Emerging from the turbo lift at the back of Hathaway’s bridge, the ship’s executive officer crept towards the command chair in the centre of the room, currently occupied by her Bajoran kin wearing the yellow of Starfleet’s operations division. In any other circumstances, an officer being asleep on watch would have been an offence worthy of significant punishment, but with the ship having been docked at Starbase Bravo for a significant period, it wasn’t like anything of interest was happening. The ship certainly wasn’t going to leave without its captain, and with Kauhn on the station still, Noli would forgive her colleague… once she had had a little fun, anyway.

Reaching out to the arm of the command chair, Noli twitched for a split second as the prone figure threatened to stir, but once she was content her fellow officer wasn’t about to wake, she took the opportunity to strike. As fingertip made contact with the control panel on the arms chair, the red alert klaxon rang out across the bridge causing the chair’s occupant to wake with a start.

Heart racing, breath caught in her throat and her limbs flailing uncontrollably, Peri Anya (or Lt. Commander Peri to her colleagues) almost fell from the chair. Only a last-minute grasp of the cushioned arms on either side stopped her from sliding to the floor in a lifeless heap. An unrepeatable expletive left her lips, one that would have caused an Orion brute to blush. It was only when she saw her Bajoran brethren practically doubled over in fits of laughter that she knew what had happened.

Pushing herself to her feet, Peri tugged on her uniform jacket, smoothed out the crumples and lifted her hands to her hair to restore the pristine slick and pony that she was known for. Her face had soured and she scowled at her friend. “For a senior officer, you are such a child…” the tactical chief scolded the XO, pushing past her and making her way to the tactical station on the forward port bulkhead.

“Well!” Noli spat out between deep breaths while trying to compose herself. “Serves you right for falling asleep on the job. Imagine if I’d been the Captain, or worse,” her eyes widened at the thought of the Squadron Commander coming aboard for an inspection and finding one of the squadron’s most senior officers asleep on the job. Giarvar she could placate, but she’d had no such luck with Nazir, not even as her own XO for a short while.

“Yeah, yeah, point made…” Peri waved off the XO’s concern with a degree of nonchalance, but deep down she was chastising herself for being so stupid. “It’s just… well, you know!” She spun on her chair to look back at Noli.

“Yeah, I get it. Being stuck on the night shift can be dull at the best of times, but when we’re sat in dock it is even worse,” Noli nodded along and could commiserate with her friend for she, just like Peri, hated being in dock. Thankfully, her new role as permanent XO afforded her the right to make sure she never saw a night shift again. Peri, however, was not so lucky. “But you know, like I do, part of your being offered this job was that you had to log some more bridge hours. Starbases are very different to starships.”

Ugh. She hated it when Noli had a point. As part of her first posting as a command-level officer, she had been required to log nearly fifty hours of command time on the bridge, but with the ship in starbase that was proving… frustrating.

“I just wish we’d be out there, among the stars once again,” she sighed wistfully, looking at the viewscreen. Where there were once stars streaking by, starbase bulkheads kept them enclosed from the excitement of space.

A shrill beeping from Ops drew their attention, and Noli took a few steps towards the unmanned station. “You may get your wish,” she frowned, looking at the console readout before jerking her head and gesturing for Peri to join her.

Once the darker-haired Bajoran reviewed the data, the two stood bolt-upright and looked at each other.

“I’ll find the Captain, you raise the flagship,” Noli directed her counterpart, “Nazir will want to see this…”

Two Months Later…

A proverbial pin drop could be heard in Hathaway’s observation lounge, Captain Romaes sitting in absolute silence and glaring at the door directly ahead of him. A lot had happened in the last 60 days, especially for him. He’d transitioned from his role as commander of Task Force 17 and had assumed command of Hathaway, much to the chagrin of her former commander. Fleet Captain Nazir, rightly rewarded for her exploits during the Deneb crisis, had been promoted to lead a squadron of fine starships, but her reward had come with a heavy price. To progress and return to the field, she’d had to give up command of Hathaway and take the reigns of the Excelsior II-class USS Lakota, leaving her ship at the mercy of the yard engineers until a new commanding officer had been found. It had been a tough choice, one the Trill had tried her best to object to, but in truth, Starfleet had left her little option. They wanted her in the field, they needed her in the field. They couldn’t afford for her, or her experienced command team, to be sat on the sidelines until whatever point Hathaway’s repairs had been completed.

A month later, and Romaes had been lucky enough to return from his shore leave in time to assume command of the mighty Hathaway. Naturally, he’d checked in with his colleague and friend, who had given her her blessing for him to take over, but he had always sensed her reluctance to hand over the seat of power aboard her pride and joy. Until now, he’d almost been able to push that to the back of his mind, but as he sat there, waiting, he could feel every nerve in his body firing. Today was the first time he’d seen Nazir in person since she had left the ship, and it was the first time she’d been back aboard since she left.

When the polite cough of an individual awaiting admittance to the lounge arrived, the Captain was confused to see a woman in operations yellow with two silver rank pips on her collar. Grey-skinned with long, black hair, the woman’s most distinguishable features were her Cardassian cranial bones… and Bajoran nose ridges. That was not something you saw every day, even in an organisation as diverse as Starfleet. Bajoran-Cardassian hybrids were incredibly rare, so rare the only ones he knew were war orphans. They had been shunned by his people back then, but over time they had grown to be accepted, even welcomed into the Bajoran culture and faith. Unlike in the Union.

“Am I disturbing you, Captain?” The young woman asked, taking a step into the lounge and standing beside the long table.

“Not at all Lieutenant,” he smiled, offering the younger woman a seat. “I’m confused, though. I was expecting Captain Nazir,” he said, watching as the half-Bajoran, half-Cardassian took the offered seat.

“Captain Nazir sends her regards sir… and her apologies. The squadron has been ordered to mobilise and she is busy making preparations,” the Lieutenant advised, sliding a data PADD across the table towards the elder Bajoran. “My name is Prida Rala, and I was Captain Nazir’s chief engineer until, well… now I guess.”

Romaes looked more than a little confused as he took the data PADD and read its contents: a set of orders for the Lieutenant to join his crew, at least temporarily. Looking up at her, the Captain smiled. “And Keziah is sure she can spare you for the next few months?” He asked of the engineer.

“Lakota Squadron is lucky to have an abundance of talent across the unit, but when the Captain found out that you needed an engineer, she knew as well as I did that there is no one who knows this ship’s systems as well as I do,” Prida told bluntly, sitting forward and placing the hands she clasped together tightly on the tabletop. “Respectfully, sir, you need me more than she does right now.”

“Who am I to argue with the great Keziah Nazir?” Romaes laughed, reaching to his commbadge and pressing it. “Lieutenant Ay’dar, please report to the observation lounge.”

“I’m en route, Captain,” Ay’dar promptly replied. He swiftly departed from his station on the bridge, his direct path briefly obstructed by two ensigns engrossed in running diagnostics on a panel. Displaying his signature blend of Half-Human and Half-Klingon ‘charm,’ Ay’dar emitted one of his trademark grunts, causing the ensigns to hastily step aside, clearing his way.

Upon entering the observation lounge, Ay’dar immediately discerned that Captain Romaes was not alone. Standing alongside him was a woman he identified as Lieutenant Prida, whose security clearance he had verified only a few hours earlier. Ay’dar, a man of few words, greeted them both with a resolute nod and a concise “Captain” and “Lieutenant,” adopting his customary soldierly posture as he joined them.

“Lieutenant,” Romaes smiled, “I’d like you to update the ship’s manifest and find some quarters for our guest. She’s going to be joining us for a while as our engineer,” the Bajoran instructed.

“Immediately, Captain,” Ay’dar replied with his trademark seriousness etched on his face, a demeanor he seemed to maintain consistently. He then addressed his fellow hybrid Lieutenant, “Lieutenant, please accompany me.”

Watching as the two officers departed the lounge, Romaes made a mental note to thank Nazir for the loan of her engineer. Whether the good Lieutenant would be thanking anyone at the end of her tour would be a different matter.