When Mason and RJ left Anderson’s office, Raan didn’t follow the other captain down to the docking arms. Instead, after sending a message to his new XO to get the ship ready for the off, he hung a left and went in search of the bars. 

The problem was, even though SB86 an Aurora class and therefore one of the smallest types of spacedock, she was still a spacedock and that meant there were a hell of a lot of bars. 

And he had an hour before they left. 

“Okay,” he murmured to himself as he started to walk, checking out the frontages as he went. “Where are you likely to be?”

They had this every time they hit a base, spacedock, outpost, or went dirtside. Any little bit of leave time and at least one of two things happened before they pushed off again; he either had to fetch Kovash from the brig, or Bennett from a bar. 

He groaned under his breath and rubbed the back of his neck, still checking bars out. None of them were quite right. He’d known Bennett since they were kids, so he knew exactly the kind of bar he’d go for.  

Ironically, that choice had nothing to do with the alcohol they served. He sped up, aware of the ticking clock. 

“I’m so kicking your ass for this, Dayne,” he grumbled under his breath as he started to jog. He hated running, loathed it with the passion of a thousand fiery suns. He was way too big a frame to run easily, even though he ran every day. Safely in the gym on a treadmill after he’d nearly squashed an ensign in the Resolute corridors on his morning run. 

He kept an eye out to make sure he didn’t run into or over anyone, and ducked every now and then to look through the doors of any bars that looked promising. They were all second-rate, and dodgy looking ones. The type that, if this hadn’t been a starfleet installation, you’d avoid in case you woke up in an ice bath in the morning with a kidney missing. 

It took him five more minutes to find the right bar. He almost missed it, nearly past the bar before he clocked the dark shadow slumped over the table at the back. Skidding to a stop, he changed direction and headed in. 

“How many has he had?” he asked the bartender as he walked through. The guy held up four fingers. Raan’s head snapped back around as he assessed the size of the mug in front of Dayne. Big enough for four espressos. Shit. This one was going to be a rough one. 

Keith had decided to give himself a change of scenery after Mason and RJ had left, and found himself strolling the station, taking in the sites and clocking a few good restaurants – greasy spoon types that could cure any hangover – that he wanted to try later. He’d only been to 86 a couple times, and both were to refuel and for some minor repairs to the Asger, so it wasn’t some place he was familiar with. Seemed like he needed to be now though, since it was definitely going to be home for a while. 

He was considering calling it a night, grabbing some food from one of the various dives he’d spotted, and turning in when Mason’s massive frame jogging by had caught his eye. He thought about letting it go. After all, he was technically off duty. Curiosity got the best of him, though, and he turned to follow the man, dropping into a brisk clip himself to keep up. 

He seemed to be looking for something, but Keith didn’t know what. Since they were due out within an hour, he had a feeling it was probably a crew member. He slowed when Mason found where he was going and ducked into a crappy bar, and followed him in at a distance. 

Reaching out, Raan moved the mug safely out of the way. Then he stepped back, keeping his weight on the balls of his feet as he checked the space around the big engineer slumped over the table, seemingly unconscious. He wasn’t. Raan knew better than that. 

 Keith didn’t make himself known. He slipped into a booth in the corner to watch… wasn’t like him to spy on folks, but something about this caught his interest. Mason was a different kind of guy, and he was curious how this whole scenario would play out. 

Okay, there was enough room they wouldn’t trash any furniture. Raan leaned in, just by Dayne’s ear and barked, “Bennett! Up and att’em, soldier!”

Bennett came up swinging, his roar rattling the windows at the front of the bar. Raan side-stepped his wild swings with the ease of long practise, wrapping a hard arm around the engineer’s and up around the back of his neck. Locking his arm out and holding him in place. 

“I got you, big guy,” he murmured, holding onto the bucking bronco Dayne had become. The engineer, still out of it, roared and tried to throw him off, but this wasn’t the first time they’d done this particular dance. He kept his balance, keeping Dayne in place. “We’re not there. We’re on SB86. You’re Lieutenant Commander Dayne Bennett, Chief engineer on the Manticore.” 

Keith almost got up to help, but held steady, impressed by Raan’s ability to manage what was apparently a hell of a case of PTSD. 

He didn’t know what made him look up, normally he kept his attention firmly on Dayne when he was like this, but he did, and locked eyes with Anderson, in a booth opposite. 

“He’ll be fine,” he said, feeling the shift in Dayne’s balance. “He’ll be out of it in… now.”

Dayne went limp, like a puppet with its strings cut. Raan manhandled him over a shoulder with a grunt and looked at Anderson again. “He’s a chronic insomniac.”

Keith nodded, “Need a hand?” He asked, standing and walking over toward Mason. “Not exactly a small dude,” He said with a smirk. 

“That he isn’t. He’s put some muscle on, so he’s been hitting the gym as well. I swear he does it on purpose.” Raan snorted, hauling Dayne out from behind the table. No breakages and some help carrying him, today really was looking up. “Thank you,” he added, offering a small quirk of a smile.  

“No problem,” Keith replied, sliding up under the limp man’s other arm. “Christ…  you’re not kidding. He’s heavier than he looks, and that’s saying something,” He quipped with a chuckle. 

Raan chuckled. “That’s llanarians for you. We build ‘em big.” He looked at the bartender as they walked out of the bar, Dayne between them. “Next time he comes in,” he said. “No coffee. Ever. Understood?” 

The bartender nodded, still pale, but didn’t argue. 

Raan managed a look around Dayne at Anderson. “You just happened to be in the same bar?”

“Yeah, cuz I was following you,” Anderson replied with a grin. “Which… isn’t how my day started, but then I saw you running down the promenade and my curiosity got the better of me,” He explained, giving as much of a shrug as he could under the weight of the big man they were carrying. 

“Fair comment,” Raan shouldered as much of Dayne’s weight as he could. Then considered just dropping him on the deck when he snored lightly. 

“I need to get him back to the ship, and into his quarters. He’ll sleep it off,” he explained. Then he’d be awake for something like four days straight. “We fought in the same war. Dayne had to pull his sister from the wreck of a tank.” 

Keith nodded, “That doesn’t sound pleasant,” he said, knowing that had to be the understatement of the century. “Also… did you say coffee? I’m not up on my llanarians physiology… something I’m missing there?”

Raan grinned, realising that Keith was probably thinking he’d offered the equivalent of a whisky on the rocks when Raan had been on duty. “Nope. Dayne just drinks enough of the stuff to come out the other side of sober. Makes him a lot tweaky, then he passes out. Hits quicker than alcohol, apparently. We need a lot of that to get drunk, but that’s more a mass thing. Don’t drink llanarian brandy,” he warned quickly. “It’ll seriously knock you on your arse.”

Keith laughed at that, “That’s impressive,” He admitted. “And duly noted. Although, maybe one night for fun I’ll give it a try,” He said, chuckling. 

“You know… I have to ask… Is this man fit for duty?” He asked, as carefully as he knew how. 

“Not currently.” Raan’s reply was quick and honest. “Which is why he’s never rostered on duty when we ship out. It’s always his second in command. Six hours and he’ll be good for days.” 

They reached the lift and managed to maneuver the three of them in there. Sensibly, the group of ensigns who had been planning to take the same one decided to wait. 

“He’s had my back for years,” he said, watching Keith’s expression carefully. “And I’m not cutting him loose because of how he deals with his demons when I can work around it.”

Keith nodded, leaning back against the wall a bit for support, “Works for me. So long as you’re aware and can handle it, that’s fine.” 

“I can handle him.” Relief washed through Raan. It was unexpected, since normally he didn’t think much on what people thought of him. For some reason though, this was different. It mattered to him what Keith thought. 

“I have llanarian brandy,” he said, then grinned. “But there’s no way I’m putting you and RJ anywhere near each other when drinking it.” 

Keith laughed at that, but nodded. “RJ is going to be very disappointed that he’s not my type,” Keith said with a chuckle. “I just want to see how bad he gets when he’s drinking,” He said with a laugh. “Off the record, of course.”

Raan barked a laugh. “Oh gods, me too. Don’t worry, he’ll be hankering after someone else in a day or so. You should have seen him with my chief helm, right up to the point she threatened to turn him into a pretzel. When’s the next formal function? I say we get him drunk and watch from a safe distance.”  

Keith laughed again at that, “Look, I can’t officially be a part of anything like that at an official function,” He said, then shrugged a little, “Unofficially, though, I could definitely help make that happen.”

“Official?” Raan gave it his best innocent look. “Nothing to do with us, honestly. He’s got form, after all…” He grinned, knowing full well he’d step in before RJ got himself in too much trouble. And he figured Keith would as well. 

The lift deposited them at the docking level, and he looked along the corridor. It wasn’t far to the Manticore’s berth. 

“Come on, big guy,” he said, settling Dayne’s arm more firmly over his shoulder. “Let’s get you settled. You still good?” he asked Keith, realizing that they were definitely cutting into his off-duty time.

“Oh, I’m in this now,” Keith said, laughing as he adjusted Dayne’s arm on his shoulders. “Let’s get him bunked down.” 

It didn’t take them long to get him aboard, but they did get a fair few odd looks as they half-carried, half-dragged the engineer through the corridors and found his quarters. 

“In you go,” Raan said, dropping him on the bed and taking the time to remove his boots, setting them down where Dayne would reach them if the red alert went off. 

He chuckled as the engineer promptly turned over and started to snore. “And that,” he told Keith as they left. “Is why he’s not married. One of the reasons, anyway.” 

“The snoring, or the caffeine induced insomnia?” Keith asked with a wry grin. “Ladies are just lining up for that?” He asked as he fell into step with his fellow Captain in the corridor. 

“Both,” Raan shook his head. “And he’s been known to wash his socks in the sink. But, that was in a trench, so I guess he gets a pass.” 

He’d automatically turned to head up to the bridge, but paused. His own quarters were on the same level. “Can I offer you a drink this time? Not llanarian brandy, this time anyway…”

Keith pondered it for a minute, then shrugged, “Sure. Drink with a friend sounds better than drink at a bar, anyway,” He replied, grinning. 

Raan returned the grin, a quick flash of white teeth, and led the way. His quarters, when they walked in, were a mess of transit boxes. 

“Apologies for the mess.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, then pushed a few boxes out of the way, clearing the area around the lounge chairs so they could sit down. “I only moved in a few days ago…” 

He didn’t need to say the rest. Taking on a new command was a huge undertaking so things like unpacking often fell by the wayside. So far he’d only managed to open one box, of books and trinkets he hadn’t had room for in the tiny spaces of the Resolute. There were some books from home and a few pictures on the shelves. 

“What can I get you?” Indicating the replicator, or the drinks cabinet next to it. Keith was off duty now, even if Raan wasn’t. 

“Ah, I’ll keep it tidy since you have to ship out soon,” Keith said with a grin, already moving toward the books. “How about a raktajino?” He asked, turning away to look over the spines of the books that had made their way out of Raan’s boxes. 

Raan tensed up a little at the pictures that were around those books. They were mostly of his family, but there were a few of Thais and his son. And one of Raan and Thais in llanarian formal dress. Ilona had had real issues with the llanarian tradition of multiple marriages, which had led to their divorce. Although, to be fair, he hadn’t explicitly told her that he was married. 

He turned his attention to the replicator. “I warn you though, it may end up with sprinkles…” 

He ordered two raktajino’s, then glared at the machine when they turned out perfect. 

“You’re in luck,” he said as he carried them over. “It seems to be behaving.”

“Damn,” Keith said with a chuckle as he took the mug. “I’ve always said what raktajino needs is a good splash of rainbow sprinkles,” He joked. “I thought I was the only person that lugged actual books around with him in Starfleet,” He said, nodding to the shelf. 

Raan’s attention was on Keith’s hands on the mug rather than the books, and he gave a small smile, refocusing. 

“Yeah, I did sense a kindred spirit when I saw the books in your office,” he admitted. “Mine are mostly political and diplomatic studies from home.” 

He ignored the group of romances at the end. They were written in llanarian cuneiform, so maybe Keith wouldn’t realise what they were. 

Keith smiled, “Yours makes you sound way smarter than I,” He admitted with a laugh. “Almost everything I’ve got is old earth pulp stuff and bad fiction,” He explained. “I love it, though.” 

“Is this llanarian?” Keith asked, pointing at one of the romance books. “It’s an amazing script.” 

Raan nodded, heat across his cheeks that he ignored. Where the hell was his bloody poise around this guy? 

“That’s like a… less formal language? Designed to be quick to scribe,” he explained. “High llanarian is more illustrative.” He frowned, trying to think if he recalled anything similar from Earth. “I’m not well versed in earth history so I don’t know if there’s a parallel.” 

“Sounds like the illuminated manuscripts from the middle ages. You had normal script, but then the more formal books had extra filigree and decoration to them. Very ornate and … almost gaudy?” Keith offered, pointing to one of the books, “May I?” 

“Of course.” Raan blew across the top of his coffee, not fancying getting a burnt lip like the first time he’d tried this stuff. “And yes, that’s it. Gold leaf and extra decorations. There was a couple of hundred years where the scribes put cats on everything for some reason.” 

He watched as Keith picked up the book, and turned it over. The cover was fairly innocuous, which was the reason he’d picked up that imprint, but as soon as he opened the book, the secondary cover inside would very clearly state what kind of book it was. 

Unfortunately, Keith did exactly that, and let out a chuckle. “I see some things are universal,” He said, giving the other man a grin.

“You found my guilty little secret,” Raan chuckled. “One of them, anyway. You did say you wanted to know.” 

Keith grinned and shook his head, “I feel like this is small potatoes on the secrets list,” He said, putting the book back on the shelf. “Had an ex girlfriend that made me read a couple of her steamy novels like that. They’re actually not bad,” He admitted with a laugh. “But if you ever tell anyone I said that, I’ll have you demoted… unofficially.”

“Oh… just unofficially, is it?” Raan couldn’t remember smiling so much. Not recently anyway. He filed the information about the steamy novels away though. “So small potatoes, huh?” He leaned back, arm spread over the back of the couch. “I’m an open book, do your worst. Ask away. But then I get to ask a question.” 

“Oh, that’s dangerous,” Keith said with a devilish grin. “I’m not shy.” 

Raan winked. “Neither am I.”

Keith laughed, “Jesus… why do I feel like I’m about to get myself in trouble?”

He walked over to the chair across from Raan and sat in it, crossing his legs and getting comfortable, “Okay, fine. Big guns. Why do you hide your past. Seems like it would help you out there to me.” He asked, bluntly. 

Raan sat for a moment, thinking not about the question, but the man asking it. Why he was asking didn’t matter, the fact that he’d asked for Raan’s trust did. 

When he answered, it was the bald truth. 

“Because I caused a war,” he said, his voice low. “I didn’t fire the first shot, but I did fire the last one. I killed a man in cold blood to end it. That’s not a past anyone wants front and center.”

Keith regarded the man for a moment, over a sip of raktajino, “Oh, there’s going to be follow ups on that one, but deals a deal. Your turn,” He said after a moment, his tone was still light and easy, no change in body language. That was a hell of an answer, but he’d told the man he could trust him. He wasn’t about to react in a way that could make it seem like he couldn’t. 

Raan considered his own drink for a moment, then looked up. He needed something light, after his own confession. “Okay. You said RJ’s not your type. What is?” 

Keith laughed, “I don’t know, to be honest. I never thought I had a type,” He admitted. “I like interesting people. Generally women, but that’s not to say there wouldn’t be a man that could catch my interest,” He said with a shrug. “RJ just tries too hard,” He said with a laugh. “Like an overactive puppy in need of a squirt bottle.” 

Raan almost snorted his coffee and sat forward quickly so he didn’t inadvertently spill any on himself. “Yeah, he is. Maybe he’ll grow up someday. And interesting people is a good type to have. I made that mistake with my ex-wife. Pretty to look at, dull as dishwater on a personal level,” he admitted with a grimace. “Or at the least, we didn’t have enough in common to have a decent conversation.” 

Keith chuckled at that, “That’s a key,” He said, nodding. “I dated a woman for a few months. Beautiful, really sweet. Really liked spending time with her but… it got so dull. We wound up parting ways and she got with a buddy of mine, and they were locked in from day one. She was the most interesting person in the world,” He said. 

Abruptly, Keith sat up for a second and made a face, reaching around and putting his hand at the small of his back.

Raan stilled. “You okay?” he asked, reaching out and putting his mug down on the side table. Guilt hit him hard and fast. Dayne was an utter lump, he should have just slung him over a shoulder. 

“Yeah,” Keith said with a bit of a grunt, setting his own mug down and standing up and stretching some, “Sorry… I was in a pretty bad accident at the academy. Almost ended my career,” He explained. “Well… almost ended my life, if I’m honest,” He said, with a wry chuckle. “But I’ve got a neural amplifier in my spine to keep me running and sometimes it gets a little… weird,” He said. After a moment, the tension in his body seemed to subside and he bend from side to side a bit and smiled at Raan, “Okay… I’m good, yeah. Sorry about that,” He said. 

Raan shook his head. “No apologies necessary. Sounds gnarly. Glad you came through it though.” He’d said academy, so it was more than likely not combat based. “Does it kick off like that a lot?”

“No, not very. Usually it’s fine, but I’ve been lugging furniture and boxes all week settling in here,” He said, then nodded out the door with a laugh, “And a fridge. I think I just over did it. Slept on the couch last night too, so… All my damn fault,” He admitted with a laugh as he took a seat. 

“Highly advise having a pulse grenade go off ten feet behind you,” He added as he picked his coffee back up.

Raan’s eyes widened. “Hells… ten feet? You’re lucky to be alive.” Leaning back, he pulled his uniform jacket and undershirt free, displaying a deep scar running across his stomach and up over his ribcage. “Got caught in an ambush. I’d say I walked into a door, but it was flying through the air at the time.”

Keith nodded, “Yeah. I very nearly wasn’t,” He said, taking off his duty jacket and pulling up his undershirt to show the nasty burns and scars around his torso, “Dermal regenerator did an amazing job, believe it or not. I’ve got holos somewhere of it right after. This is pretty compared to how it was,” 

Raan wasn’t bothered by scars but he knew some people were so his expression remained level. From the scarring there, he could tell Keith wasn’t lying. He was very lucky to be here. “If they bother you, I have some ointment from home that helps ease them. Stops scars adhering,” he offered. 

“I might just take you up on that,” Keith said with an appreciative nod. “Doesn’t bug me all the time, but dammit when it does,” He said, pulling his shirt back down. “By the way, you absolutely have to tell RJ that you got me in your quarters with my shirt off,” He said, a devious grin creeping across his face. 

“Oh, I will.” Raan chuckled wickedly. “He’ll have kittens over it. Oh, I should warn you, he has a fairly unique distraction technique.” 

“What could it possibly be?” Keith replied. “Running naked through a room yelling ‘look at me!’ over and over?” 

“Gods, I’m never suggesting that to him. He probably would.” He laughed. “No. He thought I was about to beat him to a pulp, so he kissed me.” 

“And why did he think you were going to be beat him to a pulp?” Keith asked, then raised a hand to pause, “It’s not that I don’t think there’d be a valid reason to beat him to a pulp, I’m just asking what it was in this case?” He clarified with a smirk. 

Raan linked his hands over his stomach, comfortable in the chair. “He slept with my ex-wife. Thought I didn’t know. Was fun watching him freak out for a while. Then I confronted him in sickbay over it and yeah… never had anyone get out of a fight that way before.” 

“Was she your ex at the time?” Keith asked. 

“Yeah. We were separated at the time. Divorce only just went through,” he admitted. “But we were done a long time ago.” 

“I’d have let him sweat too,” Keith replied with a laugh. “But a kiss… that’s a different way to get out of a fight,” He said, laughing. 

Raan shook his head. “I know, I couldn’t believe it myself. I mean, I’m not the most approachable guy, especially when I’m being an asshole. And believe me, I was being an asshole.” 

Keith laughed, “I don’t know if RJ is brave, or incredibly stupid… or both?”

“I’m going with both. In equal measures.” Raan shook his head. “Which is why I took him on for the Squadron. He’s a bloody idiot, and you have to watch him… but at heart, he is actually a good guy.” 

Keith nodded, “Chief Ops on the Asger was like that. He was cantankerous, got us into all sorts of trouble, but he worked harder than anyone on that ship and got us out of the trouble every damn time. Sometimes you get crew that give as many hits as they take, but they make up for it in other ways,” He said, nodding. 

“That’s it, exactly,” he agreed. “RJ was being railroaded over a bad decision, but he didn’t deserve it. And on Arriana, he really came through. So I figured, give him a little leeway, see what he’s capable of.” 

He paused and looked directly at Keith. “I’m just giving you all the keys to the castle here, and I’m not even drunk. Did you train as an interrogator or something?”

“Nah, I’m just nice,” Keith replied with a laugh. “It’s all safe with me, Raan. Far as I’m concerned, anything you tell me just me and you stays just me and you,” He replied. 

“Thank you. And likewise.” He tilted his head. “I’m a good listener, if you need it. Although you look entirely too clean cut to have too many skeletons in your closet.”

Keith chuckled, “I’ll admit, I really don’t have many. But I know enough to understand that if you’ve got ‘em, you usually don’t want ‘em,” He replied, giving Raan an understanding smile. “Life isn’t fair, and it doesn’t pull punches. It’s hard to get through it without making mistakes. I’ve been pretty lucky so far,” He said. 

“Oh, it certainly doesn’t,” Raan said with a sigh. “I’ve made more than a few.” And he was really hoping trusting Keith wasn’t going to be one of them. 

“As long as you own ‘em, and learn from ‘em, you’re good to go,” Keith said with a nod. “I don’t judge folks on where they’ve been, I judge them on where they are. And you seem like someone I can trust and work with,” He said. “I appreciate your candor, Raan. Truly. I know it’s not easy to open up about stuff like that, and I appreciate that you did. None of it will go past me, you have my word.” 

“Thank you.” Raan stood. “Although, much as I’d like to carry this on, I’m going to have to kick you out. Unless you plan on coming out on patrol with us.”

Keith laughed and took one last long sip of his drink before setting it back down and standing up, “Nope, I’m getting mighty comfy on this big ole space station,” He said, offering the other man a hand to shake. “Good to get to know you, Captain. Looking forward to talking more in the future,” He said.

“Likewise,” he replied, taking Keith’s hand. He had a firm grip, even for a human. “And it’s Raan,” he added firmly. “And I certainly hope so. As I recall you wanted to try llanarian brandy…”

“Live dangerously, right?” Keith replied with a smile. “Be safe out there, Raan!” 

Oh, he had no idea… Raan chuckled and swept an arm to let Keith precede him to the door. “Always, and I’ll do my best. It’s a short patrol,” he added. Even though the Manticore could spend longer out there, the Resolute couldn’t. “We’ll be back before you know it.”