—- Dockyards, Starbase 72 —-

Chief Engineer James Young looked concerned. This was his permanent expression, at least as Captain Adriana Cruz could tell, so it was not that surprising. The Rhode Island-class USS Seattle was docked next to the Challenger-class USS Obama and work was about to begin dealing with the damage that their fight with a Cardassian Galor ship had wrought. Cruz had not come up with any nifty way of defeating the Cardassians, just speeding around getting the crud kicked out of them until help arrived which had finally happened in the form of rival Cardassians. Like Romulans it was hard to tell which Cardassians were friendly, and which were not. Like Romulans maybe friendly wasn’t the right word, but less angry.

”We have phaser marks along the outside of our hull,” he said.

”Makes us look tough,” Cruz said, not seriously. 

“I prefer when we’re not shot to Hell,” Young said.

”You can fix it Young, you and the station crew will have us running in no time,” she said confidently. They had not been meaning to make a stop back at Starbase 72 but between changing First Officers, the ship getting walloped and her girlfriend Captain Shraa being courtmartialed Cruz had figured it was as good a time as any to dock and recharge.

Young seemed less convinced, but he liked having the help from station staff to go over the ship and confirm that it was in working order. He nodded, “I’ll work around the clock.”

”Take breaks, enjoy the station, you and Doctor T’Rala still seeing each other,” Cruz asked.

”You mean is she still kidnapping me and making her take her for something called sushi? Yes,” he confirmed.

”Surely you know what sushi is, it’s from Earth,” Cruz said, ”It’s good. Now I want a California roll. Sunomono salad.”

”It’s raw fish right?” he asked.

”It has some raw fish but it would be an oversimplification to explain it that way,” Cruz said.

Young fell silent, likely contemplating the USS Seattle’s state of disrepair and having forgotten about sushi for now. Cruz watched as shuttles buzzed by it and then realizing that Young was lost to his own thoughts made her way towards the main concourse of the station.

There she found Commodore Jalian waiting for her, the Saurian female in surprisingly good spirits, “Do you want command of the USS Obama?”

Cruz shook her head, “I think I’d go crazy chaperoning VIPs all the time.”

”Well we have enough for that already,” Jalian said, “You and Shraa are close.”

”We attended the Academy together and we are close,” Cruz confirmed, though not the details.

”Did she ever tell you why she uses her first name? It is not Andorian tradition,” Jalian asked.

”I don’t know, no, it always seemed like I should ask but it was impolite to,” Cruz said.

”Well I contacted Andoria, to see if they would send legal representation. It turns out that she’s avoiding a ushaan, a ritualistic fight,” Jalian said, “She was young, before she was in the Academy, and she has been disowned by her family. So not only has she no legal representation but the Andorians are sending a team to arrest her.”

”So no legal representation,” Cruz said.

”And if she does make it out of her court martial, she’ll be arrested by the Andorians,” Jalian added.

“I submitted my selection for a First Officer,” Cruz said.

”I saw Commander L’Vail, however she is assuming command of the Obama as of tomorrow, so you have to pick someone else,” Jalian said, “But I’d have picked her too, she was good. Which is why I made her a Captain.”

”Aren’t you giving up on Shraa a bit easily?” Cruz asked.

”She hit an ambassador in Federation space for the crime of asking for more caviar,” the Commodore said, “She does not contest that. It’s my job to keep ships going, not to keep Captains going. If she beats this and deals with the Andorian thing I’ll find her a new ship.”

Cruz was quiet, “I should go see her.”

”She could use friends, a court martial is never easy,” Jalian said nodding in approval. She liked to see Captains supporting each other, particularly old friends from Starfleet Academy.

—- Holding Cells —-

Captain Cruz was shown very little deference when she was taken to Captain Shraa’s cell. The Bajoran guard seemed bored by his duty, and did not particularly seem to care that he was shepherding one captain to see another. When he left Cruz watched him go.

”You punched an ambassador,” Cruz said in disbelief more than anything else. Sure there had been some stuffed shirts that she had thought about taking a swing at, but never actually hit. 

From the other side of the force field Shraa shrugged.

”The Bolian deserved it, you think they’re all cheerful and sweet but he was a real piece of work,” Shraa said.

”And the ushaan you’re avoiding? I don’t even know what that is,” Cruz said.

”Just a battle I need to do. To the death,” Shraa said, “I’ve been hiding from it since I was eighteen it seems to have caught up to me.”

Cruz sighed, “Okay, we’ll deal with that bridge when we get to it. Now I just dealt with a possessed Chief Counselor, any chance you were possessed or acting under the influence of a space energy or anything?”

”Nope, I take responsibility, I hit him,” Shraa said, “You’d have hit him too.”

“But I didn’t babe, you need a lawyer, who’s your lawyer?” Cruz asked.

”My First Officer is a lawyer, he’s handling the case,” Shraa said, “But he’s pretty sure I’m doing to get convicted.”

”Let me talk to him,” Cruz said. Not sure it was going to help much.

— USS Obama —- 

The First Officer was a Vulcan and he seemed pretty confident that his captain was guilty. He informed Cruz that he had seen the Andorian strike the ambassador three times, and was not sure if there was a legal case to be made to get her off. It seemed, according to him, an open or shut case against his client and now former captain.

”And her ushaan?” Cruz asked.

”I deal with Federation and Starfleet. Andorian law is entirely separate like many less logical species their ways make no sense to me. I understand the ushaan has many ways out of it, such as married Andorians who have not yet procreated can indefinitely get out of it,” he said, “but the Captain is not married. You need to find her an expert in Andorian law for that.”

”Thank you that’s been more helpful that you know,” Cruz said.

—- Swingers Baseball Themed Nightclub —-

Thomas Winfield was not sure why a baseball themed nightclub was a thing, but it had good wings. It was nice to get out with Akane Sone and to bring our Lieutenants Junior Grade Hume and Flores. Food and drink not out of a replicator was good, even bad food was better than fake food, if not nutritiously. Plus dancing was a plus. That they played Cardassian techno was an added bonus, and there were some Cardassian civilians too, despite the Earth centric theme of the club.

Lieutenant Akane Sone spun away from him, looking nice in her dress she’d worn to go out for their first night on the station. The lower deckers liked serving on the USS Seattle, but life on the station was more diverse and vibrant. For Winfield who’d grown up on stations, this was better than anything. For the others, it was still great through planets might be a bit better.

“You doing okay after your ex put the whammy on you?” Rosa Flores asked her boss, the Assistant Chief Security Officer William Hume. They both shared a rank though so other than she’d transferred in later than him they were roughly even.

”Yeah, it was something. I just lost myself there,” Hume said.

”Sorry I had to stun you with a phaser when you were going for the Captain in her ready room,” Flores said.

”Yeah, well I probably deserved it,” Hume admitted.

”You doing to agree with everything I say tonight?” Flores asked.

”Probably, I’m just glad to be myself again, and sorry for what I did,” Hume said.

Flores nodded, “Even cheating on your girlfriend?”

”Yeah, especially that,” Hume said sheepishly.

Flores smiled, “I can’t say I approve of you trying to brainwash the Captain, but keep to that. No more cheating okay.”

”Okay,” Hume nodded.

Flores smiled, and twirled away from him then bent her finger gesturing for him to join her on the dance floor.

Winfield received a plate of chicken wings in buffalo sauce from the waiter, and saw Lieutenant Yuhiro Kolem approach. She looked nervous.

”Hume about?” Kolem asked.

Winfield shrugged, and Sone answered, “He’s on the dance floor with Flores.”

As a unit they all saw Hume kissing Flores, both security officers seemed to be enjoying it. 

“Oh I umm,” Kolem said.

”Sorry, I was rooting for you two,” Winfield said.

”No, it’s okay. I made my choice clear to him I just wanted to say I was sorry for you know the whole alien god cult thing,” Kolem said, “I should go.”

”You’re too good for him anyway,” Winfield said, “You’ll find someone. You’re the emotionally healthiest one of us all.”

”Well, that’s not saying much,” Kolem joked.

”Ouch,” Sone said grinning, “Good night Yuhiro.”

”Good night Akane,” Kolem nodded to her, leaving the club.