Lieutenant Commader Varyn K’lev sat in his ready room on USS Culver City, nursing a cup of raktajino that had largely gone cold and contemplating the screen on his desktop monitor.  Culver City was nearly back to Derganix, where she would be expected to assist in the recovery of her sister, USS Blythe, lately brought down and crashed on the planet’s surface.  In preparation, K’lev was studying scans of the Blythe, provided by the runabout Irrawaddy and USS Soval, to ensure he was fully-informed when he met later with Lieutenant Pelix, his chief engineer, to discuss the operation.

The door chime pulled him from his contemplations.  “It’s open,” he called.

The door swished open, and Lieutenant (jg) Hilava, the ship’s chief medical officer, entered, holding a PADD in her hands.  “Is now a good time?” She asked.

K’lev nodded.  “Yeah….  I need to take a break anyway.  What’s up?”

She walked over to the desk, setting the PADD on it and sliding it across.  “I’ve completed my examination of our passengers,” she replied, “here’s the report.”

He sighed; going from one heavy topic, to an even heavier one.  K’lev accepted the PADD, reading the report.  Hilava had done a masterful job in her exams – which came as no surprise, as K’lev knew her to be incredibly attentive in her work – and the report was incredibly detailed.  Hilava had found evidence, on several of Culver City’s prisoners, that suggested post-arrest injuries which had been at least quickly treated afterwards, though certain tell-tale markers were still there.  The report then picked up with an addition from Lieutenant (jg) Ghimir – the ship’s counselor – who noted that the nature of the likely-quick healing suggested knowledge of wrongdoing and thus attempts to conceal on behalf of the accused security officers.

Once he was done reading, K’lev sighed heavily, pinched the bridge of his nose, then tapped his combadge.  “K’lev to Lotharys.  Ophelia, could you join Hilava and I in the ready room?”

“Just a sec,” she replied.

Quite literally just a few moments later, the door swished open and Lotharys entered, crossing to the deck and looking between K’lev and Hilava.  “How can I help?” she asked.

In reply, K’lev slid the PADD across the desk to her.  “Hilava’s report,” he said simply, in a low voice.

Lotharys spent a couple of minutes quickly reading the report, covering her mouth with one hand by the time she put the PADD down.  “I’m glad we caught it when we did…” she whispered.

Both K’lev and Hilava nodded in full agreement.  “Same,” K’lev said.  “But what scares me is that we missed it for as long as we did.  How do we make sure it doesn’t happen again, and that if it does we can catch it faster?”

The two subordinate officers looked between each other, then Hilava spoke.  “Daily medical screenings?  That way we could catch changes more quickly.”

K’lev pursed his lips thoughtfully, his mismatched eyes now turning to Lotharys.  She took a moment before responding.  “Well, obviously we need to do some retraining for our security team…  Other than that, putting someone not from security in charge of each brig shift?”

K’lev nodded.  “All good ideas…  Let’s do them all.  And let’s also mandate weekly – or at least biweekly – counseling for anyone assigned to the brig, too, so we can keep an eye on them.”

Hilava smiled.  “Watch the watchers?” she asked.

“Exactly,” K’lev replied.  “Perhaps we can catch issues before they become issues?”  He shrugged; it could certainly work, but it was hard to say for certain without implementing it.

Lotharys nodded.  “I’ll go ahead and cut the orders, so we can get things in place.  But we still need to take care of our issue, too.”

“That we do…” K’lev mused.  “A court-martial, definitely, but I’m not sure what else Duwalla has in store for us, so timing is a question, but it can’t run on for too long before trial.”

Hilava chimed in.  “Maybe the Soval could take them back to Framheim, and the station’s JAG could try them?”

K’lev thought for a moment.  “Couldn’t hurt to ask them, but this is our issue, so we should handle it ourselves if we can.  But doing it here has me worried, though, since we also have to make sure those three’re treated fairly, which may need things to be dealt with elsewhere…” he looked to Lotharys.  “Let’s ask Soval and Framheim; if either gets confused, tell the truth; we’re worried about being able to balance justice and the rights of the accused, since the captain and XO were both involved in the arrest.”

The pair nodded.  “Okay, we’ve got ourselves a plan, then!  Excellent work, both of you.”

With that, the meeting ended, and Hilava and Lotharys both exited the ready room; Lotharys remained on the bridge and retook the conn, while Hilava returned to sickbay.  A few minutes later, an alert sounded from the helm.  “We’re coming up on Derganix,” Lieutenant (jg) Ari Phillips said from the helm.

Lotharys, now seated in the command chair, nodded, then tapped her combadge.  “Lotharys to K’lev; we’re about to slow to impulse.”

“On my way,” came the reply; a few moments later, K’lev emerged from the ready room.  “I’ve got her,” he said, taking the conn as he crossed to the command chair – vacated by Lotharys as he approached – then took his seat; meanwhile, Lotharys resumed her usual position at Sciences.

A few minutes later, the streaked stars on Culver City’s viewscreen shortened to points of light as she slowed to impulse power, arcing towards a standard orbit of Derganix.  Ahead, all on the bridge could see that blue-green orb floating in the cosmos; then, crossing the terminator – the arc visible on the planet that differentiated which half of it was seeing its day, and which half rested under the cover of night – from darkness into the sunlight drifted a comparatively-small grey shape: USS Soval.

The Soval was an Ambassador-class starship.  An older vessel, but still more than capable, she and her sisters were ultimately a transitional design between the classic, slightly more utilitarian, Constitution– and Excelsior-class vessels and the stately and elegant Galaxy-class family, of which Culver City as a California-class vessel was herself a member.  There were some in Starfleet who felt the Ambassadors looked a little awkward, but K’lev had always found that awkwardness to be its own form of beauty.  Thus, they had always held a bit of a special place in K’lev’s heart, so seeing Soval drifting through space, sunlight glinting off of her hull and windows, brought a smile to his face.

As Culver City moved closer, approaching orbit, other vessels came into visual range: a half-dozen shuttlecraft, homeless after the downing of the Blythe and clustered around Soval like moths drawn to a flame.  K’lev settled back in his chair.  “Tiza, see if you can get the Soval on comms, would you?”

Tiza nodded, working his console; a few moments later, the viewscreen shifted to show a human commander.  “This is the Soval, Commander Reynolds speaking; how can we help you, Culver City?

K’lev cleared his throat, a little nervous as he realized he was speaking to a senior officer.  “I’m Lieutenant Commander K’lev, commanding officer of the Culver City,” he began by way of introduction.  “If you and your captain would allow, sir, we’d like to come into orbit alongside you.  Didn’t want to just pull up, what with the shuttles you’ve got orbiting you.”

Reynolds nodded.  “Permission granted, Captain,” he said.  “And thank you for the asking, we appreciate the cautious approach with the shuttles.  As well you know, Blythe’s crew have been through a lot.”

“Of course,” K’lev replied.  “And if we could impose on you for one other matter, sir, I would appreciate it.  We have some Ferengi prisoners aboard, from two shuttles we had to deal with after Blythe’s downing.  Regrettably, a few of our security personnel have since conducted themselves in a manner completely contrary to their oaths and to Starfleet’s principles with regard to these prisoners.  It’ll all be in my report, sir, but we find ourselves in the position of needing to convey a court-martial for them, but as both myself and my executive officer participated in their arrests, we cannot sit as judges independently, to ensure that the rights of the accused are properly respected in the trial.”

“Feel free to beam them over; we can convene a court-martial here.  And I must thank you again, Captain, for your diligence; it would’ve been easier to just try them yourself, but it wouldn’t have been right,” Reynolds answered.

K’lev had to try to stifle an expression of flattered embarrassment.  “We’ll transfer our former security officers after we fall into orbit,” he said, “and will be ready to participate in the trial when it convenes.”

“Very good.  Is there anything else?”

“No, sir,” K’lev answered.  “Culver City out.”  With that, the channel closed.

K’lev looked to Lieutenant (jg) Phillips.  “Ari, put us in orbit alongside the Soval on her starboard side, nice and easy.”  His eyes then shifted to Lieutenant (jg) Tyrisa sh’Livo at tactical.  “Tyrisa, please see to it that those three prisoners are transferred to the Soval as soon as we’re in orbit.”

The two junior lieutenants nodded, setting about their tasks.  A few minutes later, Culver City slid into orbit on Soval’s starboard quarter.