—- Bridge ——

Captain Nathanial Hawthorne was not happy. The Borg had made up a lot of ground as the ship had been powerless and now while they had not increased speed past the warp eight that the USS Seattle was doing, they were still only an hour or two behind. It was too close in his book, but he knew better than to push either his engines or his engineers any more than that. Lieutenant Young had basically been awake since they had begun this chase, and he was pretty sure another stint at warp nine-point-nine would kill both the engines and his people.

”We could load a shuttle full or photon torpedoes and aim it at them,” he suggested to his Bridge Crew present.

”It’s been tried,” Commander Cruz said.

”Right now the Borg seem satisfied keeping up with us, without straining to close the gap,” his Chief Security Officer Kan Th’kaotross said. The large Andorian man looking serious, “If they view us as a threat that may change.”

Lieutenant Eleanor Dorian nodded in agreement, the Strategic Operations Chief adding, “Right now they see us more like a platform transporting these transponders. If we are antagonistic they could easily catch us and…”

She made an exploding sound with her mouth, and mimed an exploding gesture with her hands to show that the Borg would finish off the USS Seattle fairly easily if they wished to. Neither woman in the Strategic Operations department had been able to give a concrete reason why the Borg had not done so yet, other than they USS Seattle was not a threat to them, or their transponders.

”Speaking of which we’re going to need to ditch those pretty soon,” he observed, tapping his commbadge he radioed his Chief Science Officer who was down in Cargo Bay 1 studying them, “What do you have Lieutenant Debub?”

The voice came through the badge, “Nothing really. We sent all the findings off to Starfleet but in isolation they’re just transponders. Maybe someone smarter than us can see something worth this trip for the Borg.”

”Alright Lieutenant, get them loaded onto a shuttle, we’ll be needing them off this ship soon,” Hawthorne ordered.

—- Sickbay —-

Lieutenant Young entered the sickbay. He nodded at Chief Medical Officer Va’Tok, who approached him, “What may I do go you Lieutenant?”

Young smiled at the Vulcan, “Is Lieutenant T’Rala here? I want to see her.”

”She is, but may I help. I am the superior medical professional,” Doctor Va’Tok observed.

”Umm, well I kissed her and, so…” Young trailed off.

”Hmm, well I do not provide that service, but I am still capable of medical tasks, however if you would prefer Doctor T’Rala she is that way,” Va’Tok said, his head inclining slightly to show well whatever it was that he was passing off as a logical conundrum instead of the amusement he so clearly felt.

Young nodded, “Thank you.”

Young made his was to the back of Sickbay where Doctor T’Rala was organizing medicines. She smiled at him as he approached.

”Va’Tok scares me sometimes,” Young said.

”Hmm, you know I heard all that at the door,“ she said gesturing to her Romulan ears, ”Which means…”

”I can still hear you Lieutenant,” Va’Tok said his voice carrying from the front of the medical area.

”Romulans and Vulcans, however we may be different, we both have good hearing,” T’Rala said.

“Do you like work on this double act together,” Young said.

”I would ask the same of you and Ensign Constable,“ T’Rala observed, “You are quite the pair of engineers.”

”Both illogical humans,” Va’Tok said replacing some PADDs.

”Is this how you two flirt,” Young asked.

”I would not flirt. Not with her at least,” Va’Tok observed.

”Well I wouldn’t flirt with you, you pedantic Vulcan,” T’Rala said.

”And you are an emotional and illogical Romulan, more aesthetically pleasing than a human perhaps, but not much else,” Va’Tok said.

”He called me aesthetically pleasing,“ T’Rala said, “it’s basically true love.”

”Only compared with a human,” Va’Tok said.

”Hey,” Young protested, “Humans are fine.”

”Yes they are simple acceptable,” Va’Tok agreed.

Young had not meant it that was but he decided to ignore whatever weird Romulan / Vulcan rivalry the two doctors had running and focus on what he had come down here for. Having decided to ignore Va’Tok, and the clear enjoyment, if such thing was possible from a Vulcan, that the situation that the human found himself in.

Young sighed, and tried to vocalize what he wanted, ignoring the Chief Medical Officer tinkering about on the other side of sickbay.

“Look T’Rala, would you go out with me,” Young said, “Like on a date.”

”What brought this on?” T’Rala asked.

”Ensign Constable blackmailed me,” Young admitted.

T’Rala shrugged, “I always thought out of the two of you she had the most sense.”

Va’Tok nodded, “That is a logical observation.”

”You’re supposed to be my friend,” Young said to Va’Tok.

”I am engaging in the human activity of taking your ribs. Doctor T’Rala is teaching me bedside manner,” Doctor Va’Tok said.

”Ribbing, not taking my ribs. Plus you’re being insulting not funny,” Young said.

Va’Tok nodded, “Then I apologize, I meant only to produce mirth and levity.”

”Just be yourself,” Young said, “I liked Vulcan Va’Tok better than this standup comedian.”

Va’Tok nodded, but almost seemed hurt by the assessment, though that should not be possible, given the Vulcan aversion to any emotion. He turned away from the other two and continued to replace PADDs with fully charged ones as the two were allowed to talk alone now.

”You made him moody,” T’Rala said, grinning.

”I didn’t mean to,” Young protested.

”I liked it,” T’Rala said, “Almost as much as when you said an Ensign forced you to date me.”

”I, that’s not what I meant. She pushed me, to get over myself,” Young protested.

The Romulan doctor studied him, “Well you do need to get over yourself.”

”So will you go on a date with me, and not just pretend to make out with me so you can drug me,” Young said.

T’Rala smiled, “That was my medical duty, I was just following orders.”

”So that’s a yes,” Young pressed.

”Okay, 19:00 hours we’ll start at the lounge,” T’Rala said.

—- Fitness Room A ——

Lieutenant Commander Th’kaotross replaced the free weight and stepped onto the treadmill. He worked out after all most all of his shifts. He did not have anything better to do, and there was a point in staying fit. The Borg was an hour away, in theory, and while he knew it was not as if he could punch the Borg away, at least it occupied his mind and allowed him to blow off steam.

Starting up the treadmill next to him was Lieutenant Eleanore Dorian she nodded and the Strategic Operations Chief started running herself. Though lighter she was likely faster than him, not burdened with so much muscle, but then she couldn’t punch the Borg away either.

”You’re quite fit, you know,” Dorian finally said, leaning over to say it, as if it were a secret.

”I am,” agreed Th’kaotross.

“It’s a double meaning. Meaning you’re fit, but also you’re fit you know,” Dorian said.

”I do not know,” Th’kaotross thought this was likely a dumb human thing. He was right.

”It means like I fancy you,” Dorian said, “it’s slang where I’m from.”

”Earth?”

“No,” Dorian said, “Ireland.“

”Is that on Earth?” Th’kaotross asked.

Nodding at the Andorian Dorian admitted that yes, Ireland was on the Earth.

“I have tried dating human women, it has not been successful,” he said.

”I don’t know why. We pull too hard on the ears?” Dorian teased.

”They are not ears,” Th’kaotross said annoyed a bit at the suggestion, though anyone in any position of influence in Starfleet let alone a Lieutenant would know that they were not ears. Hell he had visible ears on his head alongside his antennas.

”I know that,” she said.

He was silent for a long time, “Given that we are likely to die shortly, I will admit that you are also fit. In an appropriately human female way.”

“Given that we’re all going to die,” Dorian said, nodding at the exit door.

”Agreed,” Th’kaotross said stopping his treadmill.

—- Captain’s Quarters —-

“Why don’t you just move in here?” Hawthorne asked.

Adriana Cruz stretched and looked out the window, “My cabin has a better view. Besides we’re not married, I need my own space.”

”We could,” Hawthorne suggested.

Cruz shook her head emphatically, “I’m not marrying you. We’re just, ports in a storm.”

”We can’t both be ports in a storm,” Hawthorne observed lying on his bed In his underclothes.

Cruz shook her head, “You know what I mean. I’ll be a Captain one day, and have my own ship, not on yours. Then we’ll go our own way.”

Hawthorne nodded. That did sound like the most rational reason, and the most likely outcome of all of this. He knew that Cruz was too good to be true. Much younger and clearly highly valued by Starfleet, she was why they’d gotten the USS Seattle when the USS Anaheim had been broken and forced into repair. Though he had not confirmation of that fact, he strongly suspected it.

”I don’t think I can do someone, after you. I mean date, not in the dirty way. It’s just, you don’t meet a lot of people as a Captain and I can’t date my next First Officer, that’s a pattern,” he said.

”You know saying things like you’ll never date again makes you sound old and desperate,” Cruz said.

”Old and desperate for you maybe,” Hawthorne laughed, throwing a pillow at her.

Climbing on the bed Cruz kissed him, “Look, marriage isn’t on deck, but I still care for you. I love you Nathan.”

”Love?” he asked, and she realized that she’d slipped up.

”Well, what I meant was,” Cruz began.

”Shhh, I love you too,” he said and kissed her back.