The pre-party mood was good in the shuttle bay as the crew had started to arrive. The soft sound of an Andorian romance song being sung by one of the fly girls had filled the area which was now packed with the senior staff and enlisted personnel.

Outside, standing beside the side entrance were Rita and Thex. The Andorian engineer had changed into the light blue dress that she and her mate had both chosen. She felt nervous as she waited for the appropriate time. Why she didn't know- after all, she'd been naked with her mate in the shower less than an hour ago. Looking over at her human friend she gave a weak smile. "Think I can do this, Rita?"

Offering a warm smile. Rita Paris took the delicate cerulean hands in her own. “Yes, Thex. I know for a fact that you can do this, and that it’s going to go great. Then you and she will be wed under the stars, and start the beginning of the greatest adventure of all. I should have done it years ago, but… I thought we had time. Being separated from him taught me how much I needed him, and I wanted the universe to know he’s the one for me. And she’s one of the ones for you, so here we are. You are going to be great, you look beautiful and you can SO do this,” Rita pep-talked like a champ, and this was definitely a moment for it.

Walking around inside, mingling with the crew, Mnhei'sahe Dox and Mona Gonadie were arm-in-arm in similar blue dresses with white trim. Mona was far better at mingling than the introverted Dox, but among friends and family, she was a bit more comfortable.

On the other side entrance, Tathaa breathed in as she waited for her time to go in. " Thank you for doing this Asa. " She said looking at the El-Aurian who was waiting with her.

“It is truly my honor,” said Doctor Dael, still wearing the blue suit with white shirt, and they had placed a small blue flower tucked behind one ear. Improbably, they were also wearing flip flops with silver-white sequins on the straps.

“You holding up ok? Any last minute jitters? Fear of public speaking?” Asa inquired of Tathaa in a soft voice, pitched so only she could hear.

" I'm good. Just want to get it started. It's the wait that worrying." The blind girl replied.

“Waiting does suck. It’s going to be ok, though, and then you can party-hardy, right?” Asa cooed softly, reaching up to gently run a hand along Tathaa’s back, hoping to provide a calming, grounding energy.

As was his unfailing habit, Sonak arrived at the exact designated time. Arriving, he went straight to the member of the honored couple of this gathering standing beside his own bride and nodded respectfully to both of them.

''Lieutenant Commander; may I offer my congratulations on this most significant moment in both your lives. May it bring you as much fulfillment as my own union brings to Commander Paris and to myself.''

In a rare public display of affection, Rita reached over, placed her hand on her spouse’s shoulder and kissed Sonak on the cheek. “You always know just what to say, you smooth talker.”

The Vulcan just raised an eyebrow but said nothing, now well accustomed to the behavior of his wife but a bit nonplussed by her displaying this familiarity in front of the crew, Not that he really minded. But still, protocol was always prominent for him. He had yet to acquire, let alone master, the flexibility of his Human mate. But he was learning; slowly but surely.

After all, this was the perfect example of what he had just said.

"Thank you Sonak. I hope it does as well. Just want to check, but you have the Shapla I gave you, Rita? I don't want us to start and not have them. " She asked her human friend.

“Of course!” Rita produced the locket, and the small ceremonial knife which would be used for cutting the hair to be placed in the locket at the appropriate moment of the ceremony. “And I am sure Asa has the other one. I’m keeping them in hand, and hiding them with the wee bouquet here. Multipurpose!”

" Thank you Rita." The andorian said as she gave her friend a slight hug. They just needed the captain to arrive and they could get the ceremony started.

"I'm just happy for you, Thex. You are way too good a catch for someone not to come along- sweet, kind, clever, brave, honest, athletic, a great dancer and a hell of an engineer. Tathaa is the lucky one, and she'd better take good care of you." Smiling wistfully at the lovely Andorian bride, the Earth girl sighed. "Here's to the start of a wonderful life. Love of my life, please find a seat where I can easily see you, because I always cry at weddings. Seeing you right there will help shore me up emotionally."

As was his wont, the bionic Beauregard was watching (ever watching) over the gathered, enjoying the positivity which was so rare among intelligence communities.

Sam smiled, thinking of first time he'd met Thex. He'd spent much of the previous evening drinking with Rita Paris, flirting professionally, as he gathered information on his new posting aboard the Hera. She gave as good as she got, though, to his initial surprise. Upon later observation, of course, he came to the conclusion that the Bombastic Blonde would be an amazing intelligence asset for any organization. Thex was her roommate at the time, and was an impressive interference runner at breakfast, and a loyal friend.

Whenever possible, he gave a supportive grin to the brides-to -be, tipping his chapeau. He was looking forward to seeing how the quad filled out over time.

It was about that time that Enalia arrived with a bit of an entourage wearing her Starfleet dress whites. On one arm hung Hera herself, on the other, her holographic Orion wife, and around her were four of the largest, beefiest security personnel on the ship. Walking alongside Enalia's wife, Maica, was the pale, thin woman dressed all in black that only a small handful of crew member, and holographic life forms, could see. The personification of Death and the Hera's other cosmic VIP.

They were escorted to a small table in the back with two chairs and glasses of water, where Enalia helped Hera and Maica the seemingly non-existent being be seated. Then after some brief small talk, the Captain headed over to meet the rest of the guests while Maica saw to the comfort of the two at the table.

Being one of those very few that could see Death, Dox flashed a wide smile to her friend seated at the table of honor.

The spotted Captain headed towards her place at the altar to perform the ceremony, commenting to people on the way and telling them they look nice.

Leaning over to Tathaa, Asa whispered, “When do I give this to you?”” holding out the shapla from where it had been safely stored in Asa’a breast pocket.

"When the Captain says you may present us with it," the anear replied quietly back.

As the Captain's entourage arrived, Sam spotted... her. The girl in the cloak. He'd wondered if he'd imagined the lovely girl with what looked to be some Earth Asian heritage, ever since he woke up in Sickbay. If he were being honest with himself, he'd been afraid to ask anyone about her, fearing that she was some sort of trick of his apparent near-death experience. He'd been remembering bits and pieces of his time on the Mississippi, but they were hazy, like a distant daydream.

But not her. She was crystal-clear, and had been ever since he first glimpsed her sweet smile, behind Doc Asa. She'd explained that she was Death, but she surely didn't seem unfriendly.

Who was she, really?? It's not like there was any reason for Death to be attending weddings as a guest.

Or was there...?

"You look radiant, Thex. The Captain's up there at the altar, so are we ready? Time to do this?" Rita asked as the Captain performed a flourishing gesture, and the brazier atop the altar burst into a flickering blue flame.

"Time to light this candle." Thex said as she walked through the doors and to her position on the left of the altar. At the same time Tathaa did the same on the right.

Unsure of custom, Rita was reasonably certain this was where she was to wait in the wings for her cue. Somehow weddings were always complicated affairs, no matter the race or creed. But the tradition was what counted, and the happiness of the couple. It looked like Asa had their role down as well as they waited across the hall, and Rita shot them a high calibre smile.

Captain Telvan looked out over the crowd and started the speech she had memorized. "Assembled beings of the crew of the USS Hera and gathered guests. We are here today for the sacred Andorian ceremony of bonding to join Thex and Tathaa in body and spirit, to love and to cherish, until death do they part." Motioning for the two to step forward, she waited for them to reach their places before continuing.

With a smile on her face the andorian stepped forward and moved to the right of the altar. Her eyes fell on the Aenar she was now going to pledge to be with forever. Nothing could now make her happier.

Once Thex and Tathaa were in place, Enalia continued. "Are there any witnesses to confirm under the stars that the bond that these two share is true? If so, please step forward now and present the sacred Shapla."

Nodding to Asa, Rita did her best to follow the pace set by the frenetic physician, so that they would arrive at the altar around the same time.

For their part, Asa was walking as fast as dignity would allow, reaching Tathaa while smiling broadly. Drawing the Shapla from their jacket pocket, Asa said simply, "I confirm this bond is true," reached out and trimmed a small piece of Tathaa's hair, placing it gently in the shapla, and then handed it to Tathaa, closing their hand over hers briefly, squeezing them in an encouraging manner. Their task complete, Asa took a step back.

Waiting until Asa had spoken and their task was complete, Rita stepped forward with the small blade in hand. Taking hold of a curl of hair deliberately left down by maica's styling finesse, Rita sliced it off cleanly. Placing the lock of hair within the locket, the shapla, she handed it to Thex. Sure, she worried that the couple hadn't known one another very long, and this all seemed to be moving very quickly. But she had known about Sonak from nearly the second time she had laid eyes on him, so who was she to question?

"I confirm this bond is true," said the tall blonde human woman as she handed the locket to the lithe and lissome chief engineer with a smile.

Thex almost jumped as Rita handed the locket which she still gripped tightly as she faced Tathaa. " Um I had a speech written down, but it's now all just gone from my head. All i can say is... I love you Tathaa with all my heart. " Thex said as she placed the Shapla over the anear's head.

" Thex. A few months ago i never thought i could feel this way for another being. I now know what all the legendary poets meant went they described love in the ballads. I love you Thex." The anear stated as she placed the locket over the andorian.

The two reached out holding each over's hands tightly as they waited for the last words from the captain.

From the audience, Mnhei'sahe Dox had her comm badge in her hand, set to silent and set to send a message to one of the Hera's shuttles floating out in space, ready to enter the Wormhole on Dox's signal to ensure it would open at the best possible moment. The excited Romulan bit her bottom lip as the moment was clearly almost there. Hoping she had it timed right, she double tapped her badge sending the cue to her pilot.

Enalia raised her hands out to her sides to encompass the ceremony. "Then as a Starfleet captain of the USS Hera and by the power vested in me by the United Federation of Planets, I pronounce you bonded. You may now share your first kiss as one."

The two ladies from andor didn't need to be told twice as the two of them embraced in a passionate kiss. A few tears were in both of there eyes as the holo recorded flashed as the wormhole erupted behind them.

It would be a photo for the ages.

From the audience, tears erupted all around. Mnhei'sahe Dox and Mona Gonadie clutched each other's hands tighter as smiles beamed across their faces.

Unsure of the socially expected reaction, Asa began clapping, smiling hugely in happiness for their friends.

Sonak of course did not clap. His face impassive, he offered two extended fingers to his human wife.

Stepping away from the bridal couple, Rita held out her index and middle fingers in a matching gesture, and smiled lovingly at her logical mate. Turning to watch the brides, she leaned against Sonak, sighing contentedly as a tear rolled down her face. "Ah, weddings..."

'' A solemn moment for a most important life moment,'' he whispered with the utmost seriousness and conviction.

Enalia stepped back from her position so she wasn't too prominent in the pictures and clapped.

Hera and Death also clapped, both wishing for happiness for the newly bonded couple in their own way.

Thex and Tathaa held the kiss for what to them felt like an eternity before the sounds and lights of the room came flooding back. The two of them turned to face the crowd smiles on both of their faces. " Thank you, everyone, for being here and sharing this wonderful moment with us. I hope everyone will enjoy the gift of the andorian ale bottle beneath your seats. Now please, eat, drink and be merry." The andorian said still beaming from happiness as the empty food tables began to fill up with food.

Leaning over, Dox pulled the bottle from underneath her seat and looked it over with a smile, extremely happy that on a ship so often plagued by tragedy that Thex and Tathaa had found each other. The young Romulan woman rested her head on her Miradonian partner.

"This was just beautiful, wasn't it Jhu Dhael?" Dox called Mona the Romulan term for 'Angel Bird'.

Mona pulled an identical bottle out from under her seat, the same smile on her face. "It makes me want to have a similar ceremony with you, Minay," she replied, using her pet name for Dox which was the Miradonian word for 'Nightfeathers'.

"See. Ceremonies can be pretty nice." Dox pressed her cheek up against Mona's shoulder. "Look at everyone. How happy they are. After everything we've all been through, it's just wonderful to see."

On the dance floor, Rita and Sonak waltzed to a slow orchestral piece. As it ended, a bluegrass tune that the bionic chief spook Clemens had requested started playing, with a much livelier gate. Rita and Sonak stepped into it, taking the three-step waltz into high gear as they began improvising a line dance.

"It's a wedding and you brought a date. Dance, you goony birds!" Rita called from the dance floor as she do-si-doed with the stenorious stoic scientist.

The 'gooney birds' in question, Mnhei'sahe and Mona got up to join the dancing with the much more gregarious Miradonian taking the timid Romulan by the hand and pulling her along with a smile.

There was an old Earth song that Asa particularly liked, and they mouthed the words to "The Rhythm is Going to Get You" in time with the unknown song that was playing. The doctor was by no means a good dance- quite the opposite in fact- but what they lacked in skill, they made up for in enthusiasm. Asa shimmied and two stepped on the dance floor, sometimes with a partners, but just as happily without, joyously celebrating their friends union.

“Where’s Maica? Hey, you holographic hottie, get your grumpy wife out here on the dance floor!” Rita called out. While under ordinary circumstances the first officer would never call the captain something so disrespectful, this was off-duty, a casual affair which was a celebration where people were expected to celebrate. And she knew the captain preferred not to cut loose in front of the crew, but there was a time and a place. This was both. "Come on Maica, i know you can dance to beat the band, so show us whatcha got!"

Maica grinned wide as she held her hand aloft for Enalia as if she were a princess and Enalia were a prince about to sweep her off her feet at a grand ball.

"Grumpy! We'll see who's grumpy!" Enalia winked playfully as she and Maica took to the dance floor, beginning an amazingly well choreographed yet seemingly spur of the moment waltz similar to that from an old romance movie including spins and Enalia lifting Maica over her head.

Amongst the dancers, the happy couple put on a show that only two individuals with a love of dance now joined as one could do. Both were staring deep into each other's eyes with there antenna wrapped around each other tightly.

As the music slowed the two slowly peeled apart, but not before another kiss to which the two looked slightly embarrassed. " Well would anyone care for a slice of cake?" The anear asked to the crowd

Leaning slightly back from Mona while they danced closely, Dox smiled and called back with a laugh, "Cake? Yes, fat girl wants cake."

The Reconstructed Revenant Redhead, meanwhile, having congratulated the truly lovely couple, was taking the opportunity to approach the current incarnation of Death, who he'd last spotted being seated with the Captain's entourage.

If'n he could find her in the crowd...

A few of the hulking security officers in their dress uniforms moved throughout the party, passing out flutes of a glowing pale blue liquid for the toast. Eying Asa nearby, Rita wasn't sure who took the best man's toast at a wedding, but she was reasonably certain this was the time for a toast. Someone had to volunteer, so as Thex's... what was it she called it? A Witness, right.

In Earth wedding tradition style, Rita fetched a fork and held up her glass, tapping insistently at the crystal, though not hard enough to chatter it. It had the desired effect, quieting everyone and getting their attention. Aliens across the universe still responded to some earth traditions, it seemed.

"Hello! We just saw our friends Thex and Tathaa become bonded. We all witnessed it together, and it was beautiful. Now they begin their lives together, and they'll have tumultuous adventures and injuries and concerns and fights and reconciliations, and all of the wonders and curious joys and odd pains of a relationship with another person to whom you're committed. Including disagreements over how the sock drawer is to be laid out, who showers first in the morning and who gets to be the big spoon."

That drew a few chuckles from the crowd, so Rita brought it home. "When two become one, that's a fierce and unbreakable bond. It can give you strength you never realized you had, it can make you courageous past your own limits, and there is no obstacle that you will not find a way to overcome than for love. Everything we do- all the madness we face and the threats that we oppose, we do so, at its core, for those bonds we make- with our mates and with the people who matter in our lives. For there is no greater force in the universe than love. Love for our mates, love of ourselves, and love of the wonder of the cosmos, it's infinite combinations in infinite diversity. That is what drives us on in this life, and what we spread to the universe."

"Here's to the love of Thex and Tathaa. Long may it shine!" Raising her glass, she turned on the full million watt smile. "Cheers!"

The newly bounded couple raised their glasses to the toast both with a smile on there faces. " Thank you Rita that was a wonderful speech, I hope we can go a few weeks before the argument about the sock draw though," Thex responded with a cheeky smile.

Her anear lover winked at her as she picked up a knife for the cake cutting. It was in the shape of a federation comabdge though a few of the lines were slightly wonky. Cleary it had been made by someone who didn't have acess to regular sight. " You did a great job with it love." Thex said as she gripped her mates hands as they cut the first slice from the giant cake.

The stasis box delivered to Lieutenant Asa Dael’s personal quarters brought mixed feelings to the doctor’s mind. The box contained several souvenirs procured on a recent trip to Earth the doctor thought their fellow crew members would appreciate. Unfortunately, the doctor was taken off world quickly and unexpectedly and had been unable to secure the return of their property until a supply shipment was delivered to the Hera while docked as DS9.

At first Asa was simply happy to see the box arrive. They had thought the trinkets to be lost in the midst of their departure, and were pleasantly surprised when the chief petty officer had informed them of the delivery. Then, gazing upon the collection of doo dads procured prior to their kidnapping, Asa felt a pang for the happiness in those days. Although they were healing, the doctor did not smile quite as quickly these days, and frequent nightmares were still a fixture in their life. Time marches on though, and Doctor Dael was determined to keep the step and not let melancholy musings claim them.

Opening the box, Asa pulled out each item one at a time, stopping to write a small note on thick purple stationary, affixing the note to the gift, and putting it on a small rolling cart to hand deliver to people’s quarters.

The first item out- a small Baobab tree, trimmed as a Bonsai so that it would retain its small size. On the card Asa wrote,

“To Commander Paris- A piece of your almost-home world. This tree, soil, and clay pot are all made exclusively from items originating on Earth. It has never been transported- so no residual allergens for you there ? . As you travel from place to place throughout your life, it is my hope you can look at this small piece of home and know that you are never alone. The heritage of your world travels with you, and the heritage of the Earth you originated on, the memories of thousands that formed you to who you are, and the journeys through space that predated you. I am so thankful for the path that brought us together as friends. These are my favorite trees in the Universe, and you are my favorite Earth girl. Seemed like you two should be together. Love, Asa.”

Next out of the box was a small disc, roughly the size of a standard humanoid’s palm, in a liquid silver, carved intricately with the lines of a maze in the shape of a circle. As the observer looks at the puzzle, it slowly begins to morph, some lines disappearing, others twisting and turning. The overall effect was relaxing and hypnotic, and the cool weight of the metal was reassuring to the hand.
Dear Sonak, Asa began,

The only puzzle that could elude you for long is one that can never be solved. I present you with a small token of friendship in thanks for the lessons you have taught me, and in hopes this may represent mysteries we may solve together in the future. May your mind find peace as you contemplate this simple puzzle, and may you find new discoveries each day. Live long and prosper, Asa.”

The next item out of the box was one that Dael was perhaps the least sure of.

A small box, shaped like a treasure chest, appeared to be a simple catch-all for small items, until it was opened and up popped a busty female pirate, standing on a wooden peg-leg, wearing a mostly unlaced white shirt and voluminous red trousers with a black sash worn as a belt. Asa had tipped the craftsman who made the box generously to have trill spots painted on to the woman, and if viewed from a distance the peg-leg pirate was not entirely dissimilar to that of Enalia. “The Flight of the Valkyries” began to play softly behind the pop-up-pirate, and she drew a sword from a scabbard on her hip, thrusting it into the sky in a clockwork show of victory.

“I have absolutely no idea if this is too campy of not,” Asa said aloud to the empty room.

To my Captain, You honor the legacy of all those who have gone before you, and forge a new path for those that will come after. Your bravery inspires all those under your command, and we are proud to serve with you. Just…let’s try to avoid an actual peg leg, ok, ma’am? With great affection, Asa

Of course it would not be proper to get something for Enalia and not for Maica, so Asa also pulled a small, wooden flute from the box. It was a native instrument of several tribes from the African continent Asa had vacationed on, and they hoped the Captains wife would enjoy the challenge of learning a new instrument.

Dear Maica , Asa wrote, I was informed by the vendors in the market I frequented that the music from this instrument can help soothe the soul, and that the act of learning to play it perfectly is a challenge offered only to people of great compassion in their communities. They consider it a sacred act to heal another, and an act of love to learn to play. I hope this small token provides you with a way of expressing that huge heart of yours to whomever you may chose. Your fellow healer, Asa

The next item Asa was particularly proud of, it had not required any shopping, but was instead something they found as they walked along the paths of Madagascar. Towards the heart of the island Asa had discovered the “Forest of Stone”, unique to the small island on all of Earth, perhaps the quadrant. Limestone rocks had fused with local vegetation over the year, creating a wondrous dichotomy of organics and stone. A small piece of limestone had fallen from the cliff face where it rested for years, long enough for a small fern to somehow take root through the rock, using the porous nature of the rock to hold its root structure in place, creating a unique symbiosis found nowhere else in the universe.

For Malana, I found a place of wonder, where life and stone are entwined almost as beautifully as they are in you. This fern will need this rock to live all its days, and the stone receives moisture flowing through the ferns roots, keeping it malleable and preventing it from becoming brittle and shattering. It reminded me of how your strength and compassion are entwined. Your warrior side and your curiosity coexist to create a unique life that is you. May the wind be soft ever on your face, my friend. With love, Asa

Asa began to move the addressed items to the rolling cart when the gift to Sam came rolling out. Quite literally in fact. A set of six dice went tumbling to the ground, and when picked up a smoke substance could be seen swirling within them. Each dice appeared to be gunmetal gray, but when they landed the numbers on the die would glow with an amber hue. If a person were to inspect them closely they would notice a faint scent of a Cuban cigar emanating from the dice, an aroma picked up during the making of them as the owner smoked three cigars a day while working.

My dear Master Clemens, I know you make your own luck, but it might as well be a thing of beauty. The gas swirling in each of these dice can also be released by pressing the 1 and 6 at the same time and then crushing the dice. I’m told the effect is quite….intoxicating….although it is said to make anyone breathing it a bit incapacitated for a period of a few hours. Not that you would ever have any use for such a thing, I’m sure. Just…thought you would like to know. Yours in mischief, Asa

“Well if something was going to fall out, at least it was the dice and not this,” Asa remarked to themselves, pulling the next goodie out of the stasis box.

This one had caused the chief medical officer to need to take a little side trip before going to Madagascar on Earth. A large bottle of pomegranate wine, aged 50 years with a figure of a woman cradling a bulls head while the rest of the animal lay resting on the label, proclaimed itself of “Teleia Wine,” and was produced a few scant kilometers away from the first temple devoted to Hera, and honored her with her sacred fruit and animal.

My friend Hera, I know you enjoy a good vintage fresh from the ground, and I hope this wine, made in honor of you, just outside your former temple on Earth, brings refreshment to your soul as well as body. I’ve also arranged to have the pantry on the Hera stocked with some fresh grapes, olives, dates, and cheeses for the next few months at least. A year ago I would never have believed that a Goddess existed, much less that she would become my friend, but you do and you have. I so enjoy our chats, and I hope they continue for years to come. With great affection, Asa

The next purchase caused Asa to smile, thinking back to the gag gift shop they had purchased it from. Aimed mainly at children, the shop has a collection of invisible ink mysteries….the reader was to “color” in invisible ink to reveal clues, and upon reaching the end of the book make a selection as to who they thought was “the killer”. It was old tech, low tech, from another age, but something about the little books had tickled Asa’s fancy.

Dear Ila, Oh explorer of the unknown, I present to you a true mystery….why did we ever grow up? I hope you can enjoy this simple toy, and have fun with a good ol’ whodunit. It has been a pleasure to see the universe through your eyes, the excitement you have towards unraveling any question, no matter how hard, is infectious. And I’m a doctor, I know a thing or two about infection. Yours truly, Asa

Withdrawing the next item from the box, Asa chuckled a bit to themself again, questioning their sense of humor on this one, but deciding to risk it anyway.

They held an oversized black cloak, complete with headdress in the style women of Abrahamic religions used to wear and call a Burka. However, Asa had commission to have written across the front and back in scrolling, embroidered calligraphy “Can You See Me Now?” alongside an embroidered scythe.

Hello friend, Asa began, not wanting to call their friend Death, as it just felt wrong for a souvenir note, It occurs to me that the Universe is cold, so you might need a cloak to warm you. And hey, why not have the added benefit of looking like a floating cloak walking wherever you choose. Well, except that the surprise might cause a few people to have early appointments with you. But that’s the risks of fashion, yes? In truth, I hope this provides you a hug when I’m not there to give one, or at least a chuckle that once upon a time, on a world long dissolved, you met an enormous Dork who thought it would be appropriate for a Doctor and Death to be friends. I still stand by that judgement call, and I think I always will. Partner In Crime, Asa

Up next was another kitschy item, making Asa question their thought process and come to terms with the fact they are probably not very good at this whole gift giving thing. But it’s the thought that counts, right? At least that’s what humans always say…

The metal cylinder was approximately 1/6 meter long, and appeared to be smooth, sleek, and deadly. A trigger mechanism was on the side, and when pulled a sinister glowing light enveloped the cylinder. Then, as the light crested and erupted out the end opposite of the trigger mechanism, a small, pink, sugar encrusted, marshmallow bird appeared. The cylinder said “Peep” before powering down until used again.

Baroness Von Alcott Asa began writing I truly regret the tragedy that befell you on the Worldship. You lost so much that day. Not the least of which was your marshmallow replicator. Truly an item that a warrior as fierce as you should not be without. Please accept this replacement, while I understand these things called Peeps are not truly marshmallow but something very close to, it seemed fitting. If anyone tells you that you won’t get a peep out of them, well, I’m sure you will find a way to make the pun work. And what else is life about? I’m so thankful for your recovered help, and hope you don’t feel the need to strangle me over this small trinket. Trusting in your judgement, Asa

The only other high-tech item in the lot was next, a small data procured from Starfleet Holographic Research. While the program on the cube was not classified, it was not released for general use yet, and Asa had called in a few favors to gain early access. Contemplating the futility of writing something to a hologram and trying to deliver it with any stealth, Asa continued.

Hello, Doctor. It has been my pleasure working with you since I came aboard. No CMO in the fleet could ask for a truer companion. Your sense of humor, dedication to your patients, and love of knowledge make Sickbay a delightful place to work. This cube is an update to Medical Holographic Protocols to allow you to continue to grow your personality, if you so desire. It will allow you to alter your “Bedside Manner” scripting as desired, and also creates room in your code for additional knowledge in other subjects, should you chose to pursue them. This also includes knowledge of the vast majority of Starfleet Pop Culture references, to help you understand whatever reference Rita or Sam are throwing around. It is my goal to help you continue to grow as you desire, and I hope this is an aid in that endeavor. With great esteem, Asa

The jingling sound that preceded the next items out of the stasis box told what they were without Asa needing to fully look up. The beautiful blue shawl, sheer, and in shades of ice blue, navy blue, white, and silver was fringed in small bells. The matching shawl was predominantly white, but with the same shades of blue swirled throughout, also with silver bells along the edge.

Dear Thex and Tathaa Asa began, It has been a pleasure to watch the love the two of you share grow. I understand you make ‘beautiful music’ together when dancing, so I naturally thought of you when I saw this. I understand a people called the Roma on Earth used to wear such types of sashes across their waist when dancing, and would shake their hips to make the little bells ring. The look on the vendors eyes when he told me about seeing this performed live was….well, memorable. I hope you can find ways to make good memories of your own. Your clumsy friend, Asa

The next to last item in the stasis box was a large, faux-jeweled egg. It was swirled in purple, red, green, and blue with ornate gold scrollwork creating the illusion of golden water dripping down one side. The egg opened up to reveal a treasure trove of pistachio’s, almond, cashews, and peanuts. Hoping the gift was not too on the nose, Asa began to write,

Dear Mona, You have been such a kind friend, and I am so thankful to be considered part of your life. I was thinking about the fantastic eggs you had cooked for us and thought you deserved an egg that would stay pretty and still provide food. Well, at least if you put more food in. I tried a handful of these nuts at a local eatery and found them tasty. I hope you like them too. After all, what could be better than nuts from a nut to a nut? In Friendship, Asa

The final item out of the stasis box still brought a smile to Asa’s face. A humoid figure, about 1 meter tall, made of plushy material was placed on the bed. The form appeared to be a human male and was wearing a pair of embroidered overalls and shirt. His face was crying on one side, and when the doll was flipped over it was angry. A name tag on the angry side read “Punch here”, and on the crying side said, “Free Hugs”. When the little figure was hugged, punched, or even stepped on, it said in Asa’s voice “Mnhei’sahe is loved!,” or “Asa thinks you are cool!”, or the third option, “Everything is going to be ok”. A small pocket sewed into the side of the doll could be opened revealing a cache of tissues, hand cream, and three small pieces of no-melt chocolate.

Dear Mnhei’sahe Asa began writing, I was glad to see your punching dummy go, but I was worried about you coming home to empty quarters on the bad days. This little guy can take a hit without breaking your hand, or can give a hug when I’m not around to squeeze you tight. You have become like a sister to me, and I’m so glad of it. You deserve happiness, Mnhei’sahe, and I hope this brings some small measure of it. Just promise me to still come to me for the real hugs, ok? Love you, Asa.

“Well, I think that’s everything,” the doctor said, gathering gifts to put on the rolling cart. The hour was late now, and not many of the crew were around to see Doctor Dael padding through the corridors, dropping of gifts and sneaking away. When they came to the guarded doors for Death and Hera, Asa left the gift with the person standing watch, simply asking they deliver the gift when the door was next unsealed.

“Holy crap,” Asa said aloud upon reaching their quarters once more. “I’m Santa.”

Ok, so, the last mission was really short and fast, being only 11 days. But now we have a lot to recover from! We have 800+ displaced Romulans and Starfleet peeps aboard and we're taking them to DS9 for 'processing'. We're also going to be doing some side missions there. I've also heard there's going to possibly be a bonding ceremony. SO! Let's see what's on the docket over the course of our month long stay in the Bajor sector, shall we?

- Get these displaced Starfleet and Romulan peeps got!
- Asa's father is being a twatwomble and dying of something that can be cured with a magic hypo!
- Death and Taxes! What do you mean you can't escape?!
- The Tribunal gets some bad news via Baroness Sarika!
- Enalia asks a few crew for help with the Tribunal!
- Asgardian wedding planning!
- Andorian Bonding ceremony!
- Bajoran Religious Zealots Protest Hera!
- There's a wormhole! A Changeling goes home!


----------------

OOC Az: There's the docket that I have for now! What else is there that I'm missing?

OOC Az: Well, we didn't exactly meet Taxes, and we didn't do any planning for the Asgardian wedding... But there's still plenty of time for that. ^_^

It was 0500 hours when Doctor Asa Dael woke up in Recovery Suite 3. There was a moment of confusion where the lieutenant could not remember why they were not sleeping in their own quarters before remembering how operating on the ships newest passenger, Az’Prel, had lasted until late in the evening. After surgery was complete Asa was emotionally and physically drained and had crashed in the recovery room next to their sleeping patient.

Asa set about putting on a fresh uniform and splashing water on their face to wake up before peeking in at Az’Prel, still sleeping soundly in her room. Deleting the note saying Asa was next door, the doctor updated the monitor to read “Press the call button when you wake up, I will be happy to show you how to use everything here, Doctor Dael.” Turning to leave the room, Asa jumped a bit at the sight of Commander Paris dozing in a chair in the corner of the room.

After procuring a two cups of coffee, Asa went to leave the beverage for their commanding officer to find upon waking and was about to go to their office to begin reading reports and writing the plan for Az’Prel’s next surgery, another in a series. The day promised to be a challenging one, but there was no point in delaying the inevitable.

Having spent the night talking with the refugee of a doomed universe, the fulsome First Officer of the USS Hera awoke, roused herself from the chair and tried to stretch out the kinks. Finding the cup of coffee thoughtfully left behind, she suspected by the Chief medical officer, Rita took a sip, then made her way to the office of said officer to check in and greet the day.

Stepping to the door, it opened automatically, and Rita knocked on the door frame. “Knock knock, Doc. Got a moment for an update?”

Hiding a yawn behind one hand, Asa rose to greet Rita and flashed her a welcoming smile.

“Of course, Commander. Please, have a seat. Can I get you some breakfast? If memory serves you are a French Toast fan?” they said.

“Only when I am feeling svelte,” the curvaceous commander giggled. “Oatmeal with apples and cinnamon would be delightful though, if you’re replicating. Looks like you had a bit of a sleepless night… want to talk about it?” Rita asked as she stepped inside and eased herself into one of the chairs opposite the doctor’s desk.

Bringing back the oatmeal with apples and cinnamon along with a cheese omelet with a side of cantaloupe, Asa placed each dish in front of its recipient and then went to their seat and collapsed slightly.

“It’s just…I’ve never seen something like that before, you know? Like I knew in my head things like that happened, but I guess I never believed it in my heart? I don’t even know if that makes sense…. You learn about it at the Academy of course, and it’s not that I don’t know what to do, it’s just that seeing if makes it real somehow. Her skin was a maze of puncture wounds, slashing scars, whip marks, burns, and necrosis. Her organs are all suffering from a long term complete disregard of her nutritional needs, her bones and connective tissues are all damaged from holding stress positions and evidence of other crimes. She must have been in constant pain….I just don’t understand how anyone can do such a thing, ma’am. I can’t even comprehend what she has been through, and now to know that everyone you ever knew is gone? That your universe is no more? Commander, I truly marvel that you can bear that from day to day….I’m concerned that Az’Prel may have had to become so hard to endure what she did that it has made her brittle. I’m afraid that she may break.”

The doctor sagged a bit, all out of words, and began to pick at their omelet.

Stirring her oatmeal, the lost navigator took her time to formulate her reply, and when she spoke, her voice was soft and gentle. “A wise woman once told me that the reed which bends will spring back again, but the reed which breaks will never rise again. I can appreciate your concern, but I disagree.”

“I’ve spent a little time with our ward, and I can say with considerable confidence that she is far, far stronger than you are giving her credit, Doctor. I am far less concerned over her breaking because she escaped hell. I am more concerned over her feeling that she has nothing to offer our far more technologically advanced society.” Pausing to take in a heaping spoonful of oatmeal, Paris quickly chewed and swallowed. “That’s more my focus. She trusts us, which is a huge leap for her- it’s like hearing that somewhere out there in the multiverse is a Shangri-la, and taking a huge gamble, she achieved it. Now what to do with the rest of her life.”

After taking a deep drink of their coffee, Asa took a huge bite of cantaloupe before replying.

“I’m…I’m actually a bit glad to hear you say that, ma’am. I can’t think of anyone better suited to gauge Az’Prel than yourself. Of course I look forward to getting to know her better, but I understand you had a chance to speak on the way back from the wormhole, right? And maybe over the past few nights? I’m not asking you to betray any confidences, of course, please forgive me.”

“I have. Trust is a commodity with her, and while she is giving us hers, I haven’t delved into her past traumas. If that’s something you feel needs to be addressed, by all means broach the subject with her. I’ve chosen to dwell in the here and now and a brighter future in my discussions with her, and we’ve spoken a bit. I feel a bit responsible for her, after all.” Paris took another spoonful of oatmeal, realizing she needed it more than she thought as her stomach rumbled.

After a moment of thought, Asa continued, “So, finding her a place. We can do that. She’s going to need another 2-3 weeks of intensive treatment, but only another 40 hours where she needs to stay in a sterile suite. Then I recommend 2 weeks light duty until her final surgery, at which point she will need a day or two to rest up, then she will be back in prime physical condition. Where do you think her interest may lie? I’m certain there is loads we could help her learn while she rests….”

“Well, as a freedom fighter and guerilla warfare specialist she’s ideally suited as an infiltration expert,” Paris explained. “That would put her skills to good use and give her a purpose, a chance to contribute. Coming from a background such as hers I suspect sneaking around on the side of the angels might do her some good. But if she decides to go to Vulcan to see how her people have thrived, or decides to take up expressionist oil painting, I’ll support it.”

“This is the first real taste of freedom she’s had in her entire life, and she can use it as she sees fit, as far as I’m concerned. But for now, she’s happy to stay close and remain on the Hera, so we’ll acclimate her slowly. She’s been reading her way into the ship’s library acclimating herself, which I suspect will go on for a while, and while I’ve limited her clearance, I haven’t held anything back. She’s got questions she doesn’t even know to ask yet, but she is very much a survivor. I have confidence she’ll adapt well, and we'll support her while she does. The ship of lots misfits does tend to pick up strays, and I suspect this is a situation that will not be uncommon in our experience as we move forward.”

“I imagine you are correct,” Asa said with a smile. “From what I have learned of Vulcan culture, tradition is paramount, and I would posit some kind of structure in her day might help. Perhaps I should stop by at a set time each day? Commander…if I may ask….what would have helped you when you got here? I know circumstances are different, different universe and all, but they aren’t totally dissimilar. I’m sorry if the question is too personal…”

“Not at all,” the easygoing executive relied, then she chuckled. “Some compassion, a little understanding that I was a stranger in a strange land would have gone a long ways. Feeling someone cared and understood would have been huge. I’d been torn from a life that I loved, an assignment where I was valued and a man who meant the world to me. By a technology that has plagued me for much of my career. In Az’Prel’s case, she took a gamble while she was on the run from the destruction of her universe which was a hellhole, so the circumstances were a bit different. But I suspect the needs are the same. She needs to know that we care, that we understand, that she has value as a person and as someone who can make a difference.”

“I may not have done the absolute best job of orienting her to where and when she is now. But I know I did a damn sight better than the mansplaining I got when I arrived here, from a first officer who was clearly annoyed at having to waste his time with someone he pointed out he didn't trust and clearly felt held no value to the crew. I had to fight and struggle to find some way to be useful, acquaint myself with the locals and find some way to contribute. I’ll make damn sure she doesn’t have that experience.” Realizing she was projecting a bit of vehemence while recalling her own experience, Rita took a deep breath to calm down a bit. “Sorry. Still a sore spot with me, clearly.”

Asa had been listening attentively while eating and rushed to swallow the bit of omelet they were chewing on.

“I’m sorry you had that experience, ma’am,” Asa said softly, “I won’t promise you I will be perfect, no one can do that. I can, however, promise you that if I find anyone in my staff has made our new friend feel less than welcome and valued that I take such an offense very seriously. I don’t anticipate that happening though, I like to think we’ve come quite a ways in that regard. I can also promise you that I will do everything I can to make Az'Prel, yourself, and every other member of this crew feel valued, noticed, needed, and helpful.”

Taking a sip of coffee to wash down the omelet better, Asa continued, “What do you think of a trip to the holodeck with Az’Prel? After her skin is done healing in a couple of days it might benefit her to see some Vulcan, or other familiar sights, as they are now. Or perhaps there is a traditional welcoming ceremony that Lieutenant Sonak could assist us with? Something to say, for certain, we are glad you are here. I’m sure other members of the crew wouldn’t mind participating either. And if I may be so bold- it may do your heart some good to see her welcomed in a way that you deserved yourself ma’am.”

“That I’ve already handled- she knows who I am, and she knows I am here for her and she knows that she's welcome. Like I said, I was entrusted by the Prophets to care for her, so she’s my responsibility. I may not worship them, but I respect that they took in this lost refugee and held her safe until they found someone who would understand to give her a home."

"The holodeck might be a plan- the Vulcan you know is most definitely not the one that she knows, and I suspect that Sonak would make a better tour guide than I. Remember, she comes from a universe where the Terran Empire rode roughshod over the universe, subjugating rather than allying.” The well-traveled officer made a bit of a face at that. The Mirror Universe had always been a point of shame for her, having seen how humanity might have turned out had they been humancentric and given to conquest rather than reaching out with the open hand of friendship.

"So, I have some plans laid out for her future. Dealing with her past, coming to grips with it and learning to live with being a survivor- that's where she's going to need you, Doctor. The nightmares and the triggers and trying to learn to relax her hair-trigger combat skills now that she's in friendly territory for the first time." Paris spread her hands, spoon in one hand and bowl in the other, then she pointed at Doc with the spoon. "That's where Az'Prel will need help most of all from you, Doctor. You've already done a wonderful job on her body, and I understand you have a ways to go there as yet. But dealing with her past is going to be something I suspect will take a good deal longer than healing her body."

“It often does,” Asa said quietly. Tapping a finger against their lips contemplatively for a moment, Asa continued, “I recommend twice weekly sessions with both myself and Lieutenant Sonak. I have no illusions that I can help her rebuild her psychic defenses with the same skill he can, but I can provide a therapeutic environment to discuss her progress and work through trauma’s from the past. I have also read there is great value in situational rehearsing in Vulcan recovery….meaning the more Az’Prel practices common occurrences and triggers and how to react to them, the more easily she will react in the manner she wishes when a situation occurs. So, when we see her getting ‘stuck’ on something, we can help her apply logic to find a solution, then practice a few more times how it was handled. From what you have said, I have no doubt she will master far sooner than others.”

“An education program likely wouldn’t hurt either, both historical and technological. Truth be told, I still struggle with both,” Paris admitted with a slight shrug. “I just lack the time to devote to studying, as I’m a little busy with my duties. But I find facing the technology of the day daunting, so I suspect it will be quite similar for her, and discovering the differences in the timeline, when I thought I knew something and it was not so here, is always unpleasant for me. Likely she’ll need some education there, as she will have the luxury of time.”

“Excellent point, Commander, I hadn’t thought of that yet. I imagine the culture shock quite severe. If she is starting with infiltration, I will speak with Clemens and see what he recommends from a technology standpoint. Basic reviews of the planets and cultures in the Federation would probably be a good place to start also. Practicing the etiquette and traditions would be a good way for her to begin to interact with the crew too, do you think?” Asa was tapping notes into a PaDD now, jotting down salient points to remember and circle back to.

“Etiquette and traditions? I’m afraid you lost me there, Doctor,” Paris admitted.

“Oh, you know, the whole when in good company on Earth, eat with forks or chopsticks for the most part, whereas Klingons encourage you to use just hands. The traditional toast for various occasions used by most Romulans, the meaning of the Bajoran ear cuffs- stuff like that. We take it for granted, but we are from this universe. It just seemed that Az’Prel would want to know the major traditions of the cultures that make up Starfleet, and that we should start with those of the crew serving on this ship. That way she may feel less ‘other’ around them. Well, ‘feel’ is the wrong word here, but I can’t think of another. Perceive herself as part of the crew more easily?” Asa replied.

“Ah,” Paris replied, as in point of fact she herself was not from this universe, did not know Klingon etiquette was to eat with one’s hands and had no idea what the Bajoran ear cuffs signified. While the doctor might have taken it for granted, she did not. “That sounds like an excellent curriculum to include as well, Doctor. It would certainly help her to feel less alienated and likely keep her from… well, she’s logical, so she doesn’t have ‘feelings’ about anything, but it will be less readily evident that she is ‘other’ when she knows more about the local cultures and races.”

“Actually, we might be able to kill two proverbial birds with one stone, now that I think about it. There are plenty of new crew assigned to the Hera, from a variety of back grounds and cultures. It would be foolish to assume everyone knows about their ship mates culture by default, and potentially could create avoidable conflict. Why not have a cultural exchange- maybe a meal or something similar every so often- where one member of the crew could present what they treasure most about their heritage? That way others could learn about both the culture and the crew member. Who knows, maybe even make a few new friends?” Asa said, hopeful and excited to find new ways to build bridges of friendship on the Hera.

“Write up a submission for it, and I’ll submit it to the captain for approval. Seems sensible to me,” Paris nodded. “All right Doctor, I think we’ve assembled an action plan and we have plenty to move forward with in regard to acclimating out refugee. Are there any other salient points you feel that need to be addressed in regard to Miss Az'Prel, or anything else while I'm here?”

“No, ma’am. Thank you for this. I feel much more confident about my plans for her recovery now,” Asa said with an expression of gratitude. The horrors of yesterday’s revelation were not quite as fresh to the heart now, and Asa always felt better once a plan was in place.

“Outstanding Doctor, that’s good to hear.” Rising, Paris paused to finish her coffee, then addressed the ship’s surgeon once more. “Given the life she’s led and where she came from, I suspect Az’Prel will always be waiting for that other shoe to fall. But showing her consistent compassion and stability should go a very long ways toward putting her at ease and getting her acclimated to life on the Hera. Thanks for doing your part, Doc- I knew we could count on you.”

With that, the friendly first officer waved, and departed the office.

As the doctor began to type up their thoughts on a cultural exchange for the Captain they reflected on the whirlwind previous 24 hours. Az’Prel served to highlight the need for the medical staff of the Hera to remain compassionate and understanding, always seeking to understand in order to provide care. Report sent, the doctor set about making arrangements to meet with each staff member to both review their duties as well as to gauge their emotional and mental availability to continue to provide compassionate care.

After all, a doctor's work is never truly done; and to the mind of one Asa Dael, nor should it be.

The corridors of the U.S.S. Hera were empty as Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox ran through them in a panic. Empty but for the skittering sounds behind her in the darkening corridors. The lights flickered as she ran, but she knew that it was right behind her, just out of view. Behind her, echoing down the corridor towards her, a man's voice came, singing a soft acapello.

"Stars shining bright above you... Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you"..." She knew the song and remembered the voice. Anansi, the self-proclaimed God of stories. The creature that had invaded her mind months ago, revealing the lost memories that led her to the truth of her Romulan heritage. As she ran, a cold sweat began to form as the voice continued.

"Birds singing in the sycamore trees..." Suddenly, she ran face-first into something invisible. As she struggled, shimmering threads appeared in the darkness. It was a web. A massive spider's web that she was now stuck in. She felt warm breath on the back of her neck as the voice sang into her ear, softly. "Dream a little dream of me, Mnhei'sahe."

Around her waist, from behind, she felt Anansi's long, spider-like arms wrap around her as he pulled her close to him, breathing hot now on the back of her neck as she screamed.

The scream pierced the silence in the crew quarters of the U.S.S. Hera, as Dox began to flail wildly in the nest that was the bed she now shared with Ensign Mona Gonadie. Around her waist was Mona's softly feathered arms, holding her lovingly while the couple had slept. The breath on the back of her neck, that of her Miradonian love. But in that moment, Dox didn't know any of that as she screamed and flailed wildly, desperate to escape the grasp of the nightmare she still had one foot in.

"Please wake up, Minay! Please wake up!" Mona was scared that Dox's nightmare had her so deep. What could have happened to her that could cause such a dream? "I'm here for you! I've got you!"

But Dox could only hear the singing in her dream. She could only feel the grip of the dark god that once tormented her as she continued to flail.

NO!!! NOOOOOOO!!! EEEEAAAAGHH!!!! Dox screamed wildly as she wrenched out of Mona's arms and scrambled away, unaware she was in her own bed. Instead, she rolled forward falling from the bed to fall face first onto the floor with a loud smack.

"GYAAGH!" She yelled as she grabbed her face, scrambling to right herself as the impact shocked her awake. Schooching back against the wall, her eye darted around the dimmly lit room as she struggled to get her bearings.

Now crying as she grabbed her face where she fell, her nose bleeding. "M... Mona?"

"Computer! Lights!" Mona yelled out the order in a bit of a panic, freaking out more when they came on and she clearly saw the blood on her love's face. "You're bleeding!" She hopped out of bed and kneeled in front of Dox, waving one hand next to her face, her mind locked up on what to do. "You need a doctor!"

Still confused and slightly paniced, Dox pulled her hand away from her freshly re-broken nose with a wince of pain. She knitted her eyebrows as she looked at the green blood on her hands. "Hnave..." She cursed in Rihan. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't... I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry..." She was rambling in a panic, trying to calm down

The door to the room opened, Asa charging in wearing bright pink sleep shorts with an equally eye-jarring blue and yellow tank top. Their hair was managing to stick up in at least four different directions, no small feat considering how short it was, and they were holding a medical tricorder in one hand and a phaser in the other. There was the doctor’s usual away-mission “go bag” slung partway around their neck, obviously grabbed at the last possible moment.

Taking in the scene before them, Asa lowered the phaser and ran over to Mnhei’sahe’s side. Seeing the blood on her forehead, Asa was already scanning before they reached the wall and sat down facing Mnhei’sahe.

Seeing the concerned expression on Mona’s face, Asa said, “It’s going to be ok, she just hit her head, and head wounds bleed like crazy. Can you please go get a wet washcloth so we can clean her up in just a sec?”

Without waiting for a reply, Asa immediately had their tissue knitter out and was healing the wound on Mnhei’sahe’s head, looking with satisfaction as the green blood ceased flowing. The immediate crisis averted, Asa reached out and gently clasped Mnhei’sahe’s hands, moving to place a firm, calming grasp on the pulse points on the red-haired woman’s wrist.

“Mhei’sahe Dox, come back to me, ok? You are on the USS Hera, in your quarters. Mona Gonadie Is coming back into the room right now and she’s going to wash your forehead off. I’m Doctor Asa Dael, your friend, and I’m holding your wrists so I can monitor your pulse while still grounding you. You are becoming awake, aware, and in control. You have had a bad dream, but now you are remembering what you discussed with Doctor Dael in therapy and you can feel the air flowing in through your nostrils and out of your mouth. Your breathing is becoming steadier as you think about it. You can feel the cool air on your skin, the wall against your bath, the wash cloth on your forehead. You are in your body. You are in control of your body, your mind, your soul. You are not alone, you are cared for, you are loved. When you are ready, you are going to look up and talk to us, but until then, we are waiting here. No harm will come to you.” Asa said in a semi-hypnotic tone. The doctor and Mnhei’sahe had been working through some issues with both sleep and disassociation, and Asa was hoping against hope that the skills they had practiced would help with whatever crisis was occurring tonight.

Having gotten a warm, damp washcloth and returned, Mona was still a bit panicked but calming down thanks to Asa being here. Rather than say anything, she let the Doctor do their thing and offered up the washcloth when needed.

The panicked breathing had begun to slow as Mnhei'sahe calmed down and woke up. Slowly, she reoriented herself. This was her quarters. The nest she shared with Mona was there. The green and yellow curtains and new furniture was all there. Mona was there and Asa was there. And Anansi wasn't.

"I'm... I'm okay." Panic had subsided, replaced by disgust and embarrassment. "Hnave... I'm so sorry. It... It was just a nightmare. Another stupid nightmare." Dox hung her head, mumbling under her breath as she wiped away tear. "I'm so sorry. I thought I was getting... getting better."

“Recovery isn’t linear, Min, Sometimes we fall down a few times. Doesn’t mean you aren’t getting better” Asa said, scooching to the side to allow Mona access to her mate, but still holding one hand firm.

With a moment of hesitation, Dox looked up towards Mona, ashamed of her display. She wanted to reach out but was afraid that her actions might have scared the Miradonian pilot too much. "I'm... Sorry, Mona. I... need to be better... I... you shouldn't have to have seen that. It..."

"It's not your fault," Mona replied, taking her Minay's hands gently into her own and doing her best to hold it together. "I have nightmares too. It's part of who we are. These aren't disasters in our souls but cracks for someone to pour love into. I'm here for you and something like this isn't going to drive me away. You know that." As if to prove her point, she leaned in and snuggled softly, making gentle cooing and thrumming sounds, Dox's hands pressed to her bosom.

Closing her eyes, Dox slowed her breathing. She listened to the gentle thrumming from Mona as she focused on that. She felt Mona's heartbeat through her breast and pictured that heart as a red light pulsing in the darkness. She was using the meditation techniques Sonak had been teaching her but replacing the image of the pulsing flame of a Vulcan brazier with Mona's heartbeat. She began to calm down as she sunk her head onto Mona's shoulder.

After a moment, she slowly raised her head. "The dream. It was of Anansi again. It's been a while... but it felt so real. When he didn't get what he wanted from me before, he just left."

Looking directly at Asa as she talked, Dox had an almost angry look on her face. "Asa... I need to know if it was just a nightmare... or if it was real. I need to know if he's still in my head."

Smiling at the open display of love between their two friends, Asa thought for a moment.

Then, cocking their head to one side contemplatively, Asa said, "I am 99 percent certain these are nightmares, but lets be sure. If you arent sure a god is messing with you, who better to ask than another god. Or goddess as the case may be...lets visit Hera. She should be able to shed some light."

"Hera... yeah." Dox muttered slightly, exhausted physically and mentally. "That's a good idea."

The young Romulan woman held Mona just a little bit tighter. She was still scared. Still trying to hold on to what was real as her mind raced from the nightmare that had shaken her so. "I'll... I'll call first thing in the morning. I can... I can reschedule some of my morning work and see if she'll see me. It's probably just me being paranoid."

But she couldn't shake the fear in the moment. Dox was still sitting on the floor where she had been since she fell out of bed, as a tear escaped down her cheek. With Mona still cooing on her left, Dox held out a hand to Asa. "I'm sorry. I just... I need to be as not alone as possible right now."

If anyone understood that request, it was Asa. Squeezing Mnhei'sahe's hand, they directed her to lean forward, then went to sit directly behind her, drew Mnhei'sahe to lean back into the doctors chest, and ran their fingers softly ina scrunching motion across her scalp for a moment before wrapping both arms around Mnhei'sahe, stroking arms and sides in a slow, sure motion.

In that moment, being held by both her chosen life mate and her best friend, Dox felt herself calm down a little. The nightmare was past and this was reality.

With that thought, she held on just a little tighter to that reality.

-----------------

It was 0:700 hours and Mnhei'sahe Dox had not been back to sleep since the violent nightmare of the earlier evening. And in spite of Mona's best efforts to help her relax, the anxious Romulan woman simply couldn't. She had a question that few on board were qualified to answer. And on the recommendation of Doctor Asa Dael, Dox was on her way to talk to her.

While both Asa and Mona wanted to accompany her, Dox had asked to see Hera by herself. For whatever reason, she had always felt a little nervous aroud the goddess, which she knew was ridiculous. After all, she was on a first name basis with Death, so she had decided if she was going to face the fears of her nightmares, she might as well also get over her nervousness around Hera.

A few hours ago, Asa had suggested that since her was by the god Anansi, and another god might be able to determine if the nightmare was just that or a renewed psychic attack as such, Dox had called to ask to speak with the Goddess Hera in her quarters and was granted an audience. As she walked up to the door, she nodded to the two thickly built Amazonian security guards stationed outside. "Good morning, ladies."

As she had called ahead, they were expecting her and nodded their approval as the stepped slightly aside. Dox spoke to the computer as she stood in front of the door. "Computer, unseal hatch of VIP quarters. Authorization Dox, M. Lieutenant. Access code 795-X9E."

With a chirp, the computer responded. =^=What is your current weight?=^=

Sighing as she had put on a little weight, she rolled her eyes as she replied, "126 kilograms."

With another chirp, the doors unlocked and wooshed open. Irritated, as Dox stepped in, she commented to the two guards. "That goes to your graves, ladies."

As she entered, the doors slid shut as she stood waiting. "Lady Hera, it's Lieutenant Dox."

The matronly goddess looked up from her current book and studied the Romulan woman for a moment before setting her book aside and motioning to a seat near where she was sitting. "It's good to see you again. You don't look like you've slept well. Can I get you some ah... Coffee is it?"

"Actually, I would not mind a cup, thank you." Dox nodded slightly as her somewhat stiff posture relaxed slightly as she stepped over to the seat Hera gestured to. "And thank you for seeing me especially at such an early hour."

Hera shrugged on her way to the replicator. "I only sleep every few years so whenever is fine by me." She punched in an order for a pair of mugs of hot, steaming, arabic coffee and brought them back, handing one off to Dox before sitting back down. "I didn't find a roast I liked, so I programmed an old favorite from yesteryear. I hope you don't mind my selecting it for you. The Turks made it during the crusades and I've never found a brew quite like it since."

"Thank you." Dox replied, as she took the offered cup and took a sip. Her eyebrows raised as she savored the taste. "Mmmm. It's quite good, thanks."

"Thank you. I did my best to capture the elegance of the brewing method as well as the flavor." Hera savored her own mug's contents for a moment before eyeing Dox. "So tell me about this dream weaver that bothers you."

Sighing slightly, Dox took a breath before responding. "It began a few months ago, during the ships mission to the worldship. I had been using an experimental sensory helmet that enabled me to navigate us through the spatial anomaly that surrounded the worldship. However, Doctor Dael noticed a dangerous spike in my blood pressure that corresponded with the first psychic reach out to the ship that ended for me as soon as I deactivated the helmet. We logged it as a curiousity to be looked into later."

Taking another sip of coffee, Dox continued. "Shortly afterwards, I was targeted... attacked on the ship by a being that described itself as the God of Stories, Anansi. He wanted the helmet and offered to reveal memories that I'd forgotten. He told me that when I was wearing the helmet, he could see me like a beacon from something her called the astral plain. That it made me visible to him psychically."

While it was clear that Dox was beginning to become stressed recounting the tale, she pressed forward for the goddess who seemed genuinely concerned. "So, he... forced his way into my brain. He showed me what he promised to anyway, but now he was doing it to torment me into giving the helmet up. I couldn't do anything to keep him out of my mind. If not for the nanobots Doctor Dael was using on my to help me operate the helmet that eventually blocked his abilities, I don't know what would have happened. Eventually he left when I was able.to get the helmet away from him on lockdown. He left."

Taking another sip, it was clear Dox's hands were trembling as she helm her coffee cup now. "The nanobots had to be removed as they ended up causing mini-strokes trying to fight against the outside influence in my mind, but it was them that pushed him out before. They're gone now, and... and I keep seeing him at night. I keep reliving the attack in my dreams and... and I have no idea if they are just nightmares or not."

Looking directly at Hera now, Dox had a desperate look on her face. "I don't know if it was just a nightmare or if Anansi is still in here waiting for me. Asa... Asa suggested that... well... that you might be able to tell. I'm sorry to ask, but... Well... I'm sorry. I just didn't know where else to go."

Hera had listened intently, nodding and sipping her coffee along the way and letting Dox finish. "Well, I see traces of the psychic energy causing the dreams, but i think that's just from what you call... What was it... Potato? Petey... Something... Sorry, I'm still trying to learn all the current psychological standards your Federation uses."

Knitting her eyebrows slightly, Dox tried to suss out what Hera meant. "Petey? Oh, PTSD. Okay, yeah. That... That makes sense."

"Anyway, the good news is that I don't sense any other deity class energies on you and last night was definitely just a nightmare. The bad news is that your psychic barriers are letting stray energy flow like water. While you told your tale, I waltzed right into your mind to get a feel for it and felt no resistance at all. It was like I was being invited in."

The statement hit Dox like a gut punch as she felt all the air leave her. Hera had just been in her mind and she wasn't even aware if it. She put her cup down somewhat quickly to avoid dropping it outright as her face went white.

"Invited... I don't... Nouhha." Dox was muttering under her breath, going in and out of Rihan without thinking.

"So, he was right. The helmet did do something to me. Ever since then it's felt like... like..." Dox tried to center herself and think straight. "After Anansi, I let Sonak mind meld with me and I retained so much from it and I was told I'd forget it all but I didn't. Then the piece of the entity in the Holodeck... It could talk to me directly when it couldn't to Rita or Asa. No wonder it was able to merge with me so easily."

Thinking her way through the events of the last few months, pieces began falling into place. "Then Death's energy influence... Then your energy influence. You we're aiming that at Thor and the Baroness but it knocked me off of my feet. Ever since the word ship It's felt like I had a big, glowing 'welcome' sign on my head. Are you saying I basically do?"

"That's not a bad analogy," Hera replied, sipping at her coffee. "The question now is what to do about it. Do you learn to harness it and use it to your advantage or do you try to close an unclosable door?"

"Unclosable? Hnave." Dox cursed, as she flumped slightly back. "So there's nothing I can do to close my mind. What do you mean, 'harness it'? I don't understand? I mean, I'm not Vulcan, I don't have any of that... whatever."

Then Dox sat back up realizing she was letting her frustration out too much. "Sorry. It's... It's just a lot to take in. So... what can I do about it?"

"Vulcan, Romulan, Human... Where it counts it's all the same. you all have the same potential. How did you open this door in the first place? You'll need to go back to it to help build up defenses." Hera thought it over a moment. "It was some sort of helmet, right? That you used to pilot with?"

"Huh... yeah. Mona... um... Ensign Gonadie designed it to increase a pilots perception. It made it so that I not only didn't see the ship, but I could also see energy flows through space that we're otherwise invisible." Dox knitted her eyebrows as she thought. "But we still don't know how it put me on the astral plain. Plus, if I put it back on... will it... will it attract him again? Him or something worse?"

"Then the first step is to overcome that fear. The second step will be for me to ascertain how it linked you to the astral plane, of which I believe I have an idea." Hera picked up a pad of paper and a pen that was sitting on the table next to her and started drawing a diagram of a cloud mind. "This helmet expanded your perceptions in ways it was not prepared for and unlocked astral gates within you. Normally, mortals can only access seven gates but there are two divine gates that aren't linked to the mortal form and are almost impossible to open. From the description, it sounds like your eighth gate has been forced open. The Astral Dream gate."

Turning the pad around, Hera showed off the diagram of the seven zen chi spots and a cloud mind with the two zen chi gates. "You'll have to meditate and master the first seven to keep the eighth in check."

Looking at the drawing, Dox put her elbows on her knees and rested her chin on her hands. "Sonak showed me some meditation techniques, but that was largely just to help me calm myself down... clear my head. Nothing like this."

The emotionally drained young Romulan looked up at the literal Goddess as she spoke, somewhat plaintively. "What are these seven gates? What do I have to do?"

"Meditation for calming is a good start, but opening these gates is basically mental exercises to strengthen the mind and fortitude so that you're better able to handle the eighth gate's rigors. I'll need to pull up a few books to begin training... Or we could do an awakening like I did with Asa and we can go from there." Hera finished off her coffee and set both her mug and paper aside and awaited Dox's reply.

With concern now overwhelming her earlier confusion, Dox replied. "Awakening? What does that mean? And didn't that almost kill the both of you? I mean... I can't put you at risk just because of me."

The matronly goddess chuckled softly. "No, for you it would take far less energy. It took that much for Asa because they're El Aurian and a literal sponge for that sort of thing."

With her coffee empty, Dox couldn't stall with another drink. Instead she began looking around the room. Her fear was written across her face. "I'm... I won't lie to you. I'm terrified. I don't know what any of this means. I don't know what it means for me. What would you be Awakening?"

Hera leaned forward and spoke softly, trying her best to soothe and comfort her new scared friend. "I'm sorry, I should have explained this all better from the start. Thousands of years ago, your people had mental powers that were often used for attack and offensive abilities. Over the generations, they've mostly lost them, but the psionic defensive potential remains if the right forces and training is applied. What I'm offering is a way to open senses your people have let atrophy over the generations and help you hone them so that your mind isn't defenseless. I won't say it will be pleasant, because it may not be. But in the end, it will give you a measure of security from the likes of this Anansi and similar beings."

Hanging her head slightly, Dox thought for a moment. "If I don't... If I do nothing... It makes me a liability, doesn't it? To the ship and the crew. If anything can get into my mind, it means anything can get to the ship through me. To you or Rita or Asa or... Mona." Then she looked back up. "To myself."

"There's a chance I could close the gate... But now that it's been opened, just about anything could reopen it by accident." Hera left that and scooched closer so she could take Dox's hands into her own in an effort to comfort her. "Whatever you decide, I'll be here for you and help you."

The intended effect worked a little as Dox relaxed a bit. "I'm still scared. I mean... I don't know what it will mean for me beyond just a defense. And I'll have to talk to Commander Paris before I make any decisions. At least about... being awoken. And Mona. I mean, I can't not ask her what she thinks, ya' know?"

Nervously, Dox stammered a bit. "Sorry, yeah. Mona. Ensign Gonadie. Her and I are... um... together. So, I can't do this without her knowing. But... thank you. I mean, You don't have any reason to put yourself out for me. It's... I appreciate it... your help. So, thank you."

Hera smiled as kindly as she could and patted Dox's hands. "You are very welcome. You have a lot of friends that care about you and plenty of people to support you. Take your time to think this over and do some research on the seven chakras for now. When you've made a decision, please let me know, ok? I'll be here."

"Thank you. I will." Dox replied, somewhat sheepishly. "I'll... I don't... you don't have to do this for me. You didn't even have to see me today. Why are you doing this for me?"

"Because I live a life of service now and If you need help, I can do no less." Hera genuinely wanted to help, whatever the cost to herself. Since her turnaround, it pained her to see people hurting like this.

Smiling awkwardly as she often did, Dox nodded. "I appreciate your help here. Thank you. Now I just need to figure out how to take the next step. But it's good to know there's a possible option."

She sat for a second wondering what this all meant. Having her DNA repaired was a necessity. Having her ears restored was a difficult choice. Re-embracing her given Romulan name was even harder to do than that. But this would be beyond any of that. This could change who she was on a level she couldn't understand. And she would need help making this decision.

In their now shared crew quarters, Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox and Ensign Mona Gonadie were busy preparing a meal for themselves and two of their fellow crewmembers.

The night before, Dox had been awoken violently by a terrible nightmare. It was bad enough to not only wake Dox and Mona from the bed they shared, but bring their neighbor, Doctor Asa Dael running. It was the latest in a string of recurring nightmares Dox was suffering through since her psychic attack at the hands of the God Anansi months ago.

After the nightmare, Dox went to the Starships magnificent namesake, the Goddess Hera herself to ask if it was only a dream or another attack by the god of stories. Hera confirmed that it was just a dream, but also revealed that Dox's mind had been opened up on a psychic level leaving her unusually vulnerable to psychic intrusion. It was door that couldn't be closed, but there was something Hera could do, and Dox needed help deciding what path to take.

"Mona, I have never cooked Eggplant in my life. How do I know if it's done?" Dox nervously looked in the oven of their small kitchenette as they prepared a meal for themselves, Commander Rita Paris and Asa.

Mona had been looking for some more normal foods to introduce to her repertoire and she knew that most people enjoyed chicken parmesan, and she enjoyed eggplant (even though it only looked like eggs when it was very young and tasted nothing like them) so she found a recipe for eggplant parmesan and together with her Minay (Nightfeathers) she had been in the kitchen doing an impromptu cooking lesson in preparation for a small get together. "Once the edges start to curl a little, I think they should be about done. Just a few minutes past that."

The anxious young Romulan began pacing back and forth. She was off duty, wearing a pair of basic black pants and a loose fitting dark green blouse. "This is crazy. How am I supposed to explain this? What Hera told me? I barely understand it."

Mona was dressed in her normal yellow and pink chicks apron and cooking outfit. Pulling Dox into a hug, she rubbed one hand on her back and cooed softly for a moment. "It's ok. I think I understand well enough. We can get through it together, ok? One step at a time. Besides, you said that Doctor Dael got that giant book, right? They might be more helpful than you think and they're your friends. They'll be understanding and supportive, no matter what."

Sighing, Dox closed her eyes and listened to Mona's gentle cooing. The sound always helped the nervous pilot relax. "I know. Hera did this for Asa too. Awakened their people's dormant abilities. For Asa it's like some kind of... cosmic awareness. For me it would be the mental abilities Romulan's abandoned when we all decided to leave the planet. Because why would you want disciplined minds, psychic abilities and super strength when you could have pointier bangs and be the galaxies best assholes."

It was a self-effacing joke she hoped would calm her down, but Dox was still nervous. "But it would be the first step to me being able to keep things like Anansi out of my mind." But what Dox wasn't saying was what she was really afraid of. That those abilities would let Mona in as well. Every time they touched, like Sonak and Rita, they would be connected. And Dox was scared that when Mona saw into the mess that was her mind, she would lose her.

But she was trying to put those fears out of her mind. Mona was there and Dox had to at least try and believe her when she said she wasn't going anywhere. "Okay. You're right. I know they will support me. I'm just... I'm just being me and..."

Dox began sniffing the air. "Hnave! It's not burning, is it?"

Mona sniffed the air as well. "No, but that smell means it's done." She handed a pair of pot holders to Dox and stepped back so she could pull the pan out herself. "Be careful. It's hot and heavy."

"Got it." Dox took the tray over to the slight larger new dining room table Mona had gotten as a part of her extensive redecorating of their shared quarters. The room looked like a completely different space now, filled with color and life whereas Dox had it set up almost exactly as it was when it was assigned to her.

Mona set out the salads, then wrapped one arm around her love and gave her a quick kiss. "Minay, there's something I want you to know. My people, when we bond, it includes a bit of a touch telepathic link with our mate so we can share emotions and things like that. If you decide to go through with this, we may have this. I would love to have that with you, but whatever you decide, please know that I will fully support you. Ok? Now let's get the table finished. They should be here any minute."

"Are you sure you're not doing this now because you're bringing up what I'm stressing about right now. Dox laughed a little awkwardly at the coincidence. "But all kidding aside... if I go through with this, it could be more than that. I'm just... afraid you won't like what you see once you're in here." Dox pointed at her own head as she laid out the table settings.

"First off, I don't think the bond goes that far. Second off, you're not getting rid of me that easily." Mona gave her a wink as she handed Dox a couple serving spoons and set out a pitcher of sweet tea.

"There we go. I've got the plates and stuff set up. Now we just have to wait, I guess." But no sooner did Dox say so as the door chime rang. "Come in", Dox called out and the door wooshed open.

Strolling into the quarters, Rita Paris took her time, taking in the changes to the previously spartan quarters. "Well well well, a woman's touch indeed. Permission to come aboard? I brought some orange sherbert and vodka mixed together and frozen to make orange creamsickles. Or a sonic screwdriver, depending on who you ask." The fulsome first officer was clad in a snug cowlneck sweater of emerald green that covered her down to her knees, which she had complemented with some snappy grey flat ankle boots and a wide belt around her slender waist that matched the boots.

"Love what you've done with the place, you two..." Rita nodded in appreciation as she handed over the dessert shake container.

Taking the container, Dox set them in the small refrigerator Mona had set up in the kitchenette. "Oh, this is so all Mona's handiwork, Commander."

Stepped back over, she continued with a slight laugh. "My primary contribution was in voting on specific colors, which is all for the best really. Left to my own devices this room would still look like empty guest quarters."

"I'm trying to give you SOME credit, Dox. Just take it gracefully," Rita laughed musically. "Mona, loving the apron, nice touch, tailfeathers. I am glad to see that this looks more like quarters and less like TAD* barracks now." (*Temporary Assigned Duty)

Mona bounced happily, already enjoying the company. "Well, I learned from therapy early that you're supposed to make your living space look like you live there rather than you don't, so I do what I can. It gives a sense of permanence and belonging as well as safety and security."

"Hah! They told me the same things, along with lots of speeches about 'object permanence' and 'tactile memory'," Rita agreed.

Smiling, Dox was fussing with the table settings. "Hey, in my defense, I followed that advice. It just brings me more safety and security to have it look like you live here.

The rotund Romulan gestured with her head to her Miradonian partner. "Plus, I'd like a little credit for my sad shelves." She said with a laugh, referring to the two fairly small.shelves with a few framed photos and childhood mementos on them near the door.

"What can I get you to drink?" Dox stepped over to the replicator, clearly trying to keep busy.

"Coffee would be nice, if you have it. Black as the devil and sweet as a stolen kiss, if you please," Rita ordered cheerfully.

"Excellent." Dox turned towards the replicator and spoke. "Computer, one Coffee, Rita Paris blend 1, please." After a second, the beverage shimmered into existence and Dox handed it to Rita standing near the table.

Around this time Doctor Asa Dael came into Mnhei'sahe's quarters, carrying a heavenly smelling loaf of garlic bread and wearing an inquisitive look. Taking in the gathering, Asa remained in good cheer, calling to the assembly, "Yoo hoo! Bread fairy is here! Am I in the right place, because it almost looks like there is color in here!"

Of course Asa had seen the redecoration the night Mnhei'sahe's nightmare had summoned them over, but there had been larger concerns at that time, and Asa had not noticed enough to inquire about the decor.

Smiling and putting on mock sarcastic laugh, Dox walked over to take the delicious smelling bread from the playful Doctor. "Ha ha. Yes, the room has color now. Somewhere, the basic starfleet catalog is crying that we got rid of all the stock furniture."

Setting the bread down, Dox took a look whiff with a smile. "Wow, this smells amazing Asa, thanks."

“Hey, I replicate with the best of them,” Asa said with a wink.

“So, anything I can do to help?” they asked the room at large.

Responding with her typical anxious tone, Dox fidgeted slightly. "I think everything is set. I guess... I guess we can just sit down and get started."

"So what exactly are we starting, Mnhei'sahe?" Rita chimed in as she chose a seat. "Dinner, or something else, hm,?"

With an awkward half-smile, Dox pulled out Mona's seat for her first. The chairs were not standard issue and we're of a unique design with open backs that Mona and Dox had designed and had replicated to be comfortable for all involved to account for Mona's Miradonian proportions and tail feathers.

As the assemblage sat, Dox replied to Rita's question. "Dinner and a conversation that I need to have with the people whose opinions I trust the most. But definitely dinner."

As she spoke, Dox began portioning the Eggplant Parmesan to her friends. "I've been here on the Hera for almost six months now. And in that time, it seems like almost everything I thought I knew about myself has changed or been caused to be question. And it seems I'm not done with that. But I'll start at the beginning."

As they began to eat, Dox relayed to Rita Paris what had happened the night before. Of the violent nightmare that had woken her and Mona and had send Asa running. She talked about the nightmares of the god of stories, Anansi, that had plagued her for months since he attacked her on the Hera trying to get to Mona's experimental flight helmet because it had opened Dox's mind to the astral plain. Which was when the story shifted to the events of that morning, when Dox met with the Goddess Hera.

"So..." Dox continued, "I made an appointment on Asa's recommendation to talk to Hera. I had to know if these were just nightmares or if they were signs of a further attack. After all, nightmares are kind of Anansi's thing. The good news, was that Hera looked right into my mind and saw no new Devine footprints. My nightmares are just good, old fashioned PTSD."

Then Dox's tone turned more somber. "The bad news is that she did look right into my mind. She described it as effortless. As if my mind called her in." She began to fidgeting with her fork as she spoke.

"Apparently... the flight control helmet did more to me than help me fly the ship. It was designed to open my perceptions and somehow... It did that and then some. Hera... She described these seven... gates? Things everyone has that can be opened up enabling people to achieve greater mental control and stuff. I barely understand it." Dox around as she spoke.

"And apparently there's an EIGHTH gate in our minds. A gate to some astral dream plain that's never supposed to be open in mortals. That helmet blew blew mine open. And according to Hera, it can't be closed again." She looked over at Rita and Asa as she spoke, pausing to let them speak. "Only... maybe... controlled. Defended. But... currently... I have zero mental defenses."

"Hm. Weird, you'd think he'd be called the 'god of nightmares' if that was his thing. So you are going to learn some techniques to learn to shutter your mind against intrusion?" Rita directed to the point, although internally she felt a serious pang of guilt. She'd approved the project, after all, and allowed the pilot to engage the use of experimental technologies in a situation unlike one they had ever encountered. Finding out that Dox had been suffering regular nightmares was news, as well as discovering that they had taken a consult with Hera. Not that she was that upset about the consultation with the starship's namesake nearly as much as what she suspected was coming next. When facing the supernatural, checking with an expert seemed logical, but this speech was going somewhere, she was certain.

"There's probably a god of nightmares, too." Dox chuckled, mirthlessly. "But he sure seemed to like nightmares as a vehicle for forcing stories into your head."

From under the table, Dox moved her leg to touch Mona's to help her feel more calm in the moment. "Hera offered to help, yeah. She had a few options. She said that she might be able to close this... gate thing... but that anything could swing it right back open. She said she could beging helping me learn how to open my other seven gates which would enable me to guard against intrusion to the eighth one."

Taking a sip, Dox paused before giving the last bit of information. "And her other suggestion, was similar to what she did for Asa. She called it Awakening. She says she can open up those doors... unlock all the stuff that Romulans stopped using in our brains thousands of years ago. She said that because I'm not El Aurian, Awakening wouldn't be dangerous like it was for Asa... but that it would be... maybe hardest for me."

"With my mind open like this, we've already seen how it could be dangerous. The entity in the Holodeck could communicate with me directly. Death's energy affected me the hardest. Even when Hera used her power on Thor and The Baroness, It hit me hard too. Hera said that my mind is like an open door. She said it basically invited her in."

"What if the Captain's mother has a Betazoid with her during the Tribunal? I would be... projecting to her like I did with Hera." Dox slowed herself down as she was rambling. "Sorry. I just... I'm scared. I'm scared and I don't know what to do."

Mona squeezed her love's hand tightly. "It's ok, my Minay. Whatever you decide to do, we're all here with you. As for that helmet, I'm going to take another look at the tech I used in it and figure out why this happened."

Smiling awkwardly, Dox gripped Mona's hand back as she waited to hear what her friends thought.

Asa thoughtfully chewed a piece of garlic bread, unaware they had finished it and started another before coming to a conclusion.

“Min…it seems like you already know what you want to do, am I correct? Forgive me for being Doctor Dael here for a moment, but I can’t fully turn it off,” Asa said, referring to the nomenclature used among the friends to delineate between Asa the idiot on be-bopping around officers country in flip flops, and Doctor Dael- the chief medical officer and ships counselor.

“If I can reflect what I’m hearing….you are loathe to allow yourself to keep your defenses down, understandably mind, and have decided that you need to take down the Welcome sign from your brain. What you are unsure of is the methodology. You don’t mistrust Hera anymore, or else you wouldn’t have asked for her consult, but you are still unsure about having someone muck about your head in some undefinable way. Also, quite understandable. What the question really remains is do you allow Hera to do this, or do you seek out other alternatives. So, what other alternatives have you considered? Let’s pro-con this….that way we can help you come to the conclusion of what’s best for you, and I hope you know that we will support you in that decision as much as possible. Does that sound reasonable?”

Asa concluded, sitting back in their chair slightly, but still with the rapt, concentrated attention reserved for serious questions.

Smiling slightly, Dox was glad. In her heart she wanted to hear from both her friends AND her crewmates. Both perspectives were important to her in this moment for sure. "Doing nothing isn't an option. I don't know what going forward... open like this will do to me..what it will let in. I'll be second guessing every dream, every thought and feeling before too long."

"If you can find out how that helmet accessed this... astral plain... I don't know... Maybe you can find a way to block that too. At least a stop gap." Dox looked at her love sitting next to her.

"And it seems like my only other options are... Hera's suggestion. Or trying to train my mind, which I don't even know is possible." Dox felt slightly defeated as she spoke.

“Well, those are the immediate solutions, yes,” Asa replied, “But have we done any research to see if others of your heritage have had similar awakenings? It might help you know what to expect if nothing else… Don't fret too much though, Min, we'll figure it out together. If we have learned anything since coming aboard, it's that our cooperative efforts can accomplish much, right?”

“There’s my cue,” Rita spoke up, having been listening and observing, waiting for the right moment to chime in. “First, is it possible to train your mind? Well, you learned astrogation, didn’t you? Nautical terms for starships? Long division? You can train your mind and you know it, Miss Dox. As your commander, I won’t hear such defeatist talk before you have even tried- after all, if you defeat yourself before you even try, then you are the worst kind of loser, and that is NOT what I have been training you for all these months.”

“Now, as for your friend Rita, she thinks that a stopgap measure by Hera might work. But did you earn it? Do you control it? What about when Hera isn’t there to consult, what will you do?” This was a risky conversational gambit, but Rita decided to go for it. “That plan I oppose, because self-reliance is the first key. We are all stronger together, but in this case, learning how to guard your own mind will give you peace of mind, which clearly you require since you are haunted by the nightmares of one singular encounter that frankly wasn’t that traumatic, yet it terrifies you so badly that you have turned it into a recurring nightmare. Your mind is tormenting you, not the intruder you encountered once. So you need to be the one to master your own mind.”

“Of course, I say this as someone who clearly doesn’t understand stress, violation, trauma, nightmares or the building of mental defenses,” Taking a sip of water, Rita left that one on the table. Her shipmates knew a tiny fraction about her life and career, which was not a matter of record in Starfleet. But she knew, and it never failed to amaze her when her cheerful demeanor left people with the impression that her life had been lollipops and rainbows.

In spite of herself, Dox laughed just a little as her nervous energy burst out at Rita's last comment. Dox knew quite well about Rita Paris' traumas and how she continued to struggle to live with them. It was an extreme comfort to hear almost exactly what she expected from the statuesque officer.

"I think that's what scares me more than what actually happened. Just that he was up here and I couldn't stop him. That loss of control was worse than what actually happened. If I let Hera... awaken me. I'm just giving up more control. And worse, opening my mind up to things I won't know how to control myself.

Taking a sip of her sweet tea, Dox thought for a moment. "I've heard... rumors... about Romulans that learned to develop their mental abilities, but I've never seen any proof. But... if it can be done... I need to try. I need to try the right way. One step at a time."

It was Asa’s turn to laugh, “You have met Yeoman Dedjoy and Lieutenant Clemens, correct? If anyone can help you suss out the truth of rumors, it’s that pair. Why not ask them to help you dig, and when you have some tips to go off, let me look at them from a medical perspective, maybe ask Lieutenant Sonak from a psionic mastery perspective?”

There was a brief pause as Dox considered Asa's suggestion. It.was all good advice although she was concerned regarding Sonak as he was dismissive the last time she had mentioned the concept of an 'astral plain' during the Worldship mission debriefing. But nobody knew more about mastery of the exact thing she was trying to do.

"I will. I'll also, with permission, follow up with Hera. She told me she could also help me train as she seems to know the most about these... gates." At which Dox clarified. "Training... not 'awakening'. I don't even pretend to know what it all means. Chakras and stuff. But I'll take any help I can get in understanding it. Getting a handle on it."

“Uh, am I the only one who knows Vulcans and Romulans are the same species with very minor evolutionary and breeding differences?” Rita asked quizzically. “Genetics completely aside, mental exercises can be learned by anyone. I know them, and I have the psionic potential of a kumquat. A little training, a bit of determination and some discipline and you can learn them, Mnhei’sahe. Just believe in yourself and find yourself someone who understands discipline and mental exercises. Shouldn’t have to look far…” she added, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Hell, you can probably get him to teach you and Az’Prel at the same time. You’d both benefit, neither of you would be struggling alone, and everyone would benefit. Sonak did spend a good decade teaching at the Academy, after all- he has quite the drive to educate. ‘We come to serve’, as the man says.” Rita watched for how her recommendation would be received. "Seeking training from Hera isn't something I'd recommend. But it's your mind, your body, your call."

The young Romulan's face lit up at the idea. Having another pupil with her with Sonak would be a good way to alleviate some of her tension. Make it less about her so she would be less self conscious. And the less said about 'Eighth Gates' the better, she thought. "That's a great idea, Commander. Thank you."

Smiling a little awkwardly still, she looked at everyone at the table. "Thanks... I mean it."

“And please get periodic brain scans, won’t you?” Asa inquired, “I have absolutely no doubts about Lieutenant Sonak’s abilities, or your own, but there are some….foreign…..elements in play here, and unlocking your biology has been a multi-stage endeavor. Better safe than sorry, right? I would say you can refuse me, but if you do, I’ll just sneak over at night and scan you anyway.”

The tone in Asa’s voice indicated they were not entirely sure if that was a promise, a joke, or a threat. Perhaps all three.

Almost surprised, Dox quickly nodded. "Of course, absolutely. The more scanning the better, please." She had absolute faith in Asa as both a friend an Doctor. "Actually... I'd like to keep you involved every step of this if possible. Physical, emotional and metaphysical."

“Well then, you got me,” Asa said simply.

“Now remember that when I’m asking you for the ten zillionth time how you are feeling.”

"Many of my people tend to be very spiritual as well, though I have no real training or ever looked into it before. All I know is what my mother taught my siblings and I before..." Mona didn't finish that thought. Instead, she softly cooed for a moment and squeezed Dox's hand a bit tighter. "Anyway, it amounted to some meditation and figuring out who I am and how I feel about that."

Keeping her grip tight on Mona's hand, Dox knew exactly what caused the Miradonian to pause. It was a memory she had shared far more horrible than any Dox could compare it to and one she wished she could take from her.

Instead she tilted her head and talked a little softer, but not so much as to draw unwanted attention to Mona's memory. "Well, meditation is apparently going to be a part of this, so maybe you could show me sometime. We could practice together?"

"I would love that very much, Minay," the brightly plumed aviatrix replied with that special smile she reserved for her love.

Smiling a bit less awkwardly, Dox looked at Mona longingly then back her friends. "Well, I have a plan and I have all the help in the galaxy. I think the only thing that's left is those Creamscicles Rita brought. Who's ready for dessert?"

It had been an extremely long day for Mnhei'sahe Dox that began at around 04:30 hours the day before with a particularly violent nightmare. But while it was now 23:45, she couldn't sleep.

From the dim doorway of the bedroom, she leaned against the frame watching Mona Gonadie sleeping in the nest they now shared. With each long breath, the Miradonian woman let out a soft, trilling sound Dox could feel through the wall that made her smile. But she didn't want her own tossing and turning to disturb Mona so Dox got up to let her sleep.

As Dox walked quietly into the other room, she silently closed the bedroom door and walked over to the replicator to order a warm milk before sitting down on the plush, green couch as she looked out the window at the stars. But it wasn't her nightmares that kept her awake now. It's what those nightmares had revealed.

Fearing her nightmare might have been more than a simple dream, Dox consulted with the ships guest and namesake Deity, the Goddess Hera. And while Hera had confirmed that Dox's dream was just a dream, Hera revealed a different discovery. A discovery that for months now, Dox's mind had been artificially opened. What Hera called the Eighth gate that opened Dox to what she called an Astral Dream Plain. It made her mind a beacon to telepatic beings. It was a gate that now opened, could never apparently be closed.

As a result, Dox's mind was uniquely opened to psychic invasion or attack. Completely unguarded in a way that normal mental defenses meant nothing towards. Instead, the only way Dox would be able to defend herself was to learn how to open the other seven doors in her mind. And the only way to do that was to reawaken the mental powers that Romulans turned away from thousands of years ago.

Hera offered to do this for Dox with her own power. The only other way would be with extensive mental training and study that could last a lifetime and still never work. But Dox was frightened. One way or another, the red-headed Romulan was reluctant to let another God, even a friend, into her mind. But in the meantime, Dox's mind remained open. A beacon shining for beings like Hera… or the God Anansi that once tormented Dox... to be drawn to.

As she sat, staring into the sky, she was reminded to Rita Paris’ advice that she was more than capable of learning what she needed in due time with proper effort. Looking out, she could identify 7 inhabited star systems, the Vortan Cluster and the A'Naru Nebula. So, of course, it meant Rita Paris was right. Dox had memorized thousand of star charts as a young woman. By the time she was thirteen, she spoke not only her native Rihan, but Vulcan, Terran English and even Klingon. She was a pilot and a fighter and could repair a warp core or a Cloaking device in a pinch.

So now all she had to do was learn how her own mind worked. And how Romulan minds worked over four thousand years ago to close a gate that shouldn't be opened in the minds of mortals. As she thought of it, she chuckled slightly. Tomorrow she would put in a request with Sonak, the Vulcan Kolinahr master that could possibly teach her to master her own mind.

And she would begin working with Mona as well on her own Miradonian meditation techniques. After all, Mona had told her earlier that Miradonian's had been able to establish telepathic and empathic links with their bonded mates. And Mona was bonded to Dox. The idea brought a smile to Dox's face. Even more so then the prospect of protecting her mind, she considered the idea that there was one person she wanted to share her mind with.

That was a goal worth working towards. So tomorrow would be a new day and she would begin going down a new path. As she thought, looking out into space, she heard the door to the bedroom softly open.

Mona softly padded out of the bedroom and snuggled up to Dox tightly, her head resting against her lover's back as she breathed slowly and rhythmically. "You couldn't sleep?"

Leaning slightly into Mona, Dox smiled. "Yeah. It's kind of hard to get my head to stop... thinking. It's all a little overwhelming."

"Yeah, I know how that is." Mona nuzzled a bit before speaking up again. "I woke up because of the dream again and found you out of bed. Is there anything I can do to help you so you can get some rest at least?"

"You do more than I can tell you." Dox scooched on the couch more to lean towards Mona. "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you woke up. Talk to me about it."

Mona let out a shuddering breath as she clung tighter to Dox. "I was back in the cages. They were taking my three siblings away. I was the runt so they left me to grow. We all knew what this meant... I just... They did the same thing to our parents... Made us watch... Then... I had to watch my brothers and sister... They spit roast..." Mona couldn't go on, pressing her face tightly to Dox's back and shuddering.

Turning around, Dox grabbed Mona tight and pulled her in close, lightly petting the back of her head. "Shhhh..." She whispered lightly. "You're here. I've got you."

So caught up in her own issues, Dox felt slightly ashamed of herself as she tried to calm Mona. "I'm so sorry. I wish there was something I could do to take some of that pain. Hold some of it for you."

"You worry that I'll leave you if I see too deep into you, right?" Mona looked up into Dox's eyes, tears beading on the fine feathers on her face. "Maybe I see a bit of myself in you. Maybe I'm afraid you'll see too deep into me, you won't like what you find, and you'll run away. That's why you'll always have all of my love, no matter what."

Pulling the corner of her nightshirt up, Dox patted Mona's eyes. "There's nothing I could see in you that would do anything but make me love you more."

She put her hands on either side or Mona's cheeks, Dox rested her forehead against Mona's, her own eyes beginning to swell. "And... and I'm not... I'm not afraid anymore"

Putting her hand below her right breast where the Romulan heart was, Dox continued. "You already live in here..." then she moved her hand up to her own head. "And you will always be here too. And we'll fill each other's cracks so we'll be whole together, right?"

"That's right. Together, part of each other, forever," Mona replied, thrumming softly as she leaned in closer and rested her forehead against her Minay's. "Our hearts as one. Our minds as one. Our souls as one. We fill the cracks in each other and become the divine whole we were meant to be." As she spoke, a warmth spread through her and her heart felt more whole and her whole being felt more at peace.

Feeling that thrumming that felt as natural to her now as her own heart beating, Dox closed her eyes. "You told me your people could eventually create bonds... telepathically and emotionally... when they mate. I don't... I don't know if that's something I'll ever be able to do... but I want to try. Show me."

"Calm your mind, know who you are, know who I am, know that our bond is strong... And just reach out with your mind to mine. Feel my emotions and love for you and I will feel you." As she spoke, Mona massaged Dox's hands softly to help relax and soothe her.

Slowing her breathing down, Dox listened to Mona's own breaths. She could feel Mona's pulse through the Miradonian's lightly feathered hands. She tried to reach out to feel more in the darkness of her minds eye untill all she could feel was Mona's thrumming.

She pictured that thrumming as a light in that darkness, pulsing like a flame with Mona's heartbeat. At first it was a faint, deep red. Then it flared to a rich blue as Dox's eyes snapped open and she pulled her head back ever so slightly. "I... saw something. A light. I... I saw it before when you were holding me after my nightmare."

"Shhh... I felt you as well." Mona smiled and kissed at Dox's hands. "Did you feel anything else?"

"I... I don't know... I could feel a pulsing. I could... your thrumming. I could feel it like it was coming from... well... It felt like it was coming from all around me. And from inside." Dox replied, a little excited.

Mona smiled her smile she saved just for her Minay. "That's good. That's the bond. You're starting to be able to feel it."

Closing her eyes again, Dox tried to bring herself back to where she was but it was harder after that moment of excitement. "What... what do you feel? What's it like for you?"

Mona paused in her thrumming for a moment to explain. "The thrumming I make resonates with the bonding. When we touch like this, I feel you as a red flare of emotions mingling with my blue."

Overwhelmed, Dox let her excitement get the better of her. "That blue light. I saw it in my minds eye. That was... that was you?" Tears of happiness started down her cheeks as she was shaken by the realization as the light in her own mind returned, flaring red as it seemed to swirl around the blue she felt for a moment.

"That's how I pour my love into your cracks," Mona replied, returning to her meditations and thrumming to help her Minay find her way.

In the dimly lit room, the two women held each other. Their heads pressed together, with only the faint thrumming from Mona could be heard in the silence. In their mind, swirls of red and blue danced between them.

05:00 hours was an early start time for many on the USS Hera, but not for her First Officer, Commander Rita Paris. In point of fact, she’d already been up for an hour, roused her logical mate to perform some good old-fashioned human bonding, then grabbed a shower before putting on workout clothes, booking a holosuite and crossing the corridor to hit the door chime of the quarters shared by Lieutenant Mnhei’sahe Dox and Ensign Mona Gonadie.

While a senior officer showing up at the quarters of a section chief was not necessarily the best protocol at 05:02, the casually-clad commander knew for a fact that Dox rose early just like her superior, and as an overachiever was likely already up, moving and engaged in some sort of activity, if only reading reports on her PaDD while still lying in bed with her feathery paramour. Thus while the door chime might be a surprise, it was not in much danger of awakening the portly pilot.

Unsurprisingly, Rita was right, as when the door chimed Dox was sitting in her crimson Starfleet robe with a cup of coffee at the dining room table, reviewing files for the day ahead on her PaDD. She had on a pair of green, fuzzy slippers and her thick, curly auburn hair was still damp from her shower as she preferred water to the sonic shower. Quizzically, she tilted her head wondering who it could be as the door. It would have simply opened for Doctor Dael.

"Come in." She called out in a friendly voice.

Stepping through the doorway, the ebullient Rita Paris strode into the flight control office's quarters, taking in the sights with appreciation in her eye. "I am SO glad she domesticated you, so you aren't living like a bachelor, Mnhei'sahe."

Clad in a tight sleeveless grey girl's distressed tee advertising 'Starfleet Academy Class of 2255' and tight black capri shorts, somehow her remarkable bust seemed almost tame in the miraculous sports bra she was currently armored in. The shoes she wore were, for a change, not running shoes, but clean white low profile cross trainers. Her hair, currently a bit long for Rita, was slicked back and she had a white hairband holding the hair back. As she approached the red robed Romulan, Paris refocused those baby blue eyes on her shipmate.

"I've come to ask a favor, Miss Dox. You... are a very dangerous woman. I've watched you fight, and you know how to hurt people in a hurry. This is a skill that I... lack. I don't like physical altercations," At that Rita squirmed a bit, her body language actually girly. "Have phaser, will travel has always been my motto. I mean I can flip and judo chop with the best of them, but... I'm a lover, not a fighter, plain and simple. Usually Sonak was there for the rough stuff, and he is remarkably fast, strong and efficient."

"But now I'm head of Security, and since my duty is the away team, that means half the time I'm a damn commando in power armor. I carry swords I don't really know how to use- well, not with any puissance. Which is okay, because the multifunction grenade launcher I carry. and my phaser. combined with a sensor suite that would have made a starship of my day envious I DO know how to use. But," Rita squirmed a bit more and grimaced. "I need to learn how to fight. I really don't want to but I really should. I'm a liability in melee, and if I'm in command then that's unacceptable."

Taking a sip of her coffee, Dox saved out the file on her PaDD, awkwardly stalling for a moment. Rita's body language made Dox uncomfortable to watch. Seeing the strongest woman she knew basically mirroring the kind of anxious fidgeting she was a master of was difficult. But she knew Rita was putting herself out considerably by asking for help like this and she wasn't going to let her friend OR her Commander down.

"I don't know how good I'll be at actually teaching anything, but yeah. Of course. I mean, it.... I understand the need... all things considered with what we do. So, yeah. Let me throw something on and let Mona know I'll be heading out early." Dox stood up, smiling warmly. She wanted to be as comforting as possible as she could read how uncomfortable the topic seemed to be making Rita.

"I'll be right back. If you want anything, make yourself at home." Then, she gestured to the updated decor with a grin. "It does look great though, doesn't it?"

"I am genuinely glad that you two decided to feather your nest," Rita nodded in approval as Dox disappeared into the bedroom, so Rita began to pace as she continued talking. "Having someone to come home to is huge, and it really helps make shipboard life much less military and much more like home. Allowing families onboard ships is an interesting twist, but I can see why. I would fight hard for my own life, harder for Sonak's, and I would exceed human limits for kids. Having families aboard means that it's not just your shipmates and the ship, but it makes the crew into an extended family. People will fight harder for their loved ones than anything. Yet in peace it keeps them balanced, because they aren't just about the mission. An element of modern Starfleet that I keenly appreciate."

After a brief moment, Dox stepped back out in a pair of black leggings, a crimson tank top with a pair of black sneakers. Mona was behind her now wearing the same crimson robe Dox had just been wearing, having just out of the shower herself.

With a smile, Dox turned and gave Mona a quick but deep kiss. "I'll see you in the office later. MacNielle is on Helm from oh seven hundred 'till thirteen hundred, then I take over. But I want to look over those new interface designs you're working on for the Scorpions. Those are looking amazing so far."

"Keep me abreast as well, Miss Gonadie," Rita grinned and nodded to the Miradonian aviatrix whose flight control systems would revolutionize the field- at least, according to a little birdie from the future. Time would tell.

"You two be safe and try not to hurt each other too badly, ok? Love you, Minay!" Mona said as the pair prepared to leave.

"Love you too." Dox replied with a warm smile over her shoulder for Mona, Dox stepped into the corridor as she and Rita made her way to the Holodeck to begin. "I get what you mean, Commander. Having someone worth fighting for is... a big deal. But I think what she makes me want to fight the hardest for is myself, if that makes sense."

"Why don't you tell me what it means to you, Miss Dox?" Paris asked. This was the usual dynamic- after all these months serving together, and particularly doing the 'walk and talk' as Rita put it, Dox had fallen back into a military gait out of force of habit. It made it easier to keep up if she was in step, and it was a military tradition that had survived for a reason. As they moved, they ate ground. Thus as they walked in step, they fell into the pattern- Paris the higher ranking more experienced officer turning even an admission into a teaching moment, with Dox as the junior officer put on the spot for an answer.

"She... makes me want to be a better me, I think." Dox grinned as she talked, as she was becoming quite familiar with Rita Paris' propensity for these kinds of questions. "I've spent a lifetime figuring out ways to convince myself that nobody actually cared if I lived or died. That became hard here on the Hera. Then it became impossible with her. She makes me want to be the woman she sees. And sometimes she helps me see I already am."

"That's excellent, Lieutenant. I think you are definitely learning the lessons to be found in relationships. I must admit, it's refreshing to see you optimistic. A good mate will always amaze you with how they see you. I am who I am today, in no small part, because Sonak helped me see who I was, without all of the neurosis and anxiety. Without getting in my own way. That, I think, beyond reproduction, is why we mate. To find ourselves, in someone else." Arriving at the turbolift, Rita pressed the button to call one.

"I'm trying. I don't always succeed. But I hope I do a little better each day then I did the day before." Dox smiled as she thought of Mona as the lift arrived and the pair made their way to their destination.

"That's all anyone can do. Deck 11," Paris called, and they passed the remainder of the trip in silence, which was unusual for the chatty commander. Approaching the holodeck, she sighed. "I kinda miss our poor stowaway in Holodeck 3. But we got it home, so hopefully that all worked out for the best."

"I hope so too. I mean... I think so. At the end, I felt gratitude before it left me. I still think we did the right thing." At the console outside the Holodeck, Dox pressed a button and spoke. "Computer, please initiate sparring room program 7-a. Standard safety protocols. Thank you."

With a chirp, the computer replied in the quirky fashion with which Dox was becoming familiar.

=^=You're welcome, Lieutenant Dox.=^= tag

As the door opened, the interior was now covered with teal pads along the floors. The walls were a light tan with a row of mirrors along the left side. Along the right wall was a folding table with a chilled water cooler, two cups and a stack of white towels and two folding chairs.

Unasked, Rita moved into a stretching routine to limber up. She may not have been a fighter, but she was an athlete, so she knew the basics of self-care and wasn't going to approach this incautiously. While doing so, she was quiet, withdrawing a bit without even realizing it as she spent some time inside her own head, arguing with herself about what she was undertaking, because she really very much did not want to. But that hadn't stopped her countless times before on dozens of alien worlds and bizarre situations, and it wasn't going to stop her now.

As Dox began stretching herself, she couldn't help but notice the silence in the room. From the usually gregarious Rita Paris, it was deafening. Dox might not have known exactly what was wrong, but she knew enough about Rita to know something was wrong that Rita wasn't saying. Breaking the silence, Dox began to speak as she stepped into the center of the room.

"So, you were there when I gave the silly speech to the security team about Llaekh-ae'rl. That was the level best I could think of to try and be... Inspirational. It's not my strong suit, to be sure. That was the spiel, this is the reality."

"My mother started teaching me this... as early as she started teaching me anything. I was studying Llaekh-ae'rl before I ever sat in a pilots chair." Now Dox was beginning to show her own nerves. "She knew that if one of our... clients... got onto our smuggling ship... that there were plenty of them that wouldn't have hesitated to have their way with a little girl. So... she... she taught me how to kill them if I had to. And eventually she taught me enough so that I wouldn't have to."

It wasn't exactly a rousing speech, set to inspire, but it was honest and frank. Llaekh-ae'rl was an ugly thing, after all. "She believed in teaching by doing. She showed me each technique by... using it on me first. Never with enough force to cause any damage. But with enough intention to instill that fear in me of it."

Shifting her tone a little, Dox tried to force a half smile. "Obviously, not what I want to go for here. Here I want to focus on defense. I want to focus on showing you what you can do to disable someone if you have to. Get them away from you because ultimately a phaser on stun is a much nicer way to deal with a threat."

Gesturing for Rita to come over to where she was, Dox put her hands at her side. "But first I need to see what you know. I'm not going to do anything but evade at this point... but... hit me. Imagine I'm a threat that needs to be stopped and there's no phaser."

The brows on the face of the pretty pilot furrowed, then she slid into a combat pose with a nod- the very standard 'horse' stance taught in Starfleet Academy judo. Taking an experimental swing with a knife hand, it was textbook judo. As Dox sidestepped it slightly, Rita's weight shifted, and she brought up a snap kick, using her longer legs and greater height to her advantage to drive the smaller woman back, save that she was too slow on the recoil, and it would have been easy to capture her leg or take a quick punch to her groin. Spinning around to try to land a backfist, it was far too clearly telegraphed, and Mnhei'sahe caught the arm easily, which led to Rita shifting her weight to try to flip her opponent, again, in classic Starfleet judo style.

The normally congenial commander still hadn't said a word, which was certainly a very clear sign to her opponent.

As Rita attempted to pull Dox into a flip, Dox shifted her own weight back and down, making it harder for the much taller woman to get the necessary leverage to maneuver the much heavier Lieutenant into a flip. Instead, it left Rita off balance.

"You're nervous," Dox said somewhat flatly.

Stepping back into a basic ready stance, Dox put her hands behind her back to indicate that they were pausing and Rita saw and acknowledged. "You know the moves mechanically, but you're still consciously thinking about them. That's something that time and practice will take care of as with any skill. Federation Common is my second language, but I've spoken it enough that I don't need to think about it to conjugate a verb anymore. Fighting is also a language. Everything we do is a language."

Pausing for a second, Dox knitted her eyebrows as she thought before continuing. "My onboarding. You got me to walk around a deck that I had memorized the layout of and still made me not think about what you were doing. You knew every time I wasn't being completely open or straightforward. You knew when I wasn't telling you something. You still do. How do you do that?"

“I just… do. I read your body language and I remember how it felt when I was in your shoes. What’s that got to do with this?” The answer was a bit hurried, not entirely correct, and delivered with far less patience than normal.

Nodding, Dox replied somewhat flatly. "When you took your stance, you placed your weight on one leg. That told me what hand to expect. What leg had to be used. When you swing, you rebalanced. Shifted your shoulders first. Flexed one hand and not the other. Your eyes moved to what you we're aiming for. It's the same thing."

Keeping her tone equal and as neutral as possible, Dox didn't want to feed Rita's frustrations. At least not yet. "That's just the language I understand. I leaned how to avoid a punch by being punched. A lot. So I know how it felt when I was in your shoes here. And that's really all it is to it at it's core."

"Do you remember the first lesson I told the security officers in that training session?" Dox asked, tilting her head.

"That the martial art you practice is called 'the laughing murder?" Rita responded incorrectly, and a bit snappish for her usual easygoing speech pattern. Plus she was missing the point, which was unlike her.

Noting Rita's growing frustration, Dox essentially ignored it and kept talking. "Well, that was the first thing I said, but the first lesson was 'always let your opponent move first.' That's how you get a read for them. See their strengths and weaknesses. I know you understand that core concept. You prompt your opponent to make a move. Make a mistake. Then work that mistake to your advantage."

Slightly unsure of herself, Dox pushed past her own anxiety. Rita was being defensive and, it seemed, actively trying to not answer correctly. So instead, she shifted focus for a moment to a different tactic. "But let's move on. Let's move on to defense, okay?"

The buxom bombardier nodded silently, a bit too quickly as she slid into a standard stance once more, pausing to wipe the sweat out of her eyes, despite the fact that she had yet to exert herself.

"What this is about is that I need to see how you read me in a combat scenario. So, take your position. I'm not going to be putting any power into anything here. It's all about reading my signals and my seeing what your defensive patterns are, okay?"

In response, Paris nodded quickly again, clearly anxious despite her trainer’s reassurances.

The younger lieutenant was speaking softly with a comforting voice. She wanted Rita to relax as much as possible, and not be afraid. Standing across from her, Rita assumed a defensive stance, planting one leg back and raising her guard. putting Her hands assumed the ‘knife hand’ style still taught at Starfleet Academy in the modern day up to block.

With that, Dox took a similar posture, bringing her hands up and standing in a more standard, Starfleet approved fighting stance as she threw her first swing. It was a wide, slightly slow left towards Rita's side that the Golden Commander easily blocked. The entire time, Dox kept her eyes locked on Rita's, which were watching the incoming blow, not her opponent.

Second by second, Dox continued. A wide kick, a broad right hook, all deftly defended. But as she moved, she began striking faster and tighter. Her swings becoming more straight thrusts as Rita had to pick up her own speed to compensate. And Rita was blocking each attack reasonably efficiently and gaining confidence. But with each new strike, Dox inched slightly forward, forcing Rita to step back slightly. The entire time, Dox watched Rita's eyes, her shoulders, her body language.

It was abundantly clear how uncomfortable sparring made the throwback officer, but she was still gamely rising to the challenge, fending off the slow and powerless blows with a minimum level of competency. To the well-trained combatant, it was abundantly clear that she had not been trained beyond the basics, and while she had natural athletic ability, it didn’t appear that she understood how to coordinate, use her balance well, control her breathing, and she was mopping sweat out of her eyes with a surprising frequency.

Finally, Dox shifted her tactic and brought her attack up to Rita's face and out of nowhere, the usually controlled and confident officer shut her eyes and flinched back slightly as she successfully blocked the hit.

Stepping back a step, Dox allowed Rita to re-orient herself and shake off the moment, as Rita blinked rapidly and shook her head. Observing closely, Dox knew what her next moves had to be. The redheaded Romulan’s eyes seemed to lose focus slightly as her arms fell to her side for a moment. Rita put her arms back up in a defensive stance. And as she did, Dox moved.

Much quicker now, the rotund pilot brought her arms up with a quickness Rita wasn't expecting. Instead of swinging, the blows were straight thrusts from Dox's core to Rita's midsection. The force was slightly greater but still light enough as Rita blocked each move successfully. A few thrusts and a kick kept pushing Rita slightly further back each time.

Finally, Dox slid slightly sideways and feigned with her right hand for a body strike before bringing her left into a sharp thrust aimed straight at her Commander’s face.

With her own defenses down for the feigned right, Rita panicked, wincing in anticipation of the hit Dox had already stopped inches away, and backpeddling before falling backward with a slight yelp. A higher pitched sound Dox recognized all too well was heard as Rita hit the mat behind her.

Stepping back and relaxing her posture, Dox's face showed her concern, not for her Commander, but the friend she thought of as a sister. But she did her best to keep her tone as neutral as possible. "You're okay."

“I’m, I’m, I’m fine,” the conventionally confident commander stammered, her breathing much too rapid for the level of exertion, and there was a tremor in her hands that was usually reserved for getting too close to a transporter. It was abundantly clear to the rotund redhead that fight or flight was in full force inside the buxom blonde, and that she was engaged in a considerable struggle to remain in the fight, or even in the room.

But Dox began to understand what happened as she looked down at her frustrated, angry First Officer. "The Commander?" Dox asked, knowing full well that her title was a harsh reminder of her own Father and his harsh style of so-called parenting. "He used to hit you, didn't he?"

It wasn't a question, but a statement.

Those bright blue eyes looked up immediately, wide with alarm, then her gaze fell to the deck. With a rather pronounced sigh, Rita Paris paused for a very long few seconds, then nodded, shamed by her admission as she could not make eye contact.

The friend, Mnhei'sahe Dox, desperately wanted to sit down on the mat next to Rita and hug her. But in her heart, she knew that it would only delay what was really needed. What Rita was really asking for help with, she probably didn't know she needed, herself. So instead of sitting next to Rita, Dox stepped over and held out her hand to help her First Officer up as she spoke softly. "I know the sound. I know that reaction. It was... different for me. But just as familiar."

Waiting for Rita to take her hand, Dox's tone got slightly more firm. "Look at me, Commander. There's no shame here. Never with me. I've watched you face down reanimated corpses and immortal Valkyrie without breaking a sweat. I've watched you give orders to GODS and have them obey. But this is an enemy you can't face directly. An enemy long gone that lives forever in your head. And the blunt reality is that he's always going to live there. And right now, he's winning. But he doesn't have to keep winning. He's only as powerful as you allow him to be. So let's get up and do this again."

The stout Romulan was trying her level best to be what Rita had been so many times for her and had no idea what she was doing. But she knew Rita had to get up and keep at it. And she would be there to help her as many times as it took, with her hand still out.

Brows furrowed, face flushed, Rita Paris took the offered hand and rose from the mat again. Trying to shake it off, she slid back into a combat stance once more, and brought both her guard and her eyes up with no small effort to face her friend, whom she had asked for help. Always a terrible liar, it was clear from her expression that she was fighting back tears, but she was forcing herself to continue. Nodding silently, she pressed on to continue with the training.

It was all the vintage Starfleet officer could do not to put up her hands and try reason.

Allowing herself a slight smile, Dox stood plainly now, arms loose at her side as she spoke. "Now, it's no longer I attack and you defend or vice versa. You've seen my attacks, I've seen yours. We've seen each other's defenses. Now we're going to put that all into practice. Now we're going to TRY to hit each other, Commander. Hopefully without any Court Martials."

It was a light joke to remind them both that they were among friends, ultimately. "Some basic tips. Don't look at my eyes exclusively. Posturing, macho idiots tell you to watch the eyes to see when an opponent is going to move. Remember what I told you to watch for. Everyone telegraphs their moves in some way. It's all in the hips and the shoulders. Watch for feints. I will try and misdirect you. Misdirect me right back. And don't be afraid to make contact. Asa's a tremendous Doctor that's fixed my broken nose twice. And just so you know, it's been broken seventeen times in my life, now. It will be again."

Chuckling slightly, Dox added another joke to hopefully lighten the tone for a moment. "The last time was just me falling out of bed and landing on my face. Not the most impressive of battle stories." Then she reset the mood to its appropriate one.

"I'll break my first rule. Be ready." Then Dox stretched her neck and shook out her hands and without hesitation began to strike, throwing a wide punch at first, purposefully leaving her side open.

Rattled, Rita retreated from the wide punch, then spun around to launch a side kick, using her reach to try to land a blow. It was clear that she was off-balance, as the pit of fear in her stomach refused to quell, despite her forcibly overriding it to stay in the fight. A few punches were easily blocked, even as she worked to keep her defenses up and go with the flow. Intellectually she knew Dox would not hurt her, despite the shorter woman’s greater density and proficiency.

However, that did nothing for the fear that continued to hound her. Which was keeping her in the fight, but her strikes lacked power, and if anything now she was flinching that much more in anticipation of blows, and giving ground that much faster until she finally felt the bulkhead behind her. With a grunt she launched herself forward to go on the offensive, only to overreach and end up sprawling face-first on the mat.

With a growl of frustration, she levered herself back up onto her feet again, mopping perspiration off her face before settling back into a ready stance again, her trailing hand trembling slightly.

Watching, Dox was becoming frustrated and didn't want to push Rita further- but she knew she might not have a choice. Breaking her own advice, she looked Rita in the eyes and began stepping up to her as she spoke. "For all the people you lost, you continue to give HIM power?"

With a pit in her stomach threatening to burst, Dox brought her right arm up to draw Rita's defenses up while her left hand whipped in and laid a solid slap across her face.

Eyes closed, Paris brought a hand up to her cheek, the slap having clearly startled her as her guard completely dropped as she clutched her cheek. Blinking back tears, Paris brought her guard up again, shakier than before, arms close to her body, weight no longer balanced evenly between her legs.

The silence filled the space as Dox pushed down a desire to break out in tears. But she didn't let up.

Stepping forward again, Dox's voice was raised. "He's gone. He never even EXISTED and you're letting him control you!" Again, a quick feint and another loud smack.

“Stuh-stop it,” Paris only managed a whisper, but it was still audible in the room with only the two of them present. Breath coming in short gasps, face contorted in a grimace, she forced herself back into the fray launching a kick to try to drive her attacker back.

"HE IS NOT COMMANDER PARIS! YOU ARE COMMANDER PARIS!!" Dox could read the rage on Rita's face building to a fever pitch, and this time she pulled back for a wide slap, mimicking what she assumed was Rita's father's posture, leaving herself wide open for what Rita needed to do.

Which was apparently cover her face and head with her arms and stumble back a step, only to collapse on the floor, hands and arms wrapped protectively over her head in a fetal posture that was unmistakable as she began to sob. "Sorry... I'm sorry... I just... please stop, I'm sorry..."

"Askain FENNA!" Dox chastised herself in Rihan as the pit in her own stomach exploded and tears burst out. Terrified to make the situation any worse, she kneelt down on the mat in front of Rita, hesitantly reaching forward before snatching her hand back.

In her attempt to help, she had just physically abused her friend and didn't know what to do. She had reinforced Rita's fears instead of helping her release them. "Oh, Rita. I'm... I'm... I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't... I don't..."

Dox was rambling, trying to keep herself from falling apart worse. "You came to me for help and I... I thought if I could..." She wanted to reach out and pull Rita into her arms and hold her and assure her it was going to be okay, but didn't want to risk causing her to slip further back by touching her again. Instead, twitching, Dox bit down hard into her own wrist, coming just shy of breaking the skin.

"I thought if I could... could make you face it... take it out on me... it might help. Give you something to vent on... but you have NOTHING to be sorry for. NOTHING." Dox emphasized but didn't raise her voice any higher than a soft whisper. "You didn't do anything to be sorry about."

It took a moment for Rita Paris to compose herself again, and when she did, she could not make eye contact. Sitting up, she mopped at her face with her open palms and tried to force her ragged breathing to stabilize. Knees up around her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs and rocked a bit, trying to calm herself. “I’m… I’m sorry, Mnhei’sahe. I asked for your help and I’m… uh, not a very good student, I’m afraid.”

“Some Commander, huh? One rap in the mouth and I fall apart,” she tried to chuckle, but despite her best efforts started crying again, gently bomping her head against her knees. “Still just a stupid little girl…”

Feeling a little less worried about provoking a negative reaction now, Dox sat down and scooched over to next to Rita. "I'm sorry. I... did what I thought would help based on me. But I've run on anger my whole life. It's how I frame everything up until now. But that's not you. But you're not a stupid little girl. You're a woman who was broken as a girl then over and over again and some of those pieces are still jagged."

When the old school officer spoke, her voice was quiet. “I’m sorry… I guess I should have been a little more up front with you. I’m… I’ve never been a good fighter, and I thought maybe… but I should have told you I just… I didn’t think I’d get so worked up, but once you…" she interrupted her confession to cup her cheek, chich was still bright red and stung fiercely.

“I remember… it was the day of my mom’s funeral. We went to the funeral, and I cried a lot, which irritated Daddy. I was upset because he wouldn't hold me or hold my hand, because he was holding Albert and I was too big for that now. When we got home, I went into my parent’s room and pulled on my mother’s favorite sweater. I just... I missed her, you know? I was six and she was gone.” Rita looked up to finally make eye contact again, although she was still hugging her knees, minimizing the space she took up like a child hiding in a cupboard. “Then Daddy came in and found me, and he was just so angry. It took him three steps to cross the room, then he yanked me up by the arm and he…”

Gulping, her lip quivering, Rita blinked back tears at the memory. “He... he slapped me, in the face. Hard. So hard. Hard enough that I saw stars, I still remember it so clearly. Then he yelled at me, and he roared about how dare I come into his quarters and touch his things, and I tried to explain, but he didn’t want to hear it. He didn't care, he just kept hitting me all over, then he sent me to my room.”

“That was the first time, but as you might guess, it, ah, definitely wasn’t the last. He’d always start with a slap to the face… sometimes that led to the rest of the beating. Sometimes it was only a slap in the mouth, just to ‘put me in my place’ and ‘teach me some respect’. And now… I mean, I’m not a coward, I’m not, it’s just…” Rita trailed off, self-conscious and awkward. “Some golden age hero, huh?”

"I have seen first hand multiple times just how not a coward you are, Rita. But you're right. You're not a 'golden age hero'," Dox replied, starting to regain some of your composure. "Because that's not a real thing. That's an invention of other people you are under no obligation to try and live up to. What you are is the best damn Commander in the fleet by a wide margin. A big part of why is because you are nothing like him. And you're nothing like me. You run on compassion and hope. You lift up this universe and force it to be better with your actions. You're a Starfleet hero, the real deal."

Taking a chance, Dox put her hand on Rita's as she clutched her knees hoping contact wouldn't make it worse. "But what I said wasn't wrong. You're letting him live in your head and he has no right to be there. He's not Commander Paris. YOU are."

A sad smile spread across the face of the beleaguered beauty, and she unfolded herself to latch onto the stout sailor of the stars, to enfold her into a mildly smothering hug. There were still a few minutes of sniffles, but slowly Rita composed herself. “Sorry, Dox. I honestly didn’t think I’d fall apart like this… I should have been more honest with you, and I’m sorry for that. And you’re right, he’s not even a ghost, and... I should be better than this. I need to be.”

Returning the hug, which squeezed out a few more tears from Dox, she responded with a treble in her voice. "You will be. It's just something that will come with time. But you know you've got support. I'll always do what I can for you, and it will usually be much less violent."

Chuckling awkwardly, she continued. "And honestly, I think you should talk to Asa about this all too. They've really helped me with a lot since they took up the counseling gig. I don't think I would have been ready to even try to be with Mona otherwise. They might be an even better counselor then they are a doctor."

"As far as falling apart, an extremely wise woman once told me something about that. I think now she'd say something about how we fall apart so we can learn to put ourselves back together. And when we can't carry all the pieces ourselves, that's why we have friends to help us carry the load." Dox Leaned her head against Rita's. "I bet she'd say something like that."

'Your friend would say that, would she?"

"I suspect she would."

"Your friend thinks she should fight holographic opponents, and have you coach her so you aren't hitting her, because that was a terrible idea she had," Rita admitted, seeing the real flaw in her plan. Asking a loved one to hit you was not the best idea for an abused child. But now the lesson was learned, so she'd do better. "What do you say? I think we still have twenty minutes or so with the room. Want to show me what I'm doing wrong?"

A bit more of the usual Rita was there, as burning cheeks and all, she was still determined to improve herself.

"Like I said, she's an extremely wise woman." Dox replied with a smile as she thought about it for a second. With an exaggerated grunt, the rotund Romulan pushed herself up and back to her feet then turned around to stand in front of Rita as she raised her head to speak to the room.

"Computer, please initiate Dox sparring partner program and add to the existing environment. Level one." With a chirp, in the center of the room appeared a two meter tall teal blue figure of a humanoid that appeared to be made of rubber with the loose features of a face barely visible. It was a holographic, walking recreation of Dox's now discarded practice dummy.

Turning to glance at the stoic hologram as it stood there, Dox smiled with a quickly half grin. "I kinda missed him. He was the perfect man. He shut up and let me vent. But with the safety protocols, now I can't hurt myself on him anymore."

Turning back, Mnhei'sahe looked down at her friend and Commander, and as before, she held out her hand to help her back to her feet. With her quirky half grin still in place, she spoke in a determined voice.

"Let's be better."

Taking the offered hand with a genuine smile, the very traditional and somewhat unbelievable Starfleet career gal took the hand of her friend and fellow explorer. Because that's what they did- help one another up.

"Indeed, Miss Dox. Let's be better."

Sitting on a biobed in the main sickbay, there was nothing particularly wrong with lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox at the moment. However, as she had recently learned from a conversation with the Goddess Hera her mind had been artificially forced open and left defenseless from any potential psychic invasions or attacks.

As there was no conclusive way to test for that, Doctor Asa Dael had asked the red-headed Romulan woman to come in for a series of baseline scans as Dox was planning to begin a rigorous mental training under the aegis of the Vulcan Lieutenant Sonak to, with any luck, unlock the mental abilities Romulan's had abandoned thousands of years ago when they separated from Vulcan in the great exodus.

So Dox sat patiently but anxiously on the biobed as Doctor Dael was in the other room looking over the initial brain scans, kicking her short legs as they dangled over side. In order to cut the largely unnecessary tension, she forced a slight joke to Asa in the next room. "I still have a brain up here, right Doctor?"

“Oh, is that where it was supposed to be? Shoot, I guess I scanned your ankles for no reason,” Asa quipped back.

Looking nervous to interrupt the two senior officers, Ensign Carrott poked his head into Asa’s office, “There is a very determined woman asking for you on Subspace, Doctor. She…well, she’s not going to leave a message.”

“How does everyone keep getting my location?” Asa muttered under their breath before replying, “Thank you, Ensign, please go ahead and put her through. Um, don’t suppose she said her name?”

“I..uh, well, I forgot to ask, sir,” Carrott replied, twisting pulling at an earlobe nervously.

Smiling indulgently, Asa knew the young Ensign had a lot on his plate. His wife was, as expected, pregnant, and the Ensign had just found out two days prior. He had been a bit out of it since then, and had taken to saying “Pregnant?” to the room at large at random intervals when he didn’t think anyone could overhear.

“Let’s try to remember to ask in the future, ok? And Ensign? I know you have a lot on your mind, and I’m here to support you, so let’s figure out a way to help you get through the next seven months with your mind intact. Quick meeting at 1500? You aren’t in trouble, just seems like I can serve you better than I am is all,” Asa said in a placating tone. They knew the Ensign would need to get it together before the ship headed off on its next mission, but a day or two allowance could be made for life-changing news.

Tugging furiously at his earlobe, Carrott responded with “Aye, Doctor. And, um, sorry about that.”

Once the ensign had resumed his duties, Asa answered the call. An aged face greeted them, wizened beyond what a human face could possibly achieve, with shocking white hair and a permanent smile showing off a mostly-full set of teeth. Recognizing the woman as their Nanna Yi’hawn, adopted grandmother, Asa squeeled with delight.

“Nanna! Mnhei’sahe! Come here, it’s Nanna!”

From the other room, Dox initially flinched with concern at Asa's squeal as the young Romulan was notoriously protective of the even younger Doctor. But her own face lit up at the news as she was legitimately enamored with Asa's Nanna.

Schooching down from the biobed, Dox trotted into Asa's office with a smile but her customary anxiety giving her a little concern. "Hello, Ma'am. Is everything okay?"

“Fine, lass, just fine,” the ancient woman replied. “Actually glad I caught the two of you together. I was calling little Asa here to give them a heads up about you. Did you know your brain is wide open to the whole multiverse, young lady?”

Nanna’s tone was playfully chiding, it was clear she was making light of the situation, but also felt strongly enough about it to have sought out how to reach Doctor Dael. The background behind Nanna was a meeting facility somewhere on Bajor as the colony she lived in did not possess such technology, and Yi’hawn was wearing her best traveling coat as she called it, further evidence she had journeyed quite far from home by her current standards to make this call.

“Wait, Nanna, what?” Asa said, confused at the pronouncement.

“Her brain, child. Mind, soul, psyche, whatever you want to call it. Most people have some level of psychic defense by nature. Granted, for non-psionic races like humans the defenses are slight- just enough to keep out the celestial wind as it were. For Vulcans, Betazoid, and incredibly talented El-Aurians such as myself- those defenses are quite strong. For you, lass,” Nanna said directly to Mnhei’sahe, ”You have a seven-mile high sign blinking ‘Welcome Welcome, Come on In.' I meant to tell you when you were here, but I lost track of things, I’m sorry child.”

Slightly embarrassed, Dox's eyebrows knitted as she fidgeted in place slightly. "Well, I kind of JUST found out a little about it, Ma'am. We've, Asa and I, we've just started to look into the medical side of it. And I've talked with Sonak... he's a Vulcan and a Kolinahr master... and he's agreed to try and help me train to... I don't know... defend myself. And Mona and I have..."

Beginning the ramble, Dox stopped herself from going into the somewhat intimate details of her meditations with her newfound mate, Mona Gonadie. Quickly, she shifted the subject hoping Nanna Yi'hawn wouldn't jump on the mention of Mona. "Uh... what do you mean, 'the whole multiverse'?"

With a laugh, Nanna said gently, “You didn’t think there was just the one universe, did you? There are as many other universes as there are stars in the sky. More, actually. Now, don’t sound too scared, it seems like you have things well in hand. Those Kolinahr masters have things well in hand, and with your heritage, a Vulcan is an excellent choice. Who is this Mona person? Another Vulcan? Or someone from Starfleet Psionic Defense? Don’t tell me they don’t have one….everyone knows there is some kind of something going on to train all the psionic users.”

The young Romulan blushed slightly as, of course, Nanna didn't let the mention of Mona slip. "Uh..." She chuckled nervously. "Mona's kind of... we're... um... a couple... I guess. She's Miradonian and they can... um..."

Embarrassed, she hung her head slightly as she spoke. "Apparently they can... bond psychically when they... um... oh my goodness, this is ridiculous." Pushing out an awkward smile, Dox couldn't understand why she was so nervous talking about this with a woman she had only met once, except that in this case, Nanna Yi'hawn practically exuded that special kind of parental vibe that made people feel a little bit more like children seeking approval. "She's my partner, and she's been helping me with meditation for... bonding. It's been... helpful so far."

Chuckling softly at Mnhei’sahe’s discomfort, Nanna replied, “Lass, no need to be embarrassed. I’ve had more children than some people have sex, so I doubt you can say anything I haven’t done, said, felt, thought about, forgotten about, and done a second time. Little Asa, on the other hand, may die of embarrassment, but they will quickly resurrect, I have no doubt.”

“Nanna!” Asa groaned, turning red to compliment Mnhe’sahe's green. “I’ve been practicing talking to people about….that. I’m not a complete moron, you know.”

“And yet you still don’t want to say the word, Asa. Sex. Sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex,” Nanna responded in a sing-song voice. It was obvious she took great pleasure in chiding Asa, the way only family can.

A slight smile spread on Dox's face as the embarrassment was being properly spread. She knew how uncomfortable Asa was around the subject, thought, and generally did try her best to avoid it more often than not.

“Now for you, Mnhei’sahe,” Yi’hawn continued, “Can’t say I’ve met a Miradonian before. Back a few years ago, I think about 100? 200? Not sure, but a few years back word of their ill-treatment made the rounds. Some of us meant to travel to their planet and see what we could do, but then the dang Nexus ate us and everything went weird. Honestly, my memory is a bit fuzzy on those days. Touch telepath, I’m guessing? Or only in certain circumstances? You tried sending each other the mental moon eyes without touching, lass?”

"Uh, yeah. It seems to work best when we're touching, skin to skin." Dox replied. "It's more of a... I could feel her energy and see it in my mind like this blue light around my own, which was kinda red. And when we concentrated, the lights would kind of... swirl around each other.... if that makes any sense. It's weird to try and describe." She chuckled nervously. "But I know she's been reaching out to me for a while. The other night was the first time I tried reaching back, and there was definitely something that happened."

Nanna waggled her eyebrows at Mnehi’sahe suggestively, “I’ll bet it did, lass. I’ll bet it did. Well, it sounds like this old fool was late to dinner as usual, and you young’un have everything well in hand. If I may suggest though…be careful who you reach out to. Not saying anything against your mate, mind. Just…well, I’ve been burned myself doing that in the past, and it’s not a pleasant experience, nor one soon forgotten. Just the same way you wouldn’t go around kissing everyone you meet, be careful with your mind too.”

Respectfully, Dox nodded. "I will, thank you."

Turning to Asa, Nanna continued, “That big book Cara gave you? See if you can find the section on blocking probes from alternate universes. I would teach you myself, and I can only assume it’s in the book, but it’s a good starter exercise and it will help your friend, too. And if you can’t find it, tell the Reaper to at least open the book to the right page for you. She can’t do much more than that, but I bet she will if you ask nicely.”

Nodding an agreement, Asa said, “Yes ma’am, I’ll ask her.”

With a slightly quizzical look on her face, Dox turned back to ask another question. "Pardon me, Ma'am. About these... other universes. We know a little about the idea, I mean, Commander Paris herself comes from a different universe herself, but are you saying my mind is so open that it can be calling to... things... outside our own universe? How dangerous could this be?"

Tapping her nose in a gesture that others would occasionally see Dael use also, Nanna replied thoughtfully, “Well, it’s pretty darn hard to cross the universal divide. The Q can, of course, it’s part of some of their foolishness. Or at least they used to be able to. I haven’t seen one in person in over a millennia, so who knows anymore. Some of the deity class beings, like the prophets, can. You don’t have the raw juice to cross that divide yourself, no offense intended, but if for whatever reason one of those beings from another universe was peeking in on this one, they would be able to see that Welcome sign, plain as any deity class here. It won’t call to them until they are looking in this direction, but at that point, it’s a blinking hello.”

With a quirky half smile on their face, Dox replied. "I... I don't want that juice. I have too much as it is. But thank you... that's all the more reason for me to work on this training with Sonak." Then her quirky smile broadened into a wider one. "Seriously, though. Thank you. It's... it's good to know I have even more help with this. I really appreciate it."

“Pah, what’s the point of being everyone’s grandmother if you can’t boss around the kids a bit, eh? Love you both kiddies, now go see something new and unique and write me and tell me all about it. You are hereby responsible for the life I live vicariously through you both, so make it a good one.”

Rolling their eyes theatrically, Asa replied, “Of course, Nanna. I’ll go be promiscuous and start a few riots and tell you about them.”

“Only if they are good riots!” Nanna fired back.

"Only the best riots, we promise. And we'll take pictures for sure." Dox replied with a smile. She had never let herself appreciate her own human grandparents when the were alive and was feeling considerably more emotional in the moment than she would have thought.

“Cheers for now then, my darlings! Toodles!” then with a waive of her fingers, Nanna Yi’hawn signed off.

Looking over to Mnhei’sahe, Asa said levelly, “The first riot is on you.”

With a chuckle, Dox replied. "On this ship, we probably shouldn't joke too much about that. Still, it was really good to hear from her. You have so much of her in you, I hope you know."

Looking quizzically at Mnhei’sahe, Asa arched an eyebrow and said, “Well, must be some of those long passed down genes from her however-many-of-them children she is claiming. You know that number changes as often as some people change their shoes, right? I’m not sure she even remembers anymore which she gave birth to, which she adopted, and which she just claims. I guess it doesn’t really matter though, does it? If there were to be an ancestral figure for my people, we could do far worse. Even if she is pleasantly crazy.”

With a broad smile, Dox shook her head. "I'm not talking about heredity, Asa. I'm talking about your heart, and your sense of humor and your sense of hope. And yes, your pleasant craziness. Besides, you know my feelings on family... I choose mine."

"But...." Dox said changing the subject, "was there anything out of the ordinary in those scans you took? Especially since I kind of ruined them being a 'baseline' by connecting with Mona?"

Cocking their head to the side considering, Asa took a breath.

“Everything about this is out of the ordinary, but that’s part and parcel of life here, I think. You synaptic responses are more consistent with a Vulcan’s, but there are traces of something else. From what we know of the Debrune, it would seem that your mental signature is leaning in that direction. What that means for the future, I’m not entirely sure.”

Confused, Dox knitted her eyebrows. "Okay... I have to admit... Honestly, I don't know much of anything about the Debrune. What does that mean?"

“Well, they were the offshoots of the ancient Romulans. From what we know, they had similar psionic abilities to Vulcans, but lived an emotionally rich life. They were prone to ability spikes tied to their emotions, which while that can create powerful defense mechanisms, it can also leave a person crippled at the worst time. They were touch telepathic, which also matches what you seem to be experiencing. I would just caution at going too far, too fast, you know? Neural synaptic cascade syndrome is a possibility for those with newly enhanced mental capacities. I want you and Mona to be happy, and that seems safe enough- but just remember to walk before you run, ok?”

"Neural synaptic..." Dox quickly looked far more concerned than a moment ago. "Oh, this just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it? I wish Hera could have just closed that mental door instead of me now needing to open the rest. I was fine just... being what I was, ya'know?"

Sensing their friend’s distress, Asa came across the table in their office and sat on the chair next to Mnhei’sahe. Clasping her hand gently, Asa said, “But think about what you would have missed, too. Mnhei’sahe of six months ago couldn’t bond with Mona, right? But now you can? I get it, I really, really do. When I got the kiss of psionic whamminess from Hera it was terrifying. I still don’t understand 1/10th of what I can do, but I know that it is probably important to learn. Just like you are still exploring what kind new strengths this can give you, and you don’t fully comprehend what’s going on. Growth is often like that. When we are kids, we don’t know our bodies are growing, not really. We just sense they are changing, and we don’t know what they are changing to. We fall down a lot because where the ceiling was a week ago suddenly isn’t true anymore, and all our limbs are in new and different relations to one another. We cry because our bones hurt from growing and it feels like a personal attack. Our emotions and mind changes how it processes things and it feels like the weight of those changes will bury us. But at the end of it all, that’s how we become adults. It’s not always pretty or fun, in fact most of puberty is the opposite of that, but it’s always worth the effort, right? I guess what I’m saying is that you are in psionic puberty, so don’t be too hard on yourself, and don’t give up. We’ll get you through this, I promise.”

"I know you will, Asa... I do." Then Dox chuckled slightly as she thought about it, repeating the Doctor's words. "Psionic puberty. Heh. That makes this my third puberty now between my first one, fixing my DNA giving me fresh hormones, and now this. Hopefully, third time's the charm."

“Fingers crossed, right? And worst case scenario, I’m sure Hera would still help you if you decide that is what is best. In the meantime, we keep on as best we can. We mere mortals have discerned our way through the universe for millennia, I’m sure we can handle it once again, eh? And bonus- this puberty doesn’t include pimples or mood swings in so far as I can tell.”

"My luck, I'll start having other people's mood swings." Dox chuckled, only half-joking. "So, weekly scans, then? At least for the beginning?"

“For now, yes. Before we move to bi-weekly scans I’d like to see some stability in your neural signature and check with Lieutenant Sonak to get his feedback on your defenses. How are your anxiety levels holding up? Do you want a short term pharmaceutical option to help maintain your mental health while you go through the training?” Asa replied.

"My anxiety? It's through the roof. But... We might want to hold off on anything like that. At least until I know what I'm going to have to do with Sonak's training. I can manage it. I've got plenty of help." Dox replied with a slight sigh.

Patting her hand gently, Asa said gently, “If you aren’t sleeping, it’s going to be very difficult to do the mental work needed to heal. There is no fault in needing some pharmaceutical help. I’m…I’m on a light sedative at nights still, myself. It’s the only way I get to sleep since Mars. You sure you ok on that front? And not just making life more difficult for yourself out of some misplaced sense of propriety?”

Squinting with a bit of an exaggerated expression, Dox replied. "I think my counselor has been blabbing."

It was a joke at the expense of the face that Doctor Dael had been rather successfully subbing as the ships counselor as well for a number of months now. "But... yeah. Help sleeping I won't say no to."

With a wink, Asa went to grab a container of small pills.

“Yeah, I hear that Doctor Dael is a grade A blabbermouth. I’ll be sure and tousle their hair when next I see them.”

Then, stopping theatrically in front of a reflective surface, Asa made a face of mock consternation and thoroughly tousled their own hair.

Bringing the meds over to Mnhei’sahe without stopping to right what was left of their part, Asa said, “They are gummies, so no need to take with water. Just keep by your bed and chew one when you are ready to go to sleep. They act pretty quickly, but if you get called to duty, I will program the sedative negator formula into your replicator. Questions?”

"No. It seems pretty self-explanatory, Doctor. And I'll be sure to check back in after my first session with Sonak for comparative scans. Thanks." Dox replied, looking at the small container of sedatives.

“Please do. And Mnhei’sahe? Seriously, get some good sleep. The galaxy shines a little brighter when you do.”

Smiling back, Dox nodded. "Good advice. You be sure to take it too, right? And the door is always open if you can't."

It was on the recommendation of Lieutenant Sonak that Mnhei'sahe Dox found herself waiting on one of the Holodecks of the U.S.S. Hera. Sonak himself said he would meet Dox at nineteen hundred hours, which was in about five minutes. But Dox was nervous and got there a few minutes early, knowing full well that the Vulcan master of Kolinahr would be there exactly on time, as he always was.

As she paced nervously around the empty black room covered in yellow grid lines, she thought about what brought her to where she was now. She though back to the events now almost five months ago where in order to pilot the ship through a raging cosmic storm she had utilized an experimental flight helmet. A flight helmet that she had recently learned from the Goddess Hera might have inadvertently left her mind permanently open to psychic attack.

Hera referred to the mind as having seven gates that one could learn to open to gain control of their minds. And she also spoke of an eight gate to what she called the psychic dream plain. This was a gate that was supposed to be inaccessible to mortals. And this gate had been blown wide open in Dox's otherwise very mortal mind.

The Starships namesake called it an 'unclosable door', but suggested that Dox could learn, through mental training, to defend her mind if she could successfully reawaken the mental abilities that the Romulan people had abandoned generations ago. Hera offered to do this for Dox, but on the advice of Commander Rita Paris, the anxious aviatrix decided that the hard way was for the best.

And since in a biological level, Romulans and Vulcan's are essentially the same, it made the most sense to seek the guidance of the masterful Sonak. After Dox expressed everything she had learned and sent a written request for tutoring, Sonak recommended the Holodeck as it could be secured and made into whatever environment would be best.

Turning towards the door, Dox wondered what time it was when she realized that it must be exactly nineteen hundred hours as the doors wooshed open at Sonak's arrival. "Hello Lieutenant. Thank you for making the time to see me this evening." Dox said.

''We come to serve,'' he answered as he always did. It was a traditional greetings of his poeple and it srved things even better as the very first step of what they intended to do; reawaken the full mental capabilities of Dox' Vulcanian physiology. But beyond that, he meant every single word of this sentence.

He stepped before her, hands at his back, showing all the proper dicipline and decorum of a junior officer answering the call of a senior one. But the glow in his eye was that of a concerned and respectful friend. The professional phrasing of his words was softened by the deepness of his low voice.

''I am honored, Lieutenant, to be of help in this most significant part of your existence. And I am honored to have this opportunity to share with you the ancient wisdom that was shared with me. May this be a new opportunity Romulans and Vulcans to show how our people are united despite time and space.''

"The honor is mine. And I hope to prove worthy of your efforts, if even a little." Dox fidgeted slightly as she spoke, nervous before the master of logic. "I tried to be as through in my request as possible, but do you have any questions regarding my situation and my need?"

The Vulcan didn't hesitate in his answer.

'' When the student fails, it is always the failure of the teacher. What we are about to start is a time-honored method that has proven to be efficient even with full-blooded humans and uncooperative young Vulcans. For the teacher to learn about the student is as much part of the process as for the student to learn what the teacher has to impart. That being said, any information you deem relevant will help me better help you.''

"Well... um... I have been continuing to practice the basic meditation techniques you've shown me. Not always daily, but more other than not. They have proven helpful in both accessing lost memories, clarifying thought and in the case of the incident at the Section 31 base, helping me not lose my head during the crisis." Dox felt like she was rambling, but wanted to let Sonak know anything that might even be a little relevant.

"Also, Ensign Gonadie and I have recently become a... a couple. And she informed me that her species possesses a capability to bond telepathically with their chosen mate over time. She has begun sharing her meditative techniques and I combined them with some of the focusing elements you've shown me, and I was able to make a rudimentary contact with her. I felt her... energy... for lack of a clearer term. It appeared in my mind's eye as a blue light that pulsed with a..." Dox was slightly embarrassed to go into specific details of something that had been quite personal, but she trusted both Sonak's discretion and understanding.

"She generates a... thrumming vibration. And the light resonated with that vibration in my mind's eye. Through that, I could feel a warmth that wasn't physical. It's as far as we've gotten, but I thought you should know that as well." Dox had an awkward half smile that she knew was an unnecessary affectation of her anxiety, particularly with Sonak.

The Vulcan simply nodded.

''There are a great number of ways to discipline the mind for every single purpose we might use it for. What she shared with you can be used to build concentration by focusing solely on the light, the feel of it, purposefully excluding everything else, even one's bodily sensations. The more often you do this, the more easily you can later recall that state of mind and then apply it for different purposes, like concentrating on a task, blocking out pain or reigning in emotions.''

He paused a moment before continuing.

''The mind is not immaterial by nature but an emerging property of the physical brain. Thus, just like the body, the mind can be exercised to improve and even gain new faculties.''

There was a comfort in Sonak's logical reasoning. Grounding the metaphysical in reality helped Dox feel like her challenge wasn't as insurmountable as it felt before. Still, she awkwardly tried to contain any overt happiness at knowing she was moving in a good direction. Instead, she tried to keep focused and move forward. "Then, in regards to us. How do we begin? What's the first step?"

''If you are looking for building mental defenses, then we should proceed exactly as when you want to learn how to physically defend yourself; being shown what a defensive move is and then practice it against progressively more powerful attacks.''

With his hand, he invited her to sit on the ground in front of him.

''Computer; meditation program Sonak VF1.''

''Program input'' answered the soft feminine disembodied voice of the ship's computer; begin when ready.''

''Activate.''

Suddenly, the black room and it's yellow grid was replaced by a vast scenery or rocky ravines and gorges ringed by lava-spouting volcanoes. The heat was oppressive, the air thin and the stone hard and dry. They were both sitting on a flat, circular stone ringed by some oily thick liquid bubbling and hissing like hot tar.

As the heat hit her, Dox felt her breath momentarily get taken away. It was a sudden shift that took her a moment to acclimate herself too. But after a few seconds,she felt herself regain composure as she looked back at Sonak and nodded her readiness.

Sonak sat before her, his grey eyes unblinking as they plunged into hers.

''Good; you felt how your body reacted to the assault of heat and dryness and found reflexively how to acclimate your physiology to block the discomfort. What you felt physically can be transfered to your mind as an intrusive tought would try to enter your own. This is the instinctual barrier; the first layer of protection you can build in your mind.''

He extended his arms until the tip of his fingers brushed against her temples.

''Now, feel it again in your flesh, consciously; then, use this awareness against my mental contact but within your mind; the same way your body adjusted to keep in check the heat and the dryness.''

Trying to focus on the instructions from Sonak, Dox instead felt a strange rush at the touch of the Vulcan's fingers, as if there were a pulling sensation from her own mind reaching out to the mind that was reaching into hers. In an instant, she felt his familiar presence in her mind.

You feel my thoughts apart from yours, yet touching, came the mental words of the Vulcan directly to her. This is your sense of self. This is what you will use to build upon your first and last mental barrier. It is like your flesh fighting off the heat around you trying to penetrate and change your own internal temperature. Concentrate on who you are, what makes you different, unique from anything else in the universe but let it affirm itself by itself. Do not strain; just be conscious of yourself inward as you are outward.

Talking a breath and fighting back a wave in initial panic at her inability to keep Sonak out, Dox calmed herself down. As she focused on his words that resonated within her own mind, Dox tried to think of herself. To focus on herself as an individual.

But, as was standard for the emotionally chaotic young woman, her self image was a low one and concentrating on it positively on it was a challenge.

Placing her own hands on the warm, but simulated rock she sat on, she instead thought of her experience with Mona the other night. Remembering Mona's energy in her mind's eye, it appeared as a pulsing blue light. But before she could feel that light, she could see a faint red pulsing that steadily grew. Mona told her that the red light was Dox's own energy. That light was Mnhei'sahe Dox.

Concentrating, Dox calmed her mind and went back to how she felt in her quarters with Mona. She calmed her breathing and slowly, the heat of the room she was in seemed to almost fall back as that faint red glow began to appear in the darkness of her mind.

As that light began to come further into focus, pulsing with her breaths, she could see another light surrounding it. A field of coppery light she realized must be Sonak in her mind.

It was easy to see how that color could slowly but insiduously taint her own without her even noticing it. Yet, she was deeply aware of the difference.

Good, came the Vulcan's appreciative tought. You can easily differenciate yourself from another intrusive mind. All that you are, whatever you may think of it, is helping you do that. Be yourself; that is the key.

Although his mental glow was all around her purer reddish one, she could easily distinguish the two. Sonak's mind then began to exert a soft but steady pressure, as if his coppery aura tried to infuse itself into hers. Which it was. he was initiating a mind meld.

You will now start to build your first barrier; focus. You will focus your mind to exclude everything, including my own invasive one. Start counting the multiplication table... in Rihansuu... backwards.

While Dox had memorized star charts and could calculate trajectories and warp curves in her head, she struggled for the briefest of moments to recall the information requested and still try and focus on keeping Sonak's mind separate.

Instead, she felt a massive pull as the multiplication tables flooded into her mind,almost overwhelming her. In her minds eye, Sonak's coppery light had completely penetrated her own almost instantaneously.

She could hear a voice repeating the math backwards in her mind. But it wasn't her own or Sonak's. It was a blending if the two, as if the open gate if her mind simply drew Sonak inside like a beacon. A beacon just as Hera had described to the anxious young officer.

Unconsciously, she had pulled the information from Sonak's mind. And with him applying mental pressure, it made it that much easier to draw his mind into hers. Like someone pushing against a barrier, if the barrier were to simply vanish, the pusher would lurch forward.

Sonak's left eyebrow shot up as he felt his consciousness literally swallowed by the mind of the Romulan woman. It was like forcing open an unlocked door opening to a deep chasm. But just as swiftly, all his mental barriers went up and he willfully shoved himself backwards, both mentally and physically, breaking contact.

''Fascinating,'' he uttered after a moment. ''I understand now the true nature of your problem. On a psionic standpoint, you are like a sponge; any mind ... like water, to continue on the image, is absorbed by yours.''

He took a moment to reflect on this unexpected revelation before speaking again.

''A more accurate metaphor would be that of someone with neurasthenia; someone overwhelmed by too much information on one's hypersensitive senses. I would propose then that what you need are not as much mental barriers as mental discipline; to be able to block out unwanted thoughts and only keep those you want, mainly your own. That's what I actually did to... escape from our link.''

"Hnave..." Dox cursed in Rihan. "Escape? Are you okay?" Knowing Sonak well enough, Dox knew the logical Vulcan chose his every word carefully. Though she was partly caught on his words about her mental discipline and her concerns over how chaotic her mind was without her current dilemma.

''Do not worry; my mental discipline has been developped and perfected over decades,'' he reassured her.

He did not tell her however that he had even once successfully confronted a Talosian mind, a mind capable of projecting perfect multisensored illusions throughout the entire galaxy. Revealing this to her would simply had condemned her to death, as the very mere existence of the telepathic inhabitants of Talos IV would have put her under the shadow of Starfleet's General Order 7; the onlt death penalty in the book.

"So... so how do I do that?" She asked sheepishly.

''The same way you can isolate someone's voice in a noisy room; by concentrating on what you want to hear and discard everything else as background noise.''

He slowly and gently brought again his fingers to her head.

After what had just happened, Dox had to consciously stop herself from flinching out of a knee jerk fear.

''A Betazoid would usually be a better teacher than a Vulcan, for this particular training. Betazoids learn this technique as a matter of growing up when their broad telepathic perceptions suddenly awaken at puberty. However, I myself was such a wide area telepath until very recently. I have learned and mastered the same disciplines. If you allow it, I will impart those disciplines to you through a mind meld. Once I share with you the... feel of those techniques, you ahould be able to exercise and improve them with dilligent practice.''

The anxiety that lived in the pit of Dox's stomach tightened at the thought. Though Sonak had only just touched her she could already feel his presence. In her minds eye she could see his copper glow hovering around her own crimson flame, waiting.

Pressing the palms of her hands flat against the warm stone surface again, she took a deep breath to compose herself again. She concentrated on her own light as a separate think, focusing on it until she felt herself come back to an equilibrium. Once she felt stable again, she softly spoke. "Okay. I'm ready."

Sonak initiated the mind meld as slowly as he could, letting the Romulan woman feel every step of the mental contact, pausing each time he himself perceived her stability was about to fail, giving her time to adjust before continuing. This way she would be able to learn the process of focus he had briefly explained to her on a practical level; just like he had been tutored himself when, as a child, his mind was overwhelmed by the thoughts of everyone around him.

In his original universe, he had been born as telepathically powerful as a Betazoid, able to make contact without the need to touch. And like the rare betazoid child afflicted with such early extrasensory perception, his mind could have become unhinged with confusion and fear, had he not been Vulcan in the first place. The Early training in logic and emotion suppression prevented him from going mad; or hurting people around him with mental blasts and the limited telkinesis he was also endowed with, like legendary Vulcans of antiquity. Years of kolinarh discipline completed the process of control.

Thus, he was now quite ready to teach a nascent and powerful mind like that of Mnhei'sahe Dox to also deal with her condition.

With each step as Sonak moved closer into her mind, Dox felt her own sense of self slip slightly. It was like trying to walk on the slickest ice with each footstep wanting desperately to slip out from underneath. As his own mind reached into hers, she could feel his own effort to not slip in being carefully controlled.

In her mind's eye, she saw Sonak's copper glow grow steadily stronger as it slowly encircled her own red energy. As it got stronger, it wrapped around her own almost like a blanket in her mind until she could feel the warmth of his energy permeate her own. But instead of feeling overwhelmed, she instead felt less and the glow of his energy permeated hers. His logically structured mild was buttressing her own fragility inch by inch. Her mental calamity calmed to control under his mind's power. And instead of fighting or trying to maintain her emotions, she slowly and calmly allowed it to overtake her.

She was still herself. She was still Mnhei'sahe Dox. But she was also Sonak of Vulcan in that moment as his mind-melded with hers. His own thoughts floated within her own. His recently recalled memories of Talos. His own struggles with controlling his own abilities. His connection with Rita Paris. While they would all fade when the connection was broken, in the moment, they all simply were. In the space of the holodeck where their bodies were separate, she let out a slow sighing breath as their minds became one. Her anxiety and fears floated to Sonak along with the peace she drew from Mona Gonadie. The thoughts of each became intermingled in that moment as Sonak was now firmly in control of the meld and Dox's own mind no longer actively trying to absorb it.

We are one, then came the thought, both from Her and from the Vulcan. Now, find yourself; then, be yourself.

He was instructing her how to focus on her own psyche and through it weaken and break the meld herself. Like someone helping a swimmer to conquer one's fear of water, he prodded gently, showing her how to find herself and push against what was not by first weakening the bond himself, then reestablish it and make it a little bit less easy to do so each time she tried again.

It would be slow and mentally exhausting; but she could do it. because she had the will. And will was the key.

But from within, Dox could not separate in her mind where she ended and Sonak began. The voice telling her what to do seemed to float beneath Sonak's and her own. And she felt that same pulling sensation from before. It felt like a powerful tide beneath the waves of her consciousness tugging her down under the surface of everything that was Sonak. That unending pulling wanted Sonak's mind and was weakening Dox's resolve and sense of self for what felt like an eternity.

Looking into the light in her mind's eye, she couldn't see her own light anymore, only Sonak's. And she felt even that beginning to fade under the pressure of the pulling in her mind. In the simulated reality of the holodeck, Dox's muscles began to twitch and spasm slightly.

Within her mind, she heard Sonak's firm call to focus. As she listened, rather than seeking her own light, she simply imagined it. Remembered its color and its warmth. And she remembered the deep blue of Mona's energy and she wanted to go back to that. To feel that again. So she pressed harder against the sea of copper light in her mind. She pictured her own light, focusing on what she remembered it to be until it began to reform in the center of her mind's eye, flickering like the faintest flame.

But it was there. It was her. It was only her. She focused on that light as she took a deep breath and held it unconsciously. "I am... I am Mnhei'sahe Dox. I am only that." She thought, the words in her mind fanning the flame of her own inner glow until it began to press against Sonak's.

She repeated this over and over for what felt like an eternity, with Sonak relenting slightly then reinforcing his presence over and over. Her light dimmed then re-strengthened.

The effort was beyond exhausting as she struggled against his mind. In the holodeck, her hands against the simulated rock curled into fists against the warm stone they sat upon. In her mind's eye, her own crimson light grew stronger, pulsing. And with each pulse, it pushed hard against the copper light of Sonak's mind. Her exhaustion being pushed aside as her resolve grew to be whole onto herself again.

In reality, her body was sweating profusely as if undergoing a massive physical effort and her heart was pounding fasted with each passing second. In her mind, she continued to focus on her light and nothing else. She ignored the copper light of Sonak to only concentrate on her own energy. Her own self. Suddenly, with what felt like a great pulse that shook her form in the real world, that crimson light seemed to explode, filling her own mind and pushing everything else as she let out a scream.

The moment lasted but for a second that flet like an eternity. The scream of Mnhei'sahe came out of the mouth of Sonak as his emotionless mind, fused with that of the Romulan woman, caged the red glow with his copperish aura, compressed it until it bled blue light, brighter and deeper by the second. Then, there was nothing left but that pure blue glow... and slowly, it softly returned to a reddish color that fused into it to become a brilliant shade of purple, a thin copper aura around it.

We have found ourselves, said their jointed inner voice through both their mouths. We have found the way; the way to ourselves when we are open to others. We know the way. The walk is long and arduous. But we know the steps, long and hard like the steps to mount Seleya. We will climb them. And at the summit, among the winds and the heat, we will be ourselves.

Sonak now left it to her to finsih the exercise and break the meld. The first step. And every journey began with one.

But her strength was all but gone. What was left of Mnhei'sahe Dox struggled to open her eyes. Instead of the Vista generated by the Holodeck, she saw an arid, yellow sky. Sonak no longer sat across from her, but within her. He was her and she was him. The mind meld felt like a vice upon her, holding her in place.

Realizing she was now within the setting of Sonak's mind, she looked up to a towering rock face before her. Even her head felt heavy as if every possible movement was a struggle against Sonak's stillness in the real world.

"Climb the steps of Mount Seleya," the joined voice said as she strained to rise to her feet. Her knees shuddered, begging to release, but she rose. It felt as is Sonak wasn't within her, but clinging to her back like a lead weight trying to pull her back to the dry sand at her feet.

Before her she saw the first step appear through a thick, coppery mist that seemed to obscure her ability to focus. One step, she could see and no more. Taking as deep of a breath as the thin, dry air would allow, what was once Dox lifted her foot shuffling forward. Lifting it, her foot dragged up the side of the step and landed with a this that seemed to resonate with far more force against the stone than seemed possible.

Her knees crumbled under her impossible weight and she fell hard to them, scraping against the stone steps. On her hands and knees, she wanted to sob in agony but no tears came. Instead, she felt that same glorious purple light warm her from within, and shaking, she rose again.

Feet steady below her again, she began to climb. One step at a time, as they seemed to appear steadily in front stretching upward into infinity. But as she stepped, the view became more clear. The steps slightly less pained even though the climb felt as if it was taking an eternity.

In the expanse of the mindscape of Sonak's homeworld, the minutes stretched into hours into days into lifetimes. Many more times, she weakened and fell to her knees until the image of them in her mind ran green with her own blood.and every time, she focused on that purple light within and rose again. She no longer remembered quite how long she had been walking, when the unnatural, copper mists parted as the deep golden light of the Vulcan sunrise seemed to punch through as she stepped, stumbling forward finally through them, not to another step but to a landing.

Wobbling for a moment, her bloodied knees screamed at her to give up but she stayed on her feet as she looked around. She was at the summit.

Taking a deep breath of the thin, dry air of a world she had only ever orbited, she straightened herself up. Looking down, her knees were dry as if she has never fallen on them. Looking around, she felt only that purple warmth from within. She no longer felt the weight of Sonak pressing her down. She felt only her own mind. Turning around, she saw his figure standing beside her now, stoically. Not as as joined being but as an individual.

Back in the reality of the Holodeck, her eyes slowly opened.

They were still sitting one in front of the other, almost touching. But now, they were on top of the mountain.

''Well done,'' Sonak praised, his voice as deadpan as ever, yet filled with a definite appreciation if not genuine admiration. ''You will now be able to repeat this exercise as often as you wish without my help. The holodeck recorded our session and if you need it, you will be able to recreate it on your own. But this mental exercise can be recalled even in the confines of your own quarters. You have learned much today; a praise to the wisdom of my masters, the soul of your people... and the qualities of your being.''

Exhausted and somehow relaxed at the same time, Dox leaned back slightly on her hands. "T... Thank you. Thank you for everything."

''We come to serve,'' he simply stated, as always.

Looking around at the simulated Vista which, though perfect, seemed so much less real than the summit that has been projected into her mind. "This is Mount Seleya, on Vulcan? It's beautiful. Moving refugees, we orbited Vulcan more times than I can remember. But I've never been to the planet. Never been on Romulus either, for that matter. I always wanted to go to both."

''In the false reality whence i came, it has all been destroyed,'' he confided without any hint of emotion; and yet something stirring within him glazing his grey eyes for a moment. ''But now reality has been restored. This is an accurate recreation... but an illusion still. As long as you can tell, the real thing is always preferable. We might go there together someday. I could introduce you to the Masters of Gol; they would appreciate meeting you. And maybe one day we could also experience Romulus for the first time together.''

The drained young woman looked wistful as she spoke, no longer feeling any need to put on airs around the logical Vulcan. "I think I would like that very much. But for now... Through what you showed me... I feel like I've been here for real now. Thank you for that. It meant a lot."

''We have both grown from this shared experience. The student always becomes the master at one point. And so it has been today.''

"Well, like you said, it's a first step. But one I'm grateful to have not had to walk alone." Dox replied.

Sonak looked straight into her eyes.

''In Starfleet, Lieutenant, you are never alone.''

Walking back to the quarters she now shared with Ensign Mona Gonadie was a virtually herculean effort for Mnhei'sahe Dox after what she had just done.

Coming back from the Holodeck, Dox had just completed her first round of mental exercises with the Vulcan Kolinahr master, Lieutenant Sonak designed to help her defend her now opened mind from psychic attacks. It was an intense and exhausting exercise in will power and focus unlike anything the young Romulan woman had ever experienced in her life and it was but the first step in the process of restoring her minds mental defenses. Walking, her knees ached still with phantom pain from the journey up the steps of the projection of the Vulcan monument, Mount Seleya, recreated in her mind by Sonak. In her mind, she fell repeatedly in the attempt, blooding her knees. In the real world, though nothing had physically happened, she still felt the memory of that pain.

As she reached her quarters, the door wooshed open briskly and the warmth of the colors from within felt like a hug as she wobbled into the bedroom and flumped, face first, onto the large nest that she shared as her bed with Mona. Her weak voice muffled by the bedding, she called out with a certain cartoonish exaggeration, playing up her very real fatigue, "Mona? Are you home?"

"I'm here!" Mona was in the restroom finishing up with her evening grooming. "How was your training?" Coming out of the restroom, she cocked her hips to the side with one hand on them. "You look exhausted."

Without actually lifting her head off of the bed, Dox groaned. "Exhausting doesn't quite do it justice. It's amazing that you can basically sit in one spot for a while thinking really, REALLY hard and be this sore and tired. It was like running a thousand marathons in my mind... with Sonak sitting on my back."

"And to think, my people can supposedly have marathon sex like that if the bond is strong enough," Mona muttered as she slipped into their nest with her love, snuggling up and thrumming softly.

Rolling slightly onto her side to lean into Mona's embrace AND get off of her own face, Dox chuckled slightly at the idea before she got a little more serious. "Thank you, by the way. I don't think I could have done what I did in there without you. You... were there with me."

"Of course, Minay. I'm in your cracks and you're in mine. We will never be alone again," Mona replied simply as if that explained everything.

Closing her eyes, Dox thought about it for a second and elaborated as she pulled her hand up to hold Mona's. As she touched, there was a slight feeling of the rush she felt in her mind when Sonak began connecting to her. Suddenly, the connection she struggled so hard to find the other night was almost instantaneous. "It was your energy. You left it in me. He was trying to force a mind meld so I could learn how to force him out. And... I tried to focus on my own sense of self. I pictured that red energy that I could see in my mind's eye, but it wasn't enough. His energy just permeated it completely. That... gate... thing just pulled his energy into mine and I couldn't stop it."

As she described the event, she pictured it as it happened, "But then, from out of my own light, your blue light appeared. It came bursting out and merged with mine. It became a single, purple light that kept his own energy out. it was... it was amazing."

As Dox described it, the image filled her mind as she felt a warmth overtake her from within. She smiled as she realized the image in her mind's eye wasn't a memory, but what was happening in that very moment as they touched. The two colors of light had begun to swirl together in her mind and effortlessly became a brilliant purple again.

Laying in bed, Mona's thrumming resonated through Dox's being and she tucked herself tighter against her Miradonian mate, almost thrumming herself as a gentle moan pressed out of her. She could feel not only Mona's body pressing against hers, but her own body pressed against Mona's as if she was Mona. And while she didn't understand how she was doing it, she understood what she was doing. Subconsciously, effortlessly, she was mind melding with Mona through their newfound connection.

But this was different from the mind melds she had experienced with Sonak. With Mona's own abilities linking them on an entirely different level, Dox simply ceased to exist in that moment as a separate entity as her essence fused itself to Mona's. It was a bonding beyond what she knew of any mind meld, and perhaps more than what Mona had described that her people were capable of.

This was more than Mona had heard about. She had been told it was a sharing of emotions and feelings, but this was as if they were two beings becoming one. She could feel her blues and her Minay's reds swirling together into a beautiful purple love and it allowed her to feel connected to her love in ways she never thought possible. Was this what her mother had meant when she had spoken of the 'true bond'? Being able to feel yourself through your mate? Getting confused on which one of you was whom? If this was the 'true bond', she loved it and she loved her Minay even deeper for it.

In the moment, as the two became one for the time, there was nothing between them. Each thought and feeling was shared and their minds gave strength and comfort to the other. But it was also an overwhelming experience for their first time, and with Dox already past to point of exhaustion, it was entirely too comforting. Gently, She drifted to sleep in Mona's arms as her own mind, swirled and merged, brought Mona along with her.

Together, the two that were one drifted to sleep together. And for the first time in what felt like a lifetime for either woman, both slept free of nightmares.

It generally caused a stir when an officer strolled into the mess hall.

It caused more of a stir when the officer in question was Commander Rita Paris.

The woman was singularly;y unique, in more ways than one. She was tall- 185 cm in uniform, though a good seven and a half of those were in the thick-soled chunky-heeled explorer's boots she wore, which protected her up to her knees. The short skirt of the minidress looked challenged to keep her rear covered, but matching briefs underneath had long been a part of the uniform, for Starfleet's more bounteous servicewomen. At least, in the 2260 model uniform she wore, in command gold.

These days command was crimson. But Rita was stubborn, and the Captain was accommodating.

Three pips studded the left side of the loose black V-neck collar of her uniform, a nod to modern rank decorum, making her identifiable, After all, no one on modern starships could be expected to interpret the two braided stripes on her wrists as a commander's rank.

Buxom and bouncy, she also marched with martial purpose, moving with her long-legged stride through the room. She turned heads and she caught the eye, and even with the return of the colorful uniforms of yore to modern Starfleet, the anachronistic astronaut stood out in a crowd. Particularly as an officer in enlisted country, a seemingly omnipresent PaDD clutched at her hip.

Once she reached the line, the commander got in line behind a fire controlman, who offered for her to go ahead, but she declined. Since she was here on a mission, she reasoned she may as well review things from the enlisted side and see how the galley was treating them with real food.

Deep Space Nine had been a charming station, a lot larger and more updated than his old posting several years ago on K-7, yet still there was an uplifting sense that came over him when he cleared the docking rink, crossed the threshold and set foot aboard the Hera. There was a ton to do and not a lot of time to do it. No sooner had he set foot on the USS Hera, the starship was requesting permission to release the moors. The Nebula class starship eased away from the station and when safely away from DS9, she jolted off at high warp.

Petty Officer Cicero Delacroix was a several months shy of his thirtieth birthday, but nevertheless this felt like an early gift to him. A new posting was always fresh, whether the starship or space station be of a new class and design, or be something that has been aged with time like a fine wine. The USS Hera seemed to be like the latter, an older mature woman of a starship who still got her nose dirty but always came out on top, surviving another day.

On the ninth deck of the fine starship were two mess halls; There was a mess for officers and a mess for enlisted crew. Cicero had been bouncing from deck to deck section to section giving himself a quick tour and checking on storage and supplies as well as a close inspection of the mess halls. He had stopped at a computer terminal to download the deck listing of the USS Hera specifically. Though Nebula class starships were mass produced in years past, they were not always identical from one another. Various pods could be attached to the starship's hull for mission specific parameters, and interior customization had become rather commonplace with starship classes that had seen multiple refits over their lengthy service.

Cicero was leaning over a table in the crew mess reading through the PaDD with deck listing information when the First Officer walked in. "Saucer Section...deck one conference room and observation deck. Deck five has VIP accommodations. Then there's here on deck nine with the officer's mess and crew mess. Deck ten has Ten Forward. There's banquet halls located on deck eleven. Deck seventeen of the saucer sections contains the upper mess decks and deck twenty of the saucer section has the lower mess decks" he muttered to himself. He let out an whistle of impression. "That's a lot of culinary space" he said to himself.

He looked up when a flash of goldenrod or mustard yellow caught his attention. Antiquity had walked through the doors and was on her way straight to towards him, and Miss Antiquity had curves and a rank. It was Commander.

"Hello there, Commander" he said breaking away from the table to greet her. He was a little shy at first because not only was she stunning, but she was also a high ranking officer and from what he surmised, this lady was the First Officer. Cicero practically stood at attention for her. "Were you on the holodeck, Sir?" he asked taking note of her uniform. "If I recall my history correctly....twenty third century Starfleet uniform...2260s?" he said with some hesitation. He thought he was correct but he wasn't going to wager a bet.

"Well spotted, Petty Officer... Delacroix?" The Commander glanced at her Padd in confirmation, but refocused back on the moment and the encounter, extending her hand for a handshake and offering a winning smile. "Hello, I'm Rita Paris, the first officer of the Hera. Welcome aboard." Her enthusiasm seemed genuine, and the woman seemed surprisingly good-natured.

The half Napean lit up with delight. The woman's last name brought on a nostalgia for a place he considered close to home in his heart. He could taste the Parisian cuisine in his mouth. The chocolate mousse, the macarons, and the wine. He extended his hand taking hers and gave a fine handshake. "Paris" he said and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Ah Oui" he said the accent he had acquired from his years in the old French region of Earth slipped through. "Just like the city" he added.

He found the woman to be warm and inviting and though she hadn't permitted him to ease verbally, he felt his muscles relax naturally with her presence. "Commander Paris, it is my honor and a pleasure to meet you and to be serving on this fine starship. Petty Officer Cicero Delacroix, Culinary Specialist at your service. You're welcome to call me anything that's easiest for you, Sir. I'm somewhat used to 'Cis' from my last posting, but I'm not married to it."

"I'll be frank, I have a tendency to refer to the crew by their rank, titles or an honorific, so I'll bear the nickname in mind, Chef." The Commander gestured for the new crewman to have a seat, and she did the same. "As for the rest, mai ouis, tout comme la ville. I'm an earth girl, born and raised in San Francisco, but my family is most certainly French in origin. As for the uniform, you'll find that I'm a bit of a throwback. According to official records, I was lost in a transporter accident in 2260, onboard the USS Constitution. I'll give you a moment to digest that before I start in on my questions." Establishing just whom he was dealing with and giving him a feel for her command style, the easygoing executive looked around for where to get a cup of coffee.

Cicero nodded and smiled politely. "Sir, I meant nothing by it. I've been called Chef, Petty Officer, and various other things over the years. Some people are more formal and others informal. Command styles from one place to another don't line up perfectly and I'll be in one place where the Captain practically wears a leisure suit off duty and another where they are never seen out of uniform. I have several duties as Culinary Specialist, Sir. One of those jobs includes making sure all the crew are as comfortable as can be within reason. So, whatever you are comfortable addressing me as, I'll come answering to it with a pep in my step and a sense of urgency when necessary," he explained to her.

The 2260 transporter accident did not really phase him. "Say no more, Commander. Transporter accidents, cryogenics, stasis fields...I've been into the Delta Quadrant. I've been to several dozen worlds and met some of the strangest species humanoid and non-humanoid. This is Starfleet, weird is part of the job" he said with a smile. "I don't need a moment, but you look like you may just need a little something to perk you back up...long shift, Commander?"

"Not yet, but it will be. I'm glad to hear your attitude, Chef. The Hera is very Starfleet in that odd things happen and we do our best to make the most of the situation and come out the other side with the best possible outcome. We succeed most of the time, and well," the throwback officer chuckled, crossing her legs in a scissoring motion. "We're still here."

"This is your onboarding packet," the Hera's resident Lost Navigator explained, handing over the tablet she'd brought with her. "Deckplans, some basic information, chain of command and such. It also has your appointments- you'll need to meet with the ship's physician for your mandatory onboarding physical, and you'll need to meet with the captain, of course. Beyond that I apologize for not meeting you when you came aboard- we got a mission and had to move, and I found myself needed on the bridge. I've assigned you berthing here on Deck 9, as both galleys are here, and we've enough room that NCOs rate their own quarters. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised by the size of the accommodations as well as the matter allotments. Any questions for me?"

Cicero took the onboarding packet and started giving it a skimming of a read. However, he was paying most of his attention on the woman. "I can definitely handle the galleys in deck nine" he said softly. "I will be sure to see the ship's physician as soon as I finish up here. No apology necessary, Commander. I know how busy things can be on starships. I've noticed there are several banquet halls, messes, and the Ten Forward Lounge. Would you like me to keep my focus on deck nine or branch out and oversee the other areas as well?"

"For now, get your feet wet," the girl anachronism explained in an incredibly dated metaphor. "Captain's Table tends to be handles by the Captain's wife. Ten-Forward tends to be just replication at this point, so just oversight should be fine until you get your sea legs with the Hera. In truth, I'd rather see you focus on the Enlisted and Officer's galleys. They are interconnected by the rather prodigious kitchen between them, so it's easy to oversee. Honestly, it seems most of these modern crewmen grew up eating replicated food, so you might be surprised how much actual cooked food goes into the reclamator every day. But maybe you can change all of that- or change it a bit, at least." Realizing that she might be setting too high a bar, Paris restructured the orders.

"The crew know the fresh food option exists. Your primary function is to give them that option and perhaps expand their culinary horizons a bit. How you choose to go about that is entirely up to you. Take care of the crew and support them is your goal, and the expectation of the command staff." There. now she's set expectations, which was a big part of what she hadn't covered, and she was grateful for the Chef's questions. "Out of curiosity, where did you go to school? What are your specialties?"

Cicero nodded as he fully understood. "I appreciate this assignment and I can work within those guidelines, Commander" he said in response to the bit of information she gave. "Hopefully with my being aboard they will stop depending so heavily on the replicators and become more aware of the more natural and fresher options that I can prepare for them" he added.

"Schooling" he said briskly. "Well, I attended school on Earth. It's a smaller place called Walnut Hill College. I learned both cooking and baking to which I would say I prefer baking, but cooking is more of a required skill in the positions I've had. My specialty is French cuisine, but I have taken a particular interest in vegetarian dishes. When you serve with enough Vulcans, you learn to make the most out of your vegetables...albeit at the expense of losing your heavy hand with seasoning."

That brought forth a good-natured giggle, barely repressed. “I can certainly understand that. Well, we have a rather large hydroponics lab so you should be able to grow whatever produce you wish in conjunction with the Science department, and serve as you see fit. Vegetarian is not an uncommon diet onboard starships, so that will be not at all unwelcome on the Hera. Heck, I wouldn’t mind learning a recipe or two. I’m a fair cook, but self-taught, and I am always on the lookout for vegetarian Earth cuisine.”

“So what are your goals in hurling yourself out here into the black with Starfleet?” The question seemed directed and confrontational, but the cheerful commander asked in a casual manner, as if just making conversation instead of interrogating a new crewman. “Everyone has different reasons for leaving home. Studying on an alien world to learn cuisine then signing into Starfleet to serve in the fleet isn’t the most common of career paths. So what drove you out here, Mr. Delacroix?”

Cicero blushed and his dark eyes locked onto the woman. "It's true. You do not typically find cooks, chefs, culinary specialists and such serving in Starfleet let alone on starships. There's a higher need on planetary bases and on space stations, especially massive ones" he admitted. He could not really say otherwise. It was true given the replicators and even before then, some form of food synthesizer had been in service.

"Commander, I know that it may sound strange. Why would a young man at the beginning of his culinary training leave Earth and sign up for Starfleet?" he said somewhat paraphrasing her. "Well, I think the simple, short, and sweet explanation is that I simply wanted adventure or I wanted to make a difference and help people. You cannot really make a difference or help people by working in the kitchen of a civilian restaurant" he said with the short story.

He knew she deserved more than the brochure description. "My parents wanted me to follow in their footsteps. They wanted me to do what Napeans do" he said carefully. "I'm half of course, but Napeans join Starfleet as scientist, engineers, and physicians. Some of us have made terrific counselors, but my passion is cooking. It's artistic and it's expressive, but I still want to help people and do it by doing what I love and enjoy. Starfleet provides me with that opportunity and what Chef can say they were out on the front lines encountering new species and civilizations...making the next greatest trendy culinary discovery."

As the new crew member spoke, a smile spread across the face of the fulsome first officer. “That’s why I joined myself, all those years ago. Space was more of a frontier then, but the reasons are still the same. I have to admit, I’m very glad to hear that’s why you’ve come to join us, Chef. I think you’ll find that you will experience all that and more, and the Hera is full of surprises.”

“You’ve answered all of my questions, and I feel I have enough to work with here. Do you have any questions for me, Chef? Open floor, ask away, permission to speak freely and all that.” If the woman’s cheerful casual air mixed with official purpose were ingenuine, she’d have to be an amazing liar. While some might offer an opportunity as entrapment, she seemed to be genuine in her offer.

He nodded before proceeding. "I do not mean to be rude, but was it difficult...adjusting to it all. Your temporal displacement I mean or whatever it was that caused you to be taken from the 23rd century and thrown into the late 24th century?"


“Fair question. As for how it happened, let;'s just say that I'm not overly fond of transporters and leave it at that. As for the adjustment... it was… it IS a difficult adjustment, really,” Paris admitted. “I’m forever discovering historical fact that everyone takes for granted. I literally had to study up on one of my old classmates at the Academy, because he accomplished quite a bit after I stopped keeping track of his already impressive career, and now it’s the stuff of galactic legend that any schoolchild knows. The technology is both intimidating yet somehow easier to use. Starfleet has changed, but they seem to be getting back to the core values of my day.”

“Captain Telvan recognized that I could still contribute, and she banked on her faith in me. Leadership, it seems, is timeless- the lessons I learned then are just as applicable now,” Paris explained simply. “There are still bright young sentients who wish to join, to contribute, to make a difference as we explore the mysteries and wonders of the universe. Who will need someone to make the calls, counsel them, and be held up an example of what a Starfleet officer should be. I fill that role to the best of my ability… just as I’m sure you will with yours.”

Standing, hands reflexively tugging down the hem of her antique minidress uniform as she did so, the comely commander offered her take on the conversation in a frank and forthright manner, which was apparently the woman’s default setting. “You’re good at drawing people out- I think we’re quite fortunate to have you working the galley, and I hope that you’ll find time to get to know the crew and interact with them. My better half once remarked that humans bond emotionally over the sharing of food, and I’ve certainly found it to be true. I think with you onboard we may see some of those bonds grow closer, and I genuinely look forward to seeing that come to pass.”

"Commander, I look forward to serving this starship and this crew. I look forward to getting them know me and me getting to know them" he said. "It is going to be an experience. That is for certain, and I can only imagine what it feels like to be ripped away from everything you knew and were used to. Then, to be spat out in a place similar but different" he added.

He looked at the woman with respect and admiration. "Some skills are timeless, Commander. I hope to have the opportunity on the USS Hera to show to the crew that I have much more to offer than designing menus and serving food."

Petty Officer Cicero Delacroix had already inspected the galleys on deck nine and was able to have the pleasure of meeting the First Officer of the USS Hera, a busty woman with a curvy figure as robust as her personality. Cicero found her to be regimented yet also lax at the same time. It was a curious balance, and he was looking forward to getting to know her further. She had also given him specific instructions to see the starship's physician so that he could get his medical records up to date and physical completed.

Cicero walked into Sickbay pleasantly enough and rather quietly. He did not know who the Chief Medical Officer was, but he saw someone with rather vibrant hair and fascinating features. They were quite striking. "I'm sorry. Pardon me" he said to the individual whom he assumed was a nurse or physician seeing the lieutenant pips on their uniform. "Could you perhaps direct me to the Chief Medical Officer? I just spoke with Commander Paris and they wanted me to come down here for my physical."

“Hi there, you found them,” Asa replied brightly. “Sorry, I meant to greet you at reception, just got a little held up fine-tuning a biodbed. The darn thing kept dinging for no real reason every time someone has a base temperature above 39 degrees. Which is absurd,” Asa concluded, sending a withering glare at the recalcitrant piece of equipment.

Motioning for Petty Officer Delacroix to follow them, Asa went to a functional biobed and asked him to take a seat. Picking up a nearby PaDD, Asa reviewed the file in their hands. They had reviewed it in depth before, but it never hurt to freshen ones memory.

“Well, I see you passed your physicals before with flying colors, all vaccines are up to date, and you have been cleared by Intel Command. However, it seems that you have a slight nutritional deficit- perhaps not enough calcium- easily remedied. Difficulty with calcium absorption seems to be part of your human ancestry, so I recommend a monthly supplement just to keep you in the clear. Sound fair?”

He smiled at the physician. "Who am I to argue with Doctor's orders?" he offered playfully. "Heck, I don't think anyone really can. You have yourself a pretty powerful position as ship's physician" he added. "Calcium deficiency...I'll accept that as a relatively clean bill of health. It sounds fair enough to me" stated Cicero.

"I'm a culinary specialist" he said in case they wasn't aware. "They have me working out of deck nine tending to the enlisted and officer messes" explained Cicero. "Is there anything I should be made aware of? Anybody with severe food allergies or a overall notable deficiency with the crew?"

“Oh, absolutely, clean bill of health,” Asa chimed in response. “I don’t really see it as a position of power, just one of making sure Sickbay serves the crew to the best of our abilities, and of giving the crew the tools they need to be empowered in their health. Now, common deficiencies, hmmmmm,” Asa trailed off, thinking for a moment.

“You may or may not have noticed, we have quite a few pregnant crew members, so I would say to expect a few weird requests in the coming months, what with cravings and all. Calcium deficiency is the most common thing the crew needs by and large. I actually have quite a few people on supplements, but extra calcium and iron, especially for the pregnant humans, are always a good thing. Our resident Vulcans tend towards the blander food, but I’m sure you know that. Hera has a stock pile of non-replicated foods in stasis when she needs them- she thrives better that way, something about psionic energy being rejuvenated. The Captain’s wife, Maica, has been our hostess extraordinaire for the last few officer’s meals, so it might be a good idea to ask her opinion. What about you? Do you have any goals my department can help with?”

He smiled at the Chief Medical Officer. "I will be sure to make a mental note of all of that and quickly get myself to a PaDD and start making a written record of it" he said half jokingly. He was most certainly going to take that information and get it down. "Oh I have had my share of Vulcans. They remind me constantly if I dare put a smidge of salt or other seasoning in their food. If looks could stun" he said with a small chuckle and sigh.

"Prenatal dietary needs. I will definitely be sure to remember that and take it into consideration, Doctor" he noted politely. He looked at the Chief Medical Officer "I'm currently studying hospitality, but I have always had sort of an interest in dietary science. Do you happen to have a dietitian on staff that I could meet with regularly...just to make sure I'm getting all the needs of the crew met."

“Of course, Lieutenant JG Peggy McBride joined us recently after graduating from Starfleet Medical with her PA in dietary studies. She reviews the meals being completed by the replicators for nutritional standards among other her other duties. I’m sure she will be happy to visit with you. I’ll make an introduction tomorrow if you like, say around 1600? Maybe the two of you can find a way to make the ‘pickle marshmallow sandwich’ that Mrs. Carrott keeps asking for be anything other disgusting nutrition-less yuck. But I am not willing to fight that pregnant person on what she wants to eat. Last time I suggested midnight ice cream might be causing her gas she almost took my arm off.”

Nearby a tall red-headed man smiled broadly before saying, “Hey now Doc, if my wife fancies eating your arm, well, you can grow another.”

Rolling their eyes, Asa responded, “Carrott, I’ll fed her you next time,” in a jovial tone.

Goodnaturedly muttering to himself about “everyone gangs up on poor Carrott,” the Ensign resumed the sanitation protocol of a nearby biobed he was working on.

“Sorry about that, “Asa said to Delacroix, “We deal with a lot of pain around here, so we try to keep each other laughing when we can. I hope you always feel comfortable speaking to anyone on my staff, and I hope you know my door is always open for you. So, tomorrow with McBride?”

Cicero nodded. "Tomorrow with McBride. I will be there" he said in response. "That sandwich sounds...peculiar, but I might just have to try it myself and see what I think. Though I don't foresee it becoming a daily special" he teased.

"Hey, as long as I'm not eating it, everyone else can have their fill, " Asa rejoined. "Welcome aboard, Petty Officer Delacroix. I can't wait to see what you cook up."

"Thank you, Doctor" he replied with a joyful smile. "I solemnly swear not to send anyone running to Sickbay due to my cooking" added Cicero.

The dreamscape was a shifting reality, a pastiche of images and memories, of imagination and experiences blending together in the subconscious mind to create an odd wonderland in which the mind could unwind, process, and fantasize.

In the case of Rita Paris, the life she’d led brought forth some unique dreams indeed.

Sleeping beside her logical husband, their minds would touch, and while he could dream, the Master of Gol’s orderly mind understood it was dreaming. Thus he could, of course, control his dreams or direct them, the better to process whatever lurked in his subconscious. Which he shared with her as they slept, as he shared all of his logical self with his emotional spouse as much or as little as she desired. It was one of the things about him which she treasured, for her own mind was nowhere near as orderly or disciplined as that of the kolinahr, and the fact that he shared of himself was an enormous sacrifice on his part.

To him, there was no sacrifice- he loved her, and found her fascinating, thus he shared willingly of himself.

Tonight, as she lay in the bed they shared, she rolled over, breaking contact with the logical and orderly mind, leaving her to her own devices. Usually finding herself adrift, it was not long until she would reach out for him, to reassure herself on a subconscious level that he was still there, as well as the fact that she herself existed in three dimensions as matter. After all, it had been a problem for her more than once in her life. Being transformed into energy more than once had left an indelible mark upon her psyche, after all.

Which was unsurprising. The surprising part was the degree to which she was now stable and in control of herself. Few had experienced what she had in her lifetime, which now covered a span of closer to two centuries than her biological age. Not an impressive feat for many life forms in the galaxy, but for a plain old Human girl from Earth in the early days of the 23rd century, it was quite the accomplishment.

As her mind wandered, she heard her father’s voice… no clear distinct words, just the general impression of disapproval, of being lesser, of being insufficient. As words of praise had never come from her father, the only parental figure who had influenced her life, in her dreams he became just a fog of disdain and demoralization, of denouncement and desultory dismissiveness. The voice of her brother joined into the chorus, adding his own taunting and the casual cruelty so common to children.

Never did Rita Paris dream of her mother, revisiting the handful of memories that she had carried into adulthood of the woman who had died young and left her to fend for herself in the universe. While she managed to befriend women, and had no trouble relating, still on some level did she wish to find comfort from a maternal figure. Even the goddess of motherhood and women could not fulfil that role for her, recovering as she was from centuries of being an interstellar tyrant. As that thought drifted through her mind, she closed the door on that emotional outreach. As with other women she had sought such reassurance from over the decades, there was no emotional succor for her there, so she contained that need and packed it away, walling it off from the rest of her mind.

Instead it formed her resolve to someday be a good mother to children of her own. Not to repeat the mistakes of her father, to raise her children to feel good about themselves, to never feel alone, to have a foundation of love and support from which to launch themselves into the universe, and a family legacy of adventure. In her mind, she already had names, and she often wondered in dreams who they might be, the next generation of adventurers she would raise with her calm, logical and supportive spouse. Her children would have a balance in parenting, and while she would teach them discipline, they would never want for love.

In her dreams, she recalled the image in the news story the young android Kodria had showed her, of Enalia Telven terminating herself in 30 years’ time, and the warning that came with it. Should she slay her own mother in the tribunal that was coming, it would destroy her, making her into the monster with which she battled. This caused her no end of consternation, as she struggled with the dual nature of the pirate princess turned Starfleet captain. Having watched Mnhei’sahe Dox drawn into that world as well made her feel that she was losing ground, and in her dreams she concocted scenarios that ended poorly.

The responsibility of averting a future tragedy when the participants continued moving in directions she deemed negative weighed heavily upon her, and her limbs twitched as her mind played out dramas of what might be, in the world to come.

Eventually, she rolled back over, her soul disturbed and alone, seeking comfort in the touch of the one who never made her feel lesser, never made her feel insufficient, and celebrated their coming together as equals. As her jangled and chaotic dreamscape connected to the deep and solid order of the mind of Sonak of Vulcan, she calmed almost immediately, the dreams and voices and feelings in her head finding structure and order in his mind.

Drifting back into a deep and dreamless slumber, she sighed in contentment as she snuggled closer to the last kolinahr of a reality that never was, seeking the warmth of his higher body temperature.

Which was secondary to the relief and reassurance that she was no longer alone… and would never be alone again.

The Sickbay conference room was quite large, and Chief Medical Officer Doctor Dael was feeling a bit intimidated as they set up the room for their first departmental meeting. Things had been non-stop on the Hera since they joined, and the department had kept pace admirably. However, there were currently 22 pregnant crew members on the Hera, all of which were slated to give birth in the next 5 months. This was unprecedented for the ship, and although Asa felt confident in their staff, they wanted to make sure the entire department was on the same page for the coming challenge.

Doctor Dael had placed water pitchers and glasses on the conference table, making sure each crew member would have easy access to one. There was a PaDD at each chair, and a small buffet of popcorn, nuts, fruits, and seeds was at the back of the room. The schematics for the newly updated birthing wing of Sickbay displayed on a monitor at the head of the room, and the text “Operation: Baby Boom” was overlaid on the schematic. Scale models of birthing stations and equipment had been replicated and placed on the table as well, and a large whiteboard was next to where Asa would be leading the meeting.

The board was divided into 3 sections, one labeled “Physical Needs”, one labeled “Psychological Needs”, and one labeled, “Questions for Later”. The room set up complete, Asa went to their seat, smiling and prepared to greet the attendee’s as they came in.

The Anear nurse was the first through the door. She still had a smile on her face that hadn't left her since her bounding ceremony. " Hello, doctor. You're looking well today. " She said as she took her seat at the table.

“As are you,” Asa returned the greeting warmly. “It would seem bonded life agrees with you, Ensign.”

It was wonderful to see Tathaa looking so happy, Asa thought. The anear had seemed a bit nervous in the days leading up to the ceremony to Asa’s eyes, but perhaps that was part of the process. She seemed to be glowing now, and Asa looked forward to the day the Thex, Tathaa and their two other as-yet-unmet partners could welcome young ones of their own.

" It does." The white girl said as she poured herself a drink of water. " Looks like we have a lot of planning to doo."

"I have to agree on both counts," the EMH replied, entering as well. "Fortunately, we're well trained for this sort of thing. Congratulations on your bonding ceremony, Ensign."

" Thank you, doctor. " The Anear replied as she took a drink.

“Agreed entirely, Doctor,” Asa said with a smile

In short order the rest of the medical crew filed in, taking places as they desired. It was interested to Asa’s eyes to see how many friendships among the staff obviously carried over into their off hours as well. They were glad of this and hoped to continue to foster an environment of caring.

Ensign Carrott sat near Ensign Vimes, both of them fidgeting with some the scale models of birthing forceps used for a breach Ferengei birth. Asa had included that knowing that Yeoman Klur’s pregnancy had been difficult, but with a fervent hope that she would not be breach. The unconventional yeoman was one of the few planned pregnancies on the Hera, and a Ferengei-human child may have an….interesting delivery.

As was his wont, Ensign Carrott was still a bit in shock that his new bride was pregnant as well, only in her second trimester, but far sooner than the couple had anticipated upon their matrimony. Doctor Dael wasn’t entirely sure if that had been a shotgun wedding or not, but supported their choice to build a family together, and had full confidence Carrott would eventually adjust to the idea. Ideally before the child was born.

Standing to address the room, Asa began the meeting.

“Welcome everyone, thank you all for being here. As you each know, we currently have more pregnancies on board than any other ship in the fleet. This presents us with a unique challenge and opportunity to serve the crew. This is an important time in the life of not only the child and parents, but for the social structures around them also. We have an unprecedented opportunity to foster a loving environment for 22 new lives on the Hera, and I know each of you is up to the task. The goal for the day is to review the logistics of each person’s birth needs and plan, as well as to brainstorm if they are receiving the emotional and environmental support they need. The new nurseries have already been added, for which we can thank Commander Paris, and the birthing stations in Sickbay have all been updated to the most current technology available. We, the people, are the last bit remaining. So let’s make sure we get it right, ok?”

Asa pulled up the file for the crew member most likely to give birth first, a Bajoran Lieutenant Junior Grade Kiara. The LJG had been vocal in her annoyances at the sneezing fits common to Bajoran pregnancies, but was also stalwart in her assertion that minimal medications be used. The group reviewed the details of the pregnancy and then broke off to work simulations of her birth plan, both with and without known complications.

Once that was done, the groups came back together to review the next crew members file and break out into practice sessions. Asa reiterated the importance of customizing the experience to each person- taking into account their unique medical needs, personal preferences, religious practices, and a variety of other factors. The groups brainstormed ways to improve upon what they did by comparing notes, coming to a unified front on each birth plan.

Satisfied with progress so far, Asa drew the group back together, and pointed to the white board.

“Ok, everyone has done an exceptional job so far. But I want us to go above and beyond, as each of you always do. So, let’s look at it. What are we missing? Let’s call out any physical or emotional needs that we are missing, both for the birth as well as the recovery and bonding stage with the child. Any questions that we can’t answer immediately, we put in the other column. I’m going to start. Ensign Ogg is going to be a single parent since their partner elected to not be part of the child’s life and has transferred off the ship. What plans do we have in place to help them and their child flourish? Throw any ideas you got out there people, there are no wrong answers right now.”


“Ok, everyone has done an exceptional job so far. But I want us to go above and beyond, as each of you always do. So, let’s look at it. What are we missing? Let’s call out any physical or emotional needs that we are missing, both for the birth as well as the recovery and bonding stage with the child. Any questions that we can’t answer immediately, we put in the other column. I’m going to start. Ensign Ogg is going to be a single parent since their partner elected to not be part of the child’s life and has transferred off the ship. What plans do we have in place to help them and their child flourish? Throw any ideas you got out there people, there are no wrong answers right now.”

“Um, this may be dumb…” Carrott began, fumbling a bit before continuing, “But my wife gets really cranky unless I rub her feet. Um, is anyone making sure Ensign Ogg doesn’t need little stuff like that done? I mean, not that I want to rub her feet, but, maybe she needs a massage appointment? Or someone to move stuff around in her quarters to make room for the furniture? Or something?”

Going to write under “Physical Needs” Asa jotted down “Check-ins on personal wellbeing,” then under “Psychological Needs,” drew an arrow across to include the item in this section as well, directly beneath it writing “Sense of Community Support.”

“Great starting point, what else do we have?” they said, hoping to encourage the nervous ensign to speak his mind more freely.

Nurse Vimes cleared her throat before speaking. The matronly woman spoke with confidence fitting her years and knowledge. This batch of children would not be the first she helped bring into the galaxy, and having successfully raised one of her own, she knew her opinions held weight among the mostly-younger crowd on the Hera.

“It occurs to me that although the entire ship is aware of the baby boom we are about to experience, nothing has been done to celebrate these new lives. Of course some people like Mr. Carrott here have made sure the parent of their child feels cherished, but what have we done as a whole to make it clear to the expectant parents that their little ones are not a burden, but a blessing?” As she spoke, Vimes gently patted Carrott’s hand in a reassuring, matronly manner.

Asa paused a moment, considering. They realized that they had been so wrapped up in the logistics of birthing plans, recommending cribs, programming formula into replicators, juggling side effects and complications that they had completely overlooked the impact to crew morale that may be occurring.

Some counselor you are, Asa. Great job. Way to forget that life changing experiences for a chunk of the crew all at once may impact ship morale as a whole. the doctor internally berated themself.

After writing “Baby Party?” on the “Questions for later” section, Dr. Dael responded, “Thank you, Nurse Vimes, you are correct. We have a responsibility as the spearhead of mental and physical health on the Hera to make sure morale stays high and that we foster a welcoming environment. I understand on Earth expectant parents often have ‘Baby Showers’, which is to say a party to accept gifts for the child and celebrate the upcoming birth. Perhaps a ship-wide shower? Thoughts?”

The EMH piped up. "That would be good for ship-wide morale, but I'm more concerned about the medical staff's morale. With so many pregnant and so few of us signed off on delivery and childbirth procedures, I suggest we begin cutting back hours and beginning six hour rotations with six hour standby and furthering training for full coverage in case we have to deliver three or even four children at once. I may not need to rest and have full training, but the rest of the staff needs to be fully rested at all times and have the expertise needed, just in case."

The anear noded as had been quietly taking notes. The EMH's suggestion was a good one. " Should we split the team up further and have some of us concentrate on the particular birthing habits?" She added.

“Another good idea,” Asa replied, “But I want everyone to have knowledge on each person’s birthing plan still. So let’s have each crew member with four staff members specializing with their case, including the birth plan and post-natal follow ups, which should allow each member of Sickbay to focus on three to four cases. Break them up by expected delivery dates, don’t bunch all four cases up that are due around the same time, and practice those first. Once you have your cases down, move on to practicing everyone else’s. We need both expertise and redundancy here, folks. I’ll have assignments out by the end of the day. Anything else?”

Seeing no hands go up and hearing no voices, Asa continued, “Ok, it seems like we have a great plan in place. Keep in mind though, no plan survives intact, so be prepared to adapt and adjust. Get plenty of rest, and speak up if you are confused at any point. I’ll speak to the Captain and First Officer about setting aside some time to celebrate with a ship-wide shower and let you know the date when I have it. Six hour shifts will begin next week, so please check the duty roster. We are all in for some long days and nights, but I know each of you is up to the task. We have the honor of being there for the start of new life, and I am confident we will all do everything we can to make this a positive experience for everyone involved.”

The meeting at an end, Asa sat waiting for everyone to make an exit. They knew sometimes people had questions they would only ask once everyone else was gone. As expected, two nurses and a scan technician came to get clarification on how certain pieces of equipment operated or on what to expect from a certain species childbirth tradition. Those questions answered, Asa found themself alone with the EMH.

“Well, Doctor, I think we’re as ready as we can be,” they said, letting out a breath they didn’t realize they had been holding.

It was midafternoon as Chief Medical Officer Asa Dael was making their rounds checking on the patients recovering from various misadventures. The ships most recent arrival, Az’Prel of Vulcan from the mirror universe to Rita’s, was next on Asa’s docket. The young freedom fighter had undergone one surgery already to remove debris from her skin and heal wounds both new and old. The osteogeneration implants that Asa had placed during that surgery had done their work, and the second of three slated surgeries for Az’Prel was to take place the next day.

Knocking on the door frame, Asa called in a clear voice, “Good afternoon, Az’Prel. How are you feeling today? Mind if I come in?”

As the displaced Vulcan was dozing somewhat peacefully, it took every scrap of willpower she had when she was startled awake not to jump out of bed on the defensive. As it was, her heart rate and blood pressure spiked dangerously and panic showed in her eyes for a moment before she was able to calm herself down when she realized it was the Starfleet physician, Doctor Asa Dael, someone that was very kind with her touch and sincerely had a good heart.

"I feel no pain, Doctor. Please, come in." Az'Prel replied once she finally calmed herself.

Walking lightly, Asa pulled up the guest chair to be near Az’Prel’s bed. They had noticed the vitals spike of course, it was broadcast on the biobed display, but knowing the cause to be mental instead of physical, the doctor elected to not say anything.

It seems fight or flight mode is still on high alert. The sooner we can get her in her own room, the better off she will be Asa thought.

“So, tomorrow is scheduled to be round 2 of surgery for you. We plan on repairing the rest of the damage to your organs, bones, and tissues. After that is over, you will be free from needing to live in this clean room and can have your quarters with the rest of the crew. Do you think you are ready for that? It’s ok if you prefer to stay here, of course, the decision is yours.”

Asa’s tone was gentle and mild, laying out the plan and options in a calm, soothing tone of voice. They sat back and waited for her response, making sure nothing in their body language would indicate a need to rush to a conclusion.

The displaced Vulcan thought it over a moment as she studied Asa. "Please do not misunderstand, but I would prefer to remain secluded from the rest of the crew, if possible. I do not feel ready to bunk with others just yet."

With a slight shrug, Asa replied, “Of course, these rooms are yours for as long as you please. Well, barring a ship wide emergency that would necessitate asking for temporary use of the medical suite. Not that I anticipate one, we haven’t had any such catastrophe on record, I just don’t want to promise you something I’m not 100% certain I can deliver. Whenever you would like them, we will have your private quarters prepared. Is there anything you would like added here? Perhaps a sitting chair? Or tools to aid in meditative practices?”

"Private Quarters?" Az'Prel was confused for a moment. "I was under the impression that I would be quartering with others. If I have private quarters elsewhere, then I would be remiss to free up this room for other occupants."

“Oh, I’m sorry about that, we must have miscommunicated somewhere. Each person has private quarters, unless they desire to share their space with others, such as mates and spouses. You will be on the same deck of the ship as others that have roughly the same designation as you, but each person has their own space. The doors lock, but in the interest of full disclosure, Executive Officers, security teams and medical staff can override a lock in the event of an emergency. Of course we take your privacy very seriously, and would only do so if the situation were dire. Each person is free to furnish their space as they like, and soon enough your room becomes your home. Is that something you would be interested in? There really is no rush if you are comfortable to stay here. It’s entirely your call.”

"That is... I don't think I know how to process what you are saying..." Az'Prel stumbled over her words a bit, never before having had such liberties or freedoms before. This ship must be massive to afford such luxuries to even those as low as her.

Sensing the impending panic, Asa made their voice low and calm, hoping their tone was soothing.

“I imagine we can process this together the way we will process a great many things if you enter therapy with me. Let’s do things one step at a time. Step 1 is looking at your new space. Your skin needs another 24 hours in a sterile environment to heal, and for your system to have processed the immunizations to keep you safe. When that is over, we can go look at your quarters. You don’t have to stay in them yet, just look at them. Does that sound a bit more manageable?”

The displaced Vulcan nodded after a moment. "That does sound manageable, though I may not trust them without some sort of semblance of familiarity to them."

“Ok, so let’s look at that. What does a sense of familiarity mean to you? We have sterilized your armor. I can certainly have that moved to your quarters. What else would help?” Asa looked at Az’Prel with a rapt expression. This was the first sign of the castaway showing signs of moving to join the Hera, and they wanted to do whatever possible to facilitate a smooth transition.

"During my time with the Terran Empire I was relegated to slave and concubine chambers and an agony booth... So let's pass on that. The camps and ships other than that were... Not nearly as nice..." Az'Prel thought on the question for several moments before replying. "Perhaps some scenery of Vulcan. I have not seen Mount Seleya since I was a child." Making that admission was a bit hard for the woman and it showed. It was a weakness and she had learned not to show any hints of weakness.

Asa offered a small smile in return. “Mount Seleya sounds lovely. I’ve never seen it myself, I look forward to seeing it with you when we go to your quarters. I have a scene from Madagascar, this little tiny island on Earth, on my walls. I think having a planet to see, even if it is just projected holographically, helps ground a person. What about blankets and such? What’s your favorite color? We could have blankets and pillows in colors that you like prepared.”

Agony booth? Concubine chambers? Light, what hells has this woman been through? How do we start rebuilding a life for her when she never had one to start? Asa internally remarked. They dare not let their skin touch in Az’Prel in that moment, not out of fear of harm, but because they did not want her to feel she was being pitied. A strong person like Az’Prel would resent pity, and as loath as she seemed to be to show any weakness, Asa would not discourage any tender moments.

"Eathtones. Nothing metallic, nothing bright red. They are the opposite of what the Terran Empire used." Az'Prel didn't even need to hesitate on that question. She knew what colors made her feel safe and secure and they were dirt.

"Browns, blues, and greens. Got it." Asa was taking careful notes to program items later.

"Would you like a desk? Or do you prefer more room open?"

The doctor hoped asking simple questions would both help them design a space to mock up in holograoh and help Az'Prel see she could safely explore her preferences and choices.

"I've never needed a desk before, but it would make a nice barricade and it would be a good place to hide, should the need arise." Az'Prel nodded, considering the advantages.

Schooling their face to smiling neutrality, Asa suppressed the shudder that ran through their soul that someone would immediately think of the defensive capacities of furniture instead of the purpose it was intended to have.

“Nice, heavy desk, got it. I sincerely hope you never have to use it for those purposes, but if it makes you comfortable to have, you should have it. What about clothes? Outside of a uniform, what types of clothes would you like to wear? Soft fabrics? Stiff? We could actually begin to have the computer send you some styles to choose from if you like. It might help the day go by faster.”

Her first instinct was to say 'armor' but immediately, Az'Prel thought better of that and gave it a bit more thought. "Something that would enhance my duties, whatever they may be. Barring that, something stiff yet easy to move in." And her mind immediately described armor...

"The good news there is our uniforms have a good deal of built-in aids. For instance, they are fire resistant, chemical resistant, all the good stuff to help stop a minor accident turning into a major injury. Gotta tell ya, it makes our lives here in Sickbay easier. Once you are resting, if you like, you can ask the Computer to show you options for clothing. Generally if you give it a rough description of what you want, the computer can fashion almost anything. Pun fully and enthusiastically intended," Asa said with a goofy wink.

"What about recreation time? I know you probably didn't get a chance to have leisure time before, but we try to balance work and recreation here. Some people participate in sports, some have hobbies in the arts, some cook, some garden. Personally I swim when I can, or read. I love reading. What is one activity you always meant to try but never got around to?"

Az'Prell reached up and tapped her left ear a few times. "I am sorry, but I believe I have reached the limits of my universal translator. I do not know many of the words you have used. Could you explain what these are?" She furrowed her brow trying to recall all the words her UT gave up on, her mirror Vulcan accent coming through in her attempts to repeat the words. "Recor...Eeay-sheon... Leash-urr... Sporsh... Ummm... Shwim? Hob-eashe..."

Feeling a bit saddened at the need, Asa explained, “Recreation is something people do for fun, or because they find is gratifying. Leisure time is time when not working, eating, sleeping, bathing, or other necessary activities. Hobbies are activities people do during that time for no other reason than they enjoy them. Because it makes them happy, or in the case of Lieutenant Sonak, because he finds the experience agreeable. Swimming is to go into a body of water and either partially or fully submerge oneself and then propel oneself through the water. I would be happy to teach you, if you like? It may help as physical therapy too as your bones and tissues heal.”

Realization slowly dawned on the displaced Vulcan. "I think I begin to understand. These activities are meant to while away your inactive periods. I prefer to spend my inactive periods studying, meditating, and running through logic tables in my mind."

“All noble endeavors to be sure,” Asa said, “Can you think of anything that would help those activities go better? A brazier to use with meditation perhaps?”

"A brazier... Meditating on an actual light rather than the light within me would be an interesting change. I will try it." A wave of exhaustion came over the displaced Vulcan as she returned her head to her pillow. "Are there many more questions, Doctor? Your methods greatly differ from those of the Terran Empire, yet I feel just as mentally exhausted as with any interrogation, just without the pain. I suspect this is due to our severe differences."

"You wish to provide me something that I have little concept of. Your crew and vessel has provided me with something I only dreamed of and now you introduce me to foreign concepts of rec... Recre-ashun. Safety and security is in abundance here. No one is going to stab you in the back. No one carries weapons or wears armor as a matter of course. I see the look of sadness in your eyes when I reply to your questions in an unexpected manner. I am Vulcan, but my emotions are not purged from me. I thank you for your kindness, but I fear this transition will be a long and difficult one for the both of us."

“I’m sorry, Az’Prel, I shouldn’t have pushed, “ Asa replied. “I hope to empower you to continue to explore your new freedoms, but you are correct, we should do so at your pace. I warned others to let you rest, and here I am, part of the problem. I hope you can forgive my ardor. Are you hungry? I’d be happy to get you lunch if you like.”

"That would be acceptable, thank you," Az'prel replied. "I will eat whatever you deem appropriate for my health."

After retrieving “Pot Pie al la Rita” from the replicator, Asa brought over one for each person. Placing Az’Prel’s dish in front of her, they took a quick bite of their own lunch.

“Good grief, that’s quite nice. Now, last question before I go, I promise. What, if any, questions do you have about tomorrow’s surgery? It’s ok if you don’t have any, I just want you to be as informed as you care to be.”

Az'Prel forked a bite of the pot pie into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully for a moment before replying. "It sounds to me that tomorrow's surgery will make me stronger overall in many ways and easier to fight off opponents both humanoid and microbial. Is that a correct assessment?"

“Yes, it is. Your recovery time will be faster all well,” Asa said simply, resisting the urge to flood the recovering woman with too much data again.

"Then I welcome the surgery," replied the displaced Vulcan before nibbling on her pot pie. "Thank you again Doctor. I... am greatly appreciative."

“It's what I'm here for. Enjoy the meal, and the day. Rest up, I’ll see you first thing,” with that Doctor Dael rose to prepare to leave.

"Thank you Doctor. I will endeavor to... Relax..." As Asa left, Az'Prel tried to ignore the strangeness of the feel of this universe and just enjoy the fact that there was no threat of being stabbed or murdered as she ate.

Sitting on the bridge in the big chair was not a duty with which Commander Rita Paris was unfamiliar. She had held the bridge when she was a LTJG on the USS Farragut, then on the USS Exeter. The USS Hera was not a Constitution-Class starship, the mightiest of the line back in her day. Heck, she wasn’t even a direct descendant. The Hera was far more advanced, larger, of a completely different design, and she barely resembled the old ships of the line of the 5 year mission days. If anything, she looked more closely related to the Dreadnaught class USS Vengeance or USS Conquest.

Not that either vessel had existed in this reality, and the only person in existence who would understand the reference was Sonak. Rita remembered though… the vengeance had devastated her home town of San Francisco, and in a heated battle that she’d masterminded with Sonak’s help, they had defeated the Conquest as well. Without destroying their starship as the crew of the Enterprise had, which gave her no small degree of pride.

Although that mission, like the rest of her career, existed only in memory now. Enalia Telvan had taken a lot on faith taking on a stranger from another reality, and Rita Paris had striven hard to validate that faith in a Starfleet that had only an unremarkable service record that ended when the lost lieutenant have disintegrated screaming on a transporter pad in 2260, on board the USS Constitution. Her counterpart in this universe bore only a superficial resemblance to her, as did Sonak’s counterpart. Mnhei’sahe Dox’s favorite theory was that Rita and Sonak were from the Holvid Universe, where everyone was prettier or more handsome, as if they were attractive modern actors playing the parts of historical figures.

As it no longer existed, Rita was tempted to start calling their universe of origin the Holovid Universe. After all, there was exactly one other person to argue the point with her, and he didn’t care what she called it.

Bridge duty was, oddly enough, one of her least favorite things about the job. While she could review and run reports from her office or the bridge, Rita was a hands-on officer, and she preferred to personally check on departments and follow up on reports in person. On the average she tended to log in about 30 kilometers a day at least, marching to and fro across the great starship in the course of her duties. But today the Captain was stuck in meetings with the brass, which she found mind-numbing and tedious, so that meant the first officer needed to hold the bridge for her. Which was all part of the duty, which Rita accepted without complaint, although it was certainly not her favorite thing.

Sending a text message to Maica, she advised the captain’s bride that her wife would likely very much benefit from a luncheon delivery, and seeing Maica would likely brighten the Captain’s otherwise dreary day. Which might have been presumptuous, but one of Rita’s many duties was looking out for the commanding officer’s mental health as well as her physical safety, and the holographic hostess always seemed to bring a smile to the Trill captain’s face.

A message came back almost immediately that she was on her way with something special and before long the holographic hottie was stepping out of the turbolift with a large lunchbox full of food and a thermos. "Hey Rita, I made extra spice tea if you'd like to join us."

"I would love to, but it's alpha shift and I'm covering for the Captain. You two go have some time, eh?" the first officer declined with a friendly smile and a wave from the command chair. "I'll try to make sure the universe doesn't erupt in crisis."

Having just jinxed it, no sooner had Maica entered Enalia's ready room, a call came in from their favorite Commodore, as reported by the Ensign at operations. "Commander, a priority one transmission is incoming from Commodore Meowlith. Should I put it on screen?"

Rolling her eyes at the cosmos, Rita suspected that Enalia would take it in her ready room, as she was secretive by nature. But Rita was sitting in the chair, and if the crew couldn't be trusted on the bridge, then why were they here? "Captain to the bridge. Onscreen, Ensign SAG."

It only took a moment for Enalia to get on the bridge and in that time, Meowlith had already popped onto the viewscreen and introduced herself to Rita. "Commander, I wish I could say this was a social call, but it never is, is it? Remember that dark matter ion storm you discovered that the USS Amaterasu has been researching?"

"We were out there a few weeks ago, dropping off a chunk of it that had been trapped on the Hera. Has there been a chance in the status of the storm?" the gold-clad commander queried, curious if some new development had occurred, as perhaps something wondrous had occurred.

"Yes, and you're not going to like it," Meowlith nodded to Enalia as she came up beside Rita, motioning for her to stay in the center chair. "It's formed into what we've been able to identify as the Titan Gaia. It's attacked three planets with some sort of protomatter projectiles and literally transformed barren rocks into lush planets covered in hostile flora and fauna in a matter of hours."

"Define hostile flora and fauna, ma'am?" Waking up and terraforming planets sounded like something wondrous if Gaia was seeding life where there was none. Seeding it with life hostile to any other life sounded a lot less wondrous.

"Dinosaurs and carnivorous plants big enough to eat them," Farenia defined. "On top of that, Gaia is heading towards a system that has primitive cave dwelling life on a class M planet in it now."

Definitely not wondrous.

"What are your orders, ma'am?" Paris asked, since the Captain seemed content to observe. Rita had come tot he conclusion that often, Captain Telvan deliberately stood by to see how Rita would handle situations, much like she herself did with the junior officers. It made her appreciate the room to gain experience, as unlike Stuart before her, Rita didn't have to clean up Enalia's messes.

The Commodore got right to it. "The Amaterasu and Photon will maintain a perimeter while the Hera finds a way to deal with the Titan. We'll monitor the situation and do our best to keep any traffic out of your way. Gaia is at the following coordinates now. She's kind of hard to miss... Also, once Gaia is done with the current system, the current path takes her directly to Trill."

"We'll find a way to halt her rampage, Commodore." Paris said with a confidence she didn't necessarily feel. How in Hades were they going to talk a titan out of regenerating every planet she came across, making it hostile to humanoid life? Shrugging, the ancient astronaut brushed it aside. That was a problem for later than sooner. For now, time to get to work. "Hera out."

As the main viewer returned to the view of the warp field sliding ahead, Paris swiveled the chair to Ops. "Ensign SAG, you have those coordinates? Good, share them with flight control please." The chair spun again, this time pointing to flight control. "Helm, plot us a course. What's our ETA at Warp 9.2?"

Mona punched in the calculations and came up with a number pretty quick. "Course laid in, Ma'am. ETA four days, six hours. Three hours before she hits her next target if the math the Commodore sent stays the same."

Tapping away at the control panel on the captain's chair, Paris ran the numbers, plotting a course herself. "Recalculate for warp 9.4, Ensign Gonadie, and lay in this course. That'll give us an extra 14 hours to analyze, determine what we're dealing with and figure out how to stop her."

"Confirmed. Not sure the engines will handle that speed for that long, but it'll at least buy us more time, Ma'am," replied Mona, recalculating for warp 9.4. "Ready to engage on your order."

"Alert Engineering to brace for the strain- we just got her all polished up at a starbase, so she should hold together," Paris opined, checking for the nod from the Captain, which was given, then she gave the command.

"On our way. Warp speed, Miss Gonadie."

"Roger that. Computer confirms that all personnel are aboard and docking authority has cleared us for departure. Warp speed in three... Two... One..." Mona finished her manual piloting and tossed the ship into warp, starlines appearing on the viewscreen.

Enalia grinned as she relaxed. "Looks like we're already heading back into the fire."

"Computer, show us a representation of the systems of Trill, stone age civilization system Flint 2, and the Gaia entity relative to our projected time of arrival," the curvaceous commander called out, then turned to eye the captain. "If we're going into the fire, we may as well take a look at the forge."

The viewscreen shifted to display the requested map of the Trill sector, overlaying the projected path of the Titan Gaia and the projected location. Enalia whistled softly at the projections. "It looks like if we can't stop her, we'll have three days before a pre-industrial civilization... Then five more days until she hits a Trill colony... And two more days before Trillius Prime..."

"Assuming she doesn't change course," Rita studied the star display then called out another order. "Computer, please add an overlay to show any other inhabited systems within reach of her at current speed on an alternate heading. Speaking of which, Ensign, how fast is Gaia moving?"

"Warp eight," came the reply from the computer as a few alternative paths were calculated, including one which included the system that Enalia was actually raised in and had her family's orbital fortress.

"Well if it wasn't personal already..." Enalia muttered.

"Trill or the Fortress. Here's hoping she isn't moving with a grudge against you- but why would she?" Rita asked hypothetically. "Ops, coordinate with the Photon and the Amaterasu. Get us their sensor reports of the storm, the transformation from the storm into whatever state Gaia inhabits now, and the scans of the protomatter planetary terraforming- say that ten times fast."

"Get the data to Science for analysis. Get some geologists on just how she's doing this to these planets and why- seeding them with life that's hostile to humanity to what end, that's the big question. Is she mad at us or is this part of some bigger picture." Paris paused at that and cocked her head. "Somehow I never imagined titans terraforming planets at high speed would be a part of the daily report, yet here we are. Another glorious day in Starfleet. Orders, Captain?"

The spotted captain performed a Picard maneuver on her uniform top and turned towards her ready room. "Steady as she goes, Commander. As soon as we have some data to go on we can start our analysis. Also, prep a team for a survey mission to one of these... New Genesis worlds? Proto-worlds? Whatever the Commodore and her teams are calling them. Full MACO arms and armor with quarantine sample protocols."

"Aye Captain... steady as she goes."

Ideas and plans were on the mind of Commander Rita Paris, as they tended to do when trouble loomed. Captain Telvan had taken the chair to free her First Officer up to chase those crazy ideas of hers and make something happen. On the way off the bridge the lost navigator had grabbed Ensign Mona Gonadie as she departed, bringing her into the turbolift with her.

"Deck 3. Ensign, I understand you've been working on upgrading those Scorpion small deployment fighter craft," Rita said as the short ride ended and they began to stride aft to the upper flight deck.

"I have. I was able to re-equip them as you desired with specialized Starfleet turrets and replaced the computers with something more friendly for us. The flight interfaces are essentially the same still, but I've overlaid a MACO HUD on the canopy to help with that for now." Mona paused a moment before continuing. I also started building a variable mode armored version... It looks a bit funky..."

The excitement in the old-school officer's eyes was unmistakabale, and she practically grinned ear to ear. "This I have GOT to see. Miss Gonadie, you might just be my favorite mad scientist ever." Tapping her abundant left breast, the curvaceous commander called out. "Paris to Dox, would you be so kind as to meet us on the upper flight deck at your convenience?"

From her office in he Flight Control Office, Dox was deep in thought reviewing the maintenance reports on the Runabout Thor and crew rotation changes caused by a minor injury with a faulty grav unit when her comm badge chirped with Rita Paris' message.

After listening to it, Dox saved her files as she grabbed her work PaDD and stood up from her desk. "On my way Commander. I'll be there in two minutes."

"Excellent. So, what exactly does 'funky' entail. Miss Gonadie, I am curious?" While her legs were shorter than Rita's, Mona's height gave her some compensation, and she could keep up with the martial-paced commander with just a little effort. Which made for a sight- the two minidress-clad buxom women moving at a steady clip as they stepped out onto the upper flight deck together.

"It's a bit smaller what with only one seat and it's currently in a walker configuration so..." Mona motioned to a six meter tall, roughly humanoid shaped mecha suit with folding winglets for arms and legs and the fully sealed canopy for the body. A large sensor and phaser turret hovered on the top like some sort of head. Under one arm was a vastly oversized TR-116C. "Yeah, I got as far as I could with the simulations so I asked Ila for some replication requisitions."

In her head, Rita hear swelling strains of music, though she couldn't name the tune right now. But time slowed a bit and the world took on a bright and hazy glow, and she could swear there was just a hint of lens flare. Big blue eyes wide and slightly glazed, Rita reached out to touch the experimental combination of an EVA suit and a fighter craft.

"It's... beautiful..." the ancient astronaut murmured, transfixed by the sight.

"I am so glad I got here in time to see that." Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox said with a smile as she walked across the deck towards the pair briskly from the access ladder from the lower deck. "Ensign Gonadie has outdone herself considerably here, wouldn't you say?"

'Smoke Gets In Your Eyes' continued to play in Rita's head for a few more seconds until she realized that Lieutenant Dox was talking to her. "Huh? Ah... well, it certainly looks impressive so far. Is... is this rated to fly yet...?"

Mona looked nervous for a moment before answering. "Technically yes... Fly... I haven't finished the stabilization systems for high speed maneuvers or walking yet though. I mean... It can walk... But only on perfectly flat and level surfaces like a flight deck. And the high speed flight systems are disabled in walker mode, but the high speed scanner and target acquisition systems are enabled. The holographic flight control systems are ready though."

"She's still very much a work in progress, Commander." Dox added, "But I've been astounded with the progress Ensign Gonadie has made in such a little time. Especially considering how quickly she got the rest of our little fleet of Scorpions up to your specs."

"Mmmm," Rita reached up to pat the experimental craft with the love only a pilot can show for a spacecraft. "Later for you then, my lovely. I must sau, I'm very impressed with the progress you've made, Ensign, and I will continue to monitor this with considerable interest. You have my attention, to be certain." Patting the prototype one more time, then caressing it lightly with her fingers, Paris turned, all business again.

As she regarded the flight control officers, Paris raised both eyebrows. "So which of the triplets were sacrificed to craft this one, and what are we looking at in their upgrades beyond our accomplished areospace architect making them fly Federation friendly?"

A grin as wide as was possible with her chubby cheeks spread across the red-headed Romulan's face as she looked over at her Miradonian assistant for a moment. Then looking back at Rita, Dox pilled out her PaDD and pushed a few buttons as she spoke. "Well, my primary contribution at this point has been in approving the time and allocation of necessary resources for Ensign Gonadie. As such, I think I'll let her take the proper credit for what she pulled off here."

"Thank you, Minay," Mona smiled lovingly to Dox before walking over towards the first of the three rebuilt scorpions. "After replacing the computer systems and tearing out the cloak, I scanned for any leftover surprises the Romulan Republic might have left in there, just in case. I found a control override system so I removed it as well and replaced it with our own so it can be remote piloted from the FCO sims."

"As for the systems themselves, the general controls themselves aren't bad, so I left the bike handles mostly alone and just improved upon them. The system is now in common and has a functional autopilot and computer-assisted targeting array. I've put in triple redundancies for life support. The canopy HUD overlay is straight from the MACO armor so it should be familiar. It'll also interface with MACO armor and integrate the canopy HUD with the armor's HUD. As for the flight stabilization system, I've been able to boost maneuverability about seventeen percent on the horizontal plane."

"And now we get to the turret systems. As per your request, I replaced them with a phaser turret, sensor turret, and multi-role turret. I've also added a tractor turret to the landing gear strut on all three."

Still beaming for Mona, Dox added, "Plus, Ensign Gonadie removed the existing seats and replaced them with modular designs that will scan and adjust for the proportions of the occupants. So a tighter seat for a pilot in a standard uniform, or expanded seating to account for our EVA armor and attachments."

"But we still have our fleet of three. Gold, Crimson and Teal for each department all intact and functional." Dox ran her hand along the leg of the walker they were still talking in front of. "Ensign Gonadie scratch-built built this baby, reverse engineering from her scans of the Scorpions. It took some juggling to get the material matter requisitioned, but I think once she's complete she will pay off on that investment in incalculable ways."

"To be fair, Yeoman Dedjoy had a set of plans for a variable frame superiority fighter in the Section 31 database they never got to work that I borrowed ideas from... But yes. Scratch built." Mona was beaming a bit now.

It wasn't always easy separating her love for Mona as a mate from their professional relationship as colleagues, but in this moment, that veil was even thinner as Dox could feel the warmth of Mona's happiness from two feet away through the still rudimentary empathic bond that was still forming between the two. But Dox did her level best to keep her own emotions in check. "So, Commander. Would you like to inspect the Scorpion triplets?"

"Very, very impressive Miss Gonadie. Excellent work so far, it is abundantly clear that you are designing according to the mission requirement paramaters that I set and you are taking the designs above and beyond my requests as you see needs and are fulfilling them within the design structure. I am very impressed, and I will await further developments patiently. Yes, by all means let's see Huey, Dewey and Louie," the comely commander turned to see where the trio of small fighter craft were parked.

Knitting her eyebrows slightly at the antiquated reference she had never heard of, Dox pulled up her PaDD again to punch in some instructions. As she did, from across the deck, the power turned on the three reformatted Romulan Scorpion fighters.

"There they are. The Variable threat assessment, research, and reconnaissance vehicles." As the trio of officers stepped over, all three cockpits hissed and then slowly opened for inspection. "Your 'Getaway Driver' in Gold, our more offensive Crimson lady and the blue science equipped recon ship. Flight rated and ready for field testing."

Then Dox folded her arms behind her back as she continued. "But I felt the ship jump to what I'm assuming is maximum warp a couple of minutes ago. So something tells me we might be moving those field tests up sooner rather than later, Commander?"

Mona cleared her throat to interject. She had been on the bridge when the orders had come in and input the coordinates herself. "With luck, the Thunderchicken will be ready for her maiden voyage upon our arrival. If you need her, of course."

"As much as I would love to test her out, this is a serious and critical mission this time around, Miss Gonadie," Paris explained. "Better to use this as the opportunity for a shakedown cruise of the trio and establish what they can do rather than take a risk... too many lives are at stake. I'm gonna name you Curiosity," Paris interrupted herself to name the Science blue vessel. "Enhanced sensor and analysis package in Curiosity here I presume?"

Smiling at the re-christening, Dox answered. "Aye. She only has the most basic weapons for defensive purposes and cutting. Her turret is loaded with a massive sensor pack. The cannon is designed to fire an array of different probes and there are retractable arms for sample gathering as well. The extra space we got from removing the cloak here goes to a much larger central on-board computer to process and analyze data. Sonak has a set up in here with nearly as much functionality as his bridge station."

"I tried to pack an entire mobile science lab into it and I'll have to give Yeoman Dedjoy a bit of credit for designing the pod on that one," added the brightly plumed Miradonian. "As for the engineering one with the multi-mission pod, it comes with a grappler and a workbee mag-coupler for cutting, welding, and moving hull if needed. I believe it would be well suited to search and rescue."

“Mmmm, well done, well done. Miss Gonadie, were you not so averse to rank I’d promote you for this. As it stands, we’ll just have to find some sort of citation for superior engineering and design. I am very impressed with your work here, on all three of the specialty vehicles. We may well be starting a trend amongst Starfleet to pare down from full runabouts to smaller exploratory vessels that can be customized for mission-specific needs.” Turning to eye the Miradonian pilot, Paris fixed her with a proud smile. “You’re quite possibly looking at the future of terrestrial exploration here, Miss Gonadie. And you will have been the one to bring it about. This may well be an historic moment, judging from the functionality and appeal of Getaway Driver, Curiosity and… Cherry Bomb, here. Do they still have torpedo launching capability?”

Mona grinned and nodded. "The ah... Cherry Bomb has two full-sized photon torpedoes while the other two have a loadout of twenty micro-torpedoes each. The Thunderchicken has a payload of forty micro quantum torpedoes."

Putting her PaDD over her mouth, Dox stifled a chuckle at both the name 'Thunderchicken' and how perfect 'Cherry Bomb' was. She may not have warmed much to Earth culture during her few years there, but did take away a strong love of Hard Rock and Heavy Metal, so it was a rare reference that Dox understood and loved.

“Microtorpedoes… let’s substitute one of those launchers for a class 10 probe on the Curiosity, since she has the sensor suite for it and it’ll just give her that much greater versatility and information-gathering capability- essentially a remote exploratory drone,” Paris mused as she walked slowly around and between the sleep small craft. “That should make the science team even happier, and reinforce that she’s an exploratory vessel who happens to possess offensive capability. Perhaps some increased shielding for her as well, so that she can be used in scientific investigations such as solar storms and such.” While it might be viewed as critique, instead this was Paris appreciating Gonadie’s forward thinking and capitalizing on those ideas to move forward and push those boundaries further.

“As for the Thunderchicken… I suspect she’ll have quite a few mission specialty packages, but I admire your choices for standard armament thus far, Ensign. Versatility and flexibility will be the watchword of this design, I feel.” Eyeing the prototype across the deck, there was a merry twinkle in the eye of the first officer. “The future of exploration indeed…”

"Those can be swapped in easily," Mona replied, pulling out a small PaDD and making a note of it.

"Which raises the question, at least for me, of what we're prepping the girls for? What's the mission, Commander?" Dox still hadn't been briefed on what Rita and Mona were on the bridge for and was becoming concerned.

“The titan Gaia has awakened, and begin terraforming planets at a speed nothing short of miraculous. We might be a bit less concerned save that she is seeding them with flora and fauna that are hostile to humanoid life, and at her present course she is going to encounter planets that are inhabited… such as Trill. We’re not certain if what she’s up to will overwrite existing life, but we’d rather not find out.” Leave it to Paris to have a succinct briefing prepared off the top of her head.

“That’s where these three will come in,” Rita gestured broadly to the colorful small craft that had been occupying the flight engineer’s time for the past week. “We’re going to stop off at a planet that she’s terraformed to study it, get some readings and answer questions we haven’t formulated as yet. After all, I don’t think anything like this has been seen before.”

Mona tucked her PaDD away and pressed shoulder to shoulder with Dox to share a bit more of their bond together. "Well, there was the Genesis project. It was classified, but you don't exactly keep the terraforming and catastrophic destruction of a planet secret for long. People ask questions."

“The who what now?” the throwback officer asked. Having missed 13 decades of history, she was notorious for not knowing galactic events and history that others took for granted as old news, as it tended to be news to her in the moment it was brought up- such as this one? “Genesis project?”

"Gaia?" Dox looked somewhat taken aback, with just a hint of fear in her voice. "Wasn't Gaia where that shard of consciousness from the Holodeck came from? The one I..." the red-headed Romulan was suddenly a little more anxious again as she trailed off. But she quickly collected herself thanks to Mona's calming energy, and got her mind back on task.

"I barely remember hearing about the Genesis project... we may need to do a little research on that. But the plan we have now sounds solid. If we can get enough data to determine how she's doing what she's doing, it may open up ideas of how to prevent it."

"Yes, THAT Gaia. As for the Genesis Project..." Rita muttered as she tapped at the PaDD in her hand. When the answer was not forthcoming, given a clue she would fill in the gaps in her education by researching. "Why would they... oh, terraforming moons and dead planetoids, sure. Okay, I can see why seeing that as a weaponized application would certainly cause an uproar... protomatter… well, good for the Klingons, I object on moral grounds myself... genesis torpedo... oh you have got to be kidding me." Looking up with a slightly upraised eyebrow, Paris sighed. "All right, now that I have some vague idea what we're talking about, this just keeps getting better. We need readings from at least one of the planets she has terraformed, and that may give us some insight into how and why she is doing this. That'll be the first mission of these three."

Pulling up her own PaDD, Dox started entering data rapidly as she spoke. "Then we better make sure they are ready to go. Ensign Gonadie, can you get those revisions made to the Curiosity before we arrive at our destination? I'd recommend an emphasis on those shield modifications first and foremost since time crunch is a major factor. If we're dealing with anything even remotely involving Protomater, shielding will be critical."

Mona nodded. "Consider it done. I already have the work order in and my team will have the parts replicated and installed within the hour."

Logging the information into her own PaDD, Dox nodded with a light but professional smile. "Thank you, Ensign." The young department Chief worked hard to separate her personal and professional relationships with her Miradonian partner.

"Who will be assigned to each ship, Commander? Pilots and support?" Dox added, keeping her head on the assignment.

“Indeed, good to hear, Miss Gonadie, although we do have some time yet. One pilot, one sec/tac officer per vehicle. The piloting will be handled by thee and me and Mr. Sonak makes three,” Paris confirmed. “Scans of the planet, thorough deep scans including atmospheric, seismic, botanical and so forth. All three ships is a bit redundant I know, but better to have the backup there than not is my logic. While I have confidence Mr. Sonak could handle this alone, I would prefer for him to have rapidly deployable assistance on hand.”

"I agree, Commander. Plus, since we don't know what potential threats are down there yet, We may need to run interference for Lieutenant Sonak. It will enable us all to work faster and more efficiently at the same time." Dox added with a nod.

“Indeed. Additionally, it will enable us to test fly the new upgraded Scorpions… hmm, that name won’t do at all. While the base frames may have been Romulan Scorpions, these bear little resemblance to that model any longer. Hmmmm…” the throwback officer took all of five seconds of consideration before declaring, “Cyclones. These are now Cyclone rapid response search and rescue vehicles. Because by the time our Miss Gonadie is through with them, I suspect they will bear only a passing resemblance to Scorpion fighter craft at best.”

“Point being, this will be a good test flight for them, and not quite so envelope- pushing as the Thunderchicken. She’ll get her moment, but for now, we’ll stick to ‘modified’ rather than ‘completely experimental’ no matter how badly I want to try it out.” Paris grinned at her own admission, then drew herself erect, in that command pose that both flight control officers knew from experience indicated the Commander planned to bring the meeting to a close. “Anything else we need to address?”

Already deep into planning for the specifics of the mission in her head, Dox shook her head lightly. "No, Commander. I think we've got the mission parameters set and good to go. The Cyclones will be mission ready with time to spare."

Nodding to the two flight control officers, Paris spun on her heel as she departed, waving over her shoulder and speaking as she did so.

“Of that, I never had a doubt. Miss Dox, Miss Gonadie… carry on.”




https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H2di83WAOhU

On the main flight deck if the U.S.S. Hera, lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox was hard at work. Sitting in the cockpit of the salvaged former Romulan Scorpion fighter... now re-christening the Cyclone-class vehicle, Curiosity by Commander Rita Paris... Dox was running diagnostics on all of it's systems.

There were three cyclones on the deck and this was the fourth round of diagnostics Dox had run in the last hour. The ships were scheduled for their maiden runs very soon and Dox wanted to make sure that there was nothing wrong. Of course, she knew that they were flight ready before she began the diagnostic sequences. Before she lay on the deck looking over the superstructure with a tricorder searching for stress fractures. Before she ran each ship through tests of their hydraulic systems.

These ships were expertly engineered by Ensign Mona Gonadie and Dox trusted Mona quite possibility more than she trusted anyone in the universe. Dox trusted Mona with her very mind as the two were mated and had learned how to psychically bond if late. So she wasn't checking Mona's work because she didn't trust it. She was checking Mona's work... Because she didn't trust herself.

In two days time, the U.S.S. Hera would catch up to their current target. The cosmic Titan, Gaia. A being of near immeasurable power that was somehow terraforming planets with astounding speed, but destroying the simple life that was already on those worlds. And Gaia was heading towards populated worlds.

But even that wasn't why Dox was desperate to keep herself busy, almost to the point of panic. The anxiety that lived like a tightly wound ball in the pit of the young Romulan woman's stomach felt tight enough to snap at the moment. Her anxiety was spiraling because it was only a couple of short months ago that a shard of the Titan Gaia had been trapped in the Holodeck of the Hera itself.

This shard could control the Holodeck, pulling thoughts, memories and even fears out and giving the substance in what she, Doctor Asa Dael and Commander Paris believed was an attempt at communication. But of the three, the shard could only create characters on the Holodeck to communicate directly with Dox, herself.

Having gone back to the Holodeck to talk a few times, the entity attempted to understand the mind of the red-headed Romulan as it tried to form questions. It was sentient, but struggled. If it knew it was a piece of the Titan Gaia, Dox didn't believe it was aware of it. It struggled to express its thoughts and fears, but the trio had deduced that it simply longed to go home. Back to the ion dark matter storm where it had become trapped in the Hera's systems. So that's where they took it.

But it couldn't be separated from the computers where it had become trapped. It needed someone to carry it so it could be beamed back into the storm in space. It needed a friend it would trust to do this with. It needed Mnhei'sahe Dox.

Of the three, it had only talked with Dox. Of the three only Dox could survive being beamed off the ship into space for any length of time. Paris, at the time, couldn't be beamed safely. For that matter, ‘safe beaming’ was always a relative term when it came to Paris, who had an impressively long list of lifetime transporter accidents. Asa's El-Aurian physiology was significantly weaker compared to Dox's hearty Romulan constitution. So Dox had volunteered.

In doing so, Dox spent approximately three and a half minutes fused and merged with a cosmic being. The experience was brief, and she almost died in the vacuum of space. But it was successful, and the shard had been returned home.

Now that shard was a part, not of a slumbering giant, but of a very awake and seemingly angry Titan. A Titan the Hera was chasing. A Titan Dox now understood could walk right back into her brain without resistance.

Hopping from the cockpit, Dox found herself buried in her own thoughts as she walked over and climbed into the crimson hulled starship Rita had dubbed the 'Cherry Bomb' to run its systems checks again. Keeping busy wasn't helping.

Recently, she had learned that there was something wrong with her brain. That due, in part, to her use of an experimental sensory flight helmet, that her mind had become artificially awakened. It was described to her like a gate into her mind was now permanently opened. While she had begun training to defend her mind, working with the Vulcan Kolinahr master, Sonak, they were only just beginning. And Dox was terrified that what had been described as a great neon sign over her head inviting mentally powerful beings in would most certainly call out to Gaia.

Gaia, who had once possessed the ship’s former Counselor, the Betazoid Avendar Jurot, leaving her broken forever. Gaia, whom a shard of had once briefly lived within Dox herself. Gaia, whom Dox had no defense against should the Titan choose to enter the Romulan woman's mind.

So she worked. She tried not to think about that. And she tried to remember what she had learned already from Sonak, hoping it would be enough. But she was so lost in thought running yet another diagnostic on the Cherry Bomb's upgraded weapons turret that even her sensitive Romulan hearing didn't notice the footfalls of boots walking up to her on the deck.

In the surprisingly long career of Commander Rita Paris, she had not always been the seeming paragon of self-assured confidence that she projected to her subordinates. There had been countless nights of Sonak reassuring her, of days spent crippled with self-doubt, of her imposter syndrome working overtime, of her anxiety simply getting the better of her. So while in the far-flung future in which she lived, very few people had borne witness to what a mess she was beneath the surface.

The young woman currently working herself into a frenzy octuplet-checking her own work was one of those people who had seen her at her worst, and still had faith in her. That, amongst a host of other reasons, made her treasure the insecure Romulan officer. Which of course meant that Paris maintained a close eye on the portly pilot, because she could easily imagine the young chief’s frustrations and fears and anxieties, even when she did not give voice to them. Because it was remarkably easy for the emotional executive to empathize with the anxiety-riddled young flight chief, as the neurotic navigator could easily put herself into the other woman’s shoes. Not so long ago, yet paradoxically decades in the past, Paris had been where Dox was now… in a manner of speaking.

Silently the old-school officer stood waiting. The anxious aerospace ace was deep inside her own mind, turning over negative possibilities and doomsday scenarios of the crisis of the moment, which Rita suspected that she understood. When she finally looked up to notice the gold-clad commander, it would likely startle her. Just how long that took would speak volumes to Paris in gauging her neurosis level of the moment, however, so she stood silently by to take her sounding.

After nearly a full minute of mental gymnastics, Dox turned to look over and inspect the cockpit clamps when she jumped ever so slightly at the sight of Rita Paris standing there, waiting. "C... Commander..." she said with a slight break in her voice which she quickly corrected. "Can I help you?"

Quite wound up indeed, Paris silently observed, but her reply would be cheerful and kind. When one of her officers ran the same test five times on the same starship, particularly one as uncomplicated as the flight systems in the Cyclones, the canny Commander realized that someone was going bananas down on the flight deck and need to be ordered to take a break.

Saying such a thing would, of course, only serve to embarrass the chief, whose self-confidence was always a delicate thing. Instead, Paris decided to take a different tack, and turn into the wind, as it were.

“So are they ready to fly, Chief?” Rita asked cheerfully. “We still have a few days until we need to scramble them, but if I know you, they’ve been gone over stem to stern with a magnifying glass to insure they are prepared.”

Sliding down from the cockpit, Dox patted the Cherry Bomb with one hand a somewhat forced smile on her face as she tried to compensate for her nerves. "Magnifying glass, tricorder, ships scanners. They are all in better than perfect shape. Absolutely ready to go."

Dox pulled out her PaDD and called up some files as she spoke. "I've worked up full holgraphic replicas for sim testing and a number of programs to test them out based on the preliminary data of the environment we will be heading into. We've got the time, so I think running some sims would be useful."

“Good, good,” Paris nodded and murmured, then she turned to eye the flight control officer. “So I have a bit of a problem with one of your pilots, chief. It seems they get very worked up over something, then try to exert control over aspects of their duties they can control, and they have a tendency to work themselves until they are no good to anyone. Any suggestion on how I might want to handle that?”

Initially, Dox reacted before she processed Paris' words. "I haven't received any reports of..." Then as she thought, she paused mid-sentence and let out a slight sigh as she caught on to what Rita was getting at. The cheerful commander herself smiled an almost maternal smile as she saw it all play out across the rambunctious Romulan’s face, as she realized Dox had worked it out already, which never failed to make her proud of the young officer.

"I'd... probably order that officer to stop overdoing it, focus on the tasks immediately needed as needed, and try and get some rest when it was available." Dox replied, with a somewhat resigned expression. "And maybe talk to someone about what was really bothering them."

“That does seem to be sound advice, Miss Dox. I daresay your command instincts are quite on point, well done. So,” Leaning against the bright crimson hull of the small and sleek fighter craft, the cheesecake commander perched herself on the craft, looking to all the universe like a stylized pinup of a bygone era. “Wanna tell me what’s bothering you, or do I have to employ more of my patented dirty tricks to worm the information out of you?”

"I get the feeling you already know, but..." Dox started talking with the briefest of smiles that quickly faded as she went. "It's... Gaia. A part of her was here. Not just here on the ship. But in here."

The rotund Romulan tapped the side of her head. "I let her in before because I thought it was the right thing to do. But now... I'm scared. I'm scared that if she wants back in, I won't be able to do anything about it."

“Knowing what you know now, do you think it was the wrong thing to do?” Paris asked plainly. While she wasn’t always direct, in this case she understood Mnhei’sahe Dox’s misgivings. But this wasn’t a question she could answer for her- at least, not directly.

Without hesitation, Dox shook her head. "No. I think... I think I'd still do it if I had it to do over again. And we don't really know what set Gaia off on this path. But, the whole time she was with me... and it felt so much longer than it actually was... I felt.... gratitude. Warmth. Thankfulness. I never felt anything negative. I hope that's still in there somewhere."

“Then my next question is, in the worst case scenario, if she does decide to visit the deluxe mental accommodations offered at Chez Dox, what do you think may come of that?” There was no mocking nor sarcasm in her tone, though her verbiage was clearly not serious. As the plump pilot tended to veer toward the worst case scenario, a little humor tended to keep her from driving deeper into negative territory. She often seemed to take strength from Rita’s casual air in such situations, so it behooved Rita to provide it.

"It took... everything I had to break Sonak's mind meld in training. But as strong as Sonak is, what I felt with just that shard was so much more. I don't believe I currently have the skills to keep her out." Dox held up her PaDD. "That's not me being defeatist, just realistic. But I've got a contingency in the works."

"Doctor Dael can monitor my brain functions. If there's any changes once we get there, I've already prepared a program that would remove my access to all systems immediately. No helm control, no computer access, nothing. If she gets in, I don't want her being able to use me against the ship. I was going to present the proposal at the end of my shift."

“All very good precautions,” the curvaceous commander concurred, then she restated her question. “So my next question is, in the worst case scenario, if she does decide to visit the deluxe mental accommodations offered at Chez Dox, what do you think may come of that?”

Leaning her head back to think for a moment, Dox replied with a slight sigh. "What I think might happen and what I hope might happen are... wildly different. I think that she might try and use me against the ship. Against you or Mona or the Captain. What I hope... is that the part of her that was here remembers us. You, me and Asa. Remembers that once we offered her our friendship and did everything we could to help. I hope she remembers that I welcomed her in once as a friend and not an enemy."

“Good… that’s excellent, actually. Hope for the best and prepare for the worst is a good way to manage your career in Starfleet, in my experience.” Leaning forward, Paris turned her head at a quizzical angle and blinked those big baby blues up at the anxious aviatrix. “So what can you do about it now, aside from engaging your ‘Manchurian candidate’ protocols?”

"I suppose normal, overcompensating me would say something like..." Mid sentence, Dox took on a slightly exaggerated seriousness, "Go to the Holodeck and practice my mental discipline exercises to try and strengthen my mind."

Then she relaxed her posture a bit and chuckled. "But... all that will really do is exhaust me and make it even less likely that I could defend myself against her. So, as of right now, there's really nothing I can do except try and relax, knowing I've done my due diligence. I can try and trust in myself and the rest of the crew to deal with whatever happens when and if it does."

"Positive affirmation, that's good. So, plan for the immediate future, now that you've realized you're wound too tightly?" Paris asked genially as she slid her rounded rear off the Cherry Bomb, dusted off her backside then tugged down her skirt, and waited patiently for the next answer in the series.

"That... I don't know for sure." Dox sighed as she scrunched her face. "Old me would want a serious drink but I'm not doing what old me wants anymore."

Pushing off the side of the Cherry Bomb, Dox looked at the three ships as she shut down their power from her PaDD. "It's not all that late, but I honestly just want to go home, curl up with Mona once she gets off duty and not think about anything for a few hours."

"Mmmmmm ignoring it doesn't make it go away, Miss Dox. But, settling in with your partner and remembering why you do it all... there are much worse therapies." The leggy lass of a long time ago closed the distance between them, then placed her hand on the shoulder of the smuggler who ran away to join Starfleet.

"Every time I step on that transporter pad I have to roll the dice, even now. It'll always be that way. But sometimes I have to do it, so I grit my teeth and I get on that pad. What gives me the strength to do that is that I know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, if things go sideways, I know all of you will move heaven and earth to get me back." Opening her eyes a bit more, Rita Paris looked solemnly into the eyes of her shipmate. "So trust us, too. We've got you."

While Dox trusted Rita implicitly, she also knew that if worse came to worse, there simply might not be anything anyone could do. But she had enough faith knowing that the crew of the Hera wouldn't stop trying, and that was comfort enough for the moment to get a slight smile on the anxious aviatrix's face.

The concerns she had were still there. Still strong. But they would keep for now. "Thank you, Commander. I think it's time for that troublesome pilot to try and get some rest."

Wrapping her arm about the shoulder of the little lieutenant, the spirit of the 23rd century steered the restless Romulan off the flight deck. "Maybe a drink on the holodeck first in a nice dive bar nowhere near here? I'm buying..."

When Rita Paris had suggested that she and Mnhei'sahe Dox should stop for a drink to help the anxious Romulan pilot to relax, Dox expected the pair to end up in Ten-Forward. But instead they were walking through the doors of a very different kind of establishment.

The D'Naak Spaceport was the kind of small, out of the way station frequented by pirates, smugglers and a generally low level of clientele. The bar was clearly built in a now-defunct cargo hold with no windows. It was dimly lit by flickering overhead lamps and a few old neon-style signs in a few different languages.

It was not often frequented by Starfleet officers. And most certainly not officers that looked anything like the bombastic Rita Paris, who strode in to the grimy establishment like she owned it. At her side, seven plus inches shorter and many kilograms wider was the red-headed Romulan, Mnhei'sahe Dox.

As they two worked their way to the bar, passing a pair of filthy dom-jot tables, every head turned. Paris, stacked and leggy in her anachronistic, 23rd century Gold minidress and Dox in her modern Crimson stuck out like sore thumbs in the sea of aged leather and grease-coated coveralls of the assorted pilots, criminals and cargo jockeys that had stopped at the station for a drink.

Keeping a watchful eye on the crowd as they walked to the half-filled bar for drinks, Dox asked. “I don't know if this is exactly the right kind of place to really unwind and relax, Commander?”

“Maybe not for me, but it certainly is for you,” Paris relied as she swatted away a roving hand trying to snake its way up her skirt, only to realize that wasn’t a hand. “Besides, I figure this kills a few birds with one stone… oh, sorry, pardon the phrasing there…”

Now that Dox was dating Mona Gonadie, the Miradonian aerospace engineer who was in fact an avian life form, Rita realized she had to be more conscious of her phrasings and colloquialisms. Case in point, ‘kill two birds with one stone’ was now potentially insensitive and insulting, so she made a note that she had to be mindful of such things in the future… lest she ‘lay an egg’.

“Point being, you need stress relief, and to get your mind out of that loop it loves so much. So, why not a dive bar where we can get into trouble?” As they sidled up to the bar, the humanoid with some sort of plated ridged forehead regarded them suspiciously.

“What’ll it be, Starfleet?” he muttered in a none-too-friendly tone that made it clear that the pristine and pretty Starfleet officers were unwelcome, but he’d take their credits.
Leaning on her crossed arms over the top of the bar, Dox tilted her head slightly. "Two shots Andorian Ale, and whatever she wants."

Turning towards Rita, Dox smiled lightly. "It was really good at the wedding. And it's good to shake things up from time to time.

“Romulan ale for me,” Rita replied as she reclined on her side against the bar. “Mixing it up is a good thing.” As she scanned over the bar, Rita read the room. Some where hostile, because they were obvious ‘fleeters in a dive bar, which often meant trouble. A few eye contacts resulted in suggestive leers in her direction, which were unsurprising. Rita’s build was generally considered to be a pleasing aesthetic amongst most humanoid races, and while there was no such thing as universal appeal, she came close.

The Tellurite sitting at a nearby table, however, only had eyes for the sturdily-built Romulan redhead, as he seemed quite enamored of her figure, which, leaning over the bar, showcased her generous haunch. As he was joined at his table by a pair of rough-looking Nausicaans, one of whom appeared to be missing an ear, while the other was missing an eye. While what they were saying could not be discerned with their low, rumbling speech, the intention was clear enough.

As their drinks were set on the bar, Paris picked hers up and sniffed, her eyes watering slightly. “Huh. Kinda weak, I suspect,” she muttered, raising her glass in a toast.

Which would not be completed as a large hand reached over her to lift the glass out of her hand.

Turning slightly, a bemused Paris stared the owner of the large hand straight in the chest. Tracking upward, she realized that she was unaware of whatever species this was, but clearly they were larger than human. Tossing down the relatively tiny drink, he set it on the bar and smiled down at the gold-clad commander, which was in no way a reassuring sight.

“S’bad for ya. M’doin ya a favor, girlie,” he rumbled in a barely coherent voice that sounded like tectonic plates grinding together.

Turning around, Dox drank her first Andorian Ale like a shot, with a slightly disappointed look on her face. "Extremely weak."

Putting her glass back on the bar, Dox gestured to the bartender. "Two more. Leave the bottle." As she did, she stepped up next to Rita Paris looking up at the towering whatever that was that took her drink.

"Well, you're huge. What can we do for you?" If the rotund Romulan was concerned, it didn't show on her face. "Because as it stands, you're interrupting our conversation."

“M’talkin to yer friend here, shorty. Wazzit to you?” the rumble of stone on stone voice replied as the large, tall and broad individual in the rather oversized overcoat explained.

Which was when the unmistakable scrape of chairs being pushed back behind her was heard, as the Nausicaans and the Tellurite all rose from their seats.

“Hey hey hey now, calm down, everybody,” Rita Paris held up her hands, back against the bar as she stood between the hulking smooth-skinned alien behemoth and the diminutive Dox. “The big fella didn’t mean any harm, he was just trying to save me from drinking something awful, right big guy?” True to form, Rita was trying to make peace, and convince everyone to find a way to get along.

“This guy bothering you, pretty lady?” the tellurite asked, having invaded Dox’s personal space from behind, one hand on the bar as he appreciated the fulsome aft section of the portly pilot.

Following the tellurite's eyes from what they were fixated on, Dox turned slightly, so that the tellurite remained visible on her left and whatever was harassing Commander Paris was on her right. "So far, everyone's getting along just fine. My friend and I just came in here for a drink. But we're happy to welcome a few more faces."

Dox gestured at the open stools beside them, trying to diffuse a potential powderkeg. "There's plenty of room. We can all have a seat, drink our drinks and talk. Right, Rita?"

“Precisely! How about if we buy you all a round of drinks?” Rita offered congenially, whipping out that million-watt smile of hers that tended to win people over.

“I know what I want a round of,” the Tellurite grunted, grasping Dox’s ample hindquarter with one hairy hand, as his compatriots hooted with what probably passed for laughter.

Knowing what was coming next, Rita pursed her lips and shook her head in regret.

Stepping away slightly, Dox slapped the unwelcome grope away with one hand while backing up to Rita. "Hey there, Mister. This ass is spoken for, thank you very much. Now, how about those drinks?"

With a forced smile on her face, Dox whispered back to Paris, "lesson one: Let them make the first move. Lesson two: target soft tissue. The throat, cartilage, joints."

As she whispered, the Tellurite had decided he had had enough and was going to take what he wanted as he lunged forward to try and grab Dox's wrist to pull her towards him. As her did, the irritated Romulan instead caught him by the hand first, twisting it hard over and bending it backwards. He let.out an almost cartoonist squeal at the unexpected pain as she shoved him away towards his friends.

"So, no drinks then?" Dox said backing up to Rita.

“Okay big fella, you’re not gonna give me any WHOOP!“ Rita began as the hand the size of her torso descended on her, so she sidestepped it. “Come on guys, we don’t want any trouble!”

“Found some,” the lumbering brute turned to refocus on her, even as the Tellurite and the Nausicaans moved in on Dox, getting in one another’s way.

The three advancing on Dox at a time were a problem, so the quick thinking young officer decided to change the order of things. Grabbing a barstool, she flung it at the Tellurite's legs causing him to stumble over it an crash to the deck, blocking the one Nausicaan with the missing ear. This left the one-eyed Nausicaan to attack first while the other two regrouped behind him.

"C'mere, little girl!" He roared as he lunged down at her, clearly having almost two feet on the stout young officer. As he did, Dox leaned to the side, blocking the lunge to redirect his momentum past her towards the bar. As she did, she planted one leg firmly in front of his and dropped her elbow hard into his side. The result was a very large Nausicaan slamming face-first into the bar with enough force to make him extremely angry.

Calling back over her shoulder as the other two advanced, Dox yelled. "How are you doing, Commander?"

In a surprising display of skill and grace, Rita Paris was playing 'keep away' from the lumbering brute who was slow-moving but determined. Sidestepping, deflecting, spinning out of the way and ducking, she wasn't attacking him- but he hadn't laid a finger on her yet, either.

"Oh, you know, doing that dance I know so well- whoop!" Rita stumbled over a guy in chair, rolled with it and came back to her feet, using the fall to get a little distance as someone in the crowd shoved her at the big lunk trying to land her. Grabbing an empty chair, she employed it as a shield as his oversized mitt groped for her.

The slam into the bar had given Hrugl a concussion, and his sinuses were currently filling with his life's blood. But he was up, and he was conscious, and he was going to hurt that little bitch. Grabbing up a barstool, he swung it with all his remaining might, as well as his blurred vision would allow. A nighty blow was struck, as he rebounded the stool off the bar and struck himself in the face with it.

The earless Nausicaan in the dirty red leathers snarled but it came out as more of a snicker. "Am I getting paid for this, Captain?"

"Yes!" roared the bristly Tellurite as he produced a collapsible baton.

"Imirrhlhhse! Dox cursed to herself in Rihan, "Evasion is half the fight, sometimes. In any scenario where you had a phaser, evasion would enable you to use it. But we DON'T have Phasers, Commander. So..."

Suddenly, the Nausicaan still on his feet made his move, taking a swing and barely missing Dox's head as she just barely ducked out of the way. But he was swinging wild, and Dox took advantage.

"He's bigger!" As she shouted, she folded her fingers into a wedge and jabbed hard into the Nausicaan's lower ribs as he swung causing him to grunt in pain but not slow down.

"I noticed!" Paris retorted as he grabbed the chair and hoisted her off the ground with it. Dropping to the floor, she eyed the behemoth who was now armed with her lion taming chair.

"But if he's moving, he has soft spots. What are they!?" As she continued to yell across to Paris, the angry Nausicaan lunged, successfully grabbing Dox by the neck with one hand. She led out a garbled choking sound as her reared his other hand back to hit her.

But in doing so, her brought the much shorter woman in extremely close, and she took that one second window to move. With a sharp snap, she tucked her hand back into the same wedge shape and drove it hard into the trachea of the Nausicaan.

With a sucking gasp, he released Dox and began clutching at his throat, struggling for air. "He... he's breathing. He's looking... He's looking at you..."

I her time Rita Paris had seen plenty of dirty fights, and been involved in a few herself. She knew about the soft spots, she just hated hurting people like that.

Gasping herself, Dox struggled to yell back to Rita hoarsely. "Soft points. Throat. Eyes. Knees. Groin. Go for them like I showed you." As she spoke, she grabbed the gasping Nausicaan by the sides of his head and slammed his face hard into her knee and shoved him back where he crumbled to the ground, now gasping through his own blood at the feet of the Tellurite, who held his baton up but looked decidedly less confident about the whole affair.

"Why are you so determined to fight with me?" Rita ducked and dodged as he tried to use the chair to pin her. "I'm not your enemy, I only want to be friends!"

"M'gonna hump ya," the lumbering brute said thickly, and the eyebrows of the pretty pilot shot up.

"You're going to what now?" Rita worked to keep a table between them in her ongoing game of keep-away.

"M'gonna screw yuh on this table," the brute mumbled, and the buxom blonde's eyes narrowed.

"Okay, mister. I can be a good sport about getting handsy. I mean, I've got a mirror." Rita stepped into his space and let him wrap one of his big mitts around her, surprised at how effective it was at immobilizing her. But it got her very close to him, and a cursory glance revealed just where his genitals were, because he was excited to meet her.

As a runner, Rita Paris had strong legs with great flexibility and muscle tone. So while she was not the best with a punch or a judo chop, her legs were long and strong, and Starfleet had taught her a number of kicks. In this case it was from the soccer field that she brought this particular combat move, as she place-kicked the big bruiser in the genitals.

At which point he grunted. Upon which she followed that kick up with a succession of three more as he held her there, grunting after each impact, until his grip on her relinquished. As he sagged to the ground, Rita Paris snapkicked him across the jaw a few more times for good measure before looking around for Mnhei'sahe Dox.

Across the bar, Dox was standing behind the Tellurite, who was now on his knees as she had his baton in her own hands, pressing hard against the top of his throat as he began to black out. "Time to go to sleep, now. To dream of huge asses."

As he flumped to the ground, face first on the posterior of the first, unconscious Nausicaan, Dox looked over to Rita's handiwork. She tilted her head with a smirk as she commented. "Very effective. He's off of you and hurt. But..."

As Dox spoke, the moans turned into a rageful roar as the brute began to work his way up to his knees. "...Now he's really pissed, and still conscious."

As he began to rise, Dox, from behind, kicked the back of his knee out making him stumble back to the ground for a moment with a thud. "We're talking." She hissed down at him as she tossed the baton over to Rita.

"The judo chops they teach at the academy are effective because they attack a nerve cluster right here." Dox pointed to a spot on the base of her neck. "He's got those same nerves. But he's too dense to just use your hand."

"You're going to keep being unreasonable if I let you up. See, this is why I carry a phaser, because I just don't like this sort of thing," Rita sighed, then eyed the brute as his face contorted into a snarl. Whipping the baton across the intersection of the shoulder and neck of the big lug, Rita still had to hit him a half dozen times before his eyes finally rolled back up in his head and he drooped to the floor.

Tossing the baton back to Dox, Rita muttered, "I still don't enjoy fighting. Still got to get used to it, though." Stepping over the fallen ogre, she headed back for the bar.

"It's better that you don't enjoy it, Commander. Your way is better." Dox conceded. "Unfortunately, this way is necessary sometimes."

At the bar, Dox grabbed the bottle of Andorian Ale and filled the glasses as the rest of the bar patrons gave the pair a wide berth. "So, of all the targets you had, you went straight for his crotch?" The winded Romulan chuckled slightly as she spoke. "Not wrong, but what other key strike points did he have to exploit?"

"Throat, eyes... he didn't have a nose, so joints, as anywhere he bent were likely vulnerable, possibly the instep, unknown if his midsection was soft tissue like in most mammals," Paris easily rattled off. It wasn't that she was unaware of the tactical situation, after all. She just didn't want to use it if she didn't have to. "I went for the crotch because he threatened to molest me- it seemed fitting and poetic."

"Drink in the face could have bought me time," Paris began rattling off her assessment of the situation. "If he'd been more determined with his strikes I could have maneuvered him into taking out one of your opponents for me. I could have improvised a weapon out of the materials at had with a bottle, glass or piece of furniture, or likely swiped a weapon from one of the other bar patrons enjoying being spectators. But you never know what you're going to get there, and far more likely to end up with something deadly in hand that would escalate rather than end the conflict bloodlessly."

Taking another drink, Dox commented with a slight smile. "Excellent. And, yeah. I probably would have brutalized the groin as well. You did the right thing, considering his size, as joint strikes would have likely hurt you more than him. And you likely would have needed to be in your EVA armor for a midsection strike to be effective."

"But..." She added "The main goal with him was to get you past your fear to act. It was a good first step."

Then, the portly pilot looked up. "Computer. 4 antagonists. Human. Level 2 please."

With a chirp, 4 human thugs shimmered into existence at the door. None armed, but all angry looking. The tallest of the three yelled across the room. "Hey, you bitches can't do that to our boys!"

Rolling her eyes, Paris ran her fingers through her short blonde hair, then cracked her knuckles.

"You certainly do choose odd ways to unwind, Miss Dox..."

Risen titans who'd formed themselves out of dark matter and ionic energy was definitely not covered in any class in the 2255 curriculum. Fortunately, the science department would analyze all of that, and find some rhyme and reason. Right now, Commander Rita Paris was making her way aft so that she could catch the one turbolift that led to the Intel Pod, the classified sector of the ship that had restricted access for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which was the armory of exotic technologies.

One of those exotic technologies walked, talked, and proclaimed in a very blustery Missourian accent that the Earth girl still found quite charming.

Making her way to the chief intelligence officer's office, Rita braced herself for whatever the walrus-mustachioed chief spook might be up to this time, as she brought him a question she felt he might be uniquely qualified to answer.

The spook in question, meanwhile, was, indeed, up to something. He was at his workbench, his cybernetic arm in a diagnostic rig, pointing the index finger of his left hand at the aforementioned arm. The fingernail was glowing a brilliant orange, as it emitted a warbling sound.

Clemens was watching a holo-projection of the arm, with an overlay of data streaming from a mounted Starfleet Sciences tricorder, which was set to provide readings continually. As he worked the sonic probe, the readings from the arm and its thorium power cell slowly changed, bit by bit.

The chart was marked with a scale going from ORIGINAL to GOAL, in multiple categories, some of which were moving toward GOAL, a few of which were steady, near the middle, and others which seemed to be stubbornly-fixated at or near ORIGINAL.

The door chime rang, and the bushy-browed braniac glanced at the door scanner, which provided detailed information about the person outside. He quickly read through the details, noting that it said it was Commander Rita Paris, the ship's Executive Officer.

Being the paranoid bastard he was by nature, he looked at the quantum signature section. It checked out with Paris' unique cipher, unmistakeable, and, quite impossible to duplicate. Easy-peasy.

He called out to the computer, "Miss Cohmputah, would yuh please let th'Commanduh in?"

"My pleasure, Samuel." The door unsealed, and opened for one Rita Paris- Golden Girl of the USS Hera.

"Mister Clemens, it's good to see you up, about an looking more in one piece, so to speak. I'm sorry that I couldn't be there during your convalescence, but you know how it is- duty calls. I did bring you a present to make up for it, though." Holding out a colorful box, she produced an antique toy from behind her back. "Amazing what people will scan into a replicator. This is a toy of one of the earliest fictional cyborgs of Earth legend- astronaut Steve Austin. I thought it might tickle your fancy."

Sam was strapped into some sort of workframe, running tests on himself, apparently, but he grinned at Rita, and reached out to take the replica. "Why, thankyuh, C'manduh." He set it on his desk carefully, nodding toward his other arm.

"Ah'm jus' workin' on a lil' stealth project- tryin' t'git mah new pahts t'read a bit moah like...me." He gestured to to holo-display. "Ah'm adjustin' th'SIF t'generate a simulated bio-field...at least that's thuh plan."

"Seems quite plausible given modern science. A sensible plan, Lieutenant." Stepping in and looking around, the fulsome first officer shook her head. "You intel people and your prediliction for working in the dark, I will never understand. Well. I've come to you today because I've an unusual problem, Chief."

"We need to discern the motivation of a titan. An honest to goodness no kidding cosmic power. Who is up, awake, and terraforming entire worlds as if with a snap of her fingers. You up for the task?" You had to give the woman credit- when she was on the case, she didn't pussyfoot around.

The bushy brows went up, then furrowed down. "Now, lemme get sum clariteh- if'n ah r'call muh briefin's from Intel Command, them Titans're a whole 'nother level above th'gawds we've run across, right?" Clemens was looking a bit darker than normal- it was a familiar look.

It was the same mood he'd been in during the pre-mission briefing for Meroset.

{FLASHBACK: Meroset Pre-Briefing}

Up til now, Clemens had let them suss things out, but now, he spoke up, again.

"Friends'n naybuhs... ah'd like tuh make uh point.

...this 'goddess'..."

He pinched his nose between thumb and forefinger, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them, his normally-jolly demeanor was a mixture of sadness, and cold calculus.

"...she's nawt sum slaver we kin jus' stomp in an' beat on 'til she squeals an' rolls ovuh, y'all." He'd been looking at the combat specialists in the room, but then turned his attention to the Counselor. "Norh is she sumwun who's likeleh t'lissen t'ev'n th'mohst skilled peacemakuh. She's got no reahsun tuh. She thinks weah bugs, n'she won' think twice 'bout meltin' ya brayn with tech powah'd by bat'trees thuh size uv stahship enjuns, aftah she rips evvrah sekrit outta yer haid." He shook his head.

"We gotta fight DUHHTY. She can't git wun HINT uv warnin'! Lissen to yer Chief uv Intel, hyeah.

"Awright. Ah'm dun, now." He sat down, wearily.

{Back In the Present}

"Mmmm hmmm. That's the one," Rita confirmed. "So, what I need is to divine the motivation so that we might find some way of convincing the terraforming titan not to roll over the Flintstones on her way to Trill. We've got three days til we reach encounter range, and we should have around 16 hours to figure out how she's terraforming planets. In the meanwhile, I need someone to determine her motivation, and how we might talk her out of this. Gaia's a cosmic being- I don't think this is going to be a problem solved by quantum torpedoes."

The ginger gambler pondered on the problem for a moment, and queried, "Izzat thuh same titan that got a piece of 'er stuck in owah holladeck?"

"Apparently so. If our compassion impressed her, we may find out. Unfortunately it's not something we can rely upon with any certainty as a strategy. I like where your head's at though, Chief. Okay, keep it coming," Paris encouraged the unconventional intelligence officer to elaborate on his impressions. "This is what I need, some grandiose spitballing."

The Man from Missouri shook his head. "Boss, ah' gotta say- this may be a problem uv scalin'. Until Hera got thuh wind knock'd outta 'er sails, she had not one whit uv int'rest in owah wants oah needs. If'n this titan is thuh real deal, she's gonna be sev'ruhl oahduh's ov magnitude olduh than Hera. An' based on huh sheeah size, yuh right- there ain't no weapon we could build that'd make huh even blink.

"No, no..." he started pacing. "If theah's s snowball's chance in hell, it's eithuh gonna be pretty tawk, oah flat out duhty deeds, done at some expense. An' thuh currency is likleh t'be nuthin we'll be happy 'bout." He turned, suddenly, facing his Executive Officer.

"We gotta git an inside ang'uhl. How much goodwill d'yuh reckon Miss Dawx built-up with thaht shahd she got outta thuh holladeck, y'think?"

"We're going to find out. And hopefully pretty talk and compassion can win the day. That doesn't mean we're not going in without a backup plan," Paris explained.

Clemens looked at the Golden Girl with a deadly calm. "Speakin' uv spitballin'...fuh my paht, ah'm offerin' t'link to th'ship's main cum'putuh via mah cybuhnetics, an' connect with Miss Dawx via whateveuh psionic linkage y'all devise- that oughta add some stability an' extra horsepowuh to this whole co'labboratshun. It'll give the Hera command staff thuh 'bility t'mohnituh thuh link."

"I have considerable reservations about that concept," Paris added. "I'd like to see some simulations of you connecting to the ship's computer in the manner that you are describing here, before we endanger both you and the ship's computer as well in such a scheme. However, it's likely to be the best way to introduce an alteration to one of the protomatter seeds she's firing out, to reprogram them before they leave her. That will be trying to use Miss Dox's link as our backdoor and the ship's computer to do all the hard math for the reprogramming, with you as the link between the two."

"With that in mind, get on that angle. Dig up everything you can on the original Genesis program and specifically, the programming. Carol and David Marcus programmed paradises into those devices, and if we can get her to at least not make worlds hostile to humanoid life, that's an step. Unless you think you can stop the effect entirely?" Paris put it out there, as she was curious which way the southern sidewinder would choose.

"If'n ah had muh druthuhs, an' ah def'nit'lee do, stoppin' thuh 'fect is thuh way t'go," he affirmed. "Syuh, syuh, it's nice when it's makin' a rawk inta uh paradise, but even thuh chance that she could be wipin' out life on that scale in a diff'runt locale just t'redecorate is in-tol-uh-ruh'bul!" He was clearly steamed at the casual way the titan seemed to be proceeding. He rubbed his eyes, and took a deep breath, and then added, "Of thuh two, shuttin' it down has uh highuh chance uh'werkin', 'cause it involves less movin' pahts, an' happens earleeuh in th'process."

"Gaia's still got a few more worlds before she hits an inhabited one, so don't for a moment imagine I wasn't bearing sentient life into the equation, Mister Clemens," the fulsome first officer explained with an arched brow. "But if you think you can disrupt the effect, then pursue that angle and prepare for it. That's officially plan 'B' if my patented pretty words don't succeed. Understood?" Paris knew she was no closer to divining Gaia's reasoning for seeding these worlds as she had. But when it came to the Intel chief, one took what one got more often than not.

"So get to work on it, and keep me apprised of progress, Chief."

Clemens nodded, adding an "Aye, ma'am," as he rubbed his eyes, and turned to his terminal, already muttering to himself about knowing "kung-fu".

~Fin?

Mona had been working on the new software package for her new variable mode fighter for a day now and it was time to test it out and work out a few more bugs. To do that though, the simulators weren't quite up to par so she was now climbing into the Thunderchicken, an EVA suit on. As the ship was at warp she couldn't leave the hangar, but what she needed to do, she could do just on the deck itself.

Strapping into the single seater cockpit, she closed up the canopy and booted up the new holographic systems. It didn't give anywhere near the spectrum she was used to, but it did give a bit more than what most races could see at least and the HUD systems could show currents and eddies if any were present. Having redesigned the cockpit a bit so she could see around her holographically, except where the seat and controls were was one of the main features she was looking forward to and that was working well, it seemed. The triple redundant systems for that also checked out.

All sensor systems read green across the board. Weapon systems showed green as well, though she wasn't charging them. Deflectors as well as shields were green, but she left the shields unpowered. The SIF read at two hundred percent capacity, which was something she had calculated for. With the locking joints, winglets, and limbs, in this mode the SIF generator had to work double duty to keep structural integrity. Quickly running through the rest of the checklist, everything else read as green and nominal so she kicked in the transformation sequence, sending the Thunderchicken into fighter mode.

In about the space of a second, the cockpit reoriented itself, the four limbs folded in and locked into place against the primary hull, and the turret head reoriented to just over the canopy. As for the oversized TR-116C, It had been tucked up under the hull of the Thunderchicken like some sort of added payload.

Mona then checked the SIF generator and general structural integrity. The generator read at 100% and integrity was stable with all positions locked perfectly. Pulling the craft around into a spin, she tested it for a moment to make sure it didn't dip and to her surprise, it didn't. She barely even felt the high speed in place turn which meant the inertial dampeners were doing their jobs as well.

Hitting the transform controls again, she popped the Thunderchicken back into walker mode. This transformation took about 1.2 seconds but was just as impressive as the limbs popped out and unfolded, the cockpit reoriented, and the 'head' seemed to flare to life at the top of the walker. Gently, she rested the feet of the Thunderchicken on the deck and took a few tentative steps.

Which were solid.

Grinning, Mona knew she had gold on her hands.

Stepping on the deck but staying on her side of the painted Yellow lines on the floor, Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox had a PaDD in hand and was actively monitoring Ensign Gonadie's progress with a pleased half-smile. The rotund Romulan tapped her comm badge to speak to her Miradonian co-worker and partner. "Dox to Gonadie. Looking like your baby is exceeding expectations here."

"That she is. At this rate, we'll be ready for full live flight testing as soon as we come out of warp." Mona knew she couldn't get approval for testing on an actual mission, but she could still hope. "There's also something I whipped up and added that you might be interested in." She then activated the stealth unit she had built in, cloaking the fighter to sensors and to sight.

With a gasp, Dox's eyes went wide as she took it in.

Mona deactivated the 'cloak' and flipped the Thunderchicken's transformation controls one more time, she checked to make sure everything went smoothly, then extended the landing gear and set the bird down on the deck and popped the canopy open. She then hopped out and popped open one of the side access panels, revealing something that looked suspiciously like a Romulan cloak, but with a Miradonian twist. "I took the liberty of scanning those cloaking devices we returned and used some Miradonian tech to simulate one. It uses a third of the power and runs on a ferrium ion core."

"It's amazing work. You may have essentially solved the energy curve dilemma that's dogged Romulan and Klingon scientists for generations." But Dox's expression was one of slight concern. "However, I'm pretty sure this would be a violation of the Treaty of Algeron if we kept it functional, wouldn't it?"

"As a protectorate member of the Federation rather than a full member world, that doesn't apply to my people. I claim this fighter as my personal craft." Mona had a shit eating grin on her face as she said that. She leaned in and explained a bit. "The reason we're a protectorate member is because my people were almost hunted to extinction and we're only at around three million strong. heavily endangered for a warp capable race. And don't worry, I won't be sharing the secrets of this little doodad with anyone other than you."

"Who has already briefed Starfleet intelligence on everything she knows about Cloaking devices, can field strip and reassemble one and is therefore not at risk of... contamination." Dox grinned.

"You'll still have to try and get that rationale past Commander Paris, though. And since the Thunderchicken here was constructed with Starfleet resources under Starfleet aegis, for Starfleet purposes, that might not fly. But if anyone can win that debate, it's you."

Looking at the beautiful craft, Dox allowed herself the briefest of brushes against Mona's arm as she stepped past to examine the ship. "Otherwise, it's... It's astounding. How's she handle so far?"

Mona enjoyed the brush and though she pined for more, she maintained discipline. "So far wonderfully. She should have the full range of maneuverability of her older siblings in fighter mode and full humanoid range of motion in walker mode. I can't wait to get out and run actual field tests. I'd also like to add in the neuro-link flight control system I've been working on, but I feel it's still a few years of testing away from functional."

"In the meantime, I know Doctor Dael has made some incredible leaps concerning Lieutenant Clemens' cybernetic enhancements. Particularly in regards to his ability to link with them neurologically. Might shave a little research time off for you to schedule a consultation."

Chuckling slightly at the thought, Dox turned to Mona. "And to think that I was worried I'd be drummed out of the fleet for having minor genetic modifications, while Mr. Clemens was enhanced to the point of being a living weapon and nobody blinked. Being on an Intel ship really does seem to have it's perks."

"Yes it does. And if someone doesn't like that I created a Miradonian stealth unit on a whim, I'll take it out and put it in your ship. There's another perk." Mona giggled softly as she pressed against her Minay lightly.

Even though their crimson uniforms, Dox could feel Mona's energy, which always brought the young Romulan woman an indefinable comfort. As she paused to take it in, she mumbled slightly under her breath. "Yeah... Rita would have a conniption."

"Let's not go there. The Commander has made it clear that no Starfleet resources are to go toward anything having to do with Artan business. And that ship is certainly Artan business, I'm afraid." Dox commented, referring to her personal ship, the Khallianen, gifted to her when she became a Baroness of the Captain's Pirate family.

Mona thrummed for just a moment before breaking contact. "Well, that stealth unit is my business. I made it on my time with my brain power and my people's modified tech. If I want to give it to my mate, that too is my business. Besides, I have an agreement with the Captain that I and my family retain all rights to all my inventions."

The break in contact was harsh to Dox, who still had virtually no mental defenses to speak of. But she tried to not let that show on her face. "I'm sorry. I don't want to seen ungrateful. It's just that this tribunal has been very... difficult. Defining that line in the proverbial sand between the Starfleet side and the Captain's family and... my own... has meant a lot of gray areas that I'm not 100% comfortable with."

Her professional defenses dropped slightly, in the presence of an officer that was also her mate. She looked around to be sure that the slip to come wasn't seen or heard by anyone but them. "I think what you've done here is... beyond amazing. And I'd love to let you run wild in the Khallianen. But Commander Paris is so against everything having to do with the Captain making me a Baroness that I feel like I'm walking on eggshells even talking about it. I'm... proud that the Captain trusts me in this capacity, but I'm also guilty at that pride. Like it goes against the uniform, if that makes sense."

Sensing the conflict within her mate, Mona moved back into contact with Dox, this time going in for a full hug, their cheeks pressed together. "You are who you are, Minay. Do not deny that. You are your mother's daughter, my mate, a Starfleet officer, a great pilot, a Baroness of the Artan family, a smuggler, a Reunificationist, friend and family to many, and so much more... These things do not define you, but are a part of the greater whole that make up Mnhei'sahei Dox. Once you realize that, you will know inner peace."

With her cheek pressed against Mona's, she barely needed to speak as she felt their energies beginning to mingle again. But she still spoke aloud in a whisper. "Right now, just the second one is more than enough."

Then, while they were still pressed together, their minds touching, Dox whispered in her native tongue or Rihan, "I-jol au."

It meant 'I love you', but with their minds touching, Mona needed no translation as it's meaning flowed directly into her.

Mona repeated the phrase in Miradonian, though the translation was more 'You, love I'. "Trrr' mree scu." Still, the feeling flowed both ways, needing no translation.

Slowly, Dox pulled away with a warm smile. "Trrr' mree scu." She repeated. "No surprise the language is as beautiful as you. I need to learn that."

Then she tugged down on her uniform top and cleared her throat as she looked around again. With a sneaky grin, she commented. "Okay, we got away with THAT. So... Back to business. When do I get to take her for a walk?"

"If you don't mind staying within the yellow lines, right now." Mona grinned mischievously, motioning towards the open cockpit.

With a smile as broad as her chubby cheeks would allow, Dox handed her PaDD to Mona. "Well then, there's no time like the present, is there?"

Stepping forward with more than a little bit if childlike glee, Dox climbed into the cockpit. It was similar to the other Cyclone ships, with slight variations. Out of habit, Dox ran a basic pre-flight systems check to familiarize herself with the systems as she sealed the cockpit and flipped on the open Comm with the flight deck. "Okay Miss. Gonadie. walk me through walking."

Stepping well out of the yellow box, Mona replied over the comms. "It's just like the others, but with legs. Hit the transform controls and keep an eye on the SIF generator and make sure it stays stable at two hundred percent. then settle back on the deck and move the throttle slightly, letting the onboard systems handle the actual steps."

"Aye." Dox replied as her hands ran across the controls. As she did, there was a slight clanging sound in the cockpit as the ship changed configuration and quickly rose up into it's walker mode. She paused for a moment as the controls and muscle memory felt familiar to her as she realized it was an echo from her connection to Mona.

Smiling, she put the humorously monikered 'Thunderchicken' through a series of basic walking tests for a few minutes, testing each system one at a time. In the excitement of the moment, Dox allowed a slip in protocol as she let out a giddy laugh. "Mona, this is AMAZING!"

Mona couldn't help but giggle a bit as well. "Isn't it? Pull up the targeting system, but keep the safeties on. See if you can get positive locks on the various other shuttles in the bay with both the phasers and the rifle."

Following the instructions, Dox pulled up the tageting HUD with projected clearly on to the inside of the canopy. With the safety interlocks in place, the right arm raised up the TR-116C,moving rapidly from Target to target. Switching to the controls for the dorsal turret that acted as the walkers 'head', Dox repeated the actions. "These are by far the smoothest movements I've ever felt from robotic limbs. It's astounding. There's almost zero rocking when the arms move. Did you equip the gyro systems with their own Inertial dampeners?"

"That's right. Every limb segment has triple redundant gyros and inertial dampeners." Mona grinned as she watched the limb movements from the outside. "The twin micro quantum torpedo launchers are also multitargetable and can launch ten warheads at a time."

"Very, very impressive. I think we're going to have to peel Commander Paris out of the cockpit with a tractor beam once she gives it a test walk." With which, Dox walked the ship back to position and entered the sequence to convert it back to vehicle mode.

Within a few moments, the Thunderchicken was in it's original position and safely powered down as Dox slid out of the cockpit, virtually bouncing with excitement. "Absolutely brilliant! I love it!"

"Isn't it? I'm honestly amazed I was able to fit everything everywhere I needed to while keeping the whole thing from flying apart. I also included an entire sample collection system in both arms as well. It's insane!" Mona was clearly just as excited.

"This is revolutionary. It really is. But I'm not even a little amazed that you pulled this off. You are beyond brilliant." The smile on Dox's face was as broad as ever, being with pride for Mona's accomplishment.

"Well, I do have to be brilliant for a lot of people... So I do my best." Mona tried to be modest, but inside, she was beaming as well.

With a wry smirk, Dox pulled out her PaDD, going over the vehicle specs as she spoke. "Well, of the many people you need to be brilliant for, I represent two of them. And rest assured, both of us are extremely impressed. So, are there any other surprises?"

"Other than the ability to wield a pair of those oversized rifles? And that I added to it a plasma gauss rifle mode that doesn't use the internal ammunition magazine but draws off of the craft's reactor which had to be boosted by eighty percent to power those limbs? Not that I can think of." Mona looked a bit smug at that admission.

"Eighty percent? This is going to change the game for sure, Mona. And Commander Paris is going to lose her mind. I can't wait for us to be able to take her out of the ship for full testing once this mission is over." Checking the time on her PaDD, Dox saved out her file and folded her arms behind her back. "And with that, we are both officially off duty."

Mona sidled up enticingly. "Then what do you say we go get something to eat and make sweet telepathic love to each other for hours on end?"

"I would say that you read my mind, but that would be impossibly cliche, wouldn't it?" Dox smiled as she tucked her PaDD into her back pocket.

As the two began walking to the flight deck entrance, Dox tilted her head slightly and chuckled as she spoke. "So, I have to ask... where did you get the name 'thunderchicken'?"

Mona shrugged as she walked with her Minay. "I crossed the English names of the Romulan Thunderbird and the Miradonian Chickenhawk. I figured combining our two legendary birds into one creation of love would be fitting for such a conglomeration of Romulan and Miradonian ingenuity."

As the walked, Dox eyebrows scrunched up slightly. "That is... Bizarrely romantic and wonderfully perfect. I couldn't have though of a better name for our giant, transforming robot baby."

Arriving at the VIP guest quarters where she had enshrined the namesake of the vessel, the Greek goddess Hera, Commander Rita Paris approached the Amazonian guards posted outside the door.

At least this time none of them challenged her, which she took as a positive sign

Hera, by virtue of her presence, made certain realities come to pass. Pregnancies aboard the USS Hera had skyrocketed. The marriage rate had also taken a sharp increase. When the sweep of the Security force had required recruitment, most of the applicants had been female. All of the security force appeared to be 'bulking up' to some degree, as she had once casually pointed out that Amazons always sought her out to serve her. She simply attracted them... and here they were.

Of course, these wore Starfleet uniforms and obeyed orders. So Rita didn't particularly object.

"Glonk, good to see you beat that head cold. Lewandowski, been working those biceps again I see." Paris congenially addressed the security team- after all they worked directly for her, and she knew all of the personnel in her department. She might not be able to detail the Treaty of Algeron, but she knew the names and faces of all of her subordinates.

"Computer, please unseal hatch, VIP Quarters 8, authorization Paris, R, LTCDR, 867-5309," the anachronistically-attired antique asked, as the computer chirrupped and asked a random security question.

=^= What is your date of birth? =^=

"February 13th, 2233," Paris called out. The computer chirupped again and the hatch unsealed.

"Computer, eliminate security question passcode on this hatch on my order. Authorized personnel only, but authorization code alone will suffice moving forward."

=^= Acknowledged, Commander Paris. =^=

"Thank you, Computer," Rita acknowledged. After all the ship's computer WAS the ship, and it paid to be nice to the sentient starship. Stepping inside the quarters, Rita called out. "Hera, it's Rita. Up for a little conversation?"

"For you, any time," replied Hera, setting aside the book she seemed to perpetually have in hand and motioning towards a glass covered serving tray full of small chocolate covered tarts with a chocolate cookie crust. "Would you care for a peanut butter and chocolate tart? I used a recipe from that cookbook by Martha Stewart and they are absolutely divine."

"I shouldn't... I'm a little bloaty at the moment," Rita rubbed her lower tummy a bit. "I did bring you a new book though. This is 'Hero of a Thousand Faces'. It's a seminal philosophical work from one of our greats, and a personal favorite of mine. The first true identification of the 'heroes journey' and the myths that inspired it. Sort of a 'what we did with what you taught us' sort of thing- I thought you might enjoy it." With that, Rita handed over the book.

It wasn't very old, and it certainly wasn't a first printing. But it was replicated paper, it was at least a few decades old and she had actually purchased it on Earth. It was, in point of fact, her own copy she'd bought for herself- but Hera was a voracious reader and perennially bored, so Rita felt an obligation to keep the reformed goddess' mind stimulated. Thus a loaner of her copy.

"Ohh, thank you," Hera took the book and looked it over, handling it delicately. She could see the telltale signs that it was well cared for and that it was indeed loved by Rita. "I'll get it back to you as soon as I've finished with it." Setting it aside on her reading table separate from her other books, she made a mental note to read it next. "So what is it you'd like to speak about?"

"In this case, it's a bit more than just me. I'm not sure how to tell you this, or if you already know, but... Gaia has awakened. Like, completely awake and active, and she's out there terraforming planets. I was hoping that you might be able to come brief the senior staff on what you know about titans, since... well, you are officially the only person on board who has ever clashed with a titan." Rita couldn't resist the play on words, although this was certainly no joking matter.

Hera's demeanor darkened at those words. "Then the day I feared has come. I will give you what information I can and what I believe you will understand. The rest, I will entrust to you." Hera tossed her shawl around her shoulders and slipped her sandals on, then nodded to Rita. "Lead on, my friend."

"Look at you, all ready to go charge off to brief the troops, not even a consideration for what's in it for you, not a hesitation to help. I'm so proud of you," Rita smiled she she led Hera to the door. "Computer, please unseal hatch, VIP Quarters 8, authorization Paris, R, LTCDR, 867-5309."

As the door slid open, Rita Paris stopped between Glonk and Lewandowski. "Ladies, we're taking Hera for a walk up to to Deck 7. Fore and aft, if you please." As Lewandowski stepped forward into the corridor, Rita held out her arm for the starship's namesake.

"Well, the fate of the galaxy is in your hands now. Who am I to deny the Fates and Lady Time?" The matronly goddess chuckled softly as she followed along with Rita. "I just hope I can be of some help."

"So say we all..."

-----------

In the deck seven forward conference room, Enalia had arrived early and brought several trays of assorted danishes, donuts, and pastries that her wife had prepared for the occasion and after unsealing them and arranging them on the bar, she got the coffee and tea replicators going, making sure there were enough cups and mugs for everyone.

Oddly, the room already smelled strongly of fresh coffee.

She then snagged a cheese danish and a cup of coffee, noting that the replication unit had chosen a custom recipe that Hera had programmed in herself. Enalia just chuckled softly at the slightly independent choice of the ship's computer as she took her seat at the head of the conference table.

Strolling in with a goddess on her arm was her second in command, Rita Paris, with the starship's namesake, Hera herself. Pausing to instruct the Security officers to wait inside the door and not to challenge anyone, she turned the Grecian beauty loose on the pastries and coffee.

Stepping over to offer the spotted captain a report, Rita offered a nod of respect, as the Captain disliked formality and saluting when it wasn't called for. "Hera's aware of the situation and she's volunteered to tell us what she knows, at least what we can grasp. Since Sonak will be here I assume that's a lot, but metaphysics definitely isn't my specialty."

"This might be a meeting to look forward to for once, then," Enalia replied with a grin.

Noting her security officers fidgeting, Rita chuckled, then sighed in mock frustration. "Yes, Lewandowski, you can both have a few donuts and some coffee. You're on standby, so be ready for trouble like always, just not proactive. Remember our talk? Active defense versus passive? This is a passive defense situation, right."

Hera laughed softly as she collected a pair of pastries and a cup of coffee. "I swear I'll be good. I'm doing my best to suppress all my powers and domains as well so if there's any trouble, it won't be from me."

With that, Rita found a seat, indicated the one next to her for Hera and settled in with a cup of sweet black coffee to wait for the rest of the senior staff to report in for the briefing.

Hera took the offered seat and nibbled on one of her pastries, eliciting a slight moan. "Mmmph... You treat your crew well, Captain Telvan. These are better than those made by the Greek artisans of Olympus."

"Thank you, I'll be sure to let my wife know how much you appreciate her cooking," the spotted woman replied with a satisfied grin.

The door slid open as the Andorian chief engineer stepped through the door. She was hastily doing up her jacket and her hair was still slightly wet. " Sorry if I'm late we had a coolant leak down in Main Engin...." The Andorian said as she noticed the Greek goddess in the room. " Hello. Hope you're enjoying your namesake...?" She said, a little shocked at seeing the goddess out of her room.

"I am, thank you," replied the matronly goddess with a bright smile.

The door opened to reveal CMO Asa Dael, fresh off the night shift and voraciously hungry. At first all the lieutenant saw was coffee and pastries, and quickly grabbed a few chocolate covered donuts with sprinkles and a huge cup of coffee, smiling at the aroma as they took the seat the other side of Hera.

Squeezing her arm gently in a friendly greeting, Asa said, “Hey there, lady. How have you been? Get your delivery from Earth?”

"I did! Thank you so very much!" Hera bumped shoulders with Asa and giggled happily as she munched on one of her danishes.

As the others talked, Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox walked in. She was visibly anxious due to the nature of their new mission and kept her head down as she grabbed a mug of coffee and took a seat by the far end of the table.

The red-headed Romulan woman had a PaDD with all the current mission data on it that she pulled out to re-read while she waited for the briefing to begin, hoping to look busy.

Ila walked in as well, three PaDDs in hand. Barely glancing up, she handed one PaDD to each Enalia and Rita. "The Commodore just sent the latest scan data from both the Amaterasu and the Photon. Gaia is already building up to launch an attack on Flint 7. The latest probe scans of Hemaphas 9 is in there as well. The ecosystem is starting to settle down a bit, thankfully. Only about twenty percent of the ecosystem seems to be carnivorous."

Taking the PaDD with a nod of acknowledgment, Paris began scanning the data. In truth, most of the technical jargon went over her head. She wouldn't know a gluino from a quark if they bit her, and generally instances like this just reinforced just how ill-educated she was in the modern day. But as always, she gamely pressed on, trying to make heads or tails of the data.

"Thank you," Enalia said, taking the PaDD and looking it over. Most of it might as well have been in Iconian for all she understood though. She leaned in closer to Rita to mumble something softly to her. "We're going to need someone to explain this very simply..."

"Here I thought it was just me. Once the crew are assembled we'll ask Dedjoy to break it down- Ila's pretty good at understanding that not all of us are rocket surgeons," Rita muttered out of the side of her mouth, even as she handed the PaDD over to Hera to take a look. After all, she might not have caught the latest quiche recipes in the past two millennia, but the fallen goddess had an intuitive grasp of physics that exceeded modern scientific understanding.

Hera looked over the data and hummed over it a moment before pointing something out. "Oh, she's still using a pseudo-dimensional harmonic in her protomatter matrix. If you destabilize her... But you don't have that tech yet... Hmmm..."

It was a full minute after the appointed time when Sonak entered the room. He went straight to his commanding officer and stood at attention.

''Captain, I offer my apologies for being this late. There was a simulated protomatter study on the main holodeck that needed to be shutdown properly for the results to be significant; and this took more time than initially calculated. Protomatter, even in simulated form, is pretty unstable so all our attention in the science department was required.''

He took a pause to straighten himself.

''I do not offer this as an excuse, Captain; I only wish to provide you an explanation for the exactness of your record. I shall take the appropriate disciplinary action you deem adequate.''

Enalia took a moment to look up at Sonak. "As there are others yet to arrive still and it was critical duties that pertained to this meeting that delayed your arrival, I feel that no disciplinary actions are necessary. Now please help yourself to the refreshments if you feel so inclined and take a seat."

''Aye, Captain,'' simply acknowledged the Vulcan before taking his appointed seat. As usual, he took nothing while on duty, which was no effort for someone used to fast for weeks under the scorching Vulcan sun since childhood.

His eyebrow did however lift slightly hearing the captain's serious reply. It contrasted sharply with the devil-may-care attitude of his former commanding officer, Captain Michael Stuart of the USS Exeter, who would have seized the opportunity to tickle the Vulcan's overseriousness with the likes of ''we witheld the court martial for another occasion,'' or such typical human banter.

But Captain Telvan was not Human. This was not the Exeter. And this was another place, another time. It was good to be reminded so.

Enalia then looked back down at the PaDD in her hands. "Mister Sonak, You can probably make more use of this than I can. It's the latest readings from the Photon and Amaterasu." She then passed the data device down to the Vulcan Science Chief.

"Good thing we're both pretty and clever," Rita muttered under her breath, where only Enalia and presumably those with exceptionally sharp hearing could detect.

''Thank you,'' answered Sonak.

No one could ever have told if it was for receiving the data from his commanding officer, or in response to the compliment of his superior officer who happened also to be his wife.

Or for both.

Sonak might have been Vulcan and even more a kolinarh master, devoid of any emotion, it was obvious to those who knew him that he was mastering human humor quite well; again thanks to his wife as much as decades of service among them.

His face was therefore a mask of blankness as he rapidly scanned the data on the PaDD. But at the end, merely seconds later, an arched eyebrow rose over his left eye.

''Fascinating,'' he muttered to himself. Then his attention came back to the briefing.

The Southernly Spook of Some Sophistication stood, smiling sheepishly, breaking the low-level holo-projection he'd cast over himself and his briefing materials in the early morning hours.

"G'mornin', Cap'n, ahl," he drawled, explaining his appearance, "...ah've been here a while, 'a diggin' over these repoahts, an' didn' notice mah field cloahk sleep mode wuz still active from th'testin, last night. He walked over to the carafes and refreshed his large mug of straight black coffee, and grabbed a stack of various breakfast items.

"Excellent," Enalia grinned and motioned towards Hera. "Now that everyone we need is present, Hera, would you be so kind as to tell us what you can about Gaia?"

"Of course, Captain." Standing, Hera looked over the gathered officers with a concerned look, sizing them up. She knew them to be capable in their own right, but she just hoped that the new generation of mortals that they were were up to the task, however they chose to handle it.

"Gaia is the one that seeded much of the life in this galaxy and predates the Q, Prophets, the Preservers, Iconians, and my people. When this galaxy was just forming suns, she and Primordius formed from dark matter clouds as opposing intelligences and began a sort of yin and yang balance against each other. millions of years after their sweep across the young galaxy started, many of us knew we had to stop them and the other Titans that had similarly formed as their direct descendants."

"So my people and several others combined our powers and overthrew them, casting them from this plane using quantum resonance with their dark matter matrix. I don't believe you have the power to create a resonance strong enough to do that, nor would I condone doing so again, as it caused a great pain in the universe that took many millions of cycles to heal. As for her actual body once formed, both Gaia and Primordius will be composed of dark, proto, and normal matter in a semi-stable matrix. Her mind will be akin to a hive mind, with an overreaching Queen at the lead."

"Also, if she feels as though she has been personally wronged, she will seek vengeance. How fast or severe that vengeance is enacted, depends upon how fast Primordis can consume systems. They may be counter to one other, but they're also part of one other. Primordis consumes and Gaia creates. If she's on the move, that means he is as well."

Leaving that bombshell to hang in the air, Hera sat back down, having finished her briefing on the nature of Gaia.

Enalia sat there stunned for a moment before clearing her throat and proceeding with the meeting. "Mister Sonak, Gaia's protomatter weapon seems to have some passing resemblance to the Genesis device. Would you care to brief us on that as well as your recent research you've been doing?"

The Vulcan chief science officer activated the holoprojector to show them the full data and recordings while he summarized it.

''The Genesis Device was a sophisticated technological innovation designed and completed in 2285, Earth calendar, by a team of scientists led by Doctor Carol Marcus and her son, Doctor David Marcus, on the Spacelab Regula I in the Mutara sector. The objective was to alleviate sociological problems such as overpopulation and limited food supplies. The device initiated a process of rapid terraforming, by which previously uninhabitable planets could be turned into class M worlds. This was accomplished by launching a torpedo-shaped projectile, into a lifeless planet. Upon impact, the device detonated to reduce the entire area to subatomic particles. A preprogrammed matrix then reassembled these subatomic particles into the desired configuration, much like our current replicators do, creating an inhabitable environment within a matter of hours, regardless of the test area's original composition. Unfortunately, if the device was detonated where life already existed, it could prove to be a very powerful doomsday weapon, destroying all life in favor of its new matrix.''

He made the tridimensional image focus on a specific set of data before continuing.

''The project ultimately failed because Doctor David Marcus' eagerness to find shortcuts to keep support from the Federation Council prompted him to include protomatter in its Genesis matrix; this resulted in rapid aging of the affected area until it literally tore itself apart in an explosion almost as tremendous as the one that had created it. Although this caused the project to be abandoned, it's data proved useful to improve on terraforming technology in the 24th century.''

The projection now isolated the data about protomatter as he finished.

''In the simplest terms, protomatter is a highly unstable state of matter, somewhat akin to matter as plasma is to energy; a transitory state between matter and energy, but closer to actual matter than plasma. Hence why it is by nature highly unstable. It is a natural transient state that existed briefly at the moment of initial expansion of the multiverse. It can still be found in nature under very specific conditions; it can also be recreated artificially under certain conditions, as our experimental simulations her on board recently confirmed. This is why it is so dangerous... and so coveted by any intelligence wishing to actually wield the... power of creation.''

His steely grey eyes then swept over the assembly as he finished.

''Here, as a much as a matter of cosmic history as that of cosmic balance, the power of creation implies equally the power of destruction.''

Raising her hand, Paris chimed in somewhat hesitantly, reading from her notes on the PaDD in her hand. “I believe I read a summary of the Genesis Project that included the observation that the instability of the Genesis planet was caused due to it being created from the remains of the Mutara Nebula, rather than the protomatter being the problem in itself, speculating that the Genesis effect would have been successful if it had been used on a lifeless planet as it had been originally intended. Do you believe that the planets created by this being would be stable? Also, do we have any idea precisely how she is achieving this effect. I believe we have data from the Ameratsu and the Photon verifying this?”

Sonak nodded.

''Affirmative; our universe alone is proof that protomatter will contribute to a stable material creation. And if we are to believe myth, such beings do have the energy and the know how to properly achieve this stability using protomatter. Our simulation confirmed this.''

Clemens a'hemmed, and hearing no objections, brought up a report he'd prepared on the effects of psionic energies on matter to the viewscreen. It was in a very old format, and used a classified category that, in its day, was far higher than most field personnel would have had access to.

"Ah was gonna brang this'n up at a diff'runt meetin', but th'C'mnanduh's gotta poynt," he noted, pointing out specific areas.

"A'cord'n t'this, heah, some high-level eh'spuhs aboahd thuh 'riginal NCC-1701 were capable uv mattuh transmutay'shun on uv massive scale, pah'shully terrafoahmin' Delta Vega."

He addressed the goddess, "May'uhm- izzit pahssibul that someone killed durin' a pro-toe mattuh based terrafoahmin act'shun could influence how it all turns out? 'Speshully if'n they had an espeshully powaful mind?"

Hera thought it over a moment, running a few scenarios in her head. "Yes, if for example I were on a planet that were targeted, I believe that upon my death and subsequent rebirth I could redirect the protomatter matrix into evolving into an identical evolutionary clone of the destroyed planet. The people would not be the same as before... But evolutionarily, the flora and fauna would be identical and since any structures would remain..."

"And that sounds a bit too much like sacrificing yourself," interrupted Enalia. "One more question then... What's the current status of Genesis and protomatter tech and will that help us figure out a defense? Yeoman Dedjoy? Lieutenant Clemens?"

"Well, it's been used to destroy a whole ton, but mostly because no one managed t'git a chance tuh actually try t'build with it uthuh than thuh Gennie-sys Cayve. Since th'Khan Incident, every deliberate use, an' a few screwups, has been t'wreck someone or somethin'. It ain't a mattuh of materials oah skill, it's intent. Thuh tech is sound- an' ah disagree with thuh notion that usin' it on thuh Mutara Nebula caused it tuh blow up latuh. Everuh 'nalysis of all the tests and uses of thuh process since have called it clean- it's paht uv a natural method ov creation."

The wild-haired winder of clockwerks paused, and brought up a dossier of one Khan Noonien Singh.

"Based on Hera's cohnfuhmayshun, mah suspicion is that thuh cuhntaminashun that caused th'Gennie-sys Planit t'blow all too hayl'n'damnation wasn't physical- it was psychic. Thuh man who detonated thuh original d'vice apparently hated Cap'n Kirk with a fiery pah'shun. He was one of thuh orig'nal Augments, and had a phenom'nal mind. The Genesis Planet showed no sign of instabiliteh until thuh arrival of th'Enterprise."

Animations to this effect showed a wild-eyed Khan shaking his fist at Enterprise, then closing it around the nascent Genesis Planet, with a cartoonishly-shocked Kirk gaping at the viewscreen.

"Hera confuhm'd that thuh introduc'shun uv a whole mess uh'crazy could cause thuh finished product t'fail like a shaken souffle. Given this- maybe it's paw-sibuhl t'intra'duce a psionic pulse durin' thuh initialization phase of Genesis an' cause it ta crash earleh 'nuff in th'process t'save thuh tah'git."

Another graphic showed a large pipewrench descending into the top of a Genesis Device, smashing it to bits.

"Good to know if we have to try to disrupt the effect, Chief," Commander Paris agreed, then wagged her finger a bit. "Although how to accomplish that is my first question. Ideally we have to convince Gaia to stop, because we can't force her to- do we agree on that? Assuming so, how do we even communicate with her?"

It was at this point that Mnhei'sahe Dox, who had been quietly observing, said something. "We... we already have, haven't we? I mean... At least with a piece of her, we communicated."

Turning slightly to the Goddess in the room, Dox continued. "Pardon me, lady Hera. but... you described her mind like... a hive. The shard that was here... that merged with me... that's a part of her still, right?"

Hera nodded in affirmation. "Yes, that shard will be one voice of hundreds, if not thousands in the current iteration of Gaia."

The Missourian marvel pressed his point. "My thoughts on the mattuh ah that, like a cuhmputuh proh-gram, corrupt data might be introduced to make the process self abort."

"Interesting," Captain Telvan replied. "That would leave you with a barren rock, unless you get the right virus."

"Ahh, y'see, that's wheyah the excitin' paht comes in," Chief Clemens elaborated expansively. "The controls for the protomatter engine are being psionically programmed by the controllin' entity, aye?"

The spotted captain nodded, rubbing her chin. "This is true. Be a hell of a lot of programming, would it not?"

''Not necessarily, Captain,'' Sonak interjected. ''Like all re-programmings, the closer you are to the source of the whole programming sequence, the simpler it is and the more repercussions it has. And regarding material creation, you can not get any simpler than protomatter.''

"...it's kinda like time trav'l. Futhuh back y'go, th'bigguh levuh ya got," piped in the Loquacious Lethario.

A point occurred to her, and Lieutenant Dox spoke up. "Even Hera's plan would still end up with a lot of dead people. Rebooted eventually as different people, but still not an ideal outcome."

"Ah'm thinkin' if'n you could introduce a stop command inta the cleaning code, why you could minimize the damage, maybeh even stop it befoah it touches th'tahgit." the mustachioed mechanoid mentioned.

Shaking her head, Captain Telvan countered. "As the process is, as you mentioned, psionically controlled, how would one interfere with that process?"

"With Dox," Sam said flatly.

"Come again?" Lieutenant Dox blurted.

"Indeed. Come again?" The pirate in the command chair queried, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Owah verah own great big doggone anxiety fueled gun Miss Dox," the Chief Spook said, as understanding dawned on the Captain's face.

"With Dox's newfound psionic linkin' ability... use that feah," Clemens offered. "Feah is a primal stop command, evolutionally-root'd in most species, at th'lowest lev'ls."

"Since she has a link to that shard of Gaia we found in the holodeck... interesting," Enalia Telven considered the possibilities. "Dox has a backdoor to input commands into Gaia already. Perhaps with some help from Mona and Sonak..."

"Wait, hold on a second. Let me see if I've got this straight," Paris interrupted, a bit of indignance in her tone. "You want to use the fact that Dox’s mind invites psionics in to try to override a titan‘s genesis effect?"

"It's an idea," Captain Telvan admitted.

"It's a bad idea," Asa said flatly. "You want to use a weakness that could endanger the life of a member of this crew to throw them at a goddess to the gods. I'm sorry, how is that anything other than murdering Lieutenant Dox?"

"Asa... Doctor..." Dox interjected nervously, accidentally skipping protocol. "There's a more than good chance that with that gate in my head open like it is... she's coming into my mind whether we like it or not. And honestly, I don't. So... as much as I wish there was some other option, planning for what might be inevitable seems like the best idea." The fear on Dox's face was palpable talking now, not to her Doctor, but to one of her best friends.

The intelligence chief broke the word into it's components for oratory effect. "Sabo. Tage."

Does Sonak have the knowledge to rewrite those commands and can send them to the shard through my link to it? Dox wondered to herself as this surreal discussion continued around her. Am I really thinking of doing this? Letting a Titan into my head? Asa's right... This is crazy...

"So you're saying if we have a potential backdoor, we don’t use it to try reason, we just jump to sabotage?" Paris clarified, the moral compass piping up.

"You have to admit, sabotage isn't a bad idea," the starship commander shrugged.

"At an early stage," Clemens chimed in.

"We start with reason, plan to sabotage if reason fails?" Dox asked.

"The Starfleet way," the Captain interjected with a nod to her first officer, "is to try reason first. The Starfleet Intel way is to always have a backup plan that limits the threat to ship, crew, and civilians."

"Ah have heard tell of Romulan artifacts that boost psionics, you know..." Clemens offered, looking to Dedjoy for confirmation. "And at least one crown and marble in our vault that can only be used by someone with a godlike link, without burnin' up th'usah."

Turning towards Clemens, Dox had a somewhat incredulous look on her face. It was an experimental sensory helmet that opened her mind up in the first place and she had no intention of hooking her brain up to anything even remotely like what he was suggesting.

Looking around, the fulsome first officer decided to speak of herself in the third person to emphasize her point. "Wow, the more of this plan that comes out, the less Rita likes it..."

"I'm hoping it evolves into something more reasonable," the Captain admitted.

"O-kay," Rita spread her hands as she spoke. "The big flaw in this plan, that seems to make it not worth the risk, is that Dox has zero psionic defenses. So that 'door' in her head is a whole lot more open one way than the other. Inviting contact with a titan and pissing it off when it has a foothold on your ship sounds like a really awful tactic." Paris shrugged broadly.

"Seeing how the Genesis effect is psionically controlled," Paris wound up for this one, because the obvious was easy, she wanted to really point out a tangible possibility. "Gaia might just decide to send a Genesis wave through Dox to terraform the ship, for instance. That's assuming it doesn't fry her brain and the brain of everyone in contact with her, or even nearby, for that matter. Remember how the 'possessed' Jurot used to brag about how she could toy with your mind? This would be a massive source of that power. Inviting her in for shenanigans might be a very terrible idea, I am thinking."

''It would be unwise to reject viable alternatives,'' Sonak pointed out. ''As one legendary captain stated, risk is our business. And if we are to involve psionics, I of course offer myself to stand with Lieutenant Dox in this option. My capabilities may be limited in this reality, but not my training and experience. Lieutenant Dox' mental training may be still in it's early stages, but a kolinarh master stands a much better chance to help her escape abuse or harm... through a mind meld.''

"Perhaps Hera could help in that regard" Keep anything like that from coming through me other than just direct communication?" Dox spoke up. trying to find some way to make this plan work. "But a link can be used both ways," Dox hypothesized. "I... I don't know what I'm doing yet... I wouldn't have the ability to push anything through to Gaia, but through my link, to that shard fragment of her that I carried, could we?"

"Perhaps... perhaps the plan should be in using the link I have with her to try and bolster our shard's influence on the whole. The one part of Gaia that saw the best we could be," Dox explained as she walked through the idea herself.

The Captain nodded in agreement relieved a different plan had been hatched. "That might be a more feasible angle. Since so many other shards supposedly saw the worst of us... like the one in Jurot. But the one that linked with Dox saw so much better in mortals."

"That's the hope." Dox agreed, still extremely anxious, but more focused. "If that's one tiny voice in a din, it'll get drowned out. If Gaia links into me, we can try and use that to reawaken the piece WE met and make it's voice louder with our own. Giving that voice a megaphone, so it can hear the greatest Rita Paris speech ever."

That got laughs around the table as the tension was broken.

"I don't think we're going to win this with science or weapons. We're going to do this with compassion," Lieutenant Dox proclaimed, nodding to the throwback from the 23rd century who often served as a reminder of those values in these modern times.

"I propose a committee Paris speech," the Paris in question opined. "Lots of voices joined together, Starfleet style, pleading for a better way. If we're arguing the case for humanoid life, it shouldn't just be the human. We're all in this, I say we add in as many voices as we can. I like this plan MUCH better."

''It does have a reasonable chance of succeeding,'' estimated Sonak, nodding. ''And considering our options, it is a logical approach to the problem.''

"I still have extreme reservations, " Dael intoned, "The risk to Lt. Dox is high, and she will need a great deal of medical supervision to make sure she comes out of this the same person that she goes in. If this is the command though, I will do all I can to aid, of course."

"Captain, do we have approval to proceed with at least the base plan?" the hopeful heroine of the golden age asked. "We'll form the away team for this one with Dox, Sonak, Ensign Gonadie, myself and Doctor Dael?"

The spotted woman leaned back in her chair and collected her thoughts before making what she hoped would be a motivational speech. When she was done, she stood and looked over those assembled. "Everyone involved with anything psionic or psychic in this mission will be voluntary only, including Lieutenant Dox. If that's the case, we will find another way. We are Starfleet. We will always find a way. If everyone is ok with going forward with this plan, no one stands alone."

"But just remember, we're here to protect those of the Federation, and the lives of thousands, if not trillions, are currently at stake. If I could take any one of your places in this plan, I would do so without hesitation if it meant the continued livelihoods and freedoms of those we're here to protect."

"Unless anyone else has anything else to add... Let's get this plan in motion. Dismissed."

For the first time in their Starfleet career, Doctor Asa Dael was positively furious at another crew member. To make matters worse, it was their best friend, Lieutenant Mnhei’sahe Dox. During a staff meeting to plan for an encounter with an angry goddess, Dox had agreed to serve as a psionic conduit to Gaia, a creature that could kill her with a thought through a mental connection. Mnhei’sahe had her reasons, not the least of which being the plan had the highest probability of allowing the Hera to resolve the situation diplomatically, but Asa was not having it.

Following Mnhei’sahe to her quarters, Dael barged in without invitation, saying in angry tones, “What the hell was that? Do you want to die? I swear, Mnhei’sahe, I am this close to considering you suicidal and submitting you for a full psych review,” Asa was holding their thumb and first fingers infinitesimally apart, showing the limits to which their patience was being pushed.

Pacing angrily through the room, Dael glared at their friend, waiting on her response.

Across the room, standing near the windows, Dox's jaw was on the proverbial floor. She was still reeling from the conference herself and didn't expect what was now happening in the slightest. Asa was not happy about the plan during the meeting, but Dox didn't expect to see this level of anger and it hit her like a gut punch. "Asa... I... I don't..."

The anxious young Romulan stuttered trying to process what was happening. In shock, she shot back. "No! No, I don't want to die!! And I sure as hell don't want to be Clemens' god-damned 'gun'! I... I don't want ANY of this! But what am I supposed to do?!"


Throwing their hands up in the air, Asa said loudly, “You bloody well say no! You tell him to think of a better plan! You don’t agree to let a bloody Titan use you as a link! You think about the people who care about you, who will be destroyed if anything happens to you AND YOU DAMN WELL SAY NO!”

Asa’s hands were trembling now. They had never been this angry at someone they loved before outside of family. Part of Asa knew they were being unfair, but the thought of losing Mnhei’sahe was so distressing, and to watch her agree to the fool plan in the meeting had been too much.

“Did you even stop to think about what would happen to me if this psionic link that you are capable of kills you? I mean, it’s my fault you have the thing, I should never have signed off on you using that helmet, and I’ve watched you suffer for it. And now this? You want to invite in an angry, world destroying monster for a chat. Gods, Min! What about Mona? What do you think this will do to her? Do you even plan on telling her? Help me out here, what part of this is a good plan?”

"THE PART WHERE I DON'T HAVE A CHOICE!!" Dox screamed back, trembling where she stood, her eyes shining with tears she was holding in place with every ounce of strength. "A Seven Mile high sign, Asa. That's what Nanna called it. Hera said the same basic thing. I won't be able to keep her out once we get there."

Looking down at herself as she spoke, Dox was literally shaking. "I can't stop her, Asa. When I was training with Sonak, he had to PHYSICALLY break contact at first because her started getting pulled in!" The portly red-head was on the verge of hysterics. "Once we get close, I've already LOST. I'm... I'm hers."

"The ONLY thing I can do is try and control HOW it happens! Thinking about you, and Rita and Mona are the ONLY things keeping me from hopping on that damn pirate ship and warping in the other direction out of fear! Holding on to the idea that you all might be the ONLY things that can get me.through this!"

"I have no IDEA how I'm going to tell Mona this. You think feel guilty for okaying the helmet? She built it! But I'm the idiot that insisted on wearing it so I could try and be super pilot! This is MY fault, ASA! Not yours and not Mona's! Because I wanted to be more important! Well, I got what I wanted, didn't!?"

Refusing to accept the pardon from responsibility, Asa sat down heavily on a nearby chair and buried their head in their hands, whispering softly, “Gods, what have I done?”

After a few shuddering breaths, they looked up at Mnhei’sahe, eyes glistening with unshed tears and said in a small, cracking voice, “None of this was supposed to happen. I failed you, Min. I’m so sorry. Gods, let me get you out of here. Nanna will let you stay with her until we can find a way to fix this. I’m sure she won’t mind if Mona comes too. Please, please let me fix this. You don’t have to do this…we can find another way. I can’t lose you, I refuse to.”

Sitting down on the floor in front of Asa, tears were now streaming down Dox's cheeks as she put her hands on her best friends knees. "I... I wanna run so bad, Asa. I really do. I'm terrified. But... but I'm more scared of what happens if I run. What... what happens to you all here? Gaia is a god to the gods. There's no other way to stop her. She'll destroy the ship. You, Rita, Enalia. Enalia's home. Billions."

"But when that piece of her was in me... Asa... I only felt compassion. Gratitude. If that's in there... if I... If WE can reach that, don't we have to try? How... how can I live with myself if I don't try?"


Clasping the offered hands tightly, Asa cried, “Don’t you see? You get to live with yourself, and everyone else gets to live with you too! I…I just don’t understand. If you felt compassion and gratitude, then why is she still going to kill us all? And if she is going to kill us all, how does knowing her toenail regrets it help us? This is all too much, it’s too big. No one person can face this, even with help from the rest of us! You said it yourself….a god to the gods, and we have the arrogance to think we can beam happy thoughts at her and she will just stop? There just…has to be another answer.”

After an awkward moment of crying, Asa concluded piteously, “I miss still being an atheist.”

"And I miss not believing in anything. But I do, and I can't not anymore. I believe in us, Asa. I HAVE to, because I don't want to be that person who didn't believe in anyone ever again."

Then Dox's tone got more somber. "We both know running away isn't it a solution. We're both of us here, not because we ran from our homes. We're here because we ran towards something better. And I believe we can still do that. Rita yelled at ODIN and got him to listen. Me and you, we made DEATH almost ugly cry by making her happy. The Captain collapsed an entire reality onto itself to save Rita and Sonak. And, I KNOW we can do this. Not me, but all of us together. Because we have to. Because trying is who we are. Because knowing something is impossible then doing it anyway is what we do." Dox put her hand on her friends cheek and raised it up to meet her eyes.

"Asa, I need your help. Because If I have you and Rita and Sonak and Enalia and Mona, then I'll believe I can survive this."

Through a barked laugh with no sense of mirth, Asa said, “It’s not like I’m going to leave you alone to it, am I? I would say I’m afraid I’m going to see you back on my operating table dying, but that’s not even it. I’m terrified I’m not even going to get that much. That Gaia will just end you. That there won’t be anything left to save. Or that the person who comes back isn’t the same one that goes out there. I swear, if my people had been less useless none of this would have needed to happen. But now there’s just Nanna, Guinan, one or two others, and me with any kind of ability to do anything, and I’m too clueless to be any help. This is what my people are supposed to be good at, but because it’s going to take me a thousand years to read a damn book, I’m useless. All I can do is just watch you take on all the risk and hope I can put you back together at the end.

Slumping further down, Asa continued, “I hope you are right, Min. I really do, because it’s going to destroy all of us if anything happens to you.”

With her hands still clasped tight by the lanky doctor, Dox did everything she could to show as much strength as she could muster, although Asa's worlds were a frightening reminder that her friend would live for another nineteen thousand years, leaving any memory of a Romulan girl named Mnhei'sahe behind like a whisper on the wind before too long. But she pushed those thoughts out of her mind as she shut her eyes tight.

For a long moment, there was silence in the room before Dox looked up again and spoke. With a smile, she tilted her head. "I'll be okay, Asa. We all will. As long as we have each other and go into this knowing that... It will happen. We'll show her who we are."

After going to the replicator to get a handful of tissues, Asa returned to where the two friends were sitting, handing some over to Mnhei’sahe.

”I’m sorry I yelled,” they said meekly.

Wiping her face with the tissues, Dox leaned forward, putting her hand back on Asa's. "I'm sorry I'm giving you a reason to. I know you're scared. I'm scared too. But you're far from useless and I'm not just talking about being the best doctor in the fleet. You helped Clemens come back when he was about to die. You connected with the Titan on Starbase 336. And remember. We're already connected. Nanna gave us that. Us and Rita, remember? So we have that."

Leaning over to rest their head on Mnhei’sahe’s shoulder, Asa snuffled, “I know. It’s just….you’re all so breakable. I’d feel better about things if everyone had Malana’s resilience. Although then I guess I’d be a mason and not a doctor, so, who knows. I wonder if the Captain will let me put the entire crew in Maco armor every time they leave their quarters. Probably not, huh?”

It was a small attempt at humor, but the best Asa had in that moment. Plus the mental image of watching a ships worth of crew clomping around in armor was oddly humorous to the doctor. It would certainly cut down on accidental burns and scraped though….

"Probably not, no." Dox chuckled lightly. "But what can we do? I made a recommendation to Commander Paris that you could figure out a way to monitor my brain waves at all times so that if Gaia decides to slip in, she wouldn't be able to use me against the ship. Something that would notify the computer if my brain wave patterns changed to shut out my access. Could we do that? Preferably without having to wear something silly on my head all the time?"

“Well, part of the fun is making you wear something silly on your head, but yeah, I can come up with something. How do you feel about tricorder necklace? Or something that we pin to your uniform? We just need a gee-gaw to put somewhere on your person, preferably head adjacent, that will scan within a specified range and report back into computer-monitored access. If we set up your access to be revoked automatically without a passing scan every 30 seconds, does that sound safe? Honestly, with Gaia I would rather err on the side of caution and shut out without passing a scan instead of being passive and waiting for you to fail one, you know?”

"You're the Doctor. Whatever you think is best, here. I just want to make sure an angry goddess doesn't have me fly us into a star. Dox replied, only half joking. "Any other ideas? Nural inhibitors? Something to keep her from making me breakout on interpretive ceremonial Ferengi dances?"

Snorting a quick laugh, Asa replied, “Sedative. Honestly, neural inhibitors are great, but they aren’t 100% in situations like this. If she starts taking the wheel, honestly Min, I’m putting you to sleep, dragging you to Sickbay, then putting on inhibitors and only waking you up once we are far enough away from Gaia. Possibly on the other side of the quadrant if we can manage it. Although I imagine Mona wouldn't turn away those dances...."

"No. No, she wouldn't." Dox laughed. "But you've gotta keep me conscious, Asa. We need to be able to talk to her. Show her there's a better way. So, we will need options."

“If she is overriding your consciousness, would that not indicate that the time for talking is done? And if we use a dampner on you, she won’t be able to communicate anyway, plus it will cause serious feelings of loneliness, despair, hopelessness….the Fleet still doesn’t have those things perfected for secondary telepaths, you know? Min, you fight your own head so hard anyway….are you willing to risk those feelings for months after?”

"Asa..." Dox's tone turned darker. "You know me as well as almost anyone. You know there's not much that scares me as much as... something in my head. About not having control of myself. I'm... I'm absolutely terrified, here. I am." The anxious young Romulan woman wiped away an errant tear.

"But using me might be her only way to communicate directly, we don't know. There's weird precedent for that kind of a thing happening. So we can't know her intention until it happens. For all we know, she thinks she's doing something great." Dox squeezed Asa's hands tighter.

"But... Seven Mile high sign." Dox gestured with her eyes up to her own brain. "She's coming. I can't stop it. And I can't run away, either. So I have to try and be as ready as possible. And I need help to do that. And if I survive this, I'll need help when it's over."

With a deep sigh, Asa replied, “I know, I know. I’ll do what I can, you know that…the portable dampeners that were fashioned are the latest tech, and they are about 25 years old, but I’ll see what I can do. Be forewarned, they hurt. A lot. Captain Kirk screaming in pain a lot.”

Tilting her head down to meet Asa's eyes, Dox smiled. "Asa... there's something else I need. I know you'll be there for me when I get lost. But... I need to know how to find you. And I think I know a way to do that."

Cocking one eyebrow and with a ghost of a smile passing across their lips, Asa replied, “How? By breaking your nose again? Because we gotta find a better way to page me than that, Min.”

"Hey, it works, doesn't it?" The nervous Romulan chuckled. "But, no. Seriously. There's... when I started meditation with Sonak, I started with the brazier... focusing on the flame on it to the exclusion of everything else. Then, after a while, when I needed to center myself on missions, I would try and picture that flame in my mind. To help me not panic."

She schooched up slightly more upright as she spoke. "But it wasn't a flame anymore. It was... It was just a light. A pulsing red light in my minds eye. I didn't know what.it meant until Mona told me. That light... It's me. It's what I am. Then... I was able to find hers and... and it was this beautiful blue. And during my exercises with Sonak, his light was this... copper color."

"It's ... It's unmistakable, Asa. I find those lights, and I find home. And the more beacons, I think, the better." Dox smiled awkwardly.

“Ok, well, that makes sense, and if a Kolinhar master didn’t poo-poo that, I’m sure not going to. So, what do you need from me? Do I just tell you that I a multi-colored vibrant rainbow of insanity and impossibility? Or perhaps something more helpful?” Asa said, a slight hint of mania starting to creep in.

At which Dox laughed just a little. "Honestly, I don't quite know. I know how I found Mona and Sonak's just pushed in because he was trying to mind meld."

Holding up her hands, still holding Asa's in them, Dox wiggled them. "I was hoping something would come to me for a few minutes now, bit nothing. I'm still not good at this yet. I think I'll need some help from Mona, here."

Scrunching their nose in thought, Asa said, “Well, um, I might have something here….When Clemens decided to flirt with Death, I sent some of my energy into him to use as a tether to find his way back to us. I didn’t see colors or anything, but I could try to send some into you? And maybe you will? Worst case scenario we both wind up with headaches.”

"Headaches, you can fix. Okay... let me concentrate for a second." Dox held onto Asa's hands and closed her eyes again. She slowed her breathing and calmed her mind. As she did, she began to see the crimson light in her mind's eye. It grew brighter, pulsing with each breath. As it grew brighter, she could see the swirls of Mona's blue light dancing inside of her own, like filiments of her loves presence that were now always there. As Dox felt that mental image become clear, she gently nodded to Asa.

After taking a cleansing breath, Asa allowed their eyes to drift closed. The pictured a wellspring of energy in their core, remembering the path they followed to find it with Sam during his stint on death’s door. Feeling the anchor form deep inside their mind, Asa began spooling the “rope” that would connect them to Mnhei’sahe over to her. They fed the rope of personal energy gently into Mnhei’sahe’s waiting core and sent over a mental image of a tentative wave, followed by a question mark.

In her minds eye, the inexperienced young Romulan couldn't perceive the specifics of Asa's message, but she gasped as she felt it. The rope of mental energy reached into the darkness of Dox's mind and spread out like a literal wave of a brilliant, pearlescent lavender light. Asa's energy was incredibly strong on a level Dox hadn't yet experienced.

She sat up quickly and opened her eyes with a smile. "Wow. That... That was you."

Opening one eye, Asa said, “Um, yes? I think? It’s what I did for Sam, so I think that’s me. So, am I fantastic rainbow, or some horrible drab beige? And oh, let me know if you need more or if you want me to withdraw.”

"No, no more." Dox replied as.she let go of Asa's hands. "That was enough. I... wow. It was like a... lavender. But shimmering, like a pearl. But it filled my minds eye. Not drab for sure. But there was so much. Asa... It just kept going."

“Um, sorry?” Asa squeaked in reply, “I…I didn’t mean to flood you. I..I thought that was just a little bit. I’m probably too new to this to guess, huh? Lavender is good though…smells good, looks good, tastes good. Um, do I need to do anything different you can perceive?”

"Oh, no. I'm fine. It was just... kind of awesome. It was just there. It didn't overwhelm me or try and penetrate or force itself in. It was just... like a hug, really." Dox giggled a little. "And... I'm pretty sure you don't have to do anything different. You just have a lot of energy. But I'll be able to find you for sure."

"I guess it makes sense with..." Dox trailed off for a moment as her tone got a little melancholy. "Well, how long you'll live... that you have a lot of you."

“I’m still not entirely sure what to do with that, “ Asa confessed, “I figured I would have 5 millennia or so, like the other El-Aurians. I….I don’t even know what to do with 19,000 years. But nothing is guaranteed, right? Besides, Death didn’t say who’s years. Could be 19,000 years on some planet that makes a rotation of its sun in 2 standard hours or something. Ok, don’t look at me like that, I know the math doesn’t add it, but my point stands. The future changes every day, all we can do is the best with what we have right now, and if my abundance of life can save my best friend, then that’s a good thing.”

"I... I try not to think about that. It's killing me know that my lifespan is almost three times Mona's. Then I think that I'll just... be like a single drop of water in the ocean of your life. Even at five millennia." Dox hung her head a little. "Sorry. Didn't mean to get all bleak. We've got now, right."

The rest of what Mnhei'sahe left unsaid hung in the air a moment befire Asa spoke, "Do you still remember your first best friend? Or the first time you felt loved and accepted for being who you are? Will you ever forget the first time you got to do something you loved? Or the people that made you feel like you could do it? I think its something lime that for us. We never forget the big stuff, or the people we truly love. I dont think even given 100,000 years that any of you will be less important to me, and that just makes now more important, right?"

"I haven't had the chance to forget my first, best friend. You're right here." Dox replied with an awkward smile.

Laying their head on Mnhei’sahe’s shoulder, Asa said softly, “And I always will be, for as long as the fates allow.”

-=TRIGGER WARNING=-

Mona was having her usual nightmare based on her memories back on the colony she grew up on, but with one key difference. Her love and mate, Mnhei'sahe Dox, was in the cage with her. Everything else played out the same as before.

First, her parents were taken by the eight foot tall Gorn minding the fire pits. The were dragged out, flailing and screeching in the night as they were prepared for the spit. Still alive, their brilliant plumage was ripped from their flesh as they wailed in agony.

In the cage, Mona watched it all clinging to Mnhei'sahe as her brother and sister shuttered in terror at her feet. And she watched as they were cooked on a spit and roasted alive. Their scream pierced the night as their bodies were turned over the flames until finally going limp. Mona could smell their flesh roasting, burning into her nostrils and stabbing her eyes. Then the Orion slavers came and began to feed as Mona, Dox and Mona's brother and sister watched as the slavers peeled the flesh from the bones of Mona's parents. Mona's screams reverberating off of the trees and steel of the cages, ringing in her ears.

Then the Gorn came for her brother and sister. They too were slow roasted and eaten in her view as she clung to her mate, their higher pitched screams piercing her skull even worse.

Then the behemoth Gorn came one more time.

As he flung the cage door open, The two women in the cage shuttered in the corner. But as tight as Mona clutched, the Gorn was too strong. He reached in grabbing her mate, Mnhei'sahe Dox, by her thick red hair and began dragging her out.

Screaming as the Gorn pulled, Mona tried pulling Dox back into her arms until the mammoth creature pried the Miradonian's fingers off of her Romulan love"s bruised skin and tossed the two apart as he slammed the cage door shut.

Dragging Dox by her hair across the filthy ground, he lifted her off the ground as she screamed and kicked. "MONA!! MONA!!! DON'T LET ME DIE!!!

With a horrible ripping sound, the nearly 300 pounds of Dox tore free of her hair and fell back to the dirt, letting out a hideous scream as green blood flowed down her face from her torn scalp. On the ground, she began trying to claw toward Mona, blinded by the blood in her eyes. "H... help... Help me, Jhu Dhael!"

It was the Rihan phrase for Angel Bird, and Dox reached. "Don't... don't let them take me!!"

As Dox's fingers were just inches from Mona's, the Gorn's massive foot came down on the back of Dox's next with a sickening snap. Her reaching arm flumped to the ground dead. Pulling her body off the ground as Mona watched, he tore the scraps of her crimson Starfleet uniform off as her head fell limp to her side.

Carrying Dox's body over to the fire, the Gorn pulled the red hot metal spit off the turn and shook off the charred bones of Mona's sister off. They fell to the ground with a wet thump as it pulled Dox up by the head, tilting it back as it raised the spit to impale Mona's love.

Mona went absolutely crazy at that point, throwing herself against the bars of the cage repeatedly in rage and sadness. She'd never before felt anger before but she knew what it was now, thanks to this nightmare. What finally woke her up though, was the screams. She had started screaming at the top of her lungs as she threw herself against the cage bars to get at the Gorn that killed her friends and family.

Now awake, she found she was clinging to her Minay like her life depended upon it, tears pouring from her eyes, still screaming. Her screams faded out, but the tears and sobs still came, unabated.

Snapping awake at the exact same instant, Dox's eyes went wide as she struggled to acclimate herself to reality. They were in their quarters together both alive and safe. "Mona! Mona! It's... It's okay. I'm here. I'm okay. You're okay. Here, here!"

The Miradonian's nails were digging tight into Dox's skin as the rotund Romulan struggled to turn around in bed to face her, as tears streaked down her own face. Once turned around, she took Mona in her own arms tightly. "I've got you. I've got you. I saw... I saw it, Mona."

Mona sobbed some more before she could get out words, still clinging to her Minay. "I'm so sorry... So sorry... I love you... Don't wanna lose you..."

"Shhhh..." Dox ran her hands down the feathers on the back of Mona's head softly, trying to calm her down. "It's okay. I'm here. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here." Dox was doing her best to calm Mona down in spite of the fact that she had seen the nightmare herself through the newfound telepathic bond they were developing.

Mona slowly relaxed and eased up a bit, still holding her Minay as tightly as she could manage, her whole body shaking from the strain of what she had just been through. "You saw it too, didn't you? The whole thing?"

"I did. I was there. I saw it all through your eyes. Oh, I'm so sorry." Dox was desperately trying not to cry as she held Mona tight. "But I'm here, now. I'm okay... you're okay. We're here."

Mona nodded into Dox's bosom wetly. "We're both here. It's ok. Everything is going to be ok. No one is going to eat you."

"No. It's okay." Dox relaxed her grip on Mona a little. This was the first nightmare either woman had experienced since they began developing their telepathic bond and it hit both of them hard. But Dox knew why.

The Hera was currently warping at high speed to intercept the Titan Gaia. The cosmic entity that Dox once merged with a shard of months ago. The cosmic entity that the crew of the Hera was going to attempt to communicate with using Dox's psychically open mind. "I'm so sorry, Mona. I... I don't want what's going to happen to happen either. I'm scared too. I don't want to lose you. I don't want her to take me away from you."

"Then let's run away. Far away, and never come back. We can be pirates and fly a different flag." Mona would do anything right now if it meant protecting her mate.

It was only a few hours earlier that Dox had to have a similar discussion with Doctor Dael on the exact same subject. She sighed as she put her hand on Mona's cheek. "Mona, I... I can't run. I run and Gaia destroys the ship. Rita, Enalia, Asa, everyone. Then the entire Trill system. And then what?"

Looking deep into Mona's eyes, Dox was trying to keep the tears in check but was failing. "Jhu Dhael... I want to run. I do... But I can't. We can't. This... this will catch up to us sooner or later. And how do we live with ourselves knowing we let them all down... or worse?"

"Yeah, I know," Mona nodded sorrowfully, knowing they could never run. "Sorry for my weakness. That was selfish of me. I just... I've lost so much and I don't want to lose you too. I just found you."

"You're allowed to feel whatever you need to with me. You know that." Dox said softly. "But you're not going to lose me. As long as I have you here I'll always find my way back. You're my light. You're going to be with me no matter what Gaia does. That's... that's what's keeping my head screwed on straight through all of this. Knowing I've got you to come back to."

"Then I'll give you as much of me as it takes to make sure you're ok," Mona replied, finally calming down enough to smile weakly.

"Then that's how I know I'll make it through this. I can't NOT come back if you're here for me." Smiling, Dox wiped a tear from Mona's cheek and kissed her softly.