It wasn’t a formal diagnosis, but Taes’ circadian rhythm was demonstrating symptoms of disorder.  Even past eleven hundred hours, Taes had not risen from her nyctinasty plot.  In the relative privacy of her quarters, Taes had maintained a nastic posture that was unnatural to the cycles of the day and duty shift.  She was laying on her stomach, one arm hanging over the side of the bed.  The prideful red petals of her uniform lay on the floor.  Despite this, Taes’ breathing had not slowed to her natural sleeping rate; her hormones were consistent with a state of wakefulness.  

Doctor Nelli could taste the truth of it in the air between them.

After Taes had dismissed Nelli’s comm with a single word and ignored two door chimes, Nelli made use of their medical override codes to access the interior of Taes’ private chambers.  Even this invasion of what many in Starfleet referred to as privacy elicited no verbal or physical reaction from Taes.  Taes merely blinked at Nelli.

The captain’s quarters were no larger than Nelli’s own as chief medical officer.  Nelli’s brief examination of the room revealed none of the personal belongings Taes had cherished aboard the USS Sarek.  Instead, packing crates remained stacked in a corner of the compartment, now weeks after the ship’s launch under Taes’ command.

Nelli made a half-hearted attempt to initiate conversation with Taes to no avail.  Taes spoke no words in response; she didn’t even grunt.  Taes only pulled the textile coverings up to her neck.  On their four thick motor limbs, Nelli shuffled across the compartment, away from where Taes lay, to provide instructions to the replicator.  Nelli requested a warm cargil broth in a mug with both a spoon and a straw.  They reached for the source of nourishment with two prehensile vines.

Through the compartment’s exterior viewports, a workbee’s searchlight turned towards the ship, spilling harsh illumination into the dimly lit room.  Despite what Nelli had been educated about the sensitivity of Deltan eyes, Taes made no reaction to the flood of light.  The presence of the workbee meant the engineering team from Farpoint Station had freed up enough capacity to commence repairs on Constellation’s shield generators.  

The Battle of Farpoint had been costly to the Fourth Fleet.  Once the Founders in the Gamma Quadrant had sent word of the Dominion’s treaty with the Federation, much of the Lost Fleet had surrendered to be escorted back to the Gamma Quadrant. However, the remainder of the Lost Fleet had converged on the Deneb system for one final attack on Starfleet’s molecular pump.  Like much of the Fourth Fleet, Constellation had answered the call to defend Farpoint Station.  In spite of the damage already taken at the Kholara system, the Constitution III-class starship had proven herself as resilient as her crew.  

To keep the crew at their stations through the battle, Doctor Nelli had worked beyond any limits they had known for themselves, managing the medical team through a mass casualty event.  Their Phylosian nervous system didn’t afford them with all of the stamina and pain resistance of humanoid adrenaline; they had found motivation through sheer mindfulness alone.  Nelli suspected it would take more than mindfulness to get Taes back on her feet in this time.  Although Taes’ leadership had inspired the crew to survive the battle, Nelli couldn’t be certain Taes was entirely satisfied with such an outcome.

The senior staff had been advised that Farpoint Station was too over-extended to provide for the Constellation’s extensive list of repair needs.  The Presidium-class starbase didn’t have the capacity, given the wreckage and casualties of the final battle.  Only the basic necessities of the warp nacelles and deflector shields would be repaired well enough to ensure Constellation could complete her mission before seeking out a drydock for the rest.  Constellation’s place in the Frontier Day formations was coming into greater and greater question, Nelli had been told.

Nelli ordered the computer to project privacy blinds over the viewports and a holographic opacity quickly clicked into place, hiding the interior of Taes’ quarters from view.  With two vines intertwined with the handle, Nelli carried the mug of broth to Taes’ bedside.  While Constellation rested under the safe watch of Farpoint Station’s defense platforms, Nelli supposed there was no urgent need to repair Taes to the point of battle readiness.  Nelli could find satisfaction in meeting Taes’ basic necessities.  Food.  Hydration.  At a start.

From the bedside, Nelli proffered the mug of broth to Taes, but Taes’ hands hung limply.  Despite Nelli’s urgings, Taes remained unmoving.  Using two more of their vines, Nelli lifted Taes’ hand and they attempted a manual docking procedure between her hand and the mug to no avail.  Taes’ hand hung limply.  Returning Tae’s hand to the bed, Nelli brought the lip of the mug to Taes’ lips, but Taes wouldn’t drink.  Nelli simply spilled a measure of the broth on Taes’ bed.  Taes rolled over, turning her back on Nelli.

Ultimately, Nelli gave up.  They trotted to the exit and only when the doors opened for them did Taes offer Nelli any indication she was still alive.

“Did they find him?” Taes asked tensely.  “Kellin?”

Nelli had no answer for Taes and they kept walking, permitting the doors to close behind them.