynia reached over and gently brushed her fingers against his hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He gave her a faint, grateful smile. “Oh, it doesn’t stop there. After Frontier Day and when the underspace apertures opened up, I was kidnapped by Caatati refugees.”

“I remember reading something about that last year,” She said, sounding surprised. “One of their ships captured a Starfleet officer after their intruder alarm said someone was a drone.”

Tateumm nodded. “They thought I was still assimilated. Thought I was lying when I said I wasn’t. I was restrained. Interrogated.” His voice dropped. “It was my colleagues who found me. Pulled me out. Just in time.”

She squeezed his hand now. “By the Prophets’ sanity, Tateumm. That sounds rough going.”

“It was,” he admitted. “But it’s why I needed to come here. To feel the sun on my skin and not plasma heat. To breathe air that hasn’t been recycled through station vents. And to remember there’s still beauty in the galaxy.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her expression softening. “You’re stronger than you think.”

He shook his head, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m just lucky my parents are the way they are. Always watching over me, even when I wish they’d back off a little.”

She smiled. “They sound like good people.”

“They are. But you’re lucky you haven’t met my grandmother.”

Shaynia’s brow lifted in interest. “Oh?”

“She’s the Matriarch of the Fourth House on Betazed. Think: full formal gowns, ceremonial fans, and the ability to shame Starfleet admirals into apologising for their posture.”

Shaynia burst into laughter.

“She once told me I’d never survive in command unless I learned how to walk into a room like I owned the air.” He grinned. “She’s terrifying, but also kind of inspiring.”

“I think I’d love her.”

“You say that now.” Tateumm laughed. “But if she ever finds out I’m talking to a woman under starlight and haven’t yet offered her formal courtship tea, I’m dead.”

They both laughed together, the moment softening, stretching.

For a while, they sat in silence, listening to the waves lap gently against the hull, the evening breeze tugging at the corners of their blanket.

“I needed this,” Tateumm said finally. “The peace. The quiet. The company.”

Shaynia looked over, her voice warm. “Me too.”

Their eyes met again. Neither looked away for a long moment.

Tateumm’s voice broke the silence, low and sincere. “I don’t usually do this,” he admitted. “Open up like that.

Especially not with someone I’ve just met.” He paused, his fingers loosely tracing the rim of his wine glass. “It’s kind of terrifying how easy it’s been.”

Shaynia turned her body toward him, tucking one leg under the other. The warmth in her eyes mirrored the lanterns strung along the deck. “You’re not the only one,” she said quietly. “I’m not great with people. I tend to keep to myself. I’m always either under the sea or buried in data.” She smiled softly. “But being with you, it doesn’t feel like effort. It just feels natural.”

Tateumm’s heart gave an unexpected flutter. He could sense her heart doing the same, but she appeared more at ease with it.

Then, without further hesitation, Shaynia leaned in. Her hand came up gently to rest on his cheek, and she kissed him. A slow, thoughtful kiss. It was tender and unhurried. For a moment, the only thing Tateumm could feel was the beating of his own heart and the exquisite warmth blooming in his chest.

When they finally pulled apart, he stared at her, slightly breathless. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, unsure why the words even escaped him.

Shaynia tilted her head, amused. “Why are you apologising?”

Before he could answer, she smiled, placed both hands on his shoulders, and gently pushed him back against the cushions that sat behind them. She hovered just above him for a few more seconds.

“Don’t apologise,” she whispered, her voice playful and inviting.

She kissed him again, and he kissed her back.

The aft deck of the Mote had been cleared for the evening. No crew, no bustle, no soft clinking of dishes. Just the gentle rhythm of waves brushing against the yacht’s hull, and the glittering stars scattered across the Kovar night sky. Lanterns hung from the canopy above, casting a soft golden hue over the wooden deck, while string music hummed from the sound system. It was low, graceful, and intimate.

Jaxxon and Anizza were the only two beneath the stars. The remains of a candlelit dinner were pushed aside. Empty glasses of wine, half-melted dessert plates, and a vase of pink and red lilies caught in the breeze. They had danced through two songs already, slowly swaying in each other’s arms, pressed chest-to-chest. Their movements were unhurried, timeless. It was calm, it was peaceful, it was perfect.

Jaxxon’s palm slid gently against the small of Anizza’s back as he turned them again. Her head rested against his shoulder, her body instinctively matching his pace.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice barely louder than the waves below them, “this reminds me of our first dance.”

Anizza raised her head and gave him a crooked smile. “Oh? You remember that?”

“How could I not?” he grinned. “It was in twenty-three-seventy-four on the Beta Antares Shipyards. That tiny café next to the engineering depot. You wore that Tholian silk scarf.”

She blinked once, then laughed softly. “Jaxxon, we didn’t dance that night. That was the night we walked through the arboretum and ended up dancing in my quarters.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, right! You’re right.” He chuckled to himself.

“Exactly,” she said, shaking her head fondly. “And the day after that, the Romulans stole the Prometheus.”

He gave a loud snort. “I honestly thought that was going to be the end of our careers. I had no idea how we were going to explain why the prototype starship was hijacked during our supply run.”
Anizza giggled. “One of many close shaves.”

He nodded. “Remember twenty-three-ninety-three? On the Artemis? That Ferengi merchant we suspected was smuggling weapon components.”

Anizza rolled her eyes. “The one supplying pirate cells along the Cardassian border? You just had to chase him through a busy non-aligned trading colony with criminals left, right and centre.”

“Hey, I caught him. Didn’t I?”

“You nearly got yourself killed in the process,” she teased. “And nearly caused a diplomatic incident with the Sheliak.”

“I regret nothing,” Jaxxon said with mock solemnity. “But even all that doesn’t compare to Frontier Day.”

Anizza’s smile faded. “No,” she agreed softly. “It doesn’t.”

The music continued to play, a delicate piano piece floating in the air around them, but the silence between them was louder.

“Seeing him like that,” Jaxxon went on. “Blank-eyed. Connected to that signal. That wasn’t our son.”

Her voice dropped. “We had to bring him down ourselves.”

“We saved him,” he said quietly. “Just about.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it since,” she replied, eyes glistening in the candlelight. “Then let’s not even talk about last year with the Caatati and then seeing all of those refugees thanks to the Vaadwaur. There have been days when I’ve just wanted to walk away from it all. Leave Starfleet. Go back to Betazed. Or maybe Mellstoxx.”

He looked at her, long and searching. “I’ve been thinking about it too.”

Her brow furrowed. “You have?”

Jaxxon hesitated, then nodded. “Not about leaving, exactly. But changing course.”

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him. “Jaxxon, what are you saying?”

He took a breath, slow and deep. “I’ve been offered a command. An Andromeda-class explorer on a five-year deep space mission.”

Anizza froze in his arms. “You’ve been what?”

“It’s not official yet,” he said quickly. “I haven’t decided anything. I have time. We have time.”

She stepped back. “Then why didn’t you tell me straight away?”

“We’ve been so busy with the clean-up operations since the Vaadwaur were stopped. I’ve not had a chance to stop and really think about Starfleet’s offer. Plus, I didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily. Or bring it up when everything’s still so raw for us here.”

“That’s not your choice to make! That type of decision is something we need to make together as a couple and as a family. We’ve only been on Deep Space Nineteen for two years. Why would we want to move on, yet?” Her voice was rising now, sharp with the edge of betrayal. “Why do you always do this? Make the decision, or sit on it, and then maybe include me later?”

He blinked, confused. “That’s not…” He paused as he composed himself. “Anizza, I was going to talk to you—”

“Eventually. When it’s convenient and you’ve made a decision, but you know what, Jaxxon? Every time we make a major career move, it’s your career. Or it’s to help Tateumm. It’s never me.”

His eyes widened. “That’s not fair, Imzadi. The last three changes have been for our son, our family, which we’ve made together.”

“No, it’s not.” She folded her arms. “Every time we have moved from one assignment to the next, we’ve done it together at your insistence or your suggestion. You’ve led the way on the decision-making. I followed you to Deep Space Nineteen when you said we needed to change our scenery for Tateumm. And now, now, when our lives are finally settling, when we’ve actually found a routine, you get offered a ship and don’t even think to tell me?”

Jaxxon looked stricken. “It wasn’t like that. I was going to tell you. I just didn’t want to lose this. Us. Nothing has been decided.”

Anizza shook her head slowly. “You don’t lose us by getting an offer, Jaxx. You risk losing us when you forget we’re in this together.”

They stood there in silence, the music winding down into a soft lull.

“I need some space,” she whispered.

“Anizza…”

But she had already stepped away, walking across the deck with quiet determination. Her figure disappeared through the glass doors, leaving Jaxxon standing alone beneath the lanterns, staring out over the black velvet ocean.