Mona had just finished planning and replicating a pair of form-fitting suits specially built for something special that she'd been planning for a few days now and she was about to spring it on her bond-mate. She was now packing them into a pair of duffels, as well as the helmets, oxygen supplies, and water and emergency rations, just in case. The suits had beacons already and the jump coordinator would go over everything with them as they neared the jump window, so as far as she was concerned, they were ready.

She just needed her Minay to come home now.

"Mona to Dox. Minay, will you be home soon? We don't want to be late for the first part of our vacation."

Across the mighty starship, Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox was walking through the corridors of the ship, PaDD in hand and still working away to tweak the flight crews duty roster as her shift had ended twenty minutes ago. Startled to attention by her comm badge, the distracted Romulan Flight Chief stopped to reply outside of a turbolift. Hnaev! She cursed internally in her native Rihan.

Tapping her badge, she replied as she entered the lift. "Deck Eight. I'm on my way, Mona."

The 'everything' in question was both the impromptu downtime while the Hera was docked at the Artan Family Fortress and the couples impending bonding ceremony at the end of the week, which she was extremely nervous about. GOOD nervous, but nervous nonetheless. And when Mnhei'sahe Dox was nervous, she worked.

After a short moment, Dox made her way off of the lift and to their shared quarters as she finalized the report on her PaDD and entered the room talking. "Sorry. I just needed to make sure the rotation was set for the next few days. We're going to be short-handed with everything going on and... uh... what's in the bags?"

"It's what we need to get to our vacation spot," Mona replied mysteriously with a wink as she handed off the green bag to her lover with a wink and a kiss as she shouldered the purple bag. "Our jump coordinator is meeting us on the main flight deck in ten minutes so we need to get moving. I've already had clothing and transport back arranged so don't worry about that."

As she headed out of their quarters, Mona kept talking. "The hard part will be landing on the right floating island in the gas seas after a thirty-kilometer skydive."

Pausing for a moment to process what her Miradonian bond-mate had just said, Dox hiked the green bag on her shoulder and ran a short burst to catch up as the door to their quarters hissed closed behind them. "Wait, what? Skydiving? We're going skydiving? In a space station?"

"Nope, Kabul five. They have a few floating islands and I've reserved one with a bungalow for two days and one night and we're being dropped off via shuttle thirty kilometers above it." Mona grinned mischievously. "It's about four in the morning there now and a skyhopper will pick us up at sunset tomorrow. Right now though, we're about to skydive through the stratosphere of a planet and glide on the best updrafts this side of the Magellanic rifts."

The Romulan pilot's eyes went a little wide as they arrived at the turbolift and entered. "Main Flight Deck." She said to the computer as the lift began to move. As a cadet, Dox had passed all of her jump tests with high marks, but she greatly preferred flying IN a ship whenever possible.

"Thirty kilometers? Uh..." But looking over at Mona's deep Amber eyes and watching her brilliantly colored plumage flair out ever so subtly with excitement, Dox couldn't help but smile. "Okay. We... can do this."

As the lift doors opened, Dox was visibly more than a little nervous but she wasn't going to allow that to ruin Mona's plans.

As they stepped out onto the flight deck, there was an older inner system shuttle already waiting for them with a Trill man in a bomber jacket waiting for them. "Mona and..." He had to glance down at his datapad to read the name again and still, he didn't want to butcher it so he tried sounding it out. "Mn... Mn-hay..."

Rolling her eyes ever so slightly as her face went flat, this was not the ideal first step in this process for the young Romulan red-head. "Mnhei'sahe." Dox said plainly before slowing it down to repeat it phonetically. "Min. Yay. Say."

"Min-yay-say it is then." The man then jotted down a few notes before putting his datapad away and addressing the pair of them. "My apologies, ladies. I am Tanic Dan and I'll be your Jump Coordinator today. Mona as you're a repeat customer and you've filed your partner's certifications, I'll make this as brief as I can. Once we board you'll get changed and we'll head to the jump window. Before the jump I'll inspect your suits and make sure they've been made and kitted out to the exacting specifications needed to survive a thirty-kilometer stratosphere jump. Once in the jump window, I'll reverse the gravity so you'll be pulled to the ceiling and remove the deck plating. Then when you're ready, I'll let you freefall out and towards the gas seas. There are nav buoys in the sky and on the island. If anything goes wrong, we will have transporter locks on both of you, but that is no guarantee that we'll be able to get you out safely. If you miss the island, the updrafts can carry you up and back around to it but it can be tricky and only a highly skilled glider suit pilot might find their way back. Do you understand?"

Her usually freckled, olive skin went slightly pale as Dox listened to Tanic Dan speak and resisted the urge to say something sarcastic. "Uh... yes. I understand." As she spoke, she managed the slightest of weak smiles towards Mona. "Repeat Customer? How many times have you done this here?"

"Understood," Mona replied with a grin. "This will be the third time."

"Aye, and she's given us some glowing reviews and tossed enough business our way that we've been able to expand to the dune seas of Kabul two as well." Dan motioned for them to climb aboard as he spoke. "Boss couldn't help but give her a discount. As for amenities on the island, same arrangement as before. Fresh food and drink, no modern amenities, blue lagoon package. Perfect for those that want to get away from it all."

After Mona climbed in, she unzipped her duffel and started pulling out her metallic purple bodysuit so she could start getting ready. "You're going to love the sunrise. At that altitude, it's breathtaking."

Still nervous, but doing her level best to quash her anxious stomach for Mona's sake, Dox stepped in and set her bag down on the bench seat along the starboard bulkhead of the small shuttle. Watching Mona, Dox began unpacking her suit as well trying to make sure she followed the Miradonian pilot's lead. "Do, uh, Do we just change here? Does this fit over my uniform or..."

Pulling the metallic green bodysuit out of the bag, it was clear that it was going to be quite form fitting. "Uh... I think that's a 'no'. So, I haven't done this since the Academy. I... uh... might need more than a little hand-holding, Mona." The anxious Romulan had an awkward grin as she let Mona know about her slight insecurities.

"You've got about an hour to get ready," called Dan as he headed into the cockpit and closed the privacy door behind him. The shuttle engines then started up and they got underway.

The brightly plumed aviatrix chuckled softly as she pulled her own uniform off. "I'm here for you, Minay. Everything will be ok. I promise I won't let anything happen to you."

The butterflies in Dox's stomach abated slightly at the sight of Mona in all her glory. The stunning display of colors on the feathers that crowned her head continued down in a rainbow of waves that hugged the Miradonian's every curve. Dox took a moment, as she began taking her own uniform off somewhat awkwardly, to get slightly lost in her own thoughts. It was a mystery of space, time, and the universe to the young Romulan that she somehow found love with Mona Gonadie.

"I know you won't. How can I be so nervous here and have no problem riding that hoverbike of mine 500 meters over the tops of buildings?" Dox let out a slight chuckle as she stripped down to her underwear.

"Seriously. You've done some things I wouldn't dream of, like actually fighting people. You know you're known as Lieutenant Murder-punch on the lower decks, right? If they caught wind that something like this scared you..." Mona shook her head as she started pulling her suit on while simultaneously enjoying the toned sight of her lover.

For a moment, as Dox shook out her own metallic green body suit and began stepping into it, her eyebrow cricked up. "Lieutenant Murder..." Then her eyes narrowed as she sneered slightly, muttering out the most likely culprit. "GavARus."

As she pulled the suit up, tugging it awkwardly over her more than ample rear, she continued. "And I'm not scared, I'm just... nervous. There are subtle differences that I can argue the minutiae of indefinitely if need be. I am Romulan, after all."

"Oh, I know that. But they won't." Mona leaned in as she pulled one arm on and planted a kiss on Dox, a bit of a smirk on her face. "You know the holodeck does nothing for me so this is a rare treat so let's relax and enjoy ourselves."

Smiling more relaxed now, Dox slid her arms into the sleeves and turned around for Mona to help her zip up the sparkling material. "That sounds like a deal to me, Jhu Dhael." Dox replied with her Rihan name for Mona which translated to 'Angel Bird.' as the pair continued to get ready for their unconventional vacation.

Mona zipped up her lover's suit and sealed the neckline, making sure it was tight for atmospheric entry. She then turned around so Dox could do the same for her. "I know you're going to love this. The jump itself is relaxing until the last few kilometers. then it's just fun. Then we get a tropical floating island all to ourselves. How romantic is that, right?"

As Mnhei'sahe zipped Mona up, a slightly more difficult task with the Miradonian's chest being significantly broader than her own, she responded with a quirky smile and a chuckle.

"I absolutely can't wait to see it. I know I'm a little nervous, but I am excited. And this is a largely new experience for me. Something that you love that you get to share with me. And that means everything."

As Dox sealed the neck of Mona's suit, she lightly kissed around the back of her lover's neck. "I'm a pilot... but now you get to show me how to really fly."

"The best flying is always on your own with nothing but you and the sky. We'll be using gliding suits, which is as close as we can get." With that, Mona secured Dox's air, water, and emergency rations pack onto her back and made sure the valves were ok before sticking her comm badge into her helmet where she could hit it with her chin.

"Plus, I'm from a race of birds. This sort of thing comes naturally."

Chuckling slightly, Dox began repeating Mona's actions, affixing her mates air, water and ration packs in place. As she did, she gave each a sharp tug to make sure they were perfectly secured. "Yeah. You definitely have an advantage here. But I can't wait to see you fly for real."

Handing Mona her helmet with her Comm Badge fixed in place, she looked slightly contrite. "I'm... sorry for letting my nerves get me a little... snarky."

"But in my defense, I'M from a race of assholes. That sort of thing comes naturally." Dox joked with that quirky smirk she frequently had when joking with her best friends and, of course, Mona.

"That's one of the reasons I love you so much. We're perfectly matched." Mona rested one hand on the back of her mate's neck and pulled their foreheads together, thrumming softly. "And I wouldn't have you any other way, my Minay. My Moon Goddess."

In that moment, Dox felt her anxiety fade as their physical contact, bolstered by Mona's rhythmic thrumming, activated the pairs empathic link. A literal bond innate to Mona's race that Dox's largely dormant psionic capabilities, inherited from the Romulan's shared biological history with the Vulcan race, allowed her to share.

The bond had been steadily growing in renewed strength over the last few months and as the red-headed Romulan closed her eyes and relaxed, she could sense Mona's energy enveloping her own. In her mind's eye, Dox could see her own faint, red glow swirling with Mona's radiant blue to form a vibrant purple that filled her senses with warmth.

The bond that was once so strong as to allow them to share their dreams when touching swelled unexpectedly. What had been weak for months suddenly felt like it was building in strength second by second. The young Romulan was taken aback slightly by the renewed intensity of their bond. In that moment, it felt as if it had been almost completely restored.

Perhaps it was their impending nuptials or the excitement of what they were about to do together, but Dox smiled as a tear rolled down her cheek. "It's... I can feel you again. Like it was before."

I knew we would get back to what we had. We are as one, my Minay. Mona didn't use words. She didn't need to right now. That's how deep their bond was once again.

"Knock knock!" called out Dan as he cracked open the cockpit privacy door. "Are you dressed for success?"

As she spoke, Mnhei'sahe took a deep breath and collected herself, a wide grin on her face from the experience of their renewed bond still strong in her mind.

Not hearing any complaints, he stepped out and grinned in approval, waving a scanner. "Just going to get the checks out of the way so we can address any issues while we have time to correct them. Not that I expect there to be any."

He ran the scanner over both of them, the screen lighting up green with all checks. "Excellent! I just need to make sure you both know how to engage the glider wings and control them and we're all set. Mona, if you would do the honors?"

The brightly plumed Miradonian pointed to a set of controls on the gloves that could be reached with the thumbs on either hand. "These control the glider functions. The big control here activates and deactivates the glider panels on the arms, body, and between the legs. The main thing to remember is to spread out like a bird. If you need to narrow the panels, those controls are on the other hand. Easy enough to remember, but easy to forget in freefall."

As she did when Mona first showed her the unique flight controls that the Miradonian inventor had innovated for the helm of the Hera itself, Dox simply observed, taking it all in quietly. As she watched the demonstration, her own thumbs mimicked the motions. Hovering over the buttons indicated, committing the controls to muscle memory.

With a smile and a wink, Dox nodded. "I think very got it. And I have an exceptional guide."

"Well, you're all set! We'll be at the drop window in forty minutes so hang tight until then. There's some granola bars and water in the locker there if you need it, but I recommend jumping dry." With that, Dan headed back into the cockpit to continue the flight.

-=Forty Minutes Later=-

Over the comms came the voice of Tanic Dan as the shields around the inside of the main bay of the shuttle came online. "We're approaching the jump window! Seal up those helmets and grab the roof handles, ladies! I'm reversing your gravity in three minutes and dropping you in five!"

As Mona quickly sealed up her helmet, she helped make sure Dox got hers sealed up ok and tapped her comm badge with her chin before grabbing the roof bar with both hands. "Now we get to the fun part!"

Stepping over to the side of Mona, Dox grabbed the roof bars. While it had been years since she had last done this in the academy, the muscle memory was intact and, much like while in a fight or piloting at the helm of a ship, the young Romulan's anxiety vanished in the moment that she knew she needed to function.

Still, she turned towards Mona and tapped her comm badge with her chin and a smile. "Lead the way."

Once they were holding on, the gravity shifted and they fell on their backs, laying on the roof of the shuttle's launch bay. The bar then retracted out of their reach and the floor of the shuttle retracted on rollers so that they could see through a forcefield the gas seas and the tiny islands below which were just barely still in the local night cycle - a thirty-kilometer drop just waiting for them.

After what seemed like ages, Tanic Dan came over their comms with one last check. "Check check! Both of you give me a thumbs up when you're ready and I'll drop the shield and set you free!"

There was no hesitation as Mona gave a thumbs up and turned her head over to look at her lover through her helmet's HUD.

Shaking out a last-second bundle of nerves, Dox took a breath and turned to Mona with a smile. Simply seeing the look of raw excitement in her bond-mate's eyes was enough to overwhelm her anxieties. She gave a thumbs up and looked back down towards the swirling seas of gas stretching out before them.

That's when the final forcefield was removed and the two were blown out of the shuttle. They were now in freefall and in complete silence other than the sound of their own breath and the pinging of the suit sensors in their ears. The atmosphere was thin enough that they hit max velocity within seconds.

Mona maneuvered around by shifting her weight so she was across from Mnhei'sahe and looked up at her. "This is amazing, isn't it?!"

It astounded Mnhei'sahe at just how effortless it looked for Mona. Miradonian's were, of course, an avian species and flying was in their DNA and that showed as the Romulan pilot watched Mona slide through the upper atmosphere without a care. Dox, however, was a learned pilot. And while she was extremely skilled at the helm of a starship, just staying stable in her position as she fell took a conscious effort, holding her arms, legs, and head just right to keep herself from rolling out of control.

It was intense but she had to admit that it was extremely exhilarating as she looked down at Mona. A slight grin turned into a broad smile that erupted, not into a spoken reply to her lover's question, but into a joyous and deep laugh that rolled out and crescendoed as she locked eyes with Mona deeply. She got it.

Grinning wider, the brightly plumed Miradonian dove in a spiral for a few seconds before pulling up out of it into a double barrel roll, using her natural buoyancy to lift her back up level with her lover and easily coming up alongside her. Pointing off towards a growing brightness on the horizon, they were just in time to see the sunrise at around the twenty-six-kilometer mark, the light hitting the gasses and crescendoing across the land in colors too vibrant to even describe, the roiling gas seas starting to simmer from the morning light.

The brilliant burst of light crested the curved horizon and, in an instant, filled their field of view. Reflecting and refracting through the gasses, the morning sunbeams cast a pattern of swirling colors across their shimmering metallic suits like a projection. But the only thing more breathtaking then the sunrise over the horizon was seeing that light dapple across Mona's smiling face as she hovered to Dox's side, between the Romulan woman and the sunrise. The sunlight hit the Miradonian's large, amber eyes and they seemed to almost glow with their own luminosity. The fine turquoise and golden feathers on the edges of Mona's face shimmered with a pearlescence as the colored light seemed to kiss her beautiful face and it was all Dox could do to not let a tear escape her eyes as they continued to fall.

...to be continued.

Dappled purple light streamed in softly through the translucent, sheer white bed curtains drifting in the cool, gentle breeze over the head of Lieutenant Mnei'sahe Dox. The moment felt like a dream as she woke slowly from the short nap she had floated into not too long after she and her bond-mate had successfully landed in their wingsuits to the 3.5 acre floating island that Mona had booked for the pair on the gaseous world of Kabul 5.

The journey in, dropping thirty kilometers from the stratosphere of the planet in wingsuits was beyond exhilarating and the experience was only enhanced by Mona's careful planning and timing as they entered the atmosphere during a brilliant sunrise. So it was no surprise that upon their surprisingly gentle touchdown to the tropical island, suspended in the swirling, colored glasses, that the two didn't take long to get out of their suits and into each other's arms. And after an hour and a half spent exploring each other and not so much the rented 1930's Earth-Americana styled bungalow that was their home for the next day, they had drifted to sleep in each other's arms.

It was a moment neither would forget as the empathic bond they shared that had been extremely weakened months ago, had been all but fully restored, making their lovemaking experience a deeply empathic sensation once again. And as they napped lightly, that bond let each rest more comfortably in each other's almost uncharacteristically serene dreams for a time. For the red-headed Romulan woman, it was akin to being reintroduced to air after not realizing you had been suffocating for months.

It was just after midday as the gentle sun woke the red-headed Romulan woman. Feeling the rhythmic thrumming of her Miradonian bond-mate, she sighed deeply, feeling Mona tighten the arm that was wrapped around Dox's chest as they both lay in the luxurious king-sized bed.

"So... that can't have been the worst wingsuit flying you've ever seen, Jhu Dhael?" Dox joked softly, stroking the impossibly soft feathers on the back of her lover's head. The joke at the expense of the few moments of clumsy flailing Dox had done upon extending her suits wings before getting the hang of flying without a starship.

Opening her eyes, Mona smiled up at her lover. "No, Minay. You did very well for your first time. Most would have to spend hundreds of hours in simulations before a jump but I knew you'd be fine." She then pulled her Moon Goddess in for a passionate kiss. "And you were more than fine. You took to it almost like a Miradonian chick."

Pulling deep into the kiss, Mnhei'sahe locked on to that rhythmic thrumming Mona did when the two were together that allowed her to slip into their empathic bond more easily. Doing so, she could feel her bond-mates love like a warmth flowing into her that was almost overwhelming in a good way. "Well, you're in here again..." Dox rubbed her forehead gently against Mona's. "It was less like I had to think about what to do and instead... almost remember because you knew, if that makes any sense."

"It makes perfect sense, Minay. Just wait until you meet my foster parents. We should get back just in time to meet them, in fact..." That was one set of memories Mona tried to keep out of the bond, for a number of reasons. The main one was that one needed to experience them first hand first. The second was that they were a bit on the religious fanatic side of things and it had made them... Odd... And she wanted to protect Dox from that side of Miradonian culture.

For her part, Mnhei'sahe had the slightest feeling through their bond that Mona had strong but conflicted feelings concerning her foster family. But emotional conflict with family was something that the embattled Romulan woman was all too familiar with, considering the still recovering relationship with her own mother. So she put any concerns out of her head. She would meet Mona's family in a couple of days and whatever questions she had would be answered then. In the meantime, the two were together in a literal paradise and had it all to themselves. No responsibilities. No crew asking questions. No Lieutenant or Ensign. And certainly no Baronesses. It was just the two of them. Mnhei'sahe and Mona.

"I'm looking forward to meeting them. I'm dying to see where all of this amazingness came from." She kissed Mona gently on her forehead. Having spent her teen years with a human family that she didn't know wasn't actually her grandparents, she knew that 'foster' was just a word where family was concerned. She may not have been related by blood, but they helped shape her into the woman she was and she still carried their name as a result. "So, what do you have planned for this little getaway of ours?"

The brightly plumed aviatrix grinned wider as she propped herself up. "Well, we have a small paradise here and nothing to do but enjoy each other and the scenery. We have ample supply of fresh fruits, veggies, and tea... And homemade rum for some reason... So how about we go enjoy the open-air bath and some of the honeyed fruits while we watch the skies for a while? The skyfish should be out and active soon."

Having decided a few months ago to stop drinking, Dox chuckled slightly. "I'll save the rum for the next folks here, I think." Then she scooched up on her elbows, the thin satin sheet that had been half covering the pair floated down off of them. "So... you did all the packing for this. Did you pack anything to wear, or is this a really natural vacation?"

"There are a few togas in the closet, but other than what we wore here..." Mona pulled the covers back, revealing herself in her birthday suit. "Who needs clothes when there's no one else for at least a thousand kilometers or until tomorrow at sunset?"

Smiling, chuckled slightly. "I suspected as much." In spite of the efforts that the thickly built Romulan woman had made over the last few months in training for the Captain's tribunal, she was still decidedly more than a little pudgy and a bit self-conscious about her body, even with Mona. But she was working to get over herself and wasn't going to let her own insecurities color this vacation. "Okay. Naked it is."

Getting up, Dox stretched out by the side of the bed, unintentionally showing off her every freckle to her Miradonian partner. "You said we have Tea? Tea sounds magnificent."

Mona got up and stretched as well, showing off her beautiful plumage across her booty. "Yeah, they use honey in everything as a preservative instead of refrigeration though, so fair warning. The tea jugs are on the front porch." Finishing her decidedly pudger stretches, she headed off to get them some tea, collecting a couple of cups and filling them from the spigot of the large glass jug on the front porch.

"You know, if I weren't so skinny for a Miradonian, I don't think I'd ever pass my physical or medical evals," Mona declared as she sipped her tea with a twinkle in her eye.

Taking the offered glass, Mnhei'sahe stepped lightly onto the porch. She was still pushing past her nerves and half expected to see a group of crewmembers walking by to stare at her naked body. But instead, she looked longingly at Mona's impossible body and cricked an eyebrow. "Well, I'm not doing the medical exams. If I were, I would take longer."

Taking a sip, Dox let the slightly suggestive comment hand for a moment. By human or even Romulan standards, the curvaceous Miradonian was hardly skinny, though not nearly as rotund as Dox herself. But Dox didn't want to dwell on the comment and risk making her bond-mate self-conscious.

Not having a single self-conscious thought in her body at the moment, Mona enjoyed her tea and the view of both her mate and the gas seas around them for a few moments before taking a deep breath and stretching again. "This is the kind of relaxation we've been needing. No screens, no meetings, no schedules, no deck plates. Just us and nature. In fact, if we need to write something down, we'd have to use a stick and write it in the dirt."

"If I end up getting PaDD withdrawal, you might need to take away all the sticks, just in case." The red-headed Romulan joked as she stepped off the porch, putting her bare feet into the light dirt. As she did, she closed her eyes and listened to the winds swirling through the deeply colored gasses in the skies above.

It was a serene sound that was almost alien to the young pilot. "It's... strange to not hear the hum of the warp core or feel that light rumble under my feet. I mean, I've spent most of my life on ships, after all. But you're right, we needed this."

"This reminds me of when I was young," Mona began, stepping out onto the dirt with Dox. "Our home was built out of part of the colony ship on the edge of one of the world's seas and as chicks we would play most of the day. Our parents had built a dock and swings in the trees for us. for several years, everything seemed perfect. Just like this."

"Just then, a low pitched whine softly filtered through the air, only to be repeated shortly after it. A few more were heard before a six meter long, winged, rainbow-scaled fish flew up and through the sky less than a kilometer away, being chased by several smaller fish just like it.

"And there are the sky fish, right on time," Mona declared with confidence.

Taken aback, Mnhei'sahe gasped as she reached out with her free hand, blindly grabbing Mona's hand and squeezing tight. As she did, the vision of the flying fish was momentarily blended with an image from Mona's own mind's eye. A swing in a tree by the edge of a beautiful sea and the sound of a young Mona laughing. The sound of children laughing. It was an exhilarating experience as the moment before her became blended with such a beautiful memory.

It was as it once was. Through their renewed bond, Mona's memory simply became a part of the tapestry of Mnhei'sahe's own memories. She could feel the grass and sand of another world under Mona's young feet as if it had been her own. But it was the laughter that continued to ring through her head. That joyous, melodious laughter of Mona and her family lost in a moment of bliss many long years ago before tragedy would strike them. The laughter of Miradonian children at play. It was suddenly a sound the young Romulan realized she longed to hear again.

It was the briefest of flashes, shared through their bond, but it combined with the sight of the sky fish brought a tear to the young Romulan's eye. They were together and they were whole again. And in a few days, that bond would be sealed, and Mnhei'sahe squeezed her love's hand that much tighter and held her that much closer. This was what she wanted. This was what she had, and it was good.

Standing in the outer security ring of the brig located in the center of Deck 11, chief of Security Commander Rita Paris discussed the possibilities with the Chief Science Officer, Lieutenant Sonak.

“Given the bloodwork we’ve gotten from Sickbay, it appears that he’d likely be resistant to any number of pharmaceutical treatments we might employ to get the truth out of our Mr. Mudd. Apparently being a Terran scientist prepares one quite well to resist interrogation. So at this point, I would prefer to fall back on a mind meld only if absolutely necessary. But we need information from him- with Arenara dead…”

At that, Paris paused to steel herself., The accidental manslaughter of Arenara Artan was still quite fresh to her, and she was still struggling to deal with the guilt. While the Captain had cleared her of any charges and the Admiralty agreed, that did not ease the burden of her own conscience. Rita was a firm believer in the power of redemption, and that option would now be forever denied the Artan matriarch, as her life had been cut short by a phaser turned up too high, and an officer who was too slow in thought and fast on the trigger.

“Well, Doctor Davos Mudd is the one who likely knows all of the dirty secrets, all of the hidden plots and the machinations that the Queen Regent likely had in motion. The captain wants to know what he knows, and that’s where we come in." Paris paused to indicate the Vulcan freedom fighter from the Mirror Universe where Mudd himself had come, somehow. "I've included Miss Az'Prel today as I suspect she knows him better than most and can certainly contribute here, as well as to formally introduce you two, as I feel it would be good for Miss Az'Prel to get to know one another. So, how would you like to approach this, Mr. Sonak?”

While on duty, their relationship was professional and courteous, just as it was with any other shipmate. One would not know from seeing them interact in such a manner that they had actually been a couple for a number of years now, and that they shared intimately with one another on a regular basis.

Save for the matching Duranium bands of dove-grey starship hull material, which identified them as two who were one.

As would be expected, the Vulcan's thought were far from those personal considerations at this moment; not to mention that, to him, their bond was to him as deep, as natural and as necessary as breathing. Thus, he was frowning, pondering several permutations of the situation before replying.

''The point of origin of our suspect is irrelevant; our laws and principles apply to us and to our actions, else they mean nothing. In this regard, I would not be able to force a mind meld upon Doctor Mudd. This would violate the charter of rights applicable to any individual, even a prisoner of war... unless a life would depend directly on finding an answer from him. Even then, there would be boundaries we would not be allowed to cross.''

Already sensing her objections forming in her mind, he looked at her straight with his steely grey eyes.

''That being said, considering the universe where he comes from, he might not be aware of that. Of course, a lawyer would insist that all his rights be read to him... but I am not a lawyer.''

“I’d not want to force it- that is a valid point. But he doesn’t know that, necessarily. And his point of origin is relevant to his mindset, thus why I bring it up. Miss Az’Prel, do you perhaps have some insight into this man that would be applicable in this instance? Our options are somewhat limited, as we are not monsters nor war criminals, and the Captain isn’t terribly willing to cut a deal for his freedom in exchange for facts which may be shaky at best.” Paris was doing her best to lay out the facts and prepare the trio for the debriefing, but she had very low expectations for this exercise.

Sonak nodded.

''Indeed, in regard to his psychological profile and possible reactions, this is where his point of origin is definitely relevant.''

The displaced Vulcan woman was struggling to maintain her Vulcan composure while the subject of Dr. Mudd was on the table. "You should be aware that he and I shared an... Intimate... Relationship... For a time. To the point we had a child that he said he sold into slavery in our universe. I do not know what became of our daughter. As for a mind meld... I have some training in the methods employed by the Vulcans of my universe."

Az'Prel paused a moment before continuing.

"He is the one assassination target that I never completed my assignment. The night I was to do so, I was able to remove my other targets, but failed to remove him. I then spent an inordinately long time in an agony booth."

Sonak turned to face her.

''You are as obligated as I am to follow the rule of law. Would you or I impose a mind meld without his consent, anything revealed by the meld would become void and null in a court of law. In essence, you or I would help him escape justice by our own violation of the law.''

"Let's try the truth, then, and see where that gets us. Who knows, perhaps he'll listen to reason."

''According to his record, he is a man solely out for himself. Such men always look for opportunities... especially if they appear to benefit them. In this regard, he should prove quite reasonable.''


"I demand to speak to the Captain! I'll not deal with a minor functionary. Who ordered you to come interrogate me, anyway? What is it, what do you want to know- the body swapping technology, that's what you're after, isn't it? Or is it the knowledge that is mine alone to traverse freely between dimensions?"

From the moment they entered the questioning room, Mudd had streamed words at them in a verbal assault that was less a discussion and more of a stream of consciousness rant that barely counted as a diatribe of grievances.

"I'm an endangered species, according to the laws of your Federation. There's only me and my Eve over there to keep our species alive. So you can't harm a hair on my head, no matter how many delicious pointy-ears you bring around. So what's it to be? Torture? Agony? Thumbscrews? Polka music? Oooh, do you have Ceti eels? I've been dying to try those out. Does the torture come first, then the questions, or do we start with the questions first so I can tell you all sorts of outlandish lies and we'll all have a good laugh together before you start slicing parts off to eat in front of me."

Smiling benignly, Rita Paris lowered herself into a chair opposite the intergalactic criminal, flanked by Az'Prel and Sonak, each with quite similar body language. As Mudd babbled, she let him go on for another forty seconds, just to see if he'd run out of steam on his own, but he did not. Tapping the sleeve of her uniform, she checked the time, nodded down until she had given him a full minute, then she began to speak. The old school officer did not raise her voice, nor did she attempt to compete with the boisterous and loud blabbermouth- instead, she spoke with quiet earnest.

"Mister Mudd, this interview is vitally important to your future. It is a turning point for you, whether you embrace it or not. So you can continue to talk over, me, or you can listen to what I have to say. If you chose not to, that is an answer in and of itself. Apparently, the DTI is somewhat interested in your case, and they'd like the opportunity to study you. They've agreed to keep you in cryosleep while they do so, to ensure you don't pull one of your patented disappearing acts. If that's your choice, we'll just put you in a stasis field right here, trasnsport you to a stasis container and drop you off with them when we get the opportunity."

"Not that you'll be in a hurry, right?"

Mudd abruptly stopped talking.

"I'm guessing that you, as a veteran and studied liar, can read falsehood in others very well, Mr. Mudd. So now that I have your attention, I'm going to run a few ideas past you, and then we're going to talk. If you don't mind?" Paris asked indulgently.

"By all means. I am at your disposal, Madame Anachronism." Mudd offered magnanimously, taking a poke at Rita's display of her lost in time nature.

The Vulcan woman in the grey intel uniform cocked one eyebrow and looked to her male counterpart. She had never known the man to be willingly silenced for any reason, even in sleep. In that moment, her respect for Commander Paris grew two sizes.

"Rather than threaten you, Mr. Mudd-" Paris began, before he interjected.

"Doctor. It's Doctor Mudd, actually," he smiled.

''Actually, your credentials have yet to be authenticated... among many other points relevant to your identity and activities,'' Sonak pointed out.

"Rather than threaten you, Mister Mudd," Paris began again, "I'm going to give you an opportunity. As a man who appreciates an opportunity, I imagine this will appeal to you. Because the alternative is stasis. Which, on the bright side, means you get to time travel into the future, so that's a positive of that option. Just trying to point out the silver linings."

"Now, that opportunity. You see, I assume you know all about the Federation and our policies. Although it would be poetic justice for, say, Mr. Sonak to transfer all of the detailed memories Az'Prel has of her association with you into your mind so that you could experience it from the other side, we don't do that sort of thing."

"Oh, I don't know, that might be kinky..." he mused with a leer at Az'Prel, but Paris didn't rise to the bait.

"Instead, we ask you to act in your own enlightened self-interest. You see, we know that Arenara Artan has some rather extensive plans brewing out there. Quite a few irons in the fire, as it were. And we're going to give you the first chance to tell us about it. We've her first officer and the rest of the crew, each of whom will likely be willing to tell us the portion of her plans that they know, in exchange for some leniency... oh, and to NOT be turned over to the Artan pirates, almost forgot that part. because they most certainly do not play by Federation rules when the Federation isn't watching. As you saw firsthand yourself." Paris was still keeping her voice calm and gentle. This was a discussion, after all.

"So you can tell us what you know of what she's been up to out there, or one by one we'll plea bargain her crew out and put most of it together. But you... you know where the big skeletons are in that closet. You were her chief scientist. You brought her agonizer technology and closed her iron fist over her crew for good. Every soul on board lived in fear of her wrath a tenfold worse than when she was just a demanding captain. So I'm sure they'll be happy to know that you stayed strong and didn't say a word. Given how loyal to you they are, after that little gift to the Captain."

At that, Mudd smiled, although it wasn't quite as cocky as before.

"Now, I know what you're thinking-" Paris started, then she wagged a finger before her. "I misspeak- they know what you're thinking. I merely surmise. But I suspect you're thinking this is all a test, somehow. That the Captain sent me down to see if you would crack, to see if my polite and civilized method of interrogating you might work. To see if you would surrender the secrets of Arenara Artan. In which case, of course, you'd not breathe a word. You'll play this little game and pass the test- heck, you might even misinform us for fun, just to throw us off the trail or lead us straight into a trap. Because Her Majesty the Queen Regent really would enjoy that."

The narrowing of the eyes showed that Mudd was at least curious as to where this was going.

“I’ve got some news of the world you might have missed while Miss Az’Prel was graciously putting you in a sleeper hold. Arenara Artan is no more. So your loyalty is to a dead woman, Mr. Mudd. So if you are even considering cooperating, let’s factor that into your decision, shall we?” Paris watched the mischievous glint light up in the conman’s eyes as she spoke, that faint glimmer of ‘I know something you don’t know’ that she recognized clearly, even though the consummate conman was still playing it cool.

“I had no loyalty to the Artans. Arenara was just an employer- she paid well and gave me interesting projects. Given that your toothless Federation has no money, and your projects are bound to be dreadfully dull, I can’t imagine that you’ll be very interesting to work for at all,” Mudd explained in a rare moment of honesty. “But it beats being put into stasis- I mean, can you legally do that?”

“According to Commodore Meowlith, you are classified as an ‘extradimensional invader who presents a significant threat to the citizens of the Federation’. So she has already authorized that plan, thus reducing your flight risk, given the tricks and schemes you have already displayed,” Paris summarized, not bothering to look at the PaDD she had brought in, and just quoting from memory. “So yes, Mr. Mudd, we can and will put you into cold storage for a few decades while we work on rehabilitating you. Or Starfleet Intelligence will decide, much like crews of genetic augments from the 20th century that we find floating derelict in space, to leave you in stasis in storage somewhere very secure, to ensure that you will not bedevil future generations.”

There was consideration and scheming flickering behind the eyes of the extradimensional escape artist, but when he spoke, he spread his hands wide and asked, “What do you want to know?”

Which was when Enalia Telvan, mistress and commander of the USS Hera, burst into the questioning room in a haughty, righteous fury.

"You there!" Enalia started off, getting in the faces of the two Amazonian security that were watching over the brig. Or at least trying to, as they had a good 5-10 cm on her. "Why are you peons so relaxed? Your ~Cap-tain~ has entered the room! You should be at attention! And make sure your uniforms are freshly pressed next time or you'll be in the brig as well!"

Turning her attention away from them, she zeroed in on the interrogation team and Mudd, adopting the same pose she'd seen her mother use hundreds of times while commanding her forces - left side relaxed and right fist on her hip with her right foot slightly forward and braced. "Haven't you gotten anything out of that useless pile of puss yet? Or can we just toss him in cryostasis now?"

“Errrr… no, Captain Telvan,” Paris replied, in a tone that clearly reflected her confusion at the captain’s manner. “We were... discussing the facts, and giving Mr. Mudd the opportunity to plea bargain. I believe he was about to comply-“

"Oh come on! You're smarter than that!" Enalia rolled her eyes so hard she almost flipped her hair. "We all know that no Mudd in any universe or any timeline would ever comply unless there's money or his life on the line. In which case, he goes on ice! Right now!"

"You have a point, captain,'' Sonak then said in an icy tone, even flatter than anything he was already known for. ''I studied the record of this universe's Hartcourt Fenton Mudd and, if any indication is to be taken from the native universe of this present incarnation, this one would logically be even more devious..."

''Ahem herr... no, resourceful!'' protested Mudd.

''Scheming...''

''Cunning...'' the prisoner insisted.

"Conniving...''

''Dealing!''

''Even murderous,'' finished the Vulcan.

''Why Mister Vulcan, what would ever give you such a bad impression?''

The steely grey eyes froze him for a moment.

''On my home planet, I was born with an unprecedented level of psionic ability. While most Vulcans need to touch their subject to connect with their minds, I was able to do so without such a need from birth, much like Betazoids.''

Beads of sweat started to appear on the brow of the man.

“Captain, I really don't think-“ Paris stood as she protested, coming around her chair only to be shut down with a thunderous roar from the trill starship captain.

“I am NOT in the habit of repeating myself, Miss Paris!” The spotted captain got in the gold-clad commander’s face, a few centimeters from being nose to nose, despite Paris’ slight height advantage. When the captain spoke, she shook her head slightly from side to side, a trait of Arenara Artan’s that she knew all to well when belittling or threatening someone. “If you can’t do the job, how about if I demote you back to lieutenant? Then I’ll find some halfwit with more brains than breast to do your job, one who knows how to take ORDERS? Since it’s rapidly becoming so painfully clear that you are incapable!”

“Uh, ma’am, I think-“ Paris started again, only to be cut off by a low, dangerous tone.

“I… don’t… care… what… you… THINK,” Enalia hissed. “On my ship, you follow orders or you get keelhauled. So what’ll it be, Ensign Paris? Would you like to try for Petty Officer next?”

It was abundantly clear that Paris was both confused and flustered, and that this behavior was uncharacteristic to be coming from her commanding officer. Silently she nodded, then in a terse voice replied. “Yes, captain. I’ll make the arrangements to have Mr. Mudd put into stasis immediately.”

“Goooooood,” Enalia stretched out the word, another habit of her mother’s that she combined with a patronizing pat on the head, before turning to regard Mudd. “Whatever he has to say about my dear, dear departed mother, I don’t want another word of it heard. This man is a menace, and the sooner the universe is rid of him, the sooner we can all breathe easier.”

At that, the captain eyed Mudd meaningfully, with a crooked pirate’s grin that silently conveyed ‘enjoy your double-cross’ before she turned to exit the room, then stopped and slowly turned back to face Rita Paris again, patting her on one cheek almost tenderly, a sneer on her face.

"You know, you saved me from my dearly departed..." Pausing dramatically, Enalia's eyes flickered to Mudd for the briefest of seconds. "Mother... I suppose I owe you for that. Thank you for saving my life and disintegrating her as she threw herself on my sword. My goodwill, however, does not extend to leniency in regard to insubordination. I will not repeat my orders again." And with that, she stormed out of the room, a foul expression reminiscent of her mother's on her face.

Looking to the Vulcans, Paris looked confused, wounded and befuddled all at the same time, but she reluctantly took her seat. “Well, Mr. Mudd… I’m not entirely sure why the captain wants you gone so strongly, but orders are orders…”

“You can’t put me in stasis! I know things! Things you need to know! Perfidious plans that are in place, menacing machinations in motion, sinister schemes slowly simmering. I was her right-hand man, you can’t just toss me aside! Look, if I give you something, can you keep me out of a stasis tube long enough to smuggle me off this ship? I can make it worth your while, I’m a very wealthy man! You could afford to buy your own moon! You’d be rich enough to wear that outfit and not have people laugh at you! Come on, Commander, let’s make a deal!”

A dubious expression settled on the face of the curvaceous commander, then she pursed her lips, folded her hands on the table before her and leaned in to whisper to Mudd. “I could try to go over the Captain’s head and put this through to the Commodore, and she could offer you a ‘stay of stasis’. But you have to give me five actionable pieces of intel, right here and now. And not little bread crumbs, Mudd- if you try to con me, I will not only have you placed in stasis, the yeoman might just lose the paperwork and you’re liable to end up in a storage closet on the polar moon of Rimbor.”

“So talk… and make it good, Mudd. Because if I am crossing the Captain for this, she’s been… moody since the Tribunal,” Rita Paris explained… all of which was true, as was what she said next. “So I doubt she would be happy about me going over her head should she find out. Ergo, the intel you give had better be worth it, understand?”

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

Half an hour later, Az'Prel, Sonak and Rita Paris strode out of the questioning room, after Mudd had been beamed back to his cell. Waiting outside, having observed the entire conversation, was Captain Telvan. Handing over the PaDD upon which she had collected the data, the old-school officer smirked at the clever Captain.

“Heck of a performance, ma’am,” Paris complimented the spotted starship captain.

''I think this is what on your Earth they called the ''good cop bad cop' routine,'' Sonak explained, nodding to his commanding officer.

"Please send my compliments to Jones and Piron as well as letting them pick a bottle or two from my personal stash." Enalia had her patented piratical, lopsided grin as she greeted them. "For the tree of you... Thank you. I owe you."

"Captain... He claims my daughter is on the fortress," Az'Prel blurted out with a hint of emotion. Trying to cover it up, she continued. "He also provided quite a bit of other intel, including what we need for our mission to the Drelax club on Indris four."

"We'll find her, Az'Prel. It's at the top of my to-do list- take a security team and go now," Paris ordered. "I assume she's either IN danger or IS dangerous. Assume nothing, and go find her."

"Thank you, Commander," Az'Prel replied, bowing her head in respect before heading off to collect a security team, firing off a very brief message to Jaeih as she did so.

"I might be able to get a bit more out of him, captain..." the old-school officer opined. "I've an idea I'd like to try that's a bit risky, but it might yield us some fairly significant results. After that, I think Mr. Mudd's going to take a nap until we can get him transferred to Starfleet Psych or Tantalus, wherever the Commodore decides to put him. With your permission, Captain?"

Enalia nodded without hesitation. "I trust you on this. Just don't let him escape, okay? One thing I did mean in there is that he's far too dangerous to be out loose in the galaxy. Especially with his knowledge of Terran Agony tech."

"No argument there, Captain. I'll get him on ice as quickly as possible," the conventionally cheerful commander confirmed. "But we can't pass up the chance for the intel he's giving us. What we've got already is... impressive. Unverified, but if it checks out it could change the face of the galaxy."

''Suspicions and speculations about one's potential danger to society, or potential gain of any kind resulting from custody, is not enough to deprive any individual from one's inherent rights,'' Sonak pointed out. ''Would it be so, we would be no better than him and the universe he comes from. Fortunately for us, his criminal record allows us to keep him in a proper penitential colony for quite some time; even if the best legal counsel in the Federation could possibly manage to alleviate his sentencing.''

"He not only imported, but refined Agonizer technology, Mr. Sonak. This is beyond suspicion and speculation- that alone is a war crime," Paris defended. "Keeping him confined in stasis until he can be safely interred at a rehabilitation facility hardly puts us in the same class as him or his universe. If you're referring to the deception we are playing out in order to glean actionable intelligence... again, I hardly think a ruse puts us anywhere near the amorality of the Terrans."

"This man has proven that he's one of the biggest indirect threats to this galaxy and the Federation that we've seen yet. Thus, he will be treated appropriately as per regulation." Enalia was grim and serious as she spoke. "I and the Commodore place him on par with Khan Singh, the Founders, and Species 8472 so all precautions must be taken. At the end of the day, he will find his way into stasis for the safety and stability of the Federation, and all surrounding governmental bodies in this timeline and others."

Sonak 's right eyebrow rose.

''I believe I said that.''

This was the closest ever his deadpan tone could ever come across, for anyone else but him, as nonplussed.

The Vulcan woman from the mirror of a now-collapsed shard of this universe, now led a team of two Amazonian Starfleet security guards and Jaeih Dox from the USS Hera. Their destination was the secret laboratory- at least in theory, according to him- of one Doctor Davos Mudd, hidden under the winter side of the Artan Family Orbital Fortress. Az'Prel had been told that her daughter, now somehow around twenty years of age, was stashed away there.

Additionally, he had indicated that he was using her as his own 'quantum anchor', which Sonak explained to mean that Mudd likely had not escaped the destruction of their universe in quite so organic a method as Az'Prel through the wormhole. Thus from his statement, it stood to reason that their daughter was serving to enable him to maintain his presence here, as he likely suffered from a similar malady to Commander Paris, wherein their previous universe was perennially pulling at him, attempting to reclaim him despite it no longer existing in this space and time.

While she was a logician and a Vulcan, the worry and anxiety was starting to show on the Vulcan freedom fighter's cool countenance. It was clearly cracking a bit as the tram they rode from the USS Hera's docking ramps towards the giant silver castle in the center of the fortress rushed along towards the far side of the habitat of the enormous fortress. Within minutes, they had made the 140km trek to the opposing docking ports, and were now descending into the underbelly, the snowy vistas vanishing to be replaced with scenery of the vast machinery that kept the behemoth station alive and generating enormous amounts of power.

The team was then deposited at the location that Mudd had indicated to be the entrance to his and Arenara's secret lair - right next to the general recycling systems.

Az'Prel reached up to pull on the lever that would open the large bay door to the labs but paused, her shaking hand resting on the lever for a moment as she took a deep breath.

Picking up on what for the Vulcan woman was likely unwanted emotions, the Romulan agent by her side turned to the two Klingon sisters that accompanied them and raised an eyebrow. "There are likely many traps and unforeseen obstacles in play here, Ladies. Please secure the perimeter for a moment. Thank you."

The cooler of the two Will"I"ams sisters simply nodded, seeming to understand the unspoken message and they stepped away out of earshot to scout the perimeter.

Turning back to one of the few people in the universe she thought of as a friend, Jaeih's tone became almost maternal. "Whatever we find in there, whatever he did, we will overcome. I've only known this crew a short time, but they have convinced me that if there is any way to make a wrong right, they will turn over the galaxy to find it. They, and we, will do no less for you or her."

Placing a hand on Az'Prel's shoulder gently, Jaeih continued. "You are feeling emotions you are having difficulty controlling. And maybe one day you will achieve your goal of total control. But today, know that there is power in the love of a mother for a daughter. It has transformed me, and it will empower you today to do what you must. You have our strength here as well."

Gesturing with a nod of her head, Jaeih signaled the Klingon sisters know to return and form up for the assault.

Az'Prel nodded, gaining the strength she needed from her friend's words. Her resolve strengthened, she pulled down on the handle, the doors slowly sliding apart to reveal the antechamber to Mudd's labs, which had a few Mudd-bots waiting to greet them.

Looking at the assemblage of smirking duplicates, each face equally punchable, Jaeih muttered a curse in Rihan, "Imirrhlhhse."

"What's all this, then?"
"Who are you... people. Are those actually people?"
"Say now, you're not supposed to be here!"

In the dimly-lit room of large pipes and metal grates for flooring, the three Muddbots were each dressed differently. One wore a long white double-breasted labcoat, with long black rubber gloves up to mid-forearm, and dark safety goggles resting at his hairline. The Mudd beside him wore an ostentatious blue admiral's tunic of the Artan livery, complete with fringed golden epaulets and festooned with an assortment of medals from the Artan fleet on his chest. The one beside him was dressed in some sort of heavy metal spacesuit drag, his figure a surprising match for that of Arenara Artan, as he carried the dark helmet under his arm. The room appeared to have no exits, save the one they had opened to get in.

Then all three of the Mudds froze, their eyes pulsing with an inner glow repeatedly for a few seconds, then they animated once more.

"Who are you people, anyway?"
"What are you doing here, whattya want?"
"A Romulan, A Vulcan, and two Klingons walk into a sewer- stop me if you've heard this one..."

Creepy robots of sadistic madmen with eyes that glowed were never a good thing, Jaeih thought as she took a single step back and commented. "I vote for 'stop them"... from a distance. The last one of these had an agonizer for a head according to the intelligence reports."

"According to the readings, these are all androids, thinly skinned with Mudd DNA as in Lieutenant Clemen's report. They would be undetectable to conventional scans, if you did not know what you were looking for," V'Nus reported, as S'Rina unclipped her phaser.

"I agree with the Romulan," S'Rina fired in quick succession, on heavy stun. Two of the three bots fell easily, then she pointed at the remaining Mudd, the one in the brilliant blue livery of the Artan fleet. "Talk! Where is he keeping the girl?"

As they waited for the Muddbot to speak, Az'Prel had her own tricorder out and was scanning. "I am detecting a great number of rudimentary traps. I advise caution."

“You remind me of the babe,” the Mudd knockoff explained, his eyes narrowing.

“What babe?” snarled Petty Officer S’Rina.

“The babe with the power,” the ersatz Mudd, cheerfully replied.

“What power?” the impatient petty officer demanded.

“The power of voodoo,” Mudd explained.

“What?!?” the impatient Klingon replied.

“No no, your next line is ‘Who do?’ and I reply ‘you do,” Mudd explained patiently.

“Do what?!?” S’Rina growled, finger tightening on the phaser’s trigger.

“Remind me of the babe...” the Mudd-bot replied, whereupon petty officer S’Rina shot him, dropping him to the sewer grade deck with his peers.

“Since interrogations are not producing positive results, I believe there is a hidden access in that pipe to the north,” Petty Officer V’Nus declared, having been scanning all this time. “I cannot see a way to access it, however.”

"Thank you for shutting that damned thing up, Miss Wil'l'Ams." Jaeih commented, pulling out her own tricorder to scan the pipe in question. "I'm detecting no traps here, but we must still be weary. The Scorpion droid that tried to kill my daughter could evade scans. Still..."

The experienced Romulan former Tal'Shiar agent bent over, shining a light on the underside of the pipe as she visually inspected it, "I know this architecture. I don't see an access hatch, but a focused cutting beam here should give us a hatch without disrupting its structural integrity."

Az'Prel was busy continuing her scans, focusing on the pipe now. "If I know my Mudd, a polarized magnetic flux emission is his normal method of triggering hidden doors as the method to create a key is incredibly easy." Tweaking the settings on her tricorder, it started to whine for a moment before the whole pipe started to rotate out of the way, revealing a hidden door covered in sensor scrambler paneling.

As the pipe finished moving, several spikes shot up out of the floor and out of the ceiling right in front of the door, mere inches in front of the Vulcan woman. "It appears I have discovered one of the traps. Fortunately, I have also discovered a door."

Eyes widening slightly at the trap she missed, Jaeih smirked awkwardly. "Well... I think to defer to your expertise here to be the wisest course of action. Thank you."

Exchanging concerned expressions, the two Klingon sisters had an unspoken conversation between them, then they both nodded in agreement. Pushing up their sleeves, they exposed the ancient bronze bracers that each wore, and the tapped the bracers together, left to right in a somewhat practiced, almost ritualistic manner. And suddenly they were equipped in their EVA armor, the black and white plates and pressure suit seemingly appearing upon their persons from nowhere. As the power systems booted up and their internal systems came online, V'Nus reported in as S'Rina moved in to inspect the newly exposed door.

"This is dangerous, and you are both civilians," the Wil'I'Ams sister informed both women, with one hand held up. "Yes, I know you are both very capable, but we are Starfleet. It would be dishonorable were we to lag back and let you two take the greater risk. And the Commander would have our dishonorable hides if anything happened to you. My sister is reporting in now, and she will bring up the rear. I will take the lead, and your expertise can keep me in one piece, yes?"

As she spoke, S'Rina produced a Mek'leth from nowhere and began studying the terrain with her armor's sensors.

"Very well," Az'Prel knew better than to argue with a Klingon, but she would do her best to keep them safe with her knowledge of Mudd and his quirks. "The door is likely charged with static. After opening, watch for simple string and wire traps."

Stepping over, S'Rina set the Mak'leth on the deck, by the point, and let gravity enable it to make contact with the door, without her in contact. The weapon sparked as it hit the door, then fell to the deck. Growling, S'Rina moved back in, picking up her weapon and turning the handle on the door. Opening it slightly, the Klingon warrior flicked her wrist and the one-handed Klingon blade disappeared, to be replaced with another flick of the wrist by a full-sized Baat'leth. Reaching in through the doorway using the reach of the longer weapon, she pushed the wire she had spotted beyond the door as she'd been told what to look for. The door slammed shut as a displacement of air took place behind the door.

"Pitfall into the sewage. I do not like whomever built all of this," S'Rina growled as she moved to open the door again, only to have the handle come off in her hand.

"I did not grab it that hard!" the burly Klingon security officer protested as a deadfall dropped from the ceiling. Az’Prel, prepared for such an eventuality, grabbed the armored Klingon security officer and whirled, spinning her out of harm’s way as a block of stone fell onto the spot where S’Rina had just previously been standing.

Looking at the cracked stone block, easily large enough to have crushed any one of the four, Jaeih cricked an eyebrow. "So, this is how his traps evade our scans. Stone and string. Springs and trip wires. No power sources or modern technology to show up on our instruments. Quite clever."

Then the seasoned Romulan former spy scoffed. "Yes, I'm quite fed up with this sociopath’s tricks and traps. Perhaps when we get back to the ship, Commander Paris will let us go to the brig and all take turns punching his smug face for our troubles."

"I fear I may enjoy that, after all these years..." Az'Prel mumbled, tuning her tricorder for the more primitive traps that he was prone to using. "Further in, once we're used to these traps, watch for pressure plates. They're likely to activate disintegration or agony fields built into the corridors."

The Klingon sisters exchanged dark looks and words, muttering curses for the dishonorable under their breath.

Knowing the Klingon language well, Jaeih grimaced as she walked past the sisters in their native tongue, "You can say that again, Ladies."

With that, the wary foursome proceeded, deeper into the labyrinth of traps and tricks, each deadly and wildly unpredictable. The bracers of Hera as well as their EVA armor granted the Wil'I'ams sisters an advantage Mudd could not have accounted for, with their shimmering blue shields that found tremendous use in the challenges, as well as their extensive repertoire of weaponry.

Traps, tricks, disintegrators, agonizers, deadfalls, pit traps, spike traps, pressure plates, and transporter traps abounded throughout the complex and varied maze which the two security officers and the civilian Intel operatives navigated, slowly making their way with a minimal loss of blood and pain, but a maximum of frustration. By the time they figured out the precise sequence of colored stones to press to open a secret door, the Wil’I’Ams sisters were ready to begin simply phasering every obstacle to get where they were going.

Which was when a shield generator shut down, and as the 20 sequence color code was cracked by Az’Prel, the wall swung open to reveal a series of cells, one harboring a humanoid life form.

A half-human, half Vulcan life form.

Long dark hair, cut in a ragged and uneven manner was matted to the young woman’s head and to the rags she wore as ostensible clothing. She was thin, although not to the point of emaciation, although that was hard to tell as she cowered in the corner of her simple stone cell with metal bars across it. There was no bed, just a hole for waste that stunk, as did the young woman herself. A crisscrossing roadmap of scars was visible all over her body, as it was clear that she had suffered years of abuse.

No sound was made- instead, she cowered in the corner, attempting to make her slender frame as small as possible as she hid from the invaders.

"Nouhha..." Jaeih gasped, calling out to gods the Romulan woman didn't believe in. Then, centering herself and quickly regaining her composure, whispered to S'Rina and V'Nus as subtlely as was possible. "We need full scans. Highest levels with your HUD's so as to not startle her anymore. But we need to know that we're seeing what we think we're seeing. No holograms or androids. No faked injuries or makeup. We can't take any chances with him."

“Confirmed,” V’Nus replied, speaking quietly. “Mild malnutrition, a definite life form, half human, half Vulcan. I show…. there is a lot in her genetic code that is beyond me, but she is not a hologram, nor is she an android, unless she is of a type we’ve not seen. No current injuries show up on scans, and… well, there are lice in her hair and she has fleas…”

"Lovely. Stay on guard, please. I trust nothing about this situation and something doesn't feel right." Jaeih whispered to V'Nus as she stepped over, placing a hand on Az'Prel's shoulder, not bothering to repeat the information she knew the trained freedom fighter had been able to hear easily. "We will proceed however you wish, Az'Prel. We are all here to help as needed."

The displaced Vulcan woman was struggling to maintain her composure as she stood there a moment, her mind rushing through scenarios. She'd already confirmed that this was her offspring with her tricorder and tucked it away so she swallowed and walked up to the cage, inspecting it a moment before lifting the heavy steel door off its hinges and tossing it aside like it was made of balsa wood.

Az'Prel then kneeled in the doorway and studied the girl a moment before speaking. "Do you know who I am? Do you know who you are to me?"

Slowly and cautiously, the bedraggled urchin in the corner of the dirty cell took her arm away from her face to allow her eyes to flicker over to the Vulcan woman. After having torn the cell door off, demonstrating superior strength, it appeared that the young woman was quite wary. But as her frightened gaze darted about, taking in all of the strangers invading the small world she inhabited, she shook her head in an economical gesture designed to convey a negative response with a minimum of movement which might draw attention.

"My name is Az'Prel. I am your mother," she said as calmly and as softly as she could. "Your name is Stella, correct? I'm here to rescue you."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vK4gv11PTI8

"My name is Az'Prel. I am your mother," she said as calmly and as softly as she could. "Your name is Stella, correct? I'm here to rescue you."

The young woman in the cell’s eyes widened at those words, shock and surprise clearly evident on her face before a cloud of suspicion settled in once more. Somewhat unwillingly, she curled up a bit tighter in the corner. It was clear that while she wished to believe what she was told, she had been tricked too many times before, and was unwilling to accept the tableau before her.

Az'Prel nodded and instead of pushing the issue, she pulled a fruit and nut bar out of her pocket and popped it open, taking a bite of it thoughtfully before offering it to the caged woman. "I am with Starfleet now. They have food and medicine and you can live how you wish. I just ask that you come with me for now, ok?"

As Az'Prel spoke, Jaeih held her hands to her sidesnand gestured lightly to the two armor clad Klingon's, taking two steps back. Whispering, the still suspicious Romulan added, "Let's give her a bit more room, ladies. Not too much, but enough to be a smidge less intimidating. Low ready stance, secured weapons, I think."

With a look of reluctance, S'Rina and V'Nus complied. It wasn't an order as much as a suggestion, but they followed it for the moment, stepping back to Jaeih's position.

There was clearly a battle raging behind the dark eyes of the slender young woman, as she eyed the food, eyed Az’Prel, eyed the two armored Klingons and the Romulan agent. But slowly, hesitantly, she reached out for the ration bar, and, finger shaking, she touched it, feeling the texture with her dirty fingers before snatching it from Az’Prel’s hand.

“Are you a new model?” she asked in a raspy voice unaccustomed to speaking. “A new trick Mudd wants to play on me? My mother is dead,” she spat as she shoved the ration bar entirely into her mouth, as if she were afraid that someone would take it away from her.

The Vulcan woman was slightly taken aback for a moment as she processed those words. 'Are you a new model?' Mudd certainly had a penchant for biosynthetic androids, but she hadn't expected to be mistaken for one herself. "No... I am not an android, I am Vulcan. My blood is green, unlike the uninspired novelties he produces. I am indeed your mother, and as you can clearly see, quite alive, contrary to his best efforts. If you desire proof, you may come with me and ask him yourself. We have him in custody for his crimes."

At those words, the girl's eyes opened wide, then narrowed again in suspicion. Swallowing the ration bar with some effort, she peered into the eyes of the inscrutable Vulcan, as if weighing the truth of what she said. "I... yes. I desire proof. Show me that you have Mudd in custody for his crimes. I would ask him if you are..."

As she spoke, mirroring Az'Prel's words, the similarities in tone could be heard a bit clearer, and as she slowly and somewhat unsteadily rose from the floor, it was a bit clearer that she was indeed her mother's daughter. While the matted hair covered her pointed eartips, the Vulcan eyebrows and facial structure were unmistakably similar to that of Az'Prel. And despite her slender build, it was clear that she still had a surprising figure beneath those rags. As Az'Prel rose with her, the young woman's eyes searched the face of the Vulcan woman she had never laid eyes upon her entire life.

It was painfully clear that she wanted to believe, although it was just as clear that she was waiting for this to all turn out to be a trick or a mind game.

"Then we will return to the Hera. You will have food, medical treatment, and your proof." Nodding to the younger woman, Az'Prel looked to her Romulan friend, a strange look of almost hope and joy barely peeking through her Vulcan features. "I fear we may be far too deep in the fortress for transport, so we will likely be required to return the way we came."

For her part, Jaieh could read the slightest of emotions on the conflicted Vulcan's face with the easy of a master poker player and it made her own heart happy to see, even though their situation was vexing. "Fantastic. With our luck, there are somehow as many traps leaving as there are..."

But Jaeih was cut off, as Petty Officer V'Nus stepped over to interject. "While my sister and I would relish razing this infuriating maze to ash and cinder on the way out, it will be unnecessary. Our EVA suits are designed to function as advanced Transport pattern enhancers. Even this deep in the station, we have remained in full transporter lock with the Hera the entire time. Simply stand between us and we can beam out now."

Guided easily into position, the stoop-shouldered Vulcan girl looked up at the EVA suited Klingons with fear of the unknown plainly written across her face. As V'Nus retracted her helmet and silently encouraged her sister to do the same, she looked down at the wretch. "We are Starfleet. We come to help. With honor."

The timid girl still withdrew a bit from the Klingon, backing instead into Az'Prel. Jumping at the contact and whirling about, she calmed herself, then her lips pursed and her face took on a curious expression. "What is 'Starfleet' ?"

Az'Prel mulled the question over for a moment before replying. "In this universe they are the military and exploration force of the Federation, a governing body comprised of thousands of races joined together diplomatically in their love of peaceful coexistence, which was founded by Humans." Pausing a moment, she continued. "Once you meet Commander Paris you will understand better. She is... Unique..."

"Humans? You mean Terrans?" the ragamuffin asked as the transporter effect took hold. Rematerializing in Transporter Room 2, the young woman shrank back again, taking in the sight of the clean and expansive transporter room. Looking for a corner to hide in, the curved back of the pad platform frustrated her for a few seconds.

"The Humans here are polarized opposites of our Terrans," Az'Prel replied patiently. "They are also a vast minority here."

S'Rina moved to block off the wretched girl from one side, then V'Nus cut her off from the other. Looking around in something of a panic, the young woman clutched at Az'Prel. "You... you said custody, you have, you have custody of Mudd? And that you..." the young woman's face contorted as if she were afraid to say the words, for fear of them possibly being true. "You are my, my mother, and he said you were dead but he's, he's here, you said you have him, custody, he's in custody so he can't get at me but he's here and I can, you said I can ask him myself?"

"We need to get clearance first, which will take a little time. For now, please allow us to provide medical care while we wait. It won't take long." She was trying to be as patient as she could, but it was obvious that Az'Prel had little to no idea how to deal with children, her own daughter, or the situation she had been presented with.

Watching the situation begin to unravel, Jaeih was becoming concerned not just for the disheveled young woman, but for her conflicted and increasingly emotional mother. And while she thought of her own skills as a mother as woefully inadequate, she had to try and help one of the few people in the universe she considered a friend.

Turning towards V'Nus, the calmer of the two mountainous sisters, Jaeih took a significant risk considering her lack of actual rank. "Miss Wil'l'Ams. Please back off. The security fields in the corridor can secure the chamber without terrifying the girl. Give her space and contact medical and the Commander and appraise them of the situation."

Then, not waiting for a reply, the elder Dox turned towards Az'Prel's daughter, standing shoulder to shoulder with Az'Prel, her hands open and turned palms up at her side as she struggled to find words to try and help calm the increasingly panicked young woman.

"Hello, Stella. My... Uh... My name is Jaeih. I'm a friend of your Mother. I know you're frightened. This is a lot to try and understand all at once, but I promise you that everyone here is just here to help you."

Her voice dropped to a soft but raspy whisper that the Klingon's would have to struggle to hear, but that Vulcan ears could hear easily that was more comfortable and hopefully, calming. As she did, she glanced over to the transporter control podium and saw an opportunity. Gesturing with her head, she motioned for the chief on duty to step away.

"Here... Do you want to come and sit down over here? It's nice and quiet and we can all talk. Me, you, your Mother. I know she would like to talk to you." Jaeih stepped back a few steps, towards the podium where she took a seat on the floor on the side of it, one of the only slightly darker corners in the room.

Looking around, the girl's eyes narrowed. "This WAS a trick! No no no, put me back in my cell! You don't have him, this is all another one of his games, but if I'm back in my cell when he gets back it'll be okay and he won't be mad!" Waving her hand in the general direction of the control panel, she started crying. "Make it work, send me back!"

"Calm yourself child!" The Vulcan woman had lost her patience and raised her voice, the sound echoing off of the transporter room walls. Taking a deep, calming breath, she centered herself. These events were certainly testing her emotional control. "If it is amenable to everyone, we will go to the brig now, and meet with the chief of security there. Once there, if we are allowed visitation... We will visit with your... Father..."

Standing back up, Jaeih straightened her uniform in frustration at her failure and waited.

Tapping out messages in the visor of her HUD while sending sensor feed through HERAnet, Petty officer V'Nus got her orders. "The Commander agrees. Beam us to main detention," she instructed the transporter technician, who moved back into position, the order confirmed on his panel.

Already on the pad, the confused and frightened young woman looked around as everyone stepped back onto the transporter pad with her.

"Are we going back?" Mudd's daughter asked as the transporter effect took hold, and they materialized in the central secured area of Deck 11, the outer portion known as main detention. Transmitting her orders, the tall yet slender Klingon sister moved with elegance and grace in the sealed environmental suit she wore. Bringing up the rear, her burlier and somewhat shorter sister S'Rina followed, her sensors active, prepared for trouble and coordinating with the incoming chief of Security.

Passing through checkpoints, they made their way through a series of guard stations, man traps and clearance points until they arrived in maximum security, where behind forcefields dwelled Harry Mudd and the bridge crew of the HMS Bloody Rose. As they entered, none of the prisoners particularly reacted, until they reached the cell that held Doctor Davos Mudd.

Looking up with disinterest, Mudd's expression changed immediately as a mask of rage overtook him, and he hurled himself at the forcefield. "YOU! What are you doing here! You're not supposed to be here, I told you to hide or they'll get you! Why are you here?!?"

"I have a right to my own daughter, Terran," Az'Prel shot back, the Vulcan superiority in her voice and expression as plain as day to anyone in the room. "Or will you admit that truth?"

Stepping over to the cell holding the mad scientist who had raised her all of her life, the dirty and disheveled young woman held up her hand to the forcefield, her finger tapping off of it to cause it to flare with a lavender light. "Is... is what she says true? You told me my mother was dead, but this woman says she's my mother... is this true? Is this woman my mother?!?"

Sighing, Mudd shook his head then raised his hand to the forcefield where his daughter's hand hovered. "I'm afraid so, blossom."

Which was when her hand slid into the forcefield, the field around it turning a bright orange light around her form as she took his hand to stroll into the cell. Behind her, there was a clunk as something ejected from within her, as if she were laying an egg. A second after it hit the deck was when the zero point energy grenade went off. A bluish energy aura covered each of the four who had fought their way through a miserable trap-filled sewer just to rescue the young woman, who now looked quite different on the other side of the forcefield.

Still she was slender, but not a malnourished waif. The dirty rags reorganized like nanomachines, transforming into a tight, stylish grey minidress, while her pile of dark brown hair unmatted itself and wove itself like a crown of serpents into an elaborate beehive- precisely the same style as worn by her mother. Her abused and scarred skin reorganized itself into a smooth and flawless complexion. Her delicately tapered ears were now visible, and her resemblance to Az'Prel was both clear and striking. Save in the eyes, which were not the honey color of Az'Prel's own, but the dark brown eyes of... Mudd.

"I have to say, Daddy, she was an AMAZING disappointment to meet in person, really. From your stories, I thought she was this ruthless and patient murderess who dealt in cold logic, not... " the dismissive and haughty young woman waggled her fingers at the paralyzed and helpless Vulcan freedom fighter outside the cell. "Whatever this hot mess is. Amateur hour, I swear. Okay, internal sensors indicate the forcefield's only shifting through seven frequencies, here comes ours. Ready to get gone Daddy?"

The brig door began to cycle open, as more security personnel moved to intervene. Mudd grinned at Az'Prel and shot 'gun fingers' at her. "I'm so glad you survived, sweetheart. It's always good to have an ex who wants you dead. Keeps you on your toes!"

As the daring duo began to disappear in swirls of controlled matter conversion, Az'Prel's daughter, somehow, impossibly, an adult who was raised by Davros Mudd, offered her mother a raised eyebrow and a smirk. "The name's Cleopatra Mudd, momsie. Next time get it right..."

As a squad of Security personnel burst into the maximum security wing of the brig, the twinkling lights died down, and the Mudds were gone, even as the zero point energy trap ran out of power.

Released from the energy of the trap, Az'Prel took several gasping breaths before she pulled out the one thing she had painstakingly recreated from her old universe and kept hidden at the small of her back once she knew that Doctor Davos Mudd was still alive. The small bioceramic dagger she had used for covert assassinations.

Having had been pushed past her limits, she abandoned her emotional control and slowly raised the small ritualistic dagger and both hands over her head. "Davos Mudd... Twice now you have escaped me... You have used my own daughter to do it both times... By all the stars... If your path ever crosses mine again, I swear by the God of Death, your life will be mine!"

Having sworn her passionate oath, she sliced open her open hand, letting the green blood trickle on her face and into her eyes. Beside her, the manifestation of Death who kept a room on the Hera noted the oath, then moved on about her duties.

As the coldly furious Vulcan swore her vengeance, both Klingon sisters manifested blades in their hands, and both joined Az'Prel in the shedding of blood and wearing of an oath, as both cried the Klingon word for 'Vengeance' to the overhead, "BORTAS MUDD!!!"

For her part, Jaeih simply stood back up off of the floor where the zero-point energy had pinned her just moments before. Her face was flushed green with rage, but she kept it contained behind eyes that seemed colder than they had since joining the Hera. She adjusted the top of her uniform and cricked her neck as the pent up frustration built in her.

This was, in her eyes, a failure on every level.

There had been countless signs that all was not as it seemed and she overlooked them in a desire to help her friend. She pushed aside her doubts and suspicions in favor of the cancer that was hope, and all was almost lost for it. She had forgotten who she was in trying to be what she thought her own daughter needed her to be and she had failed as a result.

"P'tned-pra'krsh hlun." Jaeih muttered under her breath in her native Rihan... 'Never again.'


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=953PkxFNiko

Sitting uncomfortably in the security ring of the brig located in the center of Deck 11 of the U.S.S. Hera, the former Tal'Shiar agent and newly minted Intelligence Operative for the Hera, Jaeih Dox, wasn't feeling particularly intelligent.

Sitting next to the Vulcan refugee from another dimension, Az'Prel, the elder Romulan woman felt like a child and a fool. Earlier that very day, she accompanied Az'Prel and the two security officers, V'Nus and S'Rina Wil'i'ams to a secret level of the Artan Family Fortress where the Hera was still docked, in search of the Vulcan woman's missing daughter. The woman they now knew as Cleopatra Mudd.

After braving a plethora of death traps, the quartet liberated a young half Vulcan, half Human woman from what appeared to be a harsh and torturous captivity. But nothing was what it seemed, and they were all deceived by an elaborate and technologically advanced illusion that allowed the faux-victim to be beamed directly to the Hera's brig, where she immediately incapacitated them all and made off with the prisoner and her father, Davo Mudd.

So now, while the Klingon sisters were taken elsewhere for their debriefing, Jaeih and Az'Prel sat and waited for their own. Sitting in an interrogation room while they did so didn't exactly make Jaeih feel comfortable or confident. But that was fine by her, as she had no desire to feel any better. She preferred sulking in her own anger at her failure at the moment. She had failed, and allowed herself to be conned. She deserved nothing more. That was all she could think about. That, and whether or not this ship was truly a safe place for herself or her own daughter.

As the door whooshed open, the gold-clad commander in the mod minidress of another age entered. Commander Rita Paris was the First Officer of the USS Hera, and in many cases the captain delegated such missions and duties to her, while the captain herself interfaced with Starfleet and the Admiralty, as well as the numerous details of the Artan Fleet that needed tending.

Which meant that the onus of this particularly catastrophe was upon her shoulders. But, she knew the two women she faced as she sat down at the simple table, and knew them better than one might expect. As she slid her hands over her skirt in a practiced maneuver, then pulled her chair in, she faced them with a surprisingly neutral expression.

“I’ve debriefed the security officers who accompanied you on this mission, and I have reviewed the sensor logs as well as the brig sensor logs, so I am very well aware of what transpired on this mission. I’ve chosen to debrief you both at the same time, because this is far from an interrogation, and I feel that between you both I will receive a more comprehensive report than separate.” The business of the debriefing in place, Paris’ tone softened a bit.

“I know that for both of you this is difficult. But this is necessary, as you both know, and I very much want to hear your perspectives on the mission, as well as how it is affecting you. I am also very well aware that you are both planning to trip over yourselves in your haste to blame yourselves for what you perceive as personal failings in this mission.” Making clear eye contact with each of them in turn, the ancient astronaut of a golden age emphasized her point. “I’m not here to listen to your self-recriminations. I would like to hear the facts, clear and simple, then we’ll discuss what could have been done differently, and then we will move on to how to prevent such situations in the future.”

With all of that said, she paused to observe the reactions of both women before she addressed the Romulan intelligence agent. “Mrs. Dox, I would like to hear from you first. Mission summary.”

Folding her hands in front of her on the table, Jaeih Dox kept a flat expression, doing her level best to not betray her own swirling emotions in the moment.

"We arrived at the pre-determined coordinates as informed by the intelligence gathered in Mudd's questioning. Once we had gained access to the chamber, we then had to work our way through a series of... for lack of a better term... death traps. The majority of said obstacles were exceedingly low-tech. Trap doors, spring-loaded spikes and the like, the details of which have been recorded for review. After a slow but extended sojourn through these traps, we arrived at the central point, a series of dilapidated holding cells where we encountered the subject."

The elder Romulan woman continued with a dispassionate tone. "The subject appeared to be in a state of extreme physical malnutrition and systemic abuse. The cell reeked of waste and all visual cues told us that we were seeing... what we expected to see." It was the first moment where her guard slipped in the retelling.

"I requested, at that moment, that the Petty Officers utilize their EVA suit scanners to check for deception. Holograms, androids, theatrical make up. Anything that could be used to deceive our eyes. The scans failed to see through the holographics we later learned were being employed. There was only a minor discrepancy in her DNA that the Petty Officer could not explain."

Taking a brief second to take a breath, Jaeih continued. "I expressed my concerns to stay vigilant as Az'Prel made contact with the subject and physically removed the antiquated door from the cell. This further raised questions about the situation as a half-Vulcan should have been exactly as capable of that same feat of strength, but feeling as though we were as on guard as was possible, allowed the situation to continue."

It was clear that her attempts at remaining dispassionate were beginning to fail as, more and more, she strayed from the simple facts to include her thoughts. As she noticed this, she cleared her throat and re-centered herself. "The subject appeared to be in a state of extreme emotional distress and it... appeared that she needed assistance. Az'Prel attempted communication, but the subject's mannerisms had concerned me that..."

Pausing again, Jaeih's frustration was becoming more evident as she let the slightest of scoffs out. "I was... concerned for her mental wellbeing. At which point I requested the Petty Officers follow me as I stepped back to give her more room."

"After an extended discussion in which Az'Prel offered... the subject... a protein bar... she was able to convince the subject to return with us on the grounds that we could prove we had Mudd in custody." At which point, Jaeih stopped, putting her fingers up to rub the bridge of her nose as she took an extended breath.

Finally, her emotions had gotten the better of her. No tears welled up as might have with her daughter, but instead there was a deep and painful anger bubbling beneath the surface as Jaeih editorialized. "We should have known! At that point, we should have known better. There were a dozen ways to convince her that Az'Prel was really her mother. A confession from Mudd made no sense. But it seemed like what she needed emotionally, so I overlooked my suspicions and tried to help her like a fool!"

Nodding, with pursed lips, the first officer had a surprisingly effective poker face in place as she listened. Turning to regard the Vulcan freedom fighter, Paris asked the next question. “Miss Az’Prel, your perspective on Mrs. Dox’s accounting of the events thus far?”

The Vulcan woman was trying to hold it together, her best meditative masque in place. When she spoke, however, the violent storm of emotions inside of her were as plain as day to the two women skilled at reading such things in Vulcans. "The accounting to that point is accurate. Mudd is fond of low tech traps and adding higher tech to them towards the end of his dens. As for the cage door, it was secured with half pin barrel hinges so lifting it away was suspiciously easy and I let the vision of my daughter cloud my judgment."

"However, it did weigh at least seventy kilos so there was a chance that a half Terran, half Vulcan in the malnourished and abused state that she presented would have had severe difficulty in moving it. Especially if she had been mentally conditioned." She paused a moment to tightly grip the bandage on her wounded hand, squeezing the cut she had placed there when she had made her blood oath to kill Mudd after he had escaped her again.

Furrowing her brow, she continued. "My tricorder was able to confirm that she was my daughter, but that was all that I scanned for. I trusted in the scanners of the others and only allowed myself to see the woman before me as a victim of the same man whom I myself had been victimized. I wanted to offer her closure that he would face justice for his crimes and to be able to face him one last time and to reveal in person his lies and deceit. I allowed emotion to cloud my judgment." Az'Prel's breathing was heavier now - as if she were fighting someone or something.

“I see. Now, let me offer you a revised account of this mission,” Commander Paris offered. “I interrogated Mudd, attempting to con the conman, as it were. Whether it was successful or not, and whether any of the intelligence we received is actionable remains to be seen. As one of those bits of intel was the location of Miss Az’Prel’s daughter, I dispatched a team to investigate.”

“The team encountered heavy resistance, and when they located the target, all signs indicated a pattern of abuse and neglect consistent with Mudd’s previously established pattern of behavior. In attempting to offer a compassionate response, rather than further traumatizing the victim, the Intel team made contact, coaxed the traumatized prisoner out, and transported them to the USS Hera. Once aboard, the subject evidenced extreme anxiety and would not be satisfied with anything less than personally witnessing the incarceration of her captor. This was approved by command, and the intelligence team was beamed to the brig to reduce further trauma to the victim.” Throughout all of this report, Paris was maintaining a stoicism unlike her usual demeanor, more akin to what her audience might project under ordinary circumstances.

“According to scans and conjecture, upon entering the detention area in which Mudd was imprisoned, the subject exercised a multiphasic forcefield synchronizer to bypass the brig cell forcefield, while disgorging from within herself a device of unknown origin which temporarily rendered all personnel nearby paralyzed. Employing a slow but effective transporter, they both beamed out together, thus making good their escape.” Sitting back, Paris’ hands were still folded on the table before her.

“The Science department is currently hypothesizing that the subject who self-identified as ‘Cleopatra Mudd’ is in fact an advanced cyborg, incorporating elements of the Mudd androids we have already encountered, along with a number of modifications which include sensor camouflage, flesh manipulation, nanomachines and advanced sensor capability.” At this, Paris sighed.

“That’s the official word. Now the unofficial word.” Paris fixed both of them in turn with her gaze. “I sent you on that mission, ill-prepared and knowing that you would both be emotionally compromised. But I sent you anyway. I authorized the beamout. I authorized the entry into the brig. Every decision and choice that was made which proved to be a mistake was mine, not yours.” Holding up a hand to forestall the arguments she knew were incoming, the First Officer indicated that she wasn’t finished.

“You showed compassion for someone clearly in need. You tried to help someone with whose abuse you are familiar with, with whose plight you understand and empathize. You let down your guard because you were conned by someone who has spent their entire life learning from the master. She manipulated you, used your emotional attachments and your maternal instincts against you both. Neither of you did a single solitary thing on this mission which I would not have done myself.” Rolling her eyes, Paris continued. “Which is to say, I was also hoodwinked, also deceived and this failure is actually resting on neither of you. Both of you and the Wil’I’Ams sisters comported yourselves honorably, professionally and with the compassion that is the hallmark of Starfleet.”

“Truth be told, I am proud of both of you. Your training screamed at you to believe none of it, but you overrode it in order to show kindness, to offer a hand to one in need and to make the best of a terrible situation. I failed you, at the command level. So while I know you will internalize this and blame yourself despite my words, turn it into bitter self-loathing that will give you cause to never let your ‘soft feelings’ interfere with your work ever again,” Paris pointed to Jaieh. “And you will remonstrate yourself for allowing years of pent-up emotion regarding your daughter to cloud your judgment and see yourself as a failure as a logician,” Paris turned to point at Az’Prel, “I will not hear it.”

“Neither of you failed. You did the right thing, and again, what I myself would have done. Scans showed her to be what she appeared to be. Transporter records show the same. We could not have anticipated the technologies at work, nor that we were being used to orchestrate a breakout. There was no possible way to have known any of this, and I won’t having you two blaming yourselves.” Leaning in toward them again, Paris raised a Vulcan-esque eyebrow.

“I still retain full confidence in you both, and I will not hesitate to entrust such missions to you moving forward. I will be happy to hear your arguments and recriminations here, in this room, today only. But when we leave this room, you had damn well better believe that your compassion, your mercy and your kindness in this affair were not detriments that must be stamped out. I will NOT allow Mudd to do that to either of you. I would appreciate it if you would do the same… because you are better than that, both of you.” With that, Paris sat back, unclasped her hands and held her arms out, palms up.

“I will now entertain rebuttals,” she added.

Sitting slightly back in her chair, Jaeih crossed her arms for a moment in a slightly defensive posture. Rita Paris' words were the exact opposite of what the world-weary former Tal'Shiar agent wanted to hear. On some level, Jaeih realized that she both expected and WANTED to be reprimanded. Chastised for her failures. There was a comfort in that for her and she was bizarrely uncomfortable with Paris' message. She wanted to be punished as she had been punishing herself. And in a strange way, she had been.

Uncrossing her arms, the elder Romulan bristled for a moment, forever surprised at how much respect the golden clad human, many years younger than her in actual life experiences, commanded. And in spite of her best efforts, Paris' arguments were all but air-tight. But for one detail which stuck in her head and in spite of herself, it was a detail that was bothering her even more than her own self-recrimination at the moment. Paris' words, 'I failed you."

"No. If none of this was our fault, and based on your logic it isn't, then how is it yours, commander? No speeches about the burdens of command. If I don't get to blame myself for this incident, then neither do you." Jaieh said, leaning forward slightly, with a stern but sincere expression on her face. "We blame them and work to ensure we are not tricked by their technology again."

“The command decisions were mine. I gave the authorization for the brig visit without insisting on procedure- a proper medical screening to insure that she was not exactly what she turned out to be,” Paris explained, talking with her hands as she did so. “Instead, I let compassion for a perceived victim interfere with my own judgment and I bypassed procedures which, as First officer AND head of Security, are both my responsibilities. In doing so, I endangered you both, my security officers and the lives of everyone aboard this vessel.”

“Had I adhered to protocol, we would now be having a very different conversation, about the brawl that began in the transporter room, or when Dr, Dael discovered the sensor camouflage, or at any number of points where this situation could have been avoided had I obeyed the procedures I myself put in place. So that, Mrs. Dox, is how I failed you,” the old-school officer explained. “Along with inadvertently setting loose a madman on the rest of the universe. But that we will be dealing with later. In the here and now, the health and well-being of the people under my command who have been abused by others is my only concern.”

There was an edge of rawness in the last bit of phrasing and the Commander’s chin dimpled a bit, as it leaked through just how upset she was over this. But she was striving mightily to insure that she remained professional for the sake of the two agents who had been manipulated by the very emotions both struggled to distance themselves from.

"We will learn from this experience. And we'll not be fooled again," the Starfleet siren offered with resolve in her voice. "Miss Az'Prel?"

The Vulcan woman calmed herself with a quick meditation technique before replying. "You are correct. He will not receive a third chance to fool us. Twice now, have I hesitated due to the passions in my Vulcan heart for my daughter. I will not allow that to sway my logic again and I will ensure that we are prepared. Not only is Davo Mudd a threat, but so is his daughter, Cleopatra Mudd."

"I'm a firm believer in redemption, ladies," Paris began, then laid it out there. "But sometimes that has to come after incarceration and rehabilitation. We won't give up on your daughter, nor on capturing Mudd. Now we know who we're dealing with, so next time we'll be prepared. And rest assured, ladies, there will most definitely be a next time." After having said that, the compassionate commander eyed Az'Prel.

"I'm sorry for how this worked out, Az'Prel. I had genuinely hoped that you would be reunited with your daughter, and this mission would chalk up another happy ending." The buxom bombardier sighed, a seismic affair. "That is not to be... for now. But where there's life, there's hope, and that can move mountains. I can't order you talk to anyone about this, but I can strongly advise it. I suspect... given how I would feel had I been through what you have today... that those feelings would not be terribly welcome. With that said, I suggest you go speak to Mr. Sonak, and seek his guidance as a kolinahr master. In times of emotional duress, logic can be a balm to the mind and katra."

Putting a hand gently on Az'Prel's arm, Jaeih added. "Mnhei'sahe also speaks extremely highly of his council. He has helped her endure a great many trials. And, as we have both been reminded often in our time here, we are stronger together."

"I will consider your words, and perhaps I will seek out his counsel in this. He is of a similar mind to that of my old Logician Master." As she spoke, Az'Prel finally released the death grip she had on the cut on her hand. "When she was born, I had named my daughter A'Lon. It is the name I have kept in my heart for her all these years."

Listening, Jaeih pursed her lips for a moment, remembering having had to hide Mnhei'sahe with the human name of 'Melanie' for decades. It was a reminder that while the two women were very different and led vastly different lives, there was a similar flavor to their experiences that made it easy for one to understand the other.

Squeezing the arm of her Vulcan friend just a little harder, Jaeih spoke with both sympathy and resolve. "That is a beautiful name. Since coming to this ship, I have learned that nothing is impossible. If there is any way in any reality for you to be reunited with A'Lon again, know that we will find it together."

"And know that if she is truly lost to Mudd, then together we will mourn for that loss and together, we will find your justice. I swear this to you, my Rinam."

It was a word Rita Paris knew well, as it was one of the only Romulan words she knew by heart. It was the word for 'sister', also given to the golden clad commander by Jaeih's daughter, Mnhei'sahe. It was a word that Rita knew that the Dox women did not give out casually. It was a claiming of family, and an oath they took quite seriously. It warmed her heart to know that in this time of crisis, the elder Dox was determined not to leave her partner alone in this, and that she herself had come so far. From that suspicious and hostile woman who had hoarded secrets and stoically maintained silence, to the woman willing to risk so much for the adopted family she'd found.

"And every resource Starfleet can bring to bear will be used to that end, make no mistake. That concludes this debriefing," Paris announced, fighting with less than stellar success to fight a flood of tears at those declarations. Then rising from the table, the old-fashioned Earth girl walked around to the other side, and slowly enfolded both women into a light hug from behind.

"This isn't part of the official record... but I'm sorry, ladies. You have the room for as long as you need, and the logs after the announced end of the debriefing will be purged." Releasing them both, Paris left the room, to give the two women what she suspected would be some much-needed privacy.

The statuesque Commander left, Jaeih gave her a simple nod and a slight smile. A non-verbal 'thank you' between two women who had come far since their first meeting on Earth so many months ago. Then, the Romulan woman turned to her friend as the door hissed shut as Paris left. "Learning to master your emotions often means confronting them. If you would like to share your thoughts with me, I am here. Even if only to vent."

Rinam was one of the Romulan words that Az'Prel knew deeply, among other familial words. In her universe they had been deeply important to the survivors of Romulus and she did not know if they held the same meaning here, but as Commander Paris had given them that light hug, moisture had built up in her eyes thinking about it and her own family in both this universe and in her old.

As they now had the room to themselves with a promise of privacy, she leaned into her best friend in this universe and let a few hot tears roll down her cheeks as she reached up and rested a hand on Jaeih's. "Thank you, Ko-kai. You give me the strength I am unable to find." Instead of using the Romulan word for sister, she used the Vulcan one, which held just as much meaning to her.

"Then it is yours to have." Jaeih said softly. She had been a staunch supporter of Romulan/Vulcan Reunification and knew the Vulcan language well, having taught it to her own daughter. "I can only imagine the pain you are going through at this moment. It is... what he has done to her is the reason I worked so hard to hide Mnhei'sahe for so many years. But what was done can be undone. And until that day, you will have all the strength I can give."

"You will master your emotions. Of that, I have no doubt. But I will always help you to understand them when they are too much for you." Jaeih said, as she wiped away her friend's tears. "Your emotions exist. And you can always be free to experience them however you need to with me. You do not need to bear this burden alone."

"Thank you, Ko-kai. I have lost my universe, my family, my comrades, my daughter twice..." The Vulcan woman took a deep, rattling breath, her emotional barriers crumbling as the last of her world seemed to fall. "You and the crew here are all I know and you are the only true family I have now. Thank you for being here."

"Kwon-sum." Jaeih said softly, the Vulcan word for 'always' as she leaned in and put her arms around her broken friend and newfound sister.

The shopping promenade of the Artan Family Fortress was unlike anything that Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox had ever seen before. It was not simply massive in scale, but it was jam-packed with a wide array of peoples from every corner of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. It was an extremely busy hub of activity in the center of the orbital station.

Maybe a little too busy for the anxious Romulan pilot's liking.

But she had desperately wanted to get off of the ship and at least try and be by herself for a brief time. Her impending nuptials to her Miradonian bond-mate, Ensign Mona Gonadie, was only days away and she needed to think. And on the Hera, the family she had made there was making thinking and solitude extremely difficult to procure.

But she wasn't in the promenade for just for solitude. She was a woman on a mission. Walking among the crowds, she was out of uniform and off duty. Instead, she wore a pair of black hiking boots, snug black cargo pants, a tight black tank top and her favorite short green denim jacket. Her Starfleet comm badge was affixed to the top, mostly concealed under the jacket as she didn't want to stand out.

But she stood out nonetheless. The red-headed Romulan stood out, not as Starfleet, but as the Baroness, fifth class of the Princess Enalia Telvan. Now the acting Queen of the Artan Pirate family and owner of the mammoth station they were all occupying. So, as she walked, more than a few eyes slid her way which didn't make her any more comfortable.

But she ignored them for the most part, aside from maintaining a general level of alertness, being aware that her status made her something of a target to anyone still loyal to the former Queen Regent, Enalia's mother Arenara Artan. But she knew how to keep her eyes and ears open and had better than decent situational awareness and all seemed fine. So she continued to walk to her destination.

It was a small, cluttered jewelers shop on the lower level the shopping complex ran by an overly talkative humanoid man from a race that the fairly well-traveled Lieutenant didn't recognize. He was a short, slightly older gentleman with shoulder length grayish purple hair. His forehead and face had a radial pattern of plate-like ridges that flowed out from the center of his squat, flat nose. His eyes were deep set and shone like little black marbles behind the thick corrective lenses that were clipped to the ridges above his brow. Along his forehead, additional lenses we're flipped up, also affixed with small brass clips to his ridges in a perfectly useful display for a jeweler.

"Ahhhh, Baroness Dox! Good to see you again!" The rotund, gregarious older man bellowed as he waddled out from behind the counter to offer an overly familiar, four armed hug. Dox had learned on her last visit, a few days earlier, that the man was a hugger from a race of huggers.

"Good morning, Mr. K'Rwan." Dox replied with a slight smile, returning the hug before he released his grip. Two of his arms were placed on his wide hips while he clapped the top two hands together with a grin. "A VERY good morning, Baroness. I have two minor masterpieces for you, my dear. Come. Come, see. I am quite proud of these."

He waved her to his counter, covered in various bits and baubles of junk that he swept aside as he squeezed back behind it. "This was no easy task, but for you, I put in the extra effort. And they are magnificent, I think you'll agree. You helped out Princess reclaim her throne. That makes you something of a hero around here, I'm not too shy of saying."

Shortly after the Tribunal was finished and the crew was allowed some personal time, Dox had sought out a shop here that could do what she wanted done. She had considered using the ship's replicators to create what she wanted, but it seemed impersonal, somehow. And upon finding K’Rwan’s shop and seeing the wall and counters filled with hand-made creations of beautiful jewelery, Dox knew this was the way to go.

As she blushed a deep green at the praise she didn't feel she deserved, the purple-skinned older man reached down below his counter with a low grunt, a minor effort considering his girth, and came back up with a small wooden box. “Here we go. I think you’ll like these. Your ideas were exceptional and gave me a lot to work with.” As he spoke, he slowly lifted the lid back on it’s old, creaky hinges to reveal a velvet lined interior and two matching bracelets. “Not exactly traditional Romulan marriage bracelets, but you’re hardly a standard young Romulan, eh Baroness. I mean, you’re not dressed like my nana's couch cushions got mad at me, so there’s that, eh?”

Looking in the box, Dox’s lips tightened into a smile and her eyes went just a little wide. Sitting on the soft velvet pad inside were two bracelets. Each made of pearlescent black metal formed into two rings that linked with swirls at the ends. Gasping slightly, Dox’s eyes looked misty. “They’re… they’re perfect, sir.”

Gently, the skilled jeweler lifted the bracelets out of the box for the young woman to inspect. “Made to your specifications. Forged using the piece of metal from your ships hull you provided. In the center, the clear crystal wrapped braid you gave me. And the inscription on the insides should be correct. I can’t pronounce the Romulan, though. Please… let me know if everything is correct, Baroness.”

Taking the bracelets, Dox had a broad smile across her chubby cheeks as she inspected them. In the center of both, a multi-colored braid visible through a thin strip of clear crystal surrounded by the shimmering metal bands. Inside the crystal in each was a length of one of Mona Gonadie's brilliantly colored feathers. The purples, greens, and golds of the tailfeather her bond-mate gave her without question was delicately braided with a length of Dox’s own thick, auburn red hair. It was a tight braid showing the colors all blending together in a rainbow as one.

Looking at the insides of the bracelets, in each was engraved a phrase in Dox’s native Rihan that read. ’Dhael nnew nveiss Aen.’ Directly, it translated to say ‘Birds of same wing’, which was the closest translation to the old earth phrase, ‘Birds of a feather’.

Romulan ceremonial bracelets were a centuries-old tradition, analogous to the wedding rings of Earth culture, and something Dox desperately wanted to get right after her best friend, Doctor Asa Dael, suggested using one of Mona’s feathers. It was a brilliant Idea and she couldn’t wait to show Asa the result before the ceremony. After all, she was going to ask Asa to present one and the woman Dox had chosen as her sister, Rita Paris, to present the other during the ceremony. These were the most important people in her life and they needed to play an important part in this event.

With a slight tear glistening in her eye, she smiled over at the skilled artist that brought her idea to brilliant life. “Oh… I don’t have words. They’re perfect. They’re beautiful. Khlinae arhem… Thank you.”

The pieces had been paid for in advance with Dox’s own, personal account that she had kept from her own years as a smuggler. Credits and latinum set aside for just such an occasion. But the master jeweler didn’t seem to care as he smiled back. “My dear, you are very welcome. I am honored that a Baroness of our Princess… correction… our Queen… would have chosen me for such a task. I’m happy they make you happy and hope they will go over on the big day.”

Smiling like a child, Dox nodded. “I think she’ll love it. I can’t thank you enough.”

The stout man smiled back broadly. "You're happiness is thanks enough, Baroness." And after a few moments to repack them and place the box in a small bag, the two exchanged hugs and Dox made her way back out into the promenade, her prize in hand.

In the short time that she had been on the Hera, the emotionally charged young Romulan woman could hardly believe how much her life had changed. In a million years, she didn't think she would ever even have friends, let alone the family she now had. And she couldn't have even imagined finding someone like Mona Gonadie.

She stood for a moment among the throngs of passersby and closed her eyes. As she did, she thought of Mona with her hand in the box, holding on to the bracelets. In her mind's eye, she could see that purple glow return. That glow that was the fusion of her own energy with that of Mona's. Swirling together, her own red light mixed with Mona's brilliant blue to create something greater than what she was. And that light would be a part of her forever.

That piece of her bond-mate in her soul, forever entwined together

While she had her own perfectly good office up on Deck 2, Commander Rita Paris had a habit of hanging out in the chief flight control officer's office. Partially for the magnificent view that it offered of the flight deck and the incoming and outgoing traffic that was quite impressive when the USS Hera was in port, as she was at the moment. Docked at the Artan family orbital fortress while her mistress and commander Captain Enalia Telvan dealt with family business, it was a time like most others- either leading up to or coming down from some sort of excitement. It was the pattern of life in Starfleet, and there were a great many constants involved that paid no heed to such missions and adventures.

Onboardings were one of those constants, and thus, 04:23 hours saw the ship's First Officer savoring an early morning cup of coffee as she watched the transport shuttle winging its way in. At warp five that trip form Starbase DS-72 would have been a long and likely uncomfortable trip for Ensign... Varnok Jahal, a... what was a Cardassian, they sounded familiar...

As Paris brushed up on the Cardassian involvement with Bajor and the Dominion War on Fedepedia, she finished her coffee and strode out onto the flight deck, PaDD in hand as she confidently strode toward landing pad number 9.

As the shuttle started landing procedures, Varnok gathered his few belongings anxious to stretch his legs. Nervous excitement started to creep up his spine as he wondered about the new assignment, and where it would take him. The shuttle landed with a muffled thud on the flightdeck and Varnok stood as tall as he could in the cramped craft, gathered his thoughts and straightened the grey tunic of his Starfleet Intelligence uniform. After a moment the rear hatch descended to the deck of Landing Pad 9 as he stepped into the opening and addressed the Officer awaiting his arrival.

“Ensign Varnok reporting for duty. Permission to come aboard.”

Before him stood... an anachronism, but one rife with curious modern inaccuracies.

The uniform was reminiscent of the period of the five-year missions when the tricolor uniforms held sway for a good decade. Amongst the various fashion flubs and faux pas of the mid-twenty-third century, this one was only known to history because of the missions of Pike and Decker, of Tracey and of course, Kirk and Spock. The uniforms were synonymous with the five-year missions of exploration that established so much of the alpha and beta quadrants.

But the black hosiery was absent, replaced by solid black leggings. The knee-high boots were there- with an 8 mm heel and a 2 mm platform, he noted, wondering if those were actually regulation, but they did make the tall woman even taller- she nearly looked him in the eye. On the loose angular black collar were three gold pips, which he noted, if he recalled his Starfleet history correctly, would correspond to the two solid banded braids that encircled the wrist of the gold uniform. Ideally, that denoted Security or Engineering, but in the era of the uniform itself, gold was the color of the command track.

The uniform clung to significant curves, that were displayed but not aggressively so- more of a fact of life. The short, functional haircut was another indication that she wasn't compensating for anything in regards to her femininity- rather, she cared more for form to follow function. The woman's casual pose belied her internal process as she displayed a sardonic smile and nodded at the new officer.

"It used to involve coming to attention and saluting back in my day," the old-fashioned officer observed. "But times change, right? At least you know protocol, so that's half a positive. Mister Varnok, I'm Rita Paris, first officer of the Hera. So what do you say, let's see your orders, shall we?"

He was still standing at the bottom of the gangplank of the shuttle, where she'd stepped up to meet him and apparently wasn't planning to let him pass just yet.

“Aye Commander Paris.” he replied coming to attention and handing her the PaDD with his transfer orders from Starfleet Intelligence. The observant Ensign was intrigued by her unusual uniform and awaited further review.

Reviewing the orders, Paris nodded in agreement to them, handing back the PaDD. Stepping to the side, she inclined her head slightly to the large pressure doors at the exit from the flight deck that entered into the starship proper. "All right, Ensign, permission granted. Let's walk and talk, shall we?"

Without awaiting a reply, Paris turned and was moving at something of a march, talking over her shoulder, apparently expecting the Intelligence officer to be there. "So why intelligence, Mister Varnok, I am curious."

With his bag slung neatly over his shoulder he kept pace with his Commanding officer. “I like solving puzzles. When I first entered the Academy, my focus was Science- thinking I would follow in my parents' footsteps as an Environmental Scientist. My instructors quickly determined, however, my skills with focus and memory would be better suited elsewhere. After some consideration, I found I agreed. Some view Intelligence work as living in the shadows. I view it as pulling the truth from the shadows. “

"Wringing truth from falsehoods and deceptions. An interesting perspective, Mr. Varnok. There aren't many Cardassians in Starfleet- why do you suppose that is so, Ensign?" The question was open to interpretation, as the era from which the Commander was apparently attempting to emulate with her uniform choice was one of markedly humancentric attitudes within Starfleet.

“In my experience, most Cardassians are xenophobic and single-minded in their advancement of Cardassia. That leads to a narrow view of other worlds, that Starfleet and I do not share. When I petitioned for entrance to the Academy, I knew I would have to prove myself, as my predecessors had. Starfleet represented reason and sanity to me, during and after the Dominion War.” Varnok briefly scanned Commander Paris’ face for signs of objection, but there was none. It seemed she'd asked the question for his answer, not fishing for an answer she expected.

"Well, we do strive for reason and sanity in our explorations. So what do you know about your current assignment, Ensign?" The curvaceous commander stopped at a turbolift, pressing the button as she conversed. As they waited for the turbolift, the Cardassian Ensign answered somewhat matter of factly.

“To be honest, Commander, very little. I was not even told the name of the ship I was assigned to until I was on route.”

"Then what have you gleaned thus far?" Paris asked as the turbolift arrived and they stepped aboard. "Deck Two."

Smiling slightly, Varnok turned to Commander Paris.”On my last posting on the Varyss I heard rumors, whispers of the Hera." The turbolift ride was short for only two decks, and as the door opened, he didn't have to offer, she strode out of the lift in the lead. "In my line of work, rumors and whispers are pieces of the puzzle to be solved. There was nothing I was able to substantiate, as the ship does not seem to officially exist, or at least as far as my clearance level was concerned. Several of the rumors mentioned that the Hera might have some connection with deep space pirate factions. Considering where we are currently docked, that offers some degree of corroboration.”

Smiling broader he continued “I am very intrigued by your uniform, it is not quite regulation for this time. The pips and braids indicate command, but the color indicates security or engineering. Do you perform multiple duties on board other than First Officer?"

"You tell me, Mister Varnok. You see, that's what intelligence is all about, is it not? Gleaning the facts from the evidence at hand?" The commander stopped before the door where the LCD display declared it to be: CDR Paris, R First Officer

"So tell me what you've learned, Ensign." Placing her palm to the panel, the door lock cycled open and the curious commander stepped inside.

The sight that awaited them inside was a conference room that had been converted into an office. Except that it looked like no modern construction nor furniture, but all throwback antique furniture from the previous century. A large 4-meter triangular table sat off to port, with three plastic chairs gathered about the outside, each sporting mushroom bases and pleather pads. Another of the same style chairs was parked at the point that was clearly the seat behind the desk, the other two facing the broad flat edge of the triangle.

The surface of the desk was cluttered with piles of PaDDs with flimsiness jutting out from between, on top of, below and all over the desk like oil in strata. There were also a few models of ancient starships on the desk, of the Columbia and the Phoenix, of the Eagle and Vostok 6. All of who apparently lived in fear of demolition by a PaDD avalanche. Additionally, there were more than a couple of alien artifacts of some sort or another stacked on the desktop, with tags on them but still clearly between destinations.

There was nowhere in Starfleet in which this compartment could pass inspection.

On the walls were various bookshelves covered with actual books and bric-a-brac interspersed with pictures and images as well as awards and honors. One entire shelf held a collection of children's toys that were a uniform greenish-yellow color. There were a number of images featuring a somber Vulcan in science blue, the Commander and a handsome dashing fellow in command gold and a complex pattern of ribbons on his sleeve that probably made him the captain, given the ones on Rita's sleeves.

Images of the trio on what looked like a sailboat during a breathtaking sunset, the trio on the bridge, each flanking that handsome fellow in the center chair. The three of them in the odd formal uniforms of the period at what looked like a trial. A photo of a young man who looked like he could be her brother, with the same blonde hair and bright blue eyes as the human girl, but with a smug smile that gave the impression that he might just be a jackass. Just over her shoulder was a picture of a modern crew, with the Commander in the mix. And directly behind the desk was the autographed image of Admiral Jonathan Archer himself, smiling benignly.

On a shelf to her right as she took her seat, were a number of action figures, all of whom appeared to be her in various alternate uniforms, although there were a few others scattered amongst the sea of small-scale Starfleet sirens. To her left was a viewport that looked out at the front of the starship. Which was not much of a view when the Hera in port, as she was currently. Gesturing for him to have a seat in one of the not-terribly-comfortable-looking retro chairs, the Commander finished her point.

"You've had time for a lengthy visual inspection of the outer hull on your way in- certainly enough time at that speed. You know where we're docked and you've had a chance to hazard a guess. You've seen the rather large and active flight deck and a bit of the corridors of the ship. You've been in my company for at least four minutes, so you should have a reasonably extensive psych profile or at least a good cold read of me. The Intelligence field is not unlike science, is it not? Focus and memory you mentioned as your calling cards, as I recall."

"But to be a proper detective you must observe, analyze and deduce."

"So demonstrate. Impress me."

"Instead of me telling you about my uniform, why don't you tell me about it?" The cheerful commander crossed her legs at the knees in a practiced scissored movement and steepled her fingers before her, eyebrows up and an angelically patient expression radiating beatifically from her face. A pretty face she was, but a dumb blonde she most certainly was not.

Sitting in the chair Commander Paris had offered, Jarnok smiled broadly and sincerely back at the cool, collected blonde. "To elaborate on what we discussed earlier, the rumors of a pirate connection to the Hera seem to be substantiated as we are currently docked at… I believe… the Artan orbital fortress."

"On my shuttles approach, I was able to see the Hera's beautiful pearlescent black finish that appears to be some kind of stealth paneling, which is not common even for an intelligence ship." The Ensign continued.

"Now, concerning my questions regarding your uniform, what I have inferred from our brief time together is that while your uniform has certain modern concessions such as rank pips and a comm badge rather than a patch, the rest harkens back to a style most commonly seen in…" Varnok paused to think for a second, "...the 2260's I believe."

"Beyond your uniform, the way you have inhabited and curated your office space would lead me to believe that you were once a part of that era."

"While it is not impossible that there could be other reasons for this, the raw number of anachronistic elements and the fact that Starfleet history is filled with instances of people moving from one era to another, it is not outside the realm of possibility that you are, in fact, from a different era entirely." The Cardassian Intel officer concluded.

"Concluding that you are from that era, your behavioral patterns, such as referring to 'your day', wearing lifts to appear taller, and stepping up to meet me on the ramp of the shuttle in an authoritative way, could be interpreted as someone who has had to deal with a decidedly more misogynistic command structure than is prevalent in modern Starfleet. An attitude I assure you I do not share."

Adding a small personal detail, he continued. "In Cardassian culture, gender is regarded equally. My own Mother outranked my Father."

"To conclude, in observance of your desk, I would venture to say that you are very work focused as evidenced by the piles of PaDD's" he said, gesturing to Paris' desk. "And the raw amount of work does suggest that you serve in more than one capacity on this ship." Varnok stopped speaking and sat respectfully to wait for his new Commander's response.

As he had been speaking, she’d been a sphinx- not a trace of emotion, no sign that he was doing well or poorly. She dropped away all emotion as if she were a Vulcan; face neutral and impassive, body language betraying no clues. But as he finished, a broad smile spread across the face of the Starfleet siren. The smile was a genuine one, not meant to light up a room, then she inclined her head toward him at a slight angle before politely clapping.

“Very well done, Mr. Varnok. Observe, analyze and deduce are clearly watchwords you can adhere to, and you have a flair for accomplishing it. You notice and note the nuances, you understand to look for the underlying motivations and reach for the conclusions they lead you to, however illogical that may appear. I suspect you will have the capacity to do well here if you can perform consistently in that manner.” Pausing to consider, Paris leaned forward, clasping her hands before her on the cluttered desk.

“As a confession of my own- I am not a speciesist, nor am I sexist. I am also blissfully unaware of a considerable chunk of the last century or so of history, and I carry none of the prejudices which those who fought against others may choose to carry. I fought Klingons and Romulans across the galaxy in my day; yet now, I have both serving within the command,” the ancient astronaut gestured broadly in an encompassing expression.

“In truth, those officers are amongst some of our finest of our crew. Two hundred and forty-five years ago, Jonathan Archer shoved off from Earth to the stars with 2 aliens from other worlds on the crew of his starship. Today I'm one of 32 humanoids classified as human, and 2 of them are from Earth," the old-fashioned officer chuckled. "I'm in the minority on a Starfleet vessel. That dream of inclusiveness really came true, and humanity proved the be the melting pot for all of those other cultures. The Earth and our message of peace was meant to spread and it did, and we created a galactic society with true equality of the species. As did gender equality and expression, or lack thereof..." The cagey commander trailed off at that before refocusing.

"At least, for the most part."

"I want to make it clear to you, Ensign Varnok, that whatever prejudice you may have faced in getting here, on this starship you will be judged by your words, your deeds, your actions... and your devotion to duty. That’s how Captain Telven runs the ship, and that’s serving in Starfleet works on this ship." Leaning back in her chair again, the first officer adopted a casual breezy tone. "I don’t expect you to take my word for it, though- I’ll be interested in hearing your perspective on it after you’ve had a while to settle in. I'll be expecting Intel briefings, and when something needs the captain's attention, bring it to me if you aren't certain or it isn't her eyes only, and I will always help you plot a course.” The cheerful commander raised her eyebrows, then her smile settled into a prim expression of bemusement.

“So, give and take being what it is, have you any questions for me, Mr. Varnok?” While it might be a trap, it seemed that despite her evasiveness in some instances, the woman was rather forthright. Thus far, he’d yet to detect a shred of falsehood in anything she said. Either she was honest, a magnificent liar, or she believed strongly in what she was saying. "I am officially the first crew member you've met so far, so now's the time, ask away. Uh, I got here through a transporter accident in a splinter timeline that doesn't exist anymore in a desperate gamble from a brilliant mind. They reconstituted me here, and here I've stayed."

Reaching over, Paris ran her hand along the pale blue bulkhead. "The Hera saved my life, and I've served her ever since." Turning to look at the onboarding officer, Rita Paris brushed the hair of her somewhat short but rakishly untidy haircut out of her face, in a practiced gesture. "That's usually the first question. Oh, and the female officers asking if they have to wear this uniform," The easygoing executive volunteered with a laugh.

"All right, you ask and I'll ask. Twenty questions is a good game for an intelligence analyst to play to get to know someone, right? Okay, question one, yours. Go."

"Thank you. I was understandably curious as to how you arrived in this time, although I do have another question that has been weighing on my mind, which I wish to ask first. How did I get assigned to the Hera? I was resigned to the idea that I would be spending the rest of my career on the Varyss," Varnok sighed.

His last post had been tedious at best. Captain Bormir was a veteran of the wars with Cardassia and as much as Jarnok's skills had helped him excel at the academy and the Captain considered him a feather in his hat of the Varyss, never once did Bormir let Jarnok forget that he was Cardassian.

As much as he tried to earn the Captain's respect and, dare he say, friendship, in the many long years he had served on the Varyss, he only really had one true friend.

Carnac was one of the ship's Klingon security guards, and they had both started in the Academy together. Worlds away from their respective homes, with unusual ideas for their respective races, eventually they clung together in friendship, both eventually being assigned to the Varyss.

He sighed deeper, missing his friend. Turning his mind outward again, he prepared himself for his new Commander's response. He liked her straightforwardness and her analytical questions and the smile his observational skills told him was genuine. He decided that he liked her, and was looking forward to this new assignment. Maybe, just maybe, he had found a kindred spirit, one step to the left of the universe.

"You, Mister Varnok, found a way to communicate with a technological entity by discovering and learning it's language, which was algebraically based, if I read the report correctly. I'm not much of a scientist- I just know a lot of very smart people," the first officer freely admitted. "You were in four altercations in the Academy that went on record. You've been in seven on your first assignment. Reported," Paris intoned again, clearly implying that she knew plenty of skirmishes had gone unrecorded. "Two sexual harassment charges. You have been cleared of every incident because you were attacked and defended yourself, but never with violence. The attacking party walked away from the encounter each time."

"You, Mister Varnok, were Valedictorian in your class at the Academy solely on drive and achievement, and there were hecklers as you gave your commencement address. You pressed on, didn't take the bait, and walked away. When you joined the USS Varyss, every quarterly departmental report showed a marked improvement in efficiency and output, both of which were average before that. Yet after more than a year in service, with average evaluations- which seems curious as they are only average because they cite 'disciplinary problems', all of which you were exonerated. Because of those facts, you have not been promoted." Paris looked over the desk at the Cardassian with those big blue eyes and shook her head, a frown on that pretty face.

"You've deserved better all your career, Ensign Varnok. Starfleet should have been better to you, and it hasn't. You are motivated, driven and you can't catch a break worth a damn." The Starfleet recruitment poster model for 2257 tilted her chin up at the intelligence analyst, and told him the truth. "I look for the misfits. The square pegs trapped in the round holes. The ops tech who'd make a brilliant engineer. The shy pilot who could be great if she'd come out of her shell. The class clown who's actually an amazing doctor. The intelligence officer who is a victim of racism."

"Racism. In the near 25th century. I cannot believe it, I will not stand for it, and I'll have none of it. I requested you, and the transfer paperwork was on my PaDD before I put it down. I didn't even know what a Cardassian is, I looked it up while I was meeting your shuttle. For all I knew you were a gelatinous tentacle monster. But you," Paris pointed at the Cardassian ensign, "the officer, that brain of yours, the guy who joined Starfleet to get a fair shake- you are the officer I wanted."

"You've time in rate, and I'll take my own evaluations," When she spoke like that it was actually easy to picture the throwback officer back in the days of the space cowboys roaming the galaxy. "Once you're checked into the command, your first priority is to test for Lieutenant Junior Grade, on my orders. Understood?"

"Aye, Commander. I will endeavor to prove myself worthy." The Cardassian transfer officer replied.

"Good. That was my question. Your turn," The commander offered. "Water? Coffee? Help yourself, if you are getting dry mouth. No matter how much I try to make this a relaxed interview, it's still a stressful experience for you. I get that." Tapping a disc on her desk, a cup slowly replicated itself, bearing the logo and line art of the USS Hera NCC 79010. Once it was built, the cup then slowly filled with coffee.

"Thank you, Commander." Quickly, he went to the replicator for a Ginger Tea before returning to his seat to continue. Taking a deep draw off of the warm, spicy liquid and gathering his thoughts, he put his cup down and replied, "So, why exactly is the Hera docked at a pirate way station?"

"Funny story. Captain Telvan was once Enalia Artan, heir to the matriarchal throne of the Artan pirate family, a fleet of interstellar privateers- they hunt pirates and slavers, making most of their way fighting the Orion syndicate. Her mother, the Queen regent, recently retired, and the Captain is filling out paperwork, assigning duties and generally recreating her family business to make it a better force in the galaxy. I'll let you read the reports." The buxom blonde picked up her slowly replicated coffee cup and took a sip, with a smile spreading in its wake. "Wedding present from the chief engineer. It's a slow cup of coffee, but worth the wait. And charming, I think."

Raising her coffee mug to the Intelligence officer, Paris asked her question, in a surprisingly blunt maneuver. "I read that the Dominion savaged your home planet. Do you hold a grudge?"

Varnok sat for a moment, looked at his cup and considered his words before he replied. "I did once... you see Commander, I was 15 when my parents were killed in the war. I blamed the Dominion, I blamed my parents... and mostly, I blamed myself." The Cardassian Ensign had a faraway look as if remembering a dream.

"The Dominion was at the top of that list, for it was their fault, their choices in my young mind as to who started that war. As I grew older, I blamed my parents, for not leaving Cardassia when we entered the treaty with the Dominion. And now, in the end, I blame myself, for not being old enough, clever enough or strong enough to save them all.”

"So no, I do not hold a grudge. I have dedicated my life to solving the puzzles put before me. Because soldiers win wars. Diplomats can end them. But Intelligence can prevent them... if applied correctly."

"That's a hard life, Ensign. I must say, I respect the resolve that came of it. I'm sure lesser men would become embittered and selfish, but you chose service." Offering a nod, the human girl from a long time ago, who relied on her guts and intuition to guide her through the universe, brought her explanation full circle. "There's an expression in the Paris family, that in a crisis, you'll see the true character of a man. When you see that face, believe it."

"You," the idealistic graduate of Starfleet Academy, class of 2255 wagged a finger at the Cardassian officer in the charcoal grey uniform. "You lived through those times, and chose to let it drive you to spend your life outsmarting those who would oppress and disrupt, within a stricture of just and fair intergalactic law."

"Someone who sees that and chooses a better way? Is someone who'll fit in just fine here on the Hera. Your question," Paris took a sip of coffee as she handed it back off to the intelligence agent. She was enjoying the exchange, they were both being honest with one another unless he was an amazing liar, which she couldn't tell but Cardassians were very oath oriented, she thought she'd read? Eh, seventeen questions to go, I should ask for a summary of their society from the native...

Looking directly at his new commanding officer and taking another sip of the spicy warm brew, he posed the question. “What exactly is the Hera’s mission and purpose? In my experience, it is quite unusual to have a ship so completely devoid of record in Starfleet. Even our covert operations ships we tend to keep track of- but not this one.”

Quickly Varnok was finding the sharp mind and direct questions of this intriguing blonde woman quite engaging. It pleased him that she saw past all of the false accusations, and it gave him a sense of pride that he had not felt in years, to be judged on one's merits and chosen for them. If she was the first officer, he could only imagine what the rest of the crew would be like. The thoughts of joining this ship swirled like a tornado he had once seen on Earth. This was turning into a grand adventure after all.

"We're the starship they call in because the situation is too unrealistic for most vessels to comprehend, or we're called in to make a precise strike. That all sounds very recruitment poster gung ho, so I'll break it down," Paris admitted, then gestured somewhere out the front viewport. "We have a Commodore out there with a penchant for finding trouble and a knack for getting to the heart of it. She investigates, figures out what's wrong, and we're the cavalry she calls. Mad gods, extradimensional beings, ancient summoning rituals, abandoned basis with relevant data... one never knows."

"Suffice to say, not a lot of first contacts nor diplomatic missions would be a safe assessment of our assignments. Again, I'll let you read the reports. You already got a significant clearance being assigned to the Hera. So nothing is off-limits, you can read about any of our past missions and our personnel files are all available for you as well." The fulsome first officer paused to consider, then went for a standard. "Aside from xenophobia in others, what's your greatest weakness, Mr. Varnok? And we can come back to that one if you need to- some need a moment with that one."

“Commander Paris," Varnok stated earnestly, "we all have weaknesses. Sometimes they have yet to reveal themselves. This is a question that does not deserve a quick and glib answer. I could say I have no weaknesses, but that would be a lie. I find concentrating on my strengths more worthwhile than dwelling on my weaknesses." The Cardassian hoped the commanding officer would understand his point of view. “I will need time to consider the question further, to give a proper answer.”

"Entirely fair. It's a trap question, really- if you have a quick answer then that usually means you are giving a prepared answer, or you haven't thought it through. One of my favorites was 'I've heard it said that I can be... aloof. At the Academy, I went out of my way to avoid unnecessary social interaction. I suppose some people could see that as a weakness, Sir.' Far and away the most arrogant answer I'd ever heard. It did certainly speak volumes about the officer, though." Paris looked off into the distance for a few seconds, lost in contemplation before she refocused on the officer in the here and now who was getting his first feel of his new assignment.

"Your question, I believe?"

Glancing over at the row of pictures Varnok cocked his head slightly, "Do you miss these people that are in the pictures with you? You seemed quite close."

"Captain Michael Stuart, commander of the USS Exeter, 2268." The officer of another era chucked her thumb at the handsome young man in the captain's chair. "Ronald Tracey went nuts and got tied up with the Talosians as well as the Omegans. Got most of the crew killed, but Stuart was the chief engineer, and led a mutiny. Captured Tracey and brought her home, and was given a few jumps in rank and command of the vessel. I was part of the 'clean sweep' of crew as chief navigator, and we boldly went from there. He was a good man- impetuous, rash and not the best starship commander nor leader of men, and he did have a fine Irish temper. But he had a good and noble heart... and yes, I miss him a bit. Like you miss all old friends, no?"

"Mister Sonak was quite simply the best man I ever met. We were on a mission to Ajilon Prime, evacuating the science colony there when the transporter malfunctioned, and he gambled with the universe. I ended up here, one dimension over and a century and change away. I don't miss him, though," Paris offered with a smile that was wide, genuine and happy. "We managed to send him my coordinates, and he came after me. Took some time on Vulcan to establish his bonafides, then took a year at the Academy to brush up on what he'd missed, and got himself assigned to the Hera... a month after I'd arrived here. He's the chief science officer now, and my husband."

"The rest... some I miss, some I keep the images around to remind myself. And that one," She chucked a thumb to the sad-eyed admiral in a uniform even older than her own. "He reminds me to uphold the principles of Starfleet, to remember where I came from and be open to new experiences, new cultures and to boldly go. I met him when I was eight years old, and he was a very old man by then. But he still shook my hand, and when I told him I wanted to frow up to be a starship captain, he signed it 'to Captain Rita Paris, Admiral Jonathan Archer. A great explorer, and a great man."

When she spoke of the founder of Starfleet, she spoke with a reverence that was because it was expected or a matter of decorum, but instead, it was an honest and genuine respect for the great pioneer that had preceded her into space, laying the foundation for her life amongst the stars in Starfleet.

"How about you, Mr. Varnok?" Paris returned the question in kind. "Anyone special out there in your past that you miss?"

Varnok smiled slightly, thinking back on his academy days and then he time served on the Varyss. He was painfully aware that he was completely alone in this new venture.

"I miss my friend, Carnac. He's a Klingon that I came up in the Academy with. Since I was Cardassian and he Klingon, people tended to mistrust me, and were afraid if him. So we gravitated to each other- first out of need, and then friendship."

"We were both eventually assigned to the Varyss with Carnac going into security and me into Intel. I do hope we will meet again and now that I am no longer on the ship, he can excel further, no longer feeling the need to step in on my behalf and deal with those repercussions."

The stoic Ensign then resolved to himself, this was a new start. In light of what this new Commander had expressed. he was going to strive to excel as never before. He couldn't believe he was being so open with her. She did have a way about her, though. He found it almost cathartic to talk to someone who seemed sincerely interested.

Shifting in his seat to a more comfortable position, the Intelligence Officer shook off some of the encroaching melancholy and continued. "And I do miss my parents. I would like to think they would be proud of the man I've become." He stated wistfully. "Though if they were still here, my life may have taken on a whole different direction."

"Parents can be hard to please- after all, they usually have the idea to mold their children in their own image. Which could be good or bad, I suppose. But in the here and now, you're just making yourself proud." Pausing, the mod mini-dressed mariner of the stars cocked her head curiously, and her eyes narrowed. There were a few long seconds where she seemed to consider her actions, then she said, rather quietly, "You've led a very lonely life, haven't you, Mr. Varnok? Not another question, just a realization."

'‘I apologize if I said too much Commander, I do not usually share this much about myself.” the Ensign stated. Varnok looked slightly uncomfortable as he continued. “I hope I have answered any questions you had and I have not changed your mind regarding my assignment to the ship.” The Cardassian's stomach growled slightly, he hoped he would be allowed to his quarters soon he had not eaten since he left the Varyss.

"You haven't said too much, nor anything you should regret, Ensign," the curvaceous commander reassured him. "Rather, I apologize for my last comment- as insights go, perhaps not one to make in an initial meeting. I have nothing but confidence for you in this assignment, Mister Varnok, and I am certain that you'll do well on the Hera.

"For now," she chose a PaDD from her desk, inspected in, put it down and selected another, then another before she had the one she apparently wished to hand over, which she then did. As she expertly flipped it around, it was clear that Commander Paris spent a considerable amount of time with one in her hand, as well as delivering them to others.

"Here's your welcome aboard package, including your quarters assignment, maps of the Hera, limited computer access and some appointments to keep. You need to check into the command in order to have full access, so that means a meeting with the first officer, a meeting with the Captain, a meeting with your department head, a physical, and a session with the ship's counselor. Once everyone signs off, you'll be checked into the command, and be granted full access for active duty. Would you like me to show you to your quarters, or would you prefer to fins your way there yourself?" There was no guile, no undercurrent of this being a test somehow- but then, he realized none of this had felt like a test so much as a discussion.

Taking a moment, Varnok looked over the PaDD in his hand, contemplating the decision. Looking up, he gave his new Commander a genuine smile, perhaps hard won, and replied. "While I am sure I could find my way, I think I would… appreciate for you to show me. Thank you."

He had locked up only moments ago, but realizing that it was a pattern that had been a part of the loneliness Rita Paris had picked up on, the Cardassian Ensign was committed to being better and giving this new ship and her crew the opportunity to surprise him.

Personal log, Stardate 2396.6.24. Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox.

In a few days from now, I'm getting married.

Married. Me. I'm still having difficulty processing that concept. I have been on the U.S.S. Hera just nine months and in that time, I've almost lost track of how much this ship and my time here has transformed me.

When I think about Mona... Ensign Gonadie... I can hardly imagine living life without her. I was attracted to her from the moment I met her for my flight simulation test in the Flight Control Office with her and Rita. Of course, I was a nervous, stuttering wreck and felt like I was going to throw up most of that day anyway, and I buried my feelings to the best of my ability. Relationships were something that I convinced myself were... for other people. Better people. Not broken, fat little Romulan girls.

But something happened over those months that somehow feel like a lifetime and not just a little less than a year. I started changing. Becoming more comfortable. More at home here. I started to feel like you were supposed to in Starfleet, but never had before. Like a part of something bigger.

A lot of that was Rita, of course. A lot of everything is Rita. She believed in me when I couldn't explain why and still don't really understand. And, ironically, a lot of that was having a god go rifling through my head, digging up parts of myself that I chose to forget. To protect myself from my memories.

But I can't do that anymore. Not if I want to be the kind of woman that actually deserves to be bonded to Mona Gonadie. And she deserves so much more than I can give her. She is a literal light in my darkness and I'm still terrified that I'll pull her down with me. But I have to try and stop thinking like that. I have to be better than I was. I have to.

And I suppose that's something to work for. Her. I mean, it's good to want to be better for yourself, but it's not always as easy to stay motivated for that. It's easy to fall back into old habits. Drinking... hurting myself... and worse. Things I don't want to do anymore. Things I don't want to think about anymore. That's a person I don't want to be anymore. But I have Mona. And for Mona, I need to be better. I will be. It's difficult to trust that she won't go away, but even I can't deny it.

She's literally a part of me now. And in a few days, that will be official.

Having reviewed the options, Commander Rita Paris had a wealth of people to talk to when she had a problem. Asa Dael was the ship’s physician and counselor, which was a rare state of affairs on modern starships. But back in her day, the ship’s surgeon was also the ship’s counselor, so that wasn’t much of a stretch. But the young immortal was very busy these days, and Rita didn’t want to bother them.

Of course there was the captain, who would always make time and lend her an ear, but as this so directly impacted her, Rita didn’t think this was something to bring to her. Besides, they had discussed it, and Rita knew Enalia’s mind on the matter. Thus her guilt would only serve to undermine that relationship, which was inherently counterproductive.

While he knew her mind and no one cared for her more, Sonak often broke problems down logically, which worked well, save when the problem was an emotional one. His grasp of human nature and the way emotions affected people were very impressive, and he knew Rita like no one else ever could. But in this case, this was not something she wanted to necessarily discuss with her logical spouse.

While Dox, Thex and the rest of the senior staff were all close, somehow Rita could not bring herself to burden them with her problems. While none of them viewed her as an invulnerable trio of pips in a miniskirt, and had seen plenty of her all-too-human foibles, this wasn’t an issue she was comfortable burdening them with either. This was not entirely a personal problem, after all, and she could inadvertently undermine them as well if she were to share her thoughts and feelings on the matter.

Which left the ancient astronaut one rather unlikely shoulder to lean on… but then, somehow it seemed to be the right answer. Which is how she found herself at the door to Hera’s VIP guest quarters. After identifying herself to the honor guard, Paris entered and waited in the foyer as she announced herself.

“Hera? It’s Rita. Do you have a moment to talk…?”

Dozing lightly on her fainting couch, the ancient goddess had dropped her glamour and now appeared before Rita as the old woman that she was. If she were human she would likely be nearing 100, but being Ambrosian... Hearing Rita's voice, she awoke with a slight start and her semi-mature looks returned, fading in around her as her mental faculties returned with a yawn.

"Oh! Rita, my dear. It seems you caught me napping," Hera smiled brightly as she leaned over to pick up her book off of the floor and gently set it on the table next to her. "Please, tell me what I may do for you?"

“Are… are you alright…?” Rita asked cautiously. She’d never seen Hera look that old before, even when she was at death’s door, so she was immediately concerned. Plus she was napping more lately, which was also worrisome to the old-school officer. Hera was quite the mystery unto herself, but it was starting to look as though being on her namesake starship was taking a toll on the goddess. Now Rita had a dozen questions, none of which had anything to do with what had brought her to see the woman.

"Oh yes, perfectly fine. I'm just starting to feel my age, is all," Hera replied, waving her friend's concern off. "After all, I'm... I'm..." She took a moment to do some counting on her fingers. "Well... At least nine thousand cycles old now."

"But you didn't come here to ask a lady her age, now did you?" The matronly goddess had a twinkle in her eye as she got up and headed for the small dining table, which had a glass domed platter full of goodies that Hera had made herself in the small kitchenette as well as a wine bottle and several handmade goblets that had been gifted her over the course of her stay aboard the ship. "Please, join me for some refreshments and tell me what is on your mind, my dear."

"You. You're on my mind. Don't give me a deflection, tell me what's going on with you, Hera." In her mind she considered it before she spoke, realizing that simple logic gave her at least part of the answer, if not the core truth of it. If she asked, Hera would likely tell her the truth. The question was, could she handle that truth?

The answer came from a part of her she wasn't fond of getting in touch with, and it filled her eyes with tears she blinked back. In her heart, the explorer knew that she did not want to know. Not here, not now. Soon, perhaps. But the truth was a bit more than she could bear right now already. Looking at her hands, she began to speak softly.

"I killed someone, Hera. I killed someone I didn't mean to kill. I discorporated her corporeal form into energy, and without a unifying field, she dissipated. Poof. Flare of the ultraviolet and gone, not even a blast shadow to mark her passing. I killed a woman by accident, Hera." Looking up, tears filled the young woman's eyes. "I've killed a few people since I came here. Most were in combat. But your general, back on Meroset 347... I could have wounded him, taken him out of the fight. But I didn't take the chance- I expected reinforcements to storm the position, so I executed him."

"Bang. Cold blood. Bullet beamed through the brainpan. And I shot Arenara Artan with a phaser set to 'kill'. Was it an accident?" Rita stared off into the distance, eyes focused on a point only she could see as she whispered. "Did I know, subconsciously? Was I just too preoccupied, or was that what I was planning?"

Looking to the matron goddess, the impossible officer's eyes were wide, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I don't... I don't know, Hera. I think... I might have lost my way."

"Oh my sweet, sweet girl..." Hera headed over and pulled Rita into her embrace, stroking her short hair softly. "I'm so sorry you have to go through this. I could give you rationale and reasoning and... But in the end, none of it would help you feel better, would it? No, what you need is a mother. I'm here for you, Rita. Just let it all out and I'll listen, ok?"

Swept into a matronly embrace, Rita Paris wept, and wept uncontrollably. She cried for the life she had taken never meaning to. She cried for the life she took when she should have found a better way. She cried for the loss of innocence that being a killer brought with it, and she cried for the stain she would forever carry upon her soul. She cried for the future she feared, and for what she might become. And through it all, while she did murmur and form some intelligible words, for the most part it was simple catharsis that she needed.

It would do harm to others for her to release her pent-up emotion thusly. Sonak loved her beyond life itself, but his calm and logical touch was not the remedy for this heartache. Nor sisters nor friends nor anyone else would do for the absolution she sought. It had been many years since she had found comfort in her own mother's arms, for she had been taken early, and Rita had grown up without such comfort. But here, now, in the arms of the goddess of women, mothers and family, the lost navigator cried like a child in her mother's arms.

"Shh... There you go... Let it all out..." As Hera cooed softly and reassuringly, she continued to smooth Rita's hair and gently hold her until she started to calm down. Once she did, the matronly goddess guided her over to the small dining table and sat down with her, still with one arm wrapped around her as she opened the glass domed food tray. "Here, have one of these chocolate fudge bars I made."

While she wasn't much for sweets, a habit the athletic astronaut had picked up along with most of her food issues when she was young, right now that sounded exactly like what she needed. So Rita picked one out, and took a rather healthy bite, to let the chocolate, icing and fudge swirl around in her mouth. Intellectually she knew that the flood of endorphins that followed them would help resettle the emotional executive's upset brain chemistry. Wiping at her eyes with the backs of her hands, Rita sniffled even as Hera handed her a tissue. Blowing her nose in a most unladylike fashion, Rita slumped a bit in the chair.

"Thank you... I guess I really needed that," Rita offered, looking over at Hera with her eyes shining, but not refilling with tears. "That's... that's been a while in coming, I think. Seems I've been damming it up, eh?"

"We all need a good cry sometimes, my dear." Hera smiled her most motherly smile as she dried the eyes of the buxom bombshell. "Have you gotten it all out for now?"

“I think so,” Rita admitted, wiping off her face. “It’s just… this future, when I got here, it seemed so… so dark. And I was worried that instead of upholding the ideals and optimism of my era, I would become… more of a reflection of this time and place. I worry about that… and then… “ In her mind’s eyes, she could still see the bluish glowing silhouette of Arenara Artan as she disintegrated, from a weapon fired by the hand of Rita Paris. It played out again, and every time she still felt that knot of guilt in her stomach. The dread responsibility for having taken a life she had no intention of ending.

“It… she had horrible plans for Enalia, and I have no regrets over stopping her. The woman was vile. But… killing her by accident was not… it isn’t acceptable, Hera. Enalia forgave me, the admiralty isn’t going to punish me over it, but… I still feel it. I still see her. And it makes me review my actions, and wonder if I am just taking the easy way out. Was it an accident? Or am I just becoming a darker reflection of the times? I don’t know, Hera, and honestly? That possibility scares me.”

Then Hera pulled Rita in for a hug once more, but didn't hold it long. "Oh my sweet, dear Rita. All those in such times question themselves in similar ways. One thing I've seen over the ages though... one invariable constant... is the resilience of Humans. In each generation, Heroes have arisen to fight oppression and corruption, and in you I sense the same resolve and strength as Bellerophon, Boudica, Beowulf, Leonidas... even Hercules, as much as I resented him back then."

"I wish you did not have to bear this burden... However, I know that there is no one better suited for it. I have borne witness to the strength of your character, and found you a match for any I have ever met... and more. Even Maat would find it hard to weigh your heart against that of his feather."

"On top of that, unlike heroes of the past, you are a hero of Starfleet. I may have heard it said that no one in Starfleet is ever alone," Hera mentioned, looking innocent as she quoted Rita's own words back to her. "Not only do you have your husband to share your burdens, but your entire crew and Fleet of Stars..." Hera waived airily before bringing her fingertips down to brush her chest over her heart. "Even me, because you reminded me of who I once was, and who I could be once again. The actions you regret may have been yours, but the burden is the shared responsibility of those you call your friends and... How is it you would put it? Your fellow officers, your crew, your shipmates?"

"So all of this is just an old lady's way of telling you that no, you are not a darker reflection of this age. Quite the contrary, you are a bearer of light in the dark places- a Hero of the age. Sometimes Heroes must be called upon to perform great feats of sacrifice, for the greater good. You have performed a number of such feats." Taking Rita's hands in her own, Hera gazed into the bright blue eyes of the young woman from so long ago, yet the blink of an eye to such as herself.

"I will not tell you to be proud of those acts, for I know that they weigh heavily upon your conscience. The fact that you feel remorse is part of what makes you a hero, woman. But instead of dwelling upon that weight," Hera patted Rita's hand gently, "I will remind you to remember all of the immense good that has been wrought from those actions- not for yourself, but for the universe."

Surprised to hear such a thing and feeling taken aback by it, Rita realized that this was what basking in maternal pride felt like. Being told that they were proud of you, that you had made the right calls and choices, that you were doing the right thing, and to trust yourself. Enalia was more of a peer to her, even with the rank between them that meant Rita would always defer to her. But they respected one another, and it was earned on both sides. Dox too was a peer, although they would always have a big sister/younger sister dynamic as mentor and mentee. Rita had taught her how to be an officer, and always encouraged her to be herself and trust her heart, and she too was a hero in her own right.

Sonak was proud of her and still found her fascinating after all these years, but that was a very different relationship. In both they saw the other half of the universe, and like the balance of yin and yang, anima and animus, they would always orbit one another and challenge, grow and enrich one another's lives. Asa Dael would outlive them all, but they would always be the kid to Rita, the immortal El-Aurian who she would encourage to never lose the childlike wonder of discovery that they embodied. When she had problems like this, Asa would likely have good answers- but they didn't need to see that side of the golden commander they would and could follow into hell.

While Sam had seen a thing or two, he wasn't the one to come to when you needed to cry on his shoulder. Thex was a wonderful friend, but she was dealing with a new instant family, and despite their similarities and friendship, a lot of Rita's feeling and concerns were often, for lack of a better word, alien to the sapphire-skinned spanner jockey. The Baroness was growing distant, because soon she would leave to go and be with her new family in New Asgard, and the platinum-tressed pirate was not good at good-byes, Rita suspected. So many others aboard were friends who were family, and she treasured them all.

But here and now, Rita had sought comfort in the company of the very living embodiment of women, mothers, and families. The tyrant of Meroset 347, reformed and choosing to aid the denizens of the starship that bears her name, the Greek goddess Hera. Because when she doubted herself, and she needed to not be the Commander; not be the steady voice of surety that lent confidence to others, the wise turn of phrase that experience had lent her, nor the words and attitudes and traditions of her Starfleet legacy. When the time came to pass when she needed to just question herself, and be told that she was not wanting, that she was not failing, and it was all right for her to be simply human, it seemed, as was the way with her people, what was needed more than anything else was a mother's soothing touch and words, a caress with a reassurance, and a shot of maternal pride.

Because sometimes even Commander Rita Paris needed a mom.

Entering his quarters Varnok slumped down on his bed, sighed and looked around. Dimming the lights and setting the temperature more to his liking, he starting unpacking. The Ensign made quick work of organizing his uniforms and the few civilian clothes he had. Feeling around in his duffle bag he pulled out a small photo, looking down on the stoic faces of his parents for what seemed the thousandth time. Gently he sat it on the small credenza in his room One of the first things he did when he was assigned to the U.S.S. Varyss was download his parents' photos from their death reports as a reminder of where he came from.

Going back to the bag, the last thing he took out was an isoliner rod, the casing was worn from age and handling. It was his most cherished possession, a gift from his mother, 'Enigma Tales' by Shoggoth. He often thought maybe she knew where his path would take him. His love of puzzles and intrigue...in another life, this path would have led to the Obsidian Order. Looking down at the rod and running his thumb across its smooth exterior, he gently placed it in a place of reverence by his parents' photograph. Glancing around the tidy room, he picked up the PaDD looked at the next procedure he needed to complete. Ah ...medical, time to get cleared for duty. Quickly looking up the direct path to his destination and committing them to memory he set off to meet with Lieutenant Asa Dael.

Walking down the corridors the Cardassian strode purposely, nodding in greeting if anyone engaged him. Quickly arriving at the Sick Bay he straightened his uniform, walked in the door and looked towards the nearest nurse. “ Excuse me, I am Ensign Varnok reporting for medical clearance, can you please point me to Lieutenant Dael?”

The time-wisened face of Nurse Almera greeted him with a smile. The matronly woman quickly typed a message into a PaDD and replied, “Right this way, Ensign. They will see you in their office.”

He nodded and followed the seasoned nurse.

Once inside the glass-walled office, Varnok was greeted by an androgynous figure with close-cropped hair leaning over a large desk. They appeared to be arranging different PaDD’s showing images of infants in various poses. Standing up quickly and rubbing at their neck, Asa blushed crimson around the ears as they walked over to Ensign Varnok extending a hand in greeting.

“Sorry about that, you caught me working on a little arts and crafts project. We’ve had several deliveries on board lately, and I wanted to surprise the new families with scrapbooks. It would seem I’m vastly underqualified for the task, but enthusiasm before skill sometimes, right? I’m talking too much again, aren’t I? Sorry about that, still doing it. Anyway, Doctor Asa Dael, nice to meet you!”

Meandering diatribe finished, Asa stood smiling broadly with their hand extended, hoping they hadn’t made a complete fool of themself in front of the new crew member.

Varnok smiled widely back at the Doctor and gripped their hand in a hardy handshake. He found their awkwardness quite charming. He thought to himself he never felt so welcomed anywhere before. He replied warmly, "It is a pleasure to meet you. That is a fine endeavor for you to undertake for your patients.

Blush spreading from ears to toes now, Asa gave the best they could to the return handshake. “Thanks. Gotta care for body and soul, right? So, how can I help? We have your onboarding scans to do of course, but is there anything you are specifically concerned about you would like me to look at?”

Jarnok grinned again, "No Nothing In particular. Just my required medical scans to be cleared for duty" Looking down at his PaDD and back at the young Doctor "I see you are also the ships acting counselor, I will need my psych clearance as well." The tall young Cardassian Ensign heard an audible growl come form his stomach. Slightly embarrassed "Please forgive me, I have not had the opportunity to eat, since I arrived."

With a laugh, Asa pulled a meal-replacement bar from their desk and threw it to the young officer. "Here 'ya go, I swear by things some days. You eat, I'll scan."

On their way over to Jarnok, Asa poured him a glass of water and placed that on the table to his right, then set about completing the rudimentary scans. Content with what they were seeing, they nodded to themself and closed the tricorder. After a quick perusal of his chart, Asa pretended to read a moment more to allow the engisn a chance to eat if needed.

After a pause, they said, "You are fit as a fiddle physically. As for what's in the noggin, a few quick questions and you will be good to go. Can you please describe to me what you view to be your primary duties as a Starfleet Officer- not the job description, but what it means to you."

Thankful for the Doctor’s quick thinking Varnok polished off the meal replacement bar like a half-starved Targ. Taking a long drink of water the lithe Cardassian replied, ” I joined Starfleet to have purpose in my life….to make a difference in the universe.” He smiled wistfully towards the friendly face listening to him “ Mostly I wanted to belong….to feel part of something bigger than myself.”

Smiling at the similarities between the two of them, Asa nodded and said, "I can understand that all too well. What difficulties do you think you might face on the Hera, and how do you plan to overcome them?"

Taking another sip of water, Varnok replied, "I left my meeting with Commander Paris feeling encouraged. I am choosing to focus on the positive."

He thought for a moment then continued. "I am looking at my assignment to the Hera as a fresh start." Varnok smiled brilliantly at the young Doctor. "I will meet any challenges one at a time."

"Fresh starts can be good....as long as we don't let our pasts define our present choices. If you find you are having a hard time with that, my door is always open. One last question and I'll let you run along, what coping techniques do you have in place for emotional stress? It's an important part of life aboard a Starship, and if you don't have any stress-coping plans, I'm happy to help you formulate one." Asa inquired.

"In the past, I have mediated or read, just quiet time to myself, it helps me refocus." the Cardassian Ensign replied. " If I find I need more than that, I will take you up on your offer." As he rose from his seat "Thank you Doctor for your time today. "


"Thank you for coming by, Ensign. Welcome aboard! I look forward to serving with you," Asa repllied, filing the report with command and smiling broadly.

As he moved through the Hera to his next destination, Varnok headed towards his meeting with his new Senior officer in Intelligence. Standing outside Lieutenant Samuel Clemens laboratory, Ensign Varnok took a deep breath, “Here we go.” he muttered quietly to himself. He really hoped the promise of this new post would be everything he had hoped his joining Starfleet would lead. He pressed the chime to announce himself and waited.

Inside the inner sanctum that was really a tinkerer's play area, Clemens hit the comm in response, and called out, "Come on in! Ah'm back in th'aft area," his light Earth Missouri accent coloring the phrasing. He had no doubt as to who his visitor was, as he'd been expecting him, and the video feeds of anyone approaching the Intel Pod were quite thorough, interlaced throughout with tactical information, as well as the Intel jackets on any identified parties.

The lithe Cardassian scanned the room looking for the source of the voice. Moving through the space and around the cluttered workstations, he arrived in front of the red-headed Lieutenant. "Ensign Varnok reporting, Sir."

Clemens waved to a monitor behind him, and Varnok's Fleet jacket appeared. Another wave, and his Federation Intelligence Services profile appeared on the neighboring monitor.

He shrugged. "I want to know what else you bring to th'table, Mister Varnok. It's pretty clear you're great at organization an' process improvement- yer a brilliant officer, despite what yer former CO said without sayin' about ya. All bull^#$@, by th'way. I checked."

He leaned back, and all but put his boots up on the table, obviously making himself comfortable, and in doing so, implicitly inviting Varnok to do the same.

"We're Starfleet Intel- it's what we do. We Think, and we Know Things."

"The Commander saw sumpin' special about you. I do, too- but I wanna know what you think is special about yuhself. Go 'head. Pontificate fuh me."

Varnok seated himself in the chair offered, but remained at attention. “Sir, I do not feel I am the best at pontification.” the Cardassian stated, ”However, I am a skilled observer and am adept at using those observations to come to logical conclusions. I have an eidetic memory due to years of training on Cardassia that I have found useful in this line of work.” The Ensign continued, “I have also found my unique-to-Starfleet appearance allows me in infiltrate places, humans dare not tread."

Clemens looked curiously at the young officer with a clear history of abuse. Not wanting to stand out would be a reasonable reaction in his case. He decided to try a different tack.

"What do ya reckon yer best at? As in, thuh obvious choice fer thuh job, amongst others. Sumpin' that yer proud of?"

As the question was a variation of the last question Clemens asked, Varnok deduced that the curious Intel Chief was likely fishing for something specific. Perhaps a more emotional answer that was outside of the reserved Cardassian's general comfort zone. Perhaps, Varnok thought, his comfort zone was what the cagey chief was trying to challenge. He had, of course, a number of achievements that were all listed in his personnel file on the monitor behind Clemens, so repeating that which the Chief had already read was not the answer.

Thinking about all of that and more in what was only the span of fewer than three seconds, the sharp-minded Ensign replied, "Deduction."

Pausing for a brief moment, Varnok continued. "When I began at the Academy, my studies were focused on the sciences. But problem-solving was what fired my mind and still does. I am proud of my ability to navigate through the mazes put before me and deduce what before me is real and what is deception. Most all people wear masks of one face or another. Finding the truth behind... that is what drives me."

Clemens let a smile show, and leaned forward.

"Welcome aboard, Sherlock Varnok. We've get a whole heap off Moriartys out there gunnin' fuh us."

Ensign Varnok smiled back at his new Chief, "Thank you, as Sir Arthur once said, 'The game is afoot!'."

After leaving Medical and his brief but insightful meeting with Lieutenant Clemens, the Cardassian Varnok was ready to meet the Captain of the Hera. Quickly making his way towards the bridge he was looking forward to this meeting. From what he could gather in his short time aboard Captain Enalia Telvan was well respected by her crew and this put the Ensigns mind at ease. Arriving at the door to the Captain’s ready room he pressed the chime to announce his presence.

Enalia had more PaDDs on her desk than she knew what to do with at the moment and most of them were civilian models from the fortress dealing with the family business. Looking up from them, she rubbed her eyes to try and look a bit more alert. "Come in."

Entering the room briefly glancing over the dark-haired woman, he had never met a Trill before but he read about the species and found the concept of joining with the symbiote intriguing. Coming to attention,” Ensign Varnok Jahal reporting for duty Captain" the stoic Cardassian stated.

Enalia just waved the formality aside. "At ease, Ensign. Unless you're in trouble I tend to ignore most formalities in private. For now, just help yourself to the replicator and have a seat. I'd normally offer a drink my wife made but I'm fresh out, unfortunately." Searching through the mess of PaDDs on her desk, it took Enalia a moment for her to find the one with his file on it. "Right. Ensign Varnok Jahal. Our newest Intel operative. It's rare that Rita finds someone like you before me, but she did. It's probably because I've been so distracted lately."

"Welcome aboard the Hera. How are you settling in so far? Wishing you could go back to your old assignment yet?" The hint of a piratical grin on the Trill Captain's face was sly at the very least.

Smiling slightly in return, “Thank you," Varnok replied. Heading over to the replicator he quickly ordered a ginger tea and sunk gracefully in a seat opposite his new Captain. "I am medically cleared and have reported into Lieutenant Clemens as required and have settled into my quarters briefly. I did quite enjoy my meeting with Commander Paris, I found our conversation enlightening. As I told her I was quite resolved to the fact that I could potentially have been on the Varyss my whole career." He thought for a moment , weighing his words, “If I may be blunt, I do not wish to ever return to the Varyss.” He looked down as if waiting for something... and then directly at the Trill.

"Then let's make sure you never have a reason to return there. From what I've heard that ship isn't the best place for anyone that isn't a member of a founding race of the Federation." Enalia looked over the PaDD for a moment more before dropping it back into the clutter on her desk. "Unlike them, we look for people that actually know their jobs and we value hard work and honesty. Anything that isn't a confirmed article violation that resulted in a court-martial... Which I believe is nothing... Has now been expunged from your record. You start here with a clean slate with nothing but your work history and training records."

"So... Since I refuse to believe anything your prior command says about you, how about you tell me a bit about yourself?" Enalia's piratical grin was in full bloom now. The man before her reminded her a bit of someone she once knew - she just hoped he could blossom like he had before he moved on.

Varnok hoped the surprise and gratitude did not show on his face, as he relaxed a bit in his seat. He thought for a moment…and began “ I thank you for your generosity." he smiled at the Captain, the first genuine smile he has shared in what seemed ages. “If it pleases you, I prefer Varnok, as I do not use my familiar name.” he continued “I found a way to communicate with a technological entity by discovering and learning it's language, leading to my being Valedictorian in my class at the Academy.” pausing for a moment “ These, however, are all in my records, I believe you are wanting to know more about my thoughts?” It was more of a question than a statement, no one ever asked him about himself.

"Pretty much. I can, and have, read your file. It's impressive, but then if it wasn't, you wouldn't be here." Enalia chuckled softly as she leaned back in her chair and eyed the man across from her for a moment. "And since I have no reliable performance reports or evals to go on... Tell me who you are, Varnok. Tell me what your hopes and dreams for the future are. Tell me what makes you get out of bed in the morning. Other than the need to use the refresher, that is..."

His smile widened, chuckling softly to himself. Varnok was beginning to think he was going to like this new post “I would like to think I am a good man, but I suppose everyone thinks of themselves that way,” Varnok cocked his head to one side as if contemplating a deep thought, he continued “My dream", he said softly, "Is to find my place in the universe. Where I belong. Where I can be useful." He smoothed his uniform absentmindedly “ When I was a young man adrift and alone, I joined Starfleet to make a difference. To feel a part of something bigger than myself.” Looking at the Captain directly again, he continued “Even though I have had hardships and loneliness, I have never given up hope that I could fulfill that dream.” He sat up a little straighter in his chair, “That is what gets me out of bed in the morning, Captain.”

Enalia grinned wider. She definitely liked this man. "That's an excellent reason to get out of bed and not far off of mine. I want to make the galaxy a better place and strive to give people the freedom from fear that they so richly deserve, even if what they fear is something they may never know about. Which brings me to my next question - what have you heard about our missions, such as they are?"

The Cardassian returning her smile spoke matter of fact “ I had heard rumors of some connection to piracy, which Commander Paris has all but confirmed.” Varnok continued “In my days aboard the Varyss whispers and stories were passed among the crew. Always contradictory though, never a firm lock on the truth.” the Ensign looked around the room taking it in, “It never failed to catch my attention that whenever something unusual happened in Starfleet tales of the Hera were not far behind.”

"Well, we've dealt with a lot of Demon and Deity class threats. As in literally Deities and Demons. There are two of them that make their home aboard the Hera and my Adjutant to the Artan family, whom I am now the reigning Queen of, is engaged to a third and seems to be gaining powers similar to his." Searching for the PaDD with his records on it again, Enalia pulled it out and tapped at it for a few moments before dropping it back in the pile.

"I've authorized you access to Hera's quarters if you'd like to visit her. She was the queen of the... Ah... I believe it was the Roman pantheon on Earth a couple of thousand years ago. Recently, there was a big kerfuffle with dead deities being summoned back into the galaxy and she was missummoned and took over a world that was a bit more advanced than us and knocked them back to the bronze age, oppressing them and ruling them with Amazons, Minotaurs, and some sort of sentient statue people. We're rehabilitating her and she's helping us out now and then." Enalia paused a moment, making sure she had Varnok's full attention as she continued. "We also apparently picked up the literal embodiment of Death as a VIP guest, if you can believe that."

The Cardassian Ensign grinned widely. "I can believe a lot of things, Captain." He chuckled slightly and continued. "In my experience, nothing is impossible. I am honored that you have granted me this level of access. Though I will wait until proper introductions can be made. One does not simply walk into a Goddesses quarters."

Thinking for a moment, Varnok continued with a slightly more serious tone. "Death, on the other hand, I would like to meet if at all possible, if they are the embodiment of the true Death." Memories of his parents flashed through his mind.

"That could pose an issue. She's invisible to almost everyone, including me." Enalia turned grim at the request to meet Cara. "She also supposedly looks different to whomever can see her. We have a picture of her via a cybernetic eye, but honestly... If someone that can see her... Or if she introduces herself to you? That's not something to take lightly."

"However, if you insist on it..." Enalia searched her desk for a moment for a PaDD but couldn't find it right off so gave up. "Ah... Lieutenant Dox, Doctor Dael, and Lieutenant Clemens are all able to perceive her. If you'd prefer a civilian attache, my Adjutant, Baroness Schwein von Alcott is available as well. I'll add clearance to visit her as well, but she might not be in... We have no real way of knowing..."

"This is an impressive amount of information, thank you for your confidence," Varnok replied with a genuine look of fascination on his face. He relished solving riddles and mysteries and this new assignment seemed to be packed with opportunities to flex those muscles. "Of course figuring how to manage impressive information is the core of intelligence work and it seems I have my work cut out for me."

The Trill Captain grinned knowingly. She too enjoyed her work in Intel Command. "Well then, do you have any questions for me? Any curiosities I might sate?"

"At this time, I believe I have ample information to begin processing in regards to the ship and its mission and crew. I am looking forward to reading through all the files that have been made available to me and determining the rest through the normal execution of my duties."Varnok grinned, enjoying the interactions with his new shipmates. The Captain seemed to be as enigmatic as Commander Paris, and a potential wealth of stories to be sure, that he looked forward to unraveling in its due time. As he reflected on the day, Varnok thought that the winds of change may have finally been smiling on him.

"Then let me know if there's ever anything I can do to help. Dismissed." With a smile and a nod, Enalia turned her attention back towards the sea of datapads on her desk and went back to trying to work her way through them.

“Thank you Captain” Ensign Varnok smiled , turned and walked out of the office. Waiting for the turbo lift the Cardassian smiled to himself and thought, he may have finally found a home.

After a long day of onboardings, first with the Hera's First Officer, then to the Chief Medical Officer, the Intel Chief and finally the Captain herself, Ensign Varnok was both drained and very hungry. The Cardassian Ensign glanced down at the PaDD in his hand to call up a place to eat.

He could have easily returned to his quarters and used the replicator there but wanted to study his fellow crewmates a bit. He often sought to observe the comings and goings of others. The Ensign liked to think it helped keep his observational skills sharp.

Arriving at the Hera's primary lounge, Ten-Forward, the tall Cardassian stepped through the doors. He could feel eyes on him as he glanced around the room. Heading over to the bar, he was thankful that it was fairly busy and he couldn't hear any whispers.

Shaking his head slightly as if to clear his thoughts, he found an open spot and waited patiently to be acknowledged by the young, haggard-looking human serving drinks. Turning, the man called over, "I can grab your order in a moment or I can send over a server. If you're eating in you may want to take a seat. They fill up fast on most nights."

Scanning the room, Varnok saw an empty table in the far corner by the windows. Smiling, he motioned towards the table with his head and made his way to sit down as the bartender nodded back, "Someone will be right there."

Sitting with his back to the bulkhead, Varnok looked longingly out the window at the surrounding stars. He sat thoughtfully for a moment of how far he has traveled in life and then slowly turned his attention to the room.

As he began to people watch, the doors wooshed open again and a short, thickly built red-headed officer in Crimson stepped in, her nose buried in a PaDD. Not bothering to stop at the bar, she made a bee-line to the table Varnok was sitting at.

Arriving at the table, Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox was slightly surprised to see anyone sitting there. "Huh... Oh, pardon me. I didn't notice anyone sitting here."

The awkward Romulan woman glanced around, seeing only an empty seat at the bar. "Uh... Pardon again. Good evening."

Varnok thought quickly that this must be her regular table. "You may join me if you like, there seems to be limited seating tonight."

Pausing for a second, Dox gave the Ensign and his gray Intel uniform with a single solid pip a very quick once over. A crewmember she didn't recognize immediately made the suspicious young pilot slightly weary. But there were many crewmembers she had only ever seen in passing and she didn't want to be rude. "You appear to be correct. Thank you, Ensign..."

Leaning a little heavy on 'ensign' and trailing off to fish for a name conversationally, Dox sat down at the offered seat, while thumbing her PaDD's controls to call up the ships crew records.

A wry smile crossed the Cardassian's face, Romulans are so prickly. Standing slightly and gesturing to the seat across from him "Ensign Varnok, pleasure to meet you Lieutenant Dox" he replied in fluent Rihan, the Lieutenants native language.

Immediately, the hairs on the back of Dox's neck went up. As she sat, his profile came up on the PaDD she had been thumbing at her side. Whoever her was, he was an official crewmember. Silently, she chastised herself for being so preoccupied with her bonding ceremony that she had not kept up with new crew onboarding information.

"You have me at a disadvantage, Ensign Varnok." She replied in standard English. "I've not yet had the opportunity to read your file, while you've clearly read mine."

"My apologies Lieutenant I meant no disrespect.'' nodding to the PaDD at her side,'' I see you have found my record." The young Cardassian smiled sincerely at the Romulan officer. "I hope you will find it acceptable."

Just then the slim brown haired waitress that had been making her rounds to the other tables appeared. "Are you eating tonight Lieutenant? Turning towards the striking Cardassian, she coyly said "and what may I get for you...Sir?"

While taking a moment to read her PaDD openly now, Dox replied. "Just a cup of brhon caelis, black. And a plate of salted lehe'jhme fruit please, Leanna."

Ordering a light snack and a strong cup of Romulan coffee, Dox nodded and put her PaDD down on the table with a satisfied but ever so slight smile. "I have a dress to fit into, so I'm eating light. Your order, Mister Varnok?"

Noticing the way Leanna kept glancing at him Varnok looked at the girl directly caught her eyes and ordered "Cup of ginger tea and hasperat, please ...Leanna is it?" Watching the younger woman blush from head to toe, nod and retreat to the kitchen with their orders. He chuckled slightly and turned back to the redhead seated across from him.

"So, you came on board earlier today. New crew transfer, specifically requested by Commander Paris. That answered enough of my questions for now." Taking on a more relaxed posture, Dox looked much less anxious than she did initially. "And you've had at least some time to read up on my file. I would assume a few other members of the command crew as well. But I would guess you've not been fully caught up on our most recent mission?"

" No I have not been briefed on the current affairs Lieutenant" the Ensign replied. "I have just been glancing over the personnel files and some of the other files Commander Paris gave me access to."

Leanna appeared abruptly almost as if she rushed to the table, and started to place their respective orders in front of them. The smell of the spices of the Bajorian fare intertwined making Varnok mouth water. Taking a deep draw off the tea... "Mmmmm ... thank you, it's delicious, Leanna"

Picking up her cup of coffee, Dox blew lightly on it and took a sip as she began to speak. "I didn't think so. I'll have to apologize for my initial suspicious behavior. I'm normally more on top of new crew onboardings, but have been distracted with personal matters."

Talking over the rim of her cup, the red-headed Romulan continued. "But you should know that due to the recently concluded Artan pirate tribunal, there have been several assassination attempts made against members of this crew. One aimed at me, specifically, that led to the death of a crew member."

Putting her cup down on the table, she grabbed a piece of fruit and took a bite. "So, I hope you can forgive my moment of suspicion at an unfamiliar face who knows who I am."

"Under those circumstances, anyone would be wary." Varnok stated. "I hope it does not reflect badly on me." Brows narrowing he continued, 'Is this something we should be concerned with continuing in the future?"

"I hope my initial suspicions don't reflect badly on me, Mr. Varnok." Dox replied with a light smile. "As for being concerned, I'm neither security nor intelligence, but I'd say yes. The former Queen may be gone, but she laid a great many plans against the Captain."

Then Dox took another bite of her salted fruit. "But that's work talk and I remember my onboarding. I'm pretty sure you talked about work all day long. Answered the same two or three questions more than a few times." Smiling, the red-headed Romulan took a sip of her coffee.

"Yes, it has been a long day. I had the feeling when you approached the table this is your usual table? I can see why you like it ." The Cardassian grinned back and gestured towards the window. "I was musing to myself when you came upon me, that I am a long way from where I started." Finishing his tea Varnok raised his cup in hand to get Leanna's attention. The brown-haired waitress hurried over with another tea.

Rolling her eyes slightly at the young waitresses now clear interest in the Cardassian Ensign, Dox continued to nurse her coffee. "I like the windows. I was born on a freighter. I've lived in space most of my life. The view makes me feel at home wherever we are."

Looking out the windows, Dox had an almost serene expression. "There's Stellis 4. The Agrellian cluster. If you're curious, Cardassia Prime is...." The seasoned pilot wiggled her finger and pointed at a spot on the wall behind the bar. "35.6 light-years that way."

Looking down at the spot Dox had pointed to. Varnok chuckled"Thank you, although I have not seen my homeworld since I was 14 yrs old. My parents worked off-world quite a lot."

"No worries." Dox replied, taking a sip of her coffee. "I was piloting that same freighter I was born on full time by the time I was ten. Learned star charts before that. That said, I've never actually set foot on ch'Rihan... on Romulus... before."

Changing the subject off of herself for fear of the topic getting melancholy, Dox followed up on Varnok's earlier comment. "What did your parents do?"

"They were scientists, terraformers to be precise for the Cardassian government." the Cardassian Ensign looked quietly out the window, " We were on our way back to their outpost on Septimus III, when we were intercepted...." Varnok trailed off quietly.

Nodding lightly, Dox continued nursing her coffee and replied in a serious tone. "The Dominion war?"

"Yes... I was 15 at the time. I was one of 5 survivors on our shuttle. Starfleet found us adrift and mortally wounded. Whilst the others chose to an established refugee camp, I chose to return to Earth with Starfleet." Varnok gave a wry smile "Little did I know how it would change my life." Looking at the red-headed Romulan, he cocked his head slightly and asked: " If I may ask, how did you end up in Starfleet?"

Sitting back, Dox realized that her cup was all but empty and waved down their server for a refill. But it was largely a distraction as she pondered how best to answer the question. The topic of her childhood was not her favorite subject and it was one she had worked hard to move away from.

But Varnok had been honest with her and she felt that it was only right to do the same. As her freshly refilled cup returned, she took a slight breath. "I have two records, Mr. Varnok. My official record, which you've seen. And a sealed one that only the Captain, Commander and Intel command have read. That said, most everyone that knows me on this ship knows the contents of the real file by now, so it's only fair."

"The freighter I was born and raised on was a smuggling ship. My Mother and I were smugglers, moving various contraband and refugees for the Romulan reunification movement in and out of the Neutral Zone. It was... not a life I enjoyed." The slightly more anxious young Lieutenant took a sip of her freshened coffee.

"When I was sixteen, I sabotaged our cloak and got us caught by a Starfleet patrol ship. And to make a long story short, when I was able to, I joined the academy. When I had all but given up, Starfleet saved me." Dox looked out the window as she spoke.

"My mother went into custody with Starfleet Intelligence to ensure my record was sealed and she stayed there for over 16 years." Then, as she spoke, let out a nervous chuckle. "You'll be meeting her, actually. She's on the ship now as an... independent consultant for the Intel department. So It's likely you'll be working together at some point."

The rawness and honesty of this young woman touched the Cardassian. he thought to himself before answering how they both found salvation in Starfleet. "It seems we have Starfleet to thank for our current position. Thank you for sharing your story. It has been a long time since I just sat and talked openly with someone. I am happy you chose to sit down." Varnok smiled warmly at the young woman and thought he may have just found a friend.

"I'm glad I did as well." Dox took another bite of her salted fruit and smiled a little more comfortably. "My first day here was a tense one. My onboardings... some of the... they didn't go all that well and I was a nervous wreck. But I was trying to make my posting here different. Better than my last posting, at least. So at the end of my first day on duty, I came here to try and not be an antisocial wreck."

"That's when Doctor Dael showed up and sat down to talk to me." Dox smiled at the memory. "This is an exceptional ship, Mr. Varnok. Give her a chance and she will transform you."

"I have already been made to feel more welcome on this ship than I ever did at my last post." Varnok stated. Grinning at Dox "Would you join me in celebrating with chocolate? I found I quite like the taste."

At which point, Dox let out a throaty little laugh as she thought back to her own first time in Ten-Forward where she became friends with the ships energetic, El-Aurian Chief Medical Officer, Asa Dael. "You and Doctor Dael are going to get along famously, Mr. Varnok."

"Their love for Chocolate is... legendary," Dox added as she flagged down the waitress with a thoughtful expression. "One chocolate lava cake please."

As the waitress left, Dox smiled lightly. "That was the desert Doctor Dael ordered for us the first time I was here in Ten-Forward. Seemed appropriate. Though, none for me." Then, the young Lieutenant picked up her PaDD and waved it. "Remember. I've got a dress to fit into."

The Cardassian let out a throaty laugh (lending to quite a few glances their way) "Appropriate, it is!" Still grinning " So tell me the importance of this dress, that you are willing to limit chocolate intake?"

"Wedding dress, Mr. Varnok." Dox had a wry grin as the largely off-limits dessert arrived. "So, by all means, enjoy. I'll be living vicariously through you from over here. One bite of that and it will take more than an hour of sparring in the morning to make up for it."

Varnok raised an eyebrow "Wedding? I did not realize congratulations were in order." Taking a large bite of cake the Cardassian smiled devilishly "Are you sure you will not join me?" as he quietly slid an extra fork her way.

"Thankfully for my waistline, I prefer salty, tart treats." Dox replied with a smirk. "Eat your cake, Ensign. Unless you're volunteering to let me work off the calories in the gym sparring with you in the morning?"

The Cardassian Ensign shrugged " I have to admit my palate is not traditional." Taking another bite and contemplating the sweet delicious chocolate in his mouth. "I am fortunate to have a high metabolism, I have rarely put on weight since I reached maturity. I would join you in the gym gladly Lieutenant, if I did not have to prepare for duty in the morning."

"Oh, I hit the gym at oh four-thirty hours, Ensign. Unlike you, I need to put in significant work to remain this not slim." Dox chuckled lightly "But no sparring for me for a few days. I get a black eye this week and it... will not go over well."

Looking at the time on her PaDD, Dox finished off her coffee and nodded at the smiling Cardassian officer. "That said, I need to be heading back to my quarters. Still, lots to plan, but it was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Varnok. I hope you enjoy serving on the Hera."

The Cardassian Ensign half stood and nodded back, "Thank you for the company Lieutenant, I am sure I shall." As he watched the young Romulan woman leave he surveyed the room and thought to himself, yes I think I will enjoy this ship. Varnok looked out the window one last time before rising to leave for his own quarters and said quietly to himself "Soon Mother, I will find out if you are at peace."

But that was a conversation for another day.

The trio standing on the flight deck were waiting for a civilian shuttle - a Miradonian craft, at that. One that made Mona Gonadie more than slightly nervous as she seemed to readjust her uniform every few seconds as she stood next to her lover and bond-mate and her first officer, preparing to welcome her foster parents that had raised her after most of her colony had been eaten. She barely remembered her biological family at this point, but the 'redneck evangelical' stereotype was strong with her foster parents.

Still, they made sure every chick they took in got good schooling, worked hard, and was well fed. They wanted every orphan to have every opportunity they didn't growing up, and they thanked the Moon Goddess for every success. For all their back-woodsey-ness and reliance on government subsidies, they were loving people and even now, they insisted on being at every bonding ceremony they could manage to attend.

Hence the approach of a metallic green, purple, and yellow shuttle that looked like it had small wings on the top of the main body and smaller skids painted to look like chicken legs on the bottom. A few smaller panels were missing and it looked like it was going to fall out of space at any moment, but that was half the charm of most Miradonian crafts - they kept on flying even with half the parts missing.

As the craft closed in on the USS Hera and was ensnared by the tractor beams, it was guided to the landing spot waiting for them, where it settled so that the large rear hatch was facing the three awaiting crew members. A small nervous squawk came from Mona, right before the hatch unsealed and lowered to become a ramp.

A moment later, a pair of Miradonians wearing soft cotton overalls in garishly bright colors seemingly popped out of the shuttle, each almost as wide as they were tall, and they were only a few inches shorter than Mona herself. As for their colorations, they were similar to Mona's, but had blues instead of greens in their plumage.

Standing next to Mona, Mnhei'sahe kept her face neutral with a polite smile, but now understood what Mona meant when she had described herself as 'skinny for a Miradonian.'

"There's our girl! Mona, come here and give your old pappy a..." The first started to exclaim before the second rotund bird poked them in the gut.

"Dear, this is Starfleet. They have..." They began, letting the other finish the thought.

"Right, procedure." He then looked at the trio of officers, trying to remember how rank worked. In the end, he just went with the most bling on the uniform and addressed Rita, trying to come to attention and saluting as best he could. "Uh... Sir... Ma'am... Permission to come aboard this magnificent vessel and see our daughter and her bond-mate?"

A wide, bright, friendly close-lipped smile graced the face of the striking Starfleet siren in the old-fashioned uniform. After all, many species regarded the baring of teeth to be hostile, and she did not want to intimidate, but accommodate. With that in mind, she returned the salute smartly, with no hint of condescension nor mockery. “By all means, permission granted. We’re honored to have you aboard. On behalf of the command staff of the USS Hera, may I say it is a pleasure to have you here with us for this joyous event. I'm Commander Rita Paris, and if you need anything during your stay, you just let me know, hm?"

The first Miradonian relaxed visibly and sighed in relief. "Oh thank goodness. We're not too up on rank or uniforms or all that..."

"We're not even sure what race you all are..." The second added apologetically, adding a few nods.

"Yep, we don't get too many off worlders visiting us." The man added.

Then, as if playing verbal ping pong, the statement bounced back to the other blue feathered Miradonian, who added a bit more. "And we just never bothered to pay much attention or learn, really."

"Now give us a big hug, Mona! Your pappy's been waiting forever!" Without bothering to wait for any further words from anyone else, he swept Mona up in his arms and hugged her so hard you could hear her bones pop.

The second Miradonian wasn't far behind, scooping Dox up in a similar bone-popping hug. "I recognize you from the holos, dearie. Just call me your mammy just like our little Mona. And don't worry about food."

"Right! We'll feed ya'll good and get some meat on them skinny bones!"

"Uh... H... Hello." Dox replied, gasping for air from the somewhat intense hug.

Finally getting a few words in edgewise as she extricated herself from the lung-crushing hug, Mona introduced the pair. "Commander, Mnhei'sahe... I'd like to formally introduce you to my foster parents, Milla and Mardo Morafry."

"But yous can just call us mammy and pappy just like all the chicks do," Milla added as they moved to give Rita a hug as well. "After all, we're all family now, right?"

Accepting and returning the hug, Rita Paris waited til it was finished, then offered Pappy a hug as well, and took that one as well. When it was finished, she held her hand to her chest in a delicate manner and offered an explanation. "I am a human. I come from a planet called Earth, in the alpha quadrant, about 16 light years from Vulcan. One of our greatest authors once wrote that humanity is the only species that will form a family out of the materials at hand... but then, he had never met a Miradonian."

"Welcome to the family. Let's get you folks settled in, shall we? Do you have any luggage we need to bring onboard?" A pair of burly humanoid security officers, one male and one female, stood at parade rest nearby on the flight deck, in their starched gold uniforms.

"Oh, we have a couple bags," Pappy began as he hobbled back up the ramp of the shuttle to grab two large suitcases that were as patchwork and colorful as the ship they were in. "They're a bit heavy though. Don't want ya'll ta strain yourselves."

"As the Moon Goddess Minay would say, share the load and happy times abound sooner," Mammy touted, one finger waggling in the air. "Besides, I don't think just the two of us could carry all six bags and my deep fryer."

At the mention of her mammy's deep fryer, Mona rolled her eyes and chuckled softly. Please tell me you brought the small one for barbeques, mammy."

"Oh no, dearie. We brought the big one for your ceremony. We'll be making our famous deep fried corn and egg vittlins for your after party, doncha know!" Mammy was next to climb up the ramp and started pulling a meter long deep fryer out of the shuttle behind her.

Pappy just chuckled and handed off his first two bags to one of the security types before heading back in for the other two. "As the Moon Goddess provides, so shall we!"

Standing between Rita and Mona, Mnhei'sahe Dox had begun to blush a deep green. After all, 'Minay' was also Mona's name for her and she didn't often think of the cultural or religious implications of that and hoped it wouldn't come up much. "Is..is there anything I can take? Please, let me help."

Mammy pointed off a bit deeper into the shuttle at what looked like a golf bag filled with deep fryer tools as tall as them. "There's the bag of fryer tools. Do ya mind grabbing them dearie? Mona, do ya mind taking care of the shuttle for us?"

Stepping onto the ramshackle shuttle, Dox reached down and hoisted up the densely packed bag that was nearly as long as the short Romulan woman was tall. The bag was extremely heavy and felt like there might have been a third Miradonian hiding out in it if not for the clanging and shuffling of all the tools. With a slight grunt, Dox thought to herself that she was happy that she had been working out so hard to prepare for the Captain's tribunal as she hoisted the strap up over her shoulder and carried the bag back out.

"She needs some repairs, but you know how these old birds get," Pappy said with a wink as he hefted the last of the luggage. "She'll still do a full trickster around just about anything though!"

"And Robera got a good price for us. You remember her, right? She got to the home right after you did." Mammy added as they started down the ramp with the fryer. "She married a nice... ah... The blue-skinned, bald people..."

"Anyway, they have a really nice used ship business and they practically gave us this one just so we could get to her bonding ceremony easier instead of taking a commuter shuttle." Pappy grinned in pride and patted the side of the shuttle.

"We named her the MRS Minmree - the Nightlove after our love for the Goddess." Mammy finished off as they got the fryer to the bottom of the ramp.

"That's a beautiful name." Dox replied as she walked with the heavy bag over towards Mona, tilting an eyebrow. "I'm sure we could ask maintenance to give her the once over. Ensign Gavarus left with O'Dell on leave, but Tooley and Marquez are filling in and I don't think they would mind. It's unofficial work, but I can ask after everyone gets settled."

"I'll make a list of what she needs," Mona added with a wink before heading in herself. "My Minay is the Chief of the Flight Control Department and almost as good a flyer and fixer as I am, you know."

Both of their eyes lit up with an inner radiance at hearing Mona's words and they both excitedly started talking at once unintelligibly in Miradonian, not even bothering to keep the same thoughts separate between them. The few bits that did come through basically amounted to their excitement that Mona had finally accepted the Goddesses love into her heart and that she had found someone that was her equal in every way and they went through another round of hugs with Dox.

As the two wrapped their thick arms hard around the awkward young Romulan, the heavy bag slipped down to the deck with a clatter that did nothing to disrupt the flurry of unexpected affection. And while Dox had been working to try and learn the language herself, in the moment, she was at a loss and couldn't quite keep up as she grunted through the tight embraces. "Uh... what's... why... *ow* why are we hugging again? What's wrong?"

As they continued talking like they were, Mona poked her head out of the shuttle to explain, a cheese-eating grin on her face. "I called you my Minay and told them what you do for a living just now. I didn't do that in the letters. They're just... Super excited, is all."

After a moment, they released their near death grip on Dox and the crimson-clad Lieutenant was able to catch her breath. As she readjusted her uniform, she continued with a more relaxed smile. "Excited is... um... good. I do have to work a little harder on my Miradonian as I was only picking up every fourth or fifth word or so. But I am very happy to finally meet you. Mona speaks of you with nothing but love."

"I... hope I can live up to any expectations you have for me as well." She said as she hoisted the heavy bag up on her shoulder with a light grunt. It was a slightly formal way of saying it that betrayed the young Romulans frayed nerves a bit.

"We've got some very nice accommodations for you folks, just down the hall from the lovebirds here," the gold-clad commander explained as she hefted a bag and began herding the small party into the Hera proper. "So what do you say we get you folks settled in, give you a chance to freshen up from your trip, maybe catch a little nap, then this evening is the rehearsal dinner at the Captain's table, as I recall from the itinerary? Also the rehearsal, it would stand to reason."

Meeting parents was an old game for Rita, who had grown up around elder officers and their families all of her life. As a Starfleet brat stationed in San Francisco, she'd attended endless parties, brunches, soirees and backyard cookouts. Mnhei'sahe Dox, on the other hand, had not been socialized as a child, and her relationship with her own mother was a wary one, and often combative. Thus, with the stress of the pending ceremonies and stress and anxiety about somehow screwing up the big day, disappointing Mona, hurting someone's feelings or doing something wrong were only going to make her tightly wound for the next 48 hours. So Rita Paris was going to make it her mission to herd her adopted sister through all of this without her head exploding from stress. Thus why she took the lead to move people and events along.

As the couple slowly calmed down and their speech once again became more coherent, it became quickly apparent that they were mighty glad that their Mona had found herself a Moon Goddess to properly bond with and would do anything to make sure the ceremony went off perfectly and looked forward to meeting Mnhei'sahe's parents as soon as possible. They were still doing the whole stream of thought thing, bouncing the sentence between them to get it out, but at least it was in Federation Common so everyone present could understand it.

As the unusual grouping of officers and family made its way to the turbolift, Mnhei'sahe's heart felt as if it had skipped a beat. In the rapid-fire stream of consciousness, the two Miradonian's were engaging in, they mentioned wanting to meet the young Romulan woman's parents. Of course, the status of Mnhei'sahe's father was largely unknown. The last time she had seen him, she didn't even know that the drunken Romulan on the Tortuga station was her father.

And her mother was an entirely different source of stress. Jaeih Dox was on board the Hera. Her quarters were likely going to be only a few doors down from the quarters where Mona's Foster parents would be staying. But they young Dox had no idea how the icy, confrontational, emotionally distant former Tal'Shiar agent would react to the gregarious, open, religious and impossibly friendly Miradonian couple waddling onto the turbolift with them as it arrived.

As the group worked its way into the cramped lift, Dox found herself wedged quite tightly between Mona's foster mother, Milla, and Mona herself. As Commander Paris instructed the lift to proceed to its destination on Deck 8, Mnhei'sahe closed her eyes to try and relax. Physically touching Mona meant that she could feel, quite strongly now, their freshly renewed bond.

It was like a minor flood of all the emotions flooding through Mona's mind that filled Mnhei'sanhe with the familiar warmth that she had missed so much during the months when their bond had been damaged. But restored to its former level, it was a bond Mona had once said was unusually strong, even among Miradonians. And as such, they shared more than their emotions when in contact. With her eyes still closed, Mnhei'sahe thought to Mona. Hnaev... they want to meet my MOTHER.

Mona was finally able to start to relax now that she was in contact with her Minay, but being squished like she was wasn't helping. She knew her bond with Dox was deeper than most other Miradonians could achieve, but her foster parents had practiced their entire lives with theirs and could feel that same level of bond across great distances. Still, the thrumming they made in the turbolift was a bit loud. It'll be ok. It's all going to be ok. We'll be there in case anything happens. It's not like she's going to eat them - she's a vegetarian, after all.

Nervously, Mnhei'sahe let a slight chuckle slip out at Mona's last thought. As she did, she blushed slightly again. Between Mona's thrumming, their body language, and now her chuckling at nothing, it was likely fairly obvious to the rotund couple that there was an unspoken conversation happening between the two young bond-mates.

"Uh...sorry. Sorry about that." Mnhei'sahe muttered, anxiously.

The elder Miradonians just chuckled as well, sharing a knowing look as they spoke together. "The bond is strong already."

For Mnhei'sahe, it almost felt as if the lift had decided to travel the entirety of the turbolift network of tunnles to make it just a few decks. But in reality, it had only been a few brief moments as the lift doors hissed open on deck 8. As the occupants began to filter out onto the deck, Mnhei'sahe stayed pressed up against Mona just a second longer as she thought to her bond-mate, Normally I'm just worried about SAYING the wrong thing. Now I'm worried about THINKING the wrong thing. Hnaev... they can't hear this, can they?

No, the bond doesn't work like that and I don't have a bond with them, Mona reassured her bond-mate, squeezing her a bit tighter for just a moment. "I added some decor to the VIP quarters you'll be staying in. Curtains, a few pictures... A diorama of the Moon Goddess and the Trickster over a shrine... I knew you'd want to make sure you could pray while aboard."

Letting out the slightest of breaths, Dox was at last relieved by that bit of information. At least she was only projecting her anxiety in the old fashioned way.

"Thank you!" Mammy started off, letting the thought carry over to pappy. "You've always been so considerate." And then back to Mammy. "I'm sure everything will be perfect." And then back to pappy. "After all, Starfleet ships are so large and accommodating."

"That they are, folks," Paris smiled, knowing the silent exchange all too well. After all, she and Sonak had once been able to communicate shipwide through their own bond, and even now, if he was near and she was stressed, her fingers would still seek his to establish that link, to feel his calming presence in her mind. Striding out onto Deck 8, Paris led the way with chatter. "Back in my day the quarters for very important guests were still a bit small and cramped, but these days the junior officer's quarters are bigger than that. How times change, eh?"

"In your cases, we've put you up in lucky Guest Quarters seven, so your next door neighbor will be Mrs. Dox. I thought it might be nice if the in-laws had a chance to chat one another up and swap childhood stories and such. So she's next door, in nine." Rita didn't mention the living goddess who traveled as a guest on the starship that bore her name, or the incarnation of eternity who sometimes took her rest another door down. Mnhei'sahe would be nervous enough without trying to explain all of that, as would the usually unflappable Mona Gonadie.

As they approached the quarters, a few doors down, a pair of Amazonian security officers in their starched gold uniforms offered them a respectful nod, then kept to themselves as Paris interposed herself between that sight and the open door of the VIP quarters. “Here we are, folks... it's a bit cramped, but we thought that would make it a bit cozier for you."

Which was, of course, Paris having a bit of fun. The quarters visible through the open door were nearly a dozen meters square, and while not lavishly appointed, they were both tasteful and comfortable. Plus the additions by Ensign Gonadie to ensure they would be welcoming to the visiting parents insured the success of the 'wow' factor on the uncomplicated Miradonians.

Mammy and Pappy explored the expansive VIP quarters, dropping their luggage and chittering to each other in shorthand Miradonian as they did so. They never got more than a couple meters from each other, but they seemed to cover ground exceptionally well, rolling through the quarters to inspect them thoroughly. They seemed especially pleased with the bed, which had been replaced with a Miradonian style pillow-nest in vibrant blues and yellows.

As they headed back into the main room, they clucked over the tiny kitchenette and how only one of them would fit in there at a time. Clearly, Starfleet needed to redesign its cooking areas to be more accommodating. The universal translator was doing its best to keep up, but with their years of practice with their bond and the shorthand they were using, only a few words were coming through. Odds were that only Mona could come close to deciphering what they were really at and she was standing there with a tense grin on her face.

Eventually, they finished their inspection and came back around and grinned happily. Mammy started off the stream of thought as the two rotund avians pressed against each other. "It's wonderful." "Thank you." "We especially love the shrine." "It's just like the one at home." "But smaller." "We could raise half a dozen chicks here." "You remember our first cottage, don't you, Mona, dear?" "It was so small we had to make beds on shelves." "We were so scared you would roll out the door." "You've always been a skinny chick though." "We'll make sure you're all fed well though."

Mnhei'sahe had gently lowered the bag she had been carrying inside the main door and quietly waited near Mona as the parents chittered about the space.

Much like Mona had done for their own shared quarters, she had clearly made this room feel more like a home, even for a short visit. And as the two finished their bizarre back and forth commentary, the red-headed Romulan couldn't help but wonder if that was how she and Mona would eventually get with their bond as it was getting stronger. Mnhei'sahe began to reply, "Well, we're very glad you like it, but the ship has... we... we have plenty of food, so you don't need to go out of your way at..."

Stopping short as she spoke, Mnhei'sahe's heart all but skipped a beat as her sensitive Romulan ears picked up the sound of the door of the quarters next to the room they were all standing in hiss open. Seconds later, Jaeih Dox rounded the corner to come into the still open doorway with a neutral expression on her face.

Taking in the momentarily silent room, Jaeih stood in the doorway, hands folded behind her back, in her usual gray Starfleet Intelligence Tunic, "Ahh, Commander Paris, I thought I heard your voice. I have the initial report of the data encryption codes for the Artan network you requested all but complete and... ah... pardon me. I didn't mean to interrupt." But her mannerisms and tone of voice were slightly exaggerated, letting Rita, Mona and her daughter know quite clearly that this bit of shop talk was simply an excuse to introduce herself and suss out the Miradonians that would soon be part of her new family.

“Mrs. Dox! No interruption whatsoever. In fact, your timing is fortuitous, I would say,” Paris knew how to play along with this game. After all, while she couldn’t lie to save her life, Rita also understood the relationships of in-laws, having seen plenty of such interactions over the years, although while Sonak had been forced to deal with her family in the past, never had she been exposed to his family, and now never would. But in the moment, she stepped aside to encourage the bride to be to make the introductions.

"Hello, Mother..." Mnhei'sahe grumbled slightly, under her breath as her eyes narrowed and her cheeks flushed green again. "This is Milla and Mordo. Mona's family."

"Ah, excellent. I've looked forward to meeting you both. My name is Jaeih. I am Mnhei'sahe's mother." The elder Dox nodded slightly with the slightest of smiles cracking the rigid facade of her face as she remained in the doorway.

The pair of rotund Miradonians shuffled their way through to force their hugs on Jaeih as well now, their stream of consciousness talk starting with Pappy this time. "It's a pleasure to meet you!" "Welcome to the family!" "We look forward to..." "...our chicks' ceremony with you." "You must be so proud." "I know we are." "It's so happy watching them leave the nest." "No matter how many ceremonies we go to." "Where is your husband?" "Will you be helping with the cooking or setup?" "What do you do for a living?" "We run the foster home that little Mona grew up in after..." "...the unfortunate incident." "With the Moon Goddess's blessing we've taken in a lot of orphan chicks." "And made sure they got the very best education and opportunities."

Though they spoke in common and tried to keep it coherent, even Mona was starting to go crosseyed, her head rotating slightly trying to keep it all straight.

For her part, Jaeih was trying to extricate herself from the phalanx of aggressive hugging while Mnhei'sahe couldn't help but crack a grin of her own as she watched her mother completely overwhelmed by the boisterous pair. Finally, after the barrage of sentences fragments and half questions slowed, the elder Dox gently pulled free, adjusting her uniform top she cleared her throat. "Well... I can certainly see where Mona gets her affectionate nature."

In spite of the words, there was no sarcasm in her tone as it was sincere. While she had tried to be evasive and distant when they first talked, with Jaeih completely prepared to hate her Daughter's chosen mate, Mona was functionally impossible to not like and Jaeih had become quite fond of her impending Daughter-in-law.

"Well... how to put this... my 'husband', and I use the term loosely, is in a Penal colony on Earth." Jaeih added. "It was a marriage of... well... It's inordinately complicated, but suffice it to say, he is not Mnhei'sahe's father and has nothing to do her, which is for the best. As for the status and location of her actual father, that is currently unknown."

Taking a moment to collect her thoughts and try and suss out which questions she could actually understand, the Romulan woman continued. "I am not a competent cook in any capacity, which Mnhei'sahe can attest to, and I serve on this ship in the capacity of an intelligence... consultant."

Then Jaeih's tone shifted to a more pleasant, if slightly forced and overly formal one. "And yes, I am quite pleased that they have found each other. Mona is quite exceptional and is extremely skilled. I have enjoyed our time together."

Leaning in, Mnhei'sahe realized just how confusing her history must be and how oddly her Mother's mannerisms must seem to Mona's family. Clearing her throat slightly, she had an extremely awkward grin on her face showcasing her rising anxiety.

"Oh no worries, sweeties." "Few enough of our chicks knew their parents either." "Complicated family situations abound in our line of work." "The Moon Goddess provides for those without." The pair rattled on like that for a few more minutes, praising the Moon Goddess and patting both Dox's and heaping blessings upon them as they did so as Mona's expression just sank. This was the part of them that she had hoped to avoid.

Listening, Mnhei'sahe noticed Mona's own concerns and shot her love a reassuring smile. Maybe 8 plus months ago when she had first joined the Hera she would had dismissed the concept of a 'Moon Goddess' out of hand, but she had since met a few Gods and Goddesses and become friends with Hera herself and the embodiment of Death. So the idea of a Moon Goddess existing wasn't quite as absurd to her as it once might have been. Her smile was warm and while they weren't physically touching, she hoped Mona could feel her love from the other side of the foyer.

However, Jaeih Dox had no such cosmic experiences and had taken in her fill of what she thought of as nonsense. "Moon Goddess? What's this all about now?"

As she spoke, Mnhei'sahe's face sank to match Mona's.

Mona interrupted before her foster parents could get going, explaining who or what the Moon Goddess was. "Ah, if I may. The Miradonian Moon Goddess is the larger silver moon, Minay, and what we base our faith on. The small dark moon is the Trickster, Nicoo’la, and he likes to vanish and only make appearances either at sunrise, sunset, or during eclipses. The blessings of the Moon Goddess are that you can find your way even when the Trickster is about. Always guiding, always shining, always watching over us."

As Mona bowed her head after her own statement of penitence, her foster parents had a rare moment of silence as they too bowed their heads.

And Mnhei'sahe took that moment to lock squinted eyes with her mother and silently mouth 'shut up' in the two women's native Rihan while running two fingers actoss her lips in the semi-universal gesture that reinforced her message.

As she did, Jaeih scoffed, rolled her eyes and mouthed silently back in Rihan, 'fine.'

“Well, of course the Federation supports all religions,” Paris spoke up to break the tension when the bowed heads rose once more. "At least, those that do not practice harm upon others, so we will be happy to welcome the Moon Goddess to the ceremony.”

As Rita spoke, Mnhei'sahe had to stifle an awkward chuckle as she realized that with the Hera's track record, there was a moderately decent chance that Mona's Moon Goddess could actually appear. Stranger things had happened on the calamity-prone Starship. But she quickly put the ridiculous thought out of her head.

At which point, Paris changed the subject, steering the in-laws away from a potentially hazardous subject with Mrs. Dox, whom Rita assumed to be a pragmatic atheist. “Will you folks be requiring any special ingredients you may not have packed for the preparations? And I believe we can expand the kitchen in here without any trouble at all. If you just let us know what you need, the Hera is here to accommodate during this blessed event. You need something, you just let me know and let me handle it, all right?”

"Little Mona said that we could get all of our ingredients locally," Began mammy as they pulled a datapad out of their overalls and handed it over to Rita.

Pappy continued the thought. "There's quite a few of them, but they shouldn't be too hard to find."

"As for the kitchen..." "It just needs to be bigger." "Maybe add in a full size oven..." "Full size grill..." "Enough room for the two of us..." "If you have a better place for us to cook..." "Someplace closer to the venue..." "That might be better." "We could set up our deep fryer there and get the oil prepped first thing in the morning." "We will need at least sixty liters of bacon oil to fill it." "If that's not too much of a hassle." "Ah, vegetarian options dear." "Right, of course. In that case..." "We'll need sixty liters of truffle oil." "Everything has to be perfect for our little Mona and her wedding day." "You can't have a Miradonian wedding without Miradonian deep fried corn and egg vittlins for the after party."

In her own inimitable style Rita Paris radiated the ‘can-do’ confidence that inspired those around her, and spoke in the reassuring tones that indicated to a listener that she was both serious and honestly dedicated to the task at hand. Thus she turned to the most anxious of brides and did what she always did- made a plan on the spot. With nothing to do, anxiety would wind Mnhei'sahe Dox up until she was a nervous wreck- which meant that she needed something to do. “Is there something going on tonight, Miss Dox, or are we still in the preparation stage with arrivals and arrangements?”

Appreciating Rita's help, Mnhei'sahe tried to calm herself down and focus on something other than breaking her mother's nose... again. "Uh... I..." She stammered for a minute before regaining some semblance of composure. "I don't think anyone else is coming, so aside from the others from the crew that will be in attendance, we should be set, I think. Mona has the plans for the rehearsal and I... Uh... but I don't..."

The words seemed to be pouring out of her mouth faster than she could think of what she was saying. "Uh... what are our plans tonight?" She turned towards Mona with a nervous expression.

Leaning slightly in the panicked pilot's direction, the lost navigator mumbled out of the side of her mouth at a volume that would be unintelligible to most. But Rita Paris was accustomed to working with sensitive ears. Then she rethought it, took Dox by the shoulders and peered into her eyes.

"Tonight's the wedding rehearsal, then the rehearsal dinner. Then comes the bachelorette party- which," The mod throwback officer turned to make eye contact with the Miradonian parental units. "Mammy, Pappy, you are invited, of course, to come kick up your heels if you like, as we're neither speciesist nor ageist."

Turning back to fix the Romulan aerospace ace with those big baby blue eyes, the fetching first officer shook Dox by the shoulders, twice. "Tomorrow is your wedding day, to the most remarkable and wonderful woman in the universe. So, this is just my thought but... this occasion could be so much better if you could just... calm down, relax, and enjoy it."

"You are amongst family. This is your wedding. We'll all pitch in, use our gifts, make our contributions, and the two of you," Paris released one shoulder, only to draw in Mona, moving the two of them together physically and laying 'Rita Paris Speech' on them both.

"The two of you are going to have an amazing wedding, with mishaps and missed schedules and problems and catastrophes. Just like everyone else's weddings, and we'll all tell stories for years to come about it. The important thing is that it's a celebration, of two coming together. Not an inspection. Not a test in which you can somehow be found wanting."

The awkward expression on Mnhei'sahe's face relaxed just a little as Rita's words began to penetrate her proverbial shields, aided by being in physical contact with Mona again. She chuckled slightly at Rita's joke as she felt Mona's energy bolstering her own and helping the both of them calm down.

"It's your wedding, but it is all of our celebration. We'll take care of everything. You just show up where we send you, and have a good time." Paris finished out her speech with a somewhat serious face. "I don't want to have to make it an order, hm?" At that, the Starfleet siren broke into a smile, and pulled both of the lovebirds into an embrace.

With a more relaxed smile, Mnhei'sahe hugged her chosen sister back and half-jokingly replied, "Aye, Commander." with a throaty laugh.

Watching the exchange further cemented for Jaeih Dox just why her daughter had put so much trust in a human, and her own facade cracked enough to allow a slight smile out.

The plans for the separate Bachelorette parties for the wedding of Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox and Ensign Mona Gonadie had been laid out, and quite well detailed, by the Hera's fulsome first officer, Rita Paris.

Because, while Mnhei'sahe and Mona were both extremely skilled pilots and inventive tinkerers who were deeply in love, Bachelorette parties tended to be very much about relaxation. And Rita Paris knew both of her friends well enough to know that they had very different ways of relaxing.

So, while the U.S.S. Hera was still docked at the Captain's Artan Family Fortress, they would take advantage of the amenities available. Paris would escort Mona, the Captain's wife Maica, and Chief Engineer and very pregnant Andorian Thex to a luxurious spa retreat for the evening. All the amenities for a perfectly relaxing evening of serene bliss, before the biggest of big days tomorrow.

In somewhat stark contrast, Rita knew the red-headed Romulan pilot Mnhei'sahe Dox even better. Dox relaxed in a very different way, which is how she found herself walking through the promenade of the station with the two aggressive officers who were the Hera's Klingon sisters of security, S'Rina and V'nus.

Having met with the sisters often to spar and train, they all knew one another well enough to make them the ideal candidates to watch the bride-to-be's back, considering what their plans entailed. But the trio was largely quiet as they walked in civilian clothes through the busy station.

Dox was wearing black hiking boots, black cargo pants and a snug black turtleneck with her favorite short, green denim jacket over it. Her comm badge was concealed beneath the jacket as they saw who they were meeting for the evening.

As it turned out, Captain Enalia Telvan and her Adjunct, the Baroness Schwein von Alcott had both expressed an interest in joining Dox, an Artan Baroness as well, but couldn't get away from the rather pressing business of restructuring the Artan pirate family in the wake of the tribunal. But the Captain and Baroness offered an alternate suggestion, and waiting together in front of a particularly seedy looking drinking establishment was the young, silver-haired Baroness with cybernetic arms, Sarika. And at her side, Captain Magnus of the Artan family.

Sarika was in a red and black long coat with a high neck that covered her thin frame and most of her cybernetics. Leather gloves covered her hands to try to conceal the rest. As for Magnus, it seemed the large Trill man never went anywhere without that blue and gold jacket of his, and judging by the added gold stitching to it and his pants, he likely had a few more war wounds since the last time he and Dox had met.

Sarika was the first to wave in greeting to the trio, easily spotting them in the neon-lit alleyway. "What are you bitches doing lollygagging around these parts? This here's Artan turf, you know." Mocking seriousness for just a moment, she broke out laughing before slapping Dox on the shoulder. "Come on now! Let's get you good and drunk and see how many faces we can punch! A few of our crews run these rows, so we can have all the fun we want tonight!"

The two Klingon Amazons flanking Dox turned to each other as V'nus whispered in her native tongue to her sister. "The Commander was right. This one will be difficult to not want to kill."

"Did she just call us what I think she called us? Is this not an assault on both our honor and that of the Lieutenant?" S'Rina shot back, fists balling in preparation for the first brawl of the night.

"No, look- the Lieutenant is not offended," V'Nus observed, ever the calmer of the duo. "Perhaps it is a pirate... thing. We are not here to defend honor, my sister. Remember our orders and follow them, and the Commander will be pleased. That is how we defend our honor this night, S'Rina."

Under her breath, S'Rina muttered a few select Klingon curses, and returned to keeping an eye out for ambushes or threats to the wedding party.

"Ah, but let's try not to get the local authorities involved again, please?" Magnus rolled his eyes as the cybernetic terror seemed to want to cause all the mayhem. "If we try to burn the district down again..."

"Right right... No fires, murders, rapes, theft, wanton destruction of property..." Sarika listed off the offenses on one hand.

The Klingon sisters exchanged expressions that made it clear that they were surprised by the list of offenses, and the ridged brows came down a bit more in determination.

"And, uh, no getting drunk for me, Sarika. Synthehol is good," Dox commented awkwardly. While the Romulan pilot could drink with the best of them, she had been making serious efforts to curb her drinking as it had begun to become problematic, spurring self-destructive thoughts and actions and she wanted to be better for Mona. But she was tempted, to be sure.

There was a look of relief on Magnus' face, but Sarika was disappointed. It didn't dampen her spirits for long though. "Aww... That's less fun... But that means more booze for me, and we can drink more of it, right?" With her question, she poked one of the Klingon sisters in the ribs and pointed towards their first bar. "Now let's get drinkin'! The tab's on the Family, so don't worry about pukin'!"

There was a rumbling growl from the Klingon sisters as S'Rina reached for the finger that had poked her, even as Dox interposed herself to try to smooth out the situation. "Sounds like a plan, Baroness. Lead the way, and let's not get the fun started too soon, ladies..."

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

"Let's get the fun started, ladies!"

In a significantly quieter and more ornately decorated wing of the Artan orbital fortress, the Hera's other bride to be, Ensign Mona Gonadie, was walking with a bag over her shoulder to a decidedly different destination. At her side was her longtime friend, Commander Rita Paris.

With the duo was the ship's Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Commander Thex sh'Zorathi and the wife of the ship's Captain, the holographic lifeform, Maica. The four woman, all dressed casually and comfortably, made their way to a posh-looking and an entirely luxurious spa for an evening of extreme pampering.

Despite the goal of going to a relaxation spa, Thex was having a hard time relaxing. With her current condition and her now officially being on medical leave, she was slowly being driven crazy. Not being able to do her work or hobbies was getting on her nerves, so hopefully, this would help her relax.

"Welcome to the Misty Visions relaxation spa," explained the gender-neutral holographic attendant. "Here we will tend to the mind, the body and the soul, to relax you and prepare you to face life's hardships with a serene and peaceful experience. Before we move into the hot springs to begin washing your troubles away, may we offer you a refreshment? We have an extensive selection of sparkling water, or perhaps some chilled Arborean light wine?"

"Ah... Some of your Andorian Berry Infused Sparkling Ice Shelf water for me, please," Mona requested, squinting at first the menu, then at the holographic attendant. She then shook her head and instead focused on those with her, which also happened to include a holographic life form.

Sighing, the brightly plumed Miradonian hung her head. "Right about now would be a good time to not have the visual acuity of a small sensor platform. Maybe I should invent eyewear that filters light down to where holographics don't look like ghostly images to me."

Maica's expression at hearing this confession was slightly horrified. "That... sounds horrific... You can't even see me like everyone else can?"

"I could count your scanlines, color depth, and refresh rate if I wanted to," Mona confirmed. "Just at a glance though? They're all at least thirty times higher than this guy so you have that going for you." As she confirmed that last, she motioned to the attendant getting them checked in.

Patting Maica's shoulder, Rita offered a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Maica. To plain old human eyes you look like the rest of us biologicals. Well, except for the figure that exists in defiance of gravity, and the flawless skin, and the perfect teeth and the hair that always looks like you planned it that way..." Realizing she was talking her way out of reassurance, Paris changed topics. "So we'll have what the bride to be is having, please. And someone mentioned hot springs?"

"Indeed madame. We offer the finest in volcanic hot springs, and you will find out cleansing mud baths will make your pores tingle and your skin practically glow. If you would care to accompany me?" the attendant gestured down a hallway and began moving in that direction.

"Thex," Rita murmured, keeping her voice down to express concern. "Hot springs won't be a problem for you and the wee ones, will it?"

"Not at all. In fact, on Andor there's a sacred hot spring on the north pole that said to help expecting mothers." The Andorian said as she took a sip from her water.

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

"That Synthohol lacks HONOR!" S'Rina shouted towards the bride to be in the seedy dive bar Sarika had led the group into. They were already several drinks in and the effects were beginning to show- at least, for S'Rina, the more outwardly aggressive and expressive of the pair. The muscular Klingon security officer took a swig of her massive flagon of Bloodwine before slamming the still mostly filled cup on the bar in front of Dox. "Here! This is a WARRIOR'S drink! And I know you to be a warrior!!"

Looking at the huge drink while her Klingon companion shouted an order to the bartender for another, Dox's resolve to not drink was waning considerably, not wanting to be the person at the party for her that was dragging it down. And after all, she thought, I'm out here to let go and just relax. She looked up and met the eyes of the Klingon sisters and the pirates. She didn't want to lose any of the respect she had earned in their training sparring sessions in the Hera's gym, or throughout the Tribunal. Both worlds needed to see for themselves that she could stand with them and party.

Grabbing the mug, Dox shouted back a toast that directly translated to 'may your blood scream'at the Klingon security officers in their native Klingon tongue in which she was fluent.

"IwlIj jachjaj!!" And with that, she took a massive chug of the bloodwine.

"Q'APLA!" the Klingon security officers shouted in unison, and S'Rina clapped the lieutenant on the back. "Now we have wine, so we need song!

Sarika cheered as well, downing her mug of firewine while Magnus just shook his head, nursing his cider. "Barkeep! Another round and fire up the music machine! We're singing all the songs!" The cybernetic pirate was anything, if not enthusiastic.

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

"Would you all like some soothing orchestral music to ease your mind and aid in your relaxation?" the attendant who hovered nearby offered solicitously as the quartet bathed in the hot springs, feeling the tension melt away.

Maica glanced up from her resting spot on the rocks in the hot spring to address him. "Ooh, I just loaded up the latest Koldarian orchestrations in the fortress database the other day. Why don't we listen to one of them?"

"Sounds good to me," Mona replied, not even moving from her spot, almost floating in the volcanic spring waters, cucumber slices over her eyes. "I have to ask though... You're Holographic... Is this actually relaxing to you?"

Maica made a selection on the datapad that the attendant offered and nodded as the soft, lilting music began to play. "Rest and relaxation is just as necessary to me as any biological life form. It may not work any tension out of my muscles, but the psychological effects are the same. This may surprise you, but I actually sleep and dream as well."

Mona pursed her lips for a moment before replying. "I... Think I may have a few misconceptions I need to reconsider... I knew you were a real person, but I didn't know how much like an organic life form you were."

"I'm guessing, and please do correct me if I'm wrong, Maica, but it makes sense to me that the relaxation part comes from being amongst other sentients out in the universe." Rita Paris speculated, the topic of conversation having piqued her curiosity. As she spoke, the reeds and strings equivalent of the alien orchestra began to play, slowly building in the background, accompanying the conversation.

"As a social being, you thrive on contact with other sentient life because instead of being self-contained- I mean, again, I make broad assumptions, but I imagine that you have access to any number of works of literature and art and music. You recall them with crystal clarity in their entirety. But it's interacting with other sentient life and sharing your thoughts, opinions, considerations, likes and dislikes that is far more interesting and satisfying to you. No one is an island, as they say?" Speaking frankly and honestly, Rita hoped she wasn't horribly wrong or being somehow offensive.

Maica chuckled softly - a somewhat musical sound. "That's it, actually. Mentally social relaxation and good company. It's one of the reasons I have a massage parlor on the Hera. I get to meet and talk with all sorts of wonderful people. Though I have to admit, it does feel a bit unusual being on the other side of the spa treatment."

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

"BREAK ON THROUGH, TO THE OTHER SIDE!! BREAK ON THROUGH, TO THE OTHER SIDE!!BREAK!! BREAK!! BREAK!! BREAK!! BREAK!! BREAK!! BREAK!! BREAK!! BREAK!!!! Standing on the small, rickety stage in the corner of the crowded bar, Dox crouched arm in arm with Sarika as the two slightly inebriated Baronesses shouted out the end of an ancient Earth song.

For the Romulan woman who only spent a few years on Earth reluctantly before joining Starfleet Academy, the one affectation that she had picked up was an appreciation for the louder side of the musical spectrum. Laughing, Dox and Sarika hopped down from the stage and grabbed what was likely her fourth bloodwine. "Who's next?"

"Your tale of storming the gates to break through is a lovely ballad for children, Lieutenant," V'Nus declared as she approached the stage, taking the microphone. "Let me sing you a warrior's song."

As the Klingon death metal began to thunder through the speakers, S'Rina headbanged along, her long plaited hair whipping up and down in a beaded wave that began to irritate nearby bargoers as it slapped at them in passing. By the time the elder sister on stage began singing in a long, low roar, S'Rina had already thrown the first elbow, and begun what was to her a simple extension of Klingon music- a mosh pit.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PE9YtatlXVE

"Nice! That's 'Lw Ro'!" Dox turned to Sarika, shouting over the road as best as possible. " Basically 'Death Fist'... I've got a mix I train to that has three of their albums on it!" As she spoke, a drunken patron was flung towards her by the chaos of the pit and she pulled herself and her bloodwine just out of the way of the flailing form.

"HA!!! Missed me, ya' Kreldanni..." The seemingly drunk Romulan shouted right as she caught the elbow of another mosher in the jaw.

Catching that their charge had just been elbowed in the face, V'Nus leapt from the stage to grab the drunk brawler by the front of his shirt. "THAT face is off limits! You touch her face and I touch YOURS!" At which point the rowdy Klingon dropped the man to the deck with a quick and powerful headbutt, followed by a fearsome amplified roar into the microphone as the chaos intensified.

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

"The stimu-scalp massage eases the tensions, of the day, smoothing out those forehead wrinkle lines and just carrying you away to a land of peaceful coexistence and universal harmony," the soothing voice of the masseuse intoned as they worked.

"You know, ladies, I really had no idea just how much I needed this," Paris admitted, sipping on a fruity concoction, basking in the simulated warm sunshine with hot rocks on her chakra points and her cares being massaged away while someone took a dermal disruptor to the callouses on her feet that built up over time from her habit of wearing heels. "I wonder if the barhoppers are having a good time?"

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

Hopping over the top of the bar, Dox slid into a kick, slamming against a drunken Bajoran freighter pilot that was trying to smash Captain Magnus over the head with a half-empty mug of Irish stout.

Appearing to be just a little drunk now, but focused from the action, the red-headed Romulan let out a laugh as she scrambled back over the top and shouted to Sarika, who was busy dealing with some drunkards of her own, "Commander Paris was right, I really had no idea just how much I needed this!"

With which she threw herself over on top of a trio of brawlers, landing elbow-first on the men with a wicked grin and a throaty laugh.

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

“So he looks at me, and says ‘Your demeanor and manner are unbecoming a lady. You remind me of a harpy- and so a harpy you shall become!’ Then he waves his hand, and- I kid you not- my arms grow out into feathered wings, my feet turn into giant chicken feet and my body gets covered with feathers. So I look at him and try to talk, and all that comes out is this horrendous screeching. I notice that he doesn’t seem to like the sound, so I just start yelling at him, which is all coming out as this horrendous shrieking, and finally he reneges and changes me back, because he said I made too good a harpy!”

Finishing up her tale of one of the bizarre adventures she had experienced in her varied and eventful career, Rita Paris laughed musically, and the bridal party laughed with her. She had taken to round robin storytelling, to include everyone, and all involved were now caught up in telling unbelievable adventures they had experienced in their careers. Which of course tended to be comedic in hindsight, spreading good-natured laughter in their wake.

“Okay Mona, your turn. Weirdest away mission you’ve ever been on…?

"Oh goodness... It would have to be the scanning mission in the Danu with my Minay over that worldship. We ran across some sort of winged primates led by a green woman wearing a black robe riding a cleaning instrument using ignited fecal matter as projectiles." Mona chuckled softly at the memory. "You really do run into some odd things out there, don't you? Ah, Maica... Since you're photonic, do you go on away missions?"

"Ah, no, not really..." Maica giggled at the question. "But I could tell you about my weirdest sibling. Most of us choose our basic form or at least something similar. One is an Orion male, another a genderless Bolian, another a Vulcan female... But one of us decided that all of that was too non-conforming and now resides in Memory Alpha as a column of intelligent light, acting as a librarian for the vast knowledge repositories of not only the Federation, but for the public Klingon, Romulan, Cardassian, Ferengi, and a few other databases out there."

"Now that's impressive..." Mona couldn't imagine anyone abandoning every identifiable form and feature and just existing as pure light like that. "Ah, Thex, it's your turn. What's your weirdest away mission?"

" Has to be the time when I was the tekkie for the intel mission on..." The Andorian said before pausing. " Well, the locations still classified. The mission was spying on some members of the Orion syndicate one of whom did all of her business in one of the local Orion clubs. So Intel made one of the best listening devices ever made. This thing could detect DNA, sound, see-through cloaks and even leave a trace to follow targets with. Well, the team gets it installed and it refuses to work. Now given I was the team member with the most tech skills they needed me to take a look at it, but given it was located in the middle of an Orion dance club I couldn't just walk right in and fix it. "

The andorian took a sip of her water before she continued. " So I have to get week crash course in Orion dancing, mannerisms and learn how to hide repair tools in an Orion dancing outfit. Day of the operation comes and I get brought in as a supposed wannabe dancer. When I finally get a chance to look at the bug and it turns out that the idiot who installed it had out the power circuitry in the wrong way round. I'm relieved I didn't just burst out laughing on the spot."

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

Several levels away from the chaos that the bridal shower had caused, Dox, Sarika, Magnus, V'Nus and S'Rina laughed over a round of drinks in a new bar. Once the situation had gotten too rowdy and station security had been called, the towering Klingon sisters had sprung into action to enact the most important order they had been given by Security Commander Rita Paris: Make sure Mnhei'sahe Dox didn't get arrested the night before her wedding.

So, even though retreat from a fight was anathema to Klingon warriors, they were also dedicated Starfleet security officers who understood that their honor this night was fulfilled in protecting their very happy, quite drunk charge. The red-headed Romulan looking across the bar into the mirrored barback, rubbing her cheek. "Hnaev... are you sure your dermal regenerator took care of the black eye, 'Rika? I can't believe I walked right into that Nausiccan's fist like an amateur. Mona's gonna kill me if this shows tomorrow."

Sarika just shrugged it off as she downed some more firewine. "Aye, it did. I'd be more worried about the hangover, myself. As for those Kreldanni bitches, I'll make sure there's no hard feelin's next time we do business with 'em."

Taking a swig of her during, Dox chuckled. "And you curse in Romulan, too. Imirrhlhhse... I knew I liked you for a lot of reasons, 'Rika."

"No one got arrested, the bars are still standing, and nothing is on fire... On top of all that, we got in a great bar fight with some old friends, some new friends, and drank a lot of grog." Magnus mused, the bear of a Trill grinning ear to ear. "I'd call tonight a rousing success so far. Wanna finish off the night strong with a combat kettle?"

"A combat kettle? What's that, Captain?" Dox asked, cricking her eyebrow at Magnus.

"It's the best way to remember a night and forget your worries!" Magnus waved to the bartender with a shit-eating grin. "Barkeep! Bring us a combat kettle for the bride to be!"

Within moments, the equivalent of a small keg was slammed on the counter in front of Dox and the barkeep started pouring bottles of booze from all planets into it. About a third of the way up he stopped and filled another third with rice wine. He then topped it off with a red fruit punch and ice. Grinning, he dropped in a straw for each of them and one of those little martini umbrellas that just looked ridiculous hanging off the side. "Enjoy!"

"THAT is a combat kettle!" Magnus declared proudly as Sarika was laughing her ass off. "The straws are so we can help you drink it. Maybe."

Her eyes went wide as Dox took in the ludicrous sight. "By Al'thindor..."

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

“Great bird of the galaxy, I really needed that. Outstanding suggestion make the bachelorette party a spa day, Maica,” the ebullient Rita Paris declared as the quartet made their way back to the Hera at a slow and relaxed pace. “That was far better than a loud bar and drinking and brawling and who knows what else. I’ll be surprised if Dox doesn’t show up tomorrow for the wedding with a new tattoo…”

The look on Mona's face was one of horror as Rita said those words. "Drinking? New tattoo? Oh Moon Goddess protect her... If she comes back with a black eye or something that ruins the lines of her dress..." She fussed for a moment before taking a deep breath and letting the relaxation of the spa return her to her normal zen calm. "But she's responsible... I'm sure she's okay, and not loudly roaring some metal song, stumbling through the streets with some random Baroness."

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

The promenade of the Artan Family Fortress was all but empty now, with most of the shops, restaurants and bars closed for the night. It was a quiet and somewhat serene scene, but for the entourage of women making their way back to the docked starship.

The Klingon sisters, V'Nus and S'Rina were engaged in a song with the silver-haired pirate, Sarika, whom the pair had decided not to kill as she fought and drank well.

At the front of the group, Mnhei'sahe walked next to the Artan Captain Magnus, the man that officially inducted her into the organization as a Baroness and bequeathed her personal ship to her. In spite of the amount of alcohol she had drank, the young Romulan woman looked calm and fairly clear-headed.

Magnus was also unusually clear-headed, having only drank beer and ale most of the night. He still had a decent buzz going from helping with that combat kettle, but he could see that Dox was not as smashed as he would have expected, unlike the other three that were singing some Klingon metal song at the top of their lungs as they headed back to port.

"You had a hypo of anti-intoxicants before heading out, didn't you?" he asked with a sly grin, realizing she had used the same trick he often did when he went out drinking with crewmates so he could make sure they didn't get arrested or worse.

Looking up at the bear of a Trill, Dox had a wry grin. She gestured back at the singing Klingons far enough away not to hear anything, even if they weren't singing. "Don't tell them, please. It took me sparring with them every week and occasionally winning to get what respect I've got out of them as it is."

Then she looked back at the gentle face of the man who exuded an almost fatherly feeling. "I... don't like who I become when I drink too much, Captain. And Mona... my bond-mate... We share an empathic and now telepathic bond when we touch. I won't share that with her. I don't ever want her to feel me when I'm like that, so I don't drink anymore."

"Ah, understandable. That's a choice I can respect. Hopefully you got in enough fun tonight for a good long while then, aye?" Magnus gave her a fatherly pat on the back, his meaty hand covering a surprising portion of it.

"I did, thank you." Dox got slightly melancholy as she talked, bit there was something about the man that she trusted. That drew her out a little. "We have a lot in common. We're both pilots at heart. We both like fixing things. But this... This part of me, how I grew up. It's different. I'M different. There's a part of me that will always fit in here maybe a little better."

Then she looked back up and smiled. "But just a part. I think I finally know where my real home is. And it's where I want to be." Gazing up at the genial giant, Mnhei'sahe smiled even broader. "Thank you again, Captain."

“When we lost the Princess to Starfleet, many of us feared we’d lose her, that she would change. I feared that she would be lost to us, and that Baroness von Alcott wouldn’t be able to keep her safe from our enemies,” Magnus admitted quietly. “But meeting her crew and her officers, taking their measure and seeing you all working together to protect her, I think I understand a bit more now why she chose Starfleet. Now I know that our queen is in good hands.”

Reaching over, the tall Trill captain pulled the short Romulan into a side shoulder hug. “Thank you for that, Baroness Dox. You’ve put an old man’s fears to rest.”

Leaning into the hug, Dox smiled. "She protects us, we protect her. It's really simple... The Hera is a family, Captain."

Smiling, Dox turned over her shoulder to look at the sisters and Sarika still laughing amongst themselves. "And this family. The Artan family. This is a part of that family as well. And we are stronger together. Greater than the sum or our parts. And we will continue to fight for that family we have chosen. I will stand with Enalia Telvan until my time is done, we all will because she'll stand with us."

Then, as she spoke, she let out a chuckle. "If only there were some METAPHOR for that happening tomorrow. Which I seriously need to get some rest before." Looking up, she smiled awkwardly. "You'll be there, right?"

“As I understand it, your mother is walking you down the aisle. If that weren’t the case, I’d walk you down the aisle myself, Baroness,” the broad-shouldered pirate captain explained, his deep voice filled with sincerity. “There were some doubts when the Princess brought you into the ranks- but you’ve definitely earned your place in the Artan family fleet.”

For the first time in a while, Mnhei'sahe Dox didn't have any doubts of her own as she nodded and said 'Thank you'. She no longer, at least for the moment, felt torn between the two worlds of her service to Starfleet and her place in the Artan family. By maintaining her honor as a Starfleet officer above all else, she was able to be the best she could be of both families in the Tribunal. And moving forward, that's what she was going to be.

As she continued to walk, her smile was genuine and her heartfelt. She knew who she was and who she wanted to be. And beyond it all, who she wanted to be with throughout it all. And that smile got just a little bit wider.

Maica had run around getting everything on the flight deck set up for the past couple days according to Mona's plans, coordinating with every department, the ship's chef, Mona's own foster parents, the computer, and even the Artan Fortress to make sure the wedding would go off without a hitch. Last night she had gone out with Mona, Rita, and Thex to the spa to relax and trusted that the last few remaining things could be handled in the morning, but...

There was still a lot left to be done and someone had parked and torn apart the engine of a civilian shuttle right in the middle of the reception area an hour before the wedding was about to start. Rather than complaining to the department head about the lack of intelligence that the flight deck engineers had just shown, she called Enalia in.

The spotted Captain glared at the sight of the engines that had been partially disassembled and the two crewmen that were responsible standing at attention. "You will remove this immediately, you will clean up this mess, and you will NOT interrupt this wedding again. Understood?"

"YES MA'AM!" They both called out simultaneously.

"DISMISSED!" Enalia called out, spurring them into action, one of them picking up parts and tools, tossing them into the craft as the other headed for the flight deck tractor control to haul the craft to one of the maintenance lifts.

Pausing long enough to rub the bridge of her nose, Enalia leaned against her holographic wife for comfort and support. "An hour before a wedding and they think it's a good time to clean out the plasma injectors on a class seven shuttle?"

"At least no one has spiked the punch yet..." Maica added, rubbing Enalia's back and straightening her lapel. Maica was already in her white dress and Enalia was in her white dress uniform, but at this rate, they might need to change before the actual ceremony if things kept going the way they were.

"I'd better get on it then," Enalia grinned that piratical grin of hers and slipped Maica a kiss and a wink as she headed off. "I'm going to check on the two brides. Let me know if you need anything else!"

"Will do, my love!" Maica waved happily for a moment before rushing off as well, heading towards the buffet line - more specifically, the pair of rotund Miradonians and their deep fryer. "Oh please tell me you didn't cook someone..."

Chuckling softly, Enalia tapped her comm badge. "Telvan to Paris. It's time to check on the brides to make sure everything is ok and see if there's anything they need last minute. I'm going to check on Mnhei'sahe. Do you mind checking on Mona?"

“Blushing bride to be report in progress, Captain. I’ll make sure she’s taken care of and get our lovebird to the altar on time,” Paris replied, indicating to Lieutenant Provenzale to take the conn as she departed the bridge. She had to get going anyway, as she herself would need to change into something other than her anachronistic duty uniform for the wedding, she suspected. Or they might want her to attend in her uniform- whatever the call, Rita would abide for the special day of the two lovebirds.

Taking the lift down to Deck 4, she strode out into the corridor that met up with the Flight Deck, and approached the conference room that had been converted into a dressing room for one of the brides, while elsewhere there was another for the ebullient Miss Dox. Along the way she mused to herself that she was thoroughly unaware of Miradonian or Romulan marital ceremonies. So it could be either, or, a combination of both or they might have adapted to more earth-style traditions to enact the ritual of their declaration of bonding to the universe colloquially known on earth at least as a wedding day.

Approaching the door, Rita suspected that Mona Gonadie’s exuberant and enthusiastic parents may have been tending to her, but they might just as well be handling the catering. Tabbing the door chime, Rita waited patiently for the buxom befeathered beauty to reply and grant her entrance.

Mona was fussing with her dress and all but fighting the attendants that were trying to help her with it and the corset. "Come in!" she called as they cinched her down again.

The upward flowing dress started at a silvery blue pool at her feet and seemed to cascade upward like water. As it seemed to swirl around her gravid hips with slightly darker blue feathers, it transitioned into a scaled corset and joined more of the same shimmering blue and feathered fabric on her arms and around her buxom bosom that seemed to defy gravity even more, her own plumage marking a fine contrast as the high collar and back rose behind her head to fade into a mix of silver and midnight blue feathers, almost like a rising moon behind her.

"I designed this to fit so you'd think it would..." Mona huffed as she tried to catch her breath before they finished cinching the dress down the rest of the way.

Stepping inside, Rita took in the scene, analyzed it and chose her path. “Why Miss Mona, you look absolutely breathtaking! I’m here to help and ensure that you have everything you might need or desire for your big day. So, how can I help, what can I do or do you have enough cooks in the soup already?”

The brightly plumed aviatrix flounced for a moment before settling her gaze on Rita with a lost look. "I planned out as much as I could and we're already bonded and I know this is right in my heart but... I still have lizards in my belly... Why am I so nervous? My foster parents are out there and they're both going to walk me down the aisle, one on either side of me as per tradition while Maica watches their deep fryer. My Minay has her mother to do the same. The Captain is performing the Miradonian Bond Ceremony with you and Asa for the Romulan Bracelet ceremony... But I can't calm down..."

"C'mere," Rita said, opening her arms wide and offering a sisterly smile. "Give me a hug, then take a deep breath. Think you can manage that for a short term plan?"

Mona nodded and snuggled into a hug with Rita as best she could, her own prodigious bosom shelving underneath her first officer's fairly well as she did so. She then took a couple of deep breaths, trying to ease her stomach lizards. "Thank you."

"Wedding jitters. Someone has to have them, so better you than Mnhei'sahe, eh?" Rita delicately soothed the feathers that weren't woven into a subtly elaborate updo, emphasizing the crown of her feathers. Then she pulled back a bit so the two could see eye to eye. "Perfectly reasonable. Would you like to know why? Because things go wrong at weddings and someone has to be worrying about them. So you are doing a GREAT job!"

Mona smiled softly, starting to calm down a little. "Well, she's the one that's usually worried like this and all nervous... They say that the longer a bonded pair are together, the more alike they are. I guess this is one of those things, right? I tried to plan for everything and now I'm worried about Maica and you and the Captain and Asa... So I guess I'm doing a good job of doing that, then."

Taking another deep breath, Mona closed her eyes and steeled herself, letting the energy of the bond flow through her and reassure her. Nodding, she smiled up at Rita again. "Ok... I guess there's nothing left but..." Glancing back at the attendants still floofing her dress feathers, she continued. "...but to do this then. I'm ready."

Placing her fingers under the chin of the brightly plumed aviatrix, Rita Paris looked deeply into those golden eyes. When she spoke, her voice was soft, barely above a whisper. "When I didn't know how to fly, you taught me. When I didn't know my station on the bridge, you showed me. When I asked for the impossible, you built it."

"You are one of the most amazing women I've ever met, Mona Dox. Now you're going to go out there and marry another one of the most remarkable women I've ever known, and you're going to do what you always do." Rita leaned in and gently placed a kiss on the forehead of the marvelous Miradonian.

"You're going to be great."

Mona blushed softly, a yellow tint gracing her soft facial feathers. "Well, I do my best and I have the help of the rest of the crew, you know. Starfleet is a team and no one is ever truly alone."

Then another thought hit her. "Ah, the names. Miradonian culture, we're keeping our last names and sharing a chosen middle name bestowed upon us by this ceremony. It's going to be t'Sendatu'onay which means 'mended wings'. Traditionally, our chicks would use that as their family name, but I'm not sure my Minay is up for that. Miradonian and Romulan are hard to pronounce on their own and combining them..."

The immediate reaction for Rita was sorrow for the poor kids, who could have grown up with a name pronounceable by every race in the galaxy, who were instead going to be saddled with a name that most of the galaxy wouldn't bother trying to pronounce. Which also meant that whatever accomplishments their parents might achieve, it wouldn't create a recognizable lineage for their children. Kind of hoped someday there might be a Paris serving alongside a Dox, but the line and the name ends with Mnhei'sahe. But that was all their choice, so outwardly Rita smiled and nodded.

"So how does this work, your folks come to escort you to the altar? I've never seen a Romulan or Miradonian wedding, so I'm pretty lost as to what to expect."

"My foster parents will flank me and escort me to the altar while Jaeih does the same for my Minay. From there, the holographics simulate the rising of the two moons, which all Miradonian weddings are supposed to take place under for the Moon Goddess's blessing. That and the holographic starscape will be the only light in the room so hopefully, my and my foster parents' eyes won't tweak out too badly from the holographics..." Mona mused for a moment before continuing. "Then the Captain says a few words, we say our vows, everyone present gets to see the physical embodiment of the bond between us... And the sun rises..."

“That sounds truly beautiful, Mona,” Rita smiled, a genuine and radiant smile of happiness for her two amazing friends who were preparing to start their lives together. “Have you considered some contact lenses to screen out the holographics for you and your folks?”

"I've been working on it or some sort of eyewear, but the variable polarization density is just... The Thunderchicken was easier to design..." The brightly plumed aviatrix hung her head for a moment before cheering up. "But at least I have a few prototypes and I'm making progress. The best of them make everything look just... Weird... But holograms at least look solid. That's progress, right?"

"Ah, but here we are talking about work and inventions and I'm about to have my bonding ceremony!" Mona cringed as she shook both hands in the air, her attendants finishing up on her dress as she did so. "There's more important things to worry about right now!"

“Then how about we get you to the church on time,” Rita began, then shook her head as she made the realization that would likely be confusing to the woman whose only time on Earth had been in Starfleet Academy. “Ah, sorry, old turn of phrase from my people. Let’s go see your lovely bride and have a nice ceremony, shall we?”


--------


A couple of the conference rooms had been converted into dressing rooms for each of the brides, and Enalia now found herself in Mnhei'sahe's to check on her. "Hey there. Mind if I come in and see how you're doing?"

Startled slightly, Mnhei'sahe turned quickly from the full-length mirror she had been standing in front of. "Captain? Uh... yes. Of course."

The anxious Romulan bride-to-be was fidgeting with the long sleeves of the stunning, golden yellow dress Mona had designed for the occasion. Clearly corseted, Dox' belly was contained in a deep plunging dress with flared golden feathers that looped around her upper arms, falling off the shoulders. The body was layered in a pattern that resembled overlapping feathers radiating out from the center of her chest and down to her waist where the dress flared out around her ample rear.

Flowing down, the dress bloomed into a bell shape of ribbon forms in a swirl of long, golden feathers that spread out on the ground before her, ending in a rim of sparkling gems. The entire design inspired by the representation of the Romulan bird of resurrection, Al'hindor.

Her short bobbed hair was swept back up into a swirl on the top rear of her head, with similar golden jewels forming a rim along her hairline on the sides of her face. It was a design that wasn't entirely unlike the freckle like patterns of spots on Mona's own face.

"Please, come in." Dox said to her commanding officer and friend.

Enalia was certainly impressed as she headed into the makeshift dressing room. "You look amazing. How do you feel?"

"I'm me... so nervous. I mean... We're already bonded. Empathically and more. So in a way this is just... a way of showing that to everyone. Sharing it. But I'm still so nervous anyway. I feel like my stomach is eating itself." Mnhei'sahe replied, speaking hi a bit too fast as she continued to fuss with the dress.

"Wedding day jitters. We all get them." Helping one of the attendants, Enalia adjusted some of the feathers on the back so they were floofier. "Maica was so nervous I thought she was going to decompile her lunch. You love each other and everything will be fine. The hard part will be not tripping as you walk up the aisle. Just remember... Right foo..."

"Left foot first, Captain," One of the attendants corrected her.

"Ah, well, good thing you have professionals here to coach you," Enalia added with a wink and a smile to the attendant.

"Wait, what? There's a correct foot to use first?!" The anxious young pilot blurted out, legitimately surprised. "I think I miss fighting the kreldanni pirates." She then muttered, cursing under her breath in her native Rihan.

"Oh yes... You'll be fine." Enalia chuckled softly as she handed the tool she was using back to the attendant. "I have a question about the ceremony part. I understand you're going with a combination of Romulan and Miradonian ceremonies and you have your own small vows as well as a middle name I'm to bestow on the two of you?"

"Huh... Yes. Right. Uh..." Dox was clearly in a fairly mild panic, which was almost comical to watch for someone who was almost unnaturally calm while flying the Hera into battle with space monsters or sword fighting with the aforementioned pirates. "Yes. Where is it?"

Scooching delicately but quickly over to the small table to the side of the room, the flustered Romulan grabbed a PaDD on the corner and called up a file. "Here it is. Okay, yes. The bulk of the ceremony is Miradonian, which I had Mona save out. I personally... I don't care for much of the Romulan ceremonies. Except for the bracelets. I had a pair of ceremonial bracelets made for Mona and I at one of the station jewelers."

As she talked, she called up and image for the Captain to see. "In the center, there's a clear crystal that has one of Mona's feathers braided with a lock of my hair, sealed. And the pearlescent black swirling metal that makes up both bands is... my mother actually asked for that from maintenance for me. It's a piece of the hull. The ship... it's... It's very important to me, so it seemed appropriate. And on the inside, it's engraved in Rihan and says 'Dhael nnea nveiss Aen'. Basically, 'birds of a feather'."

"I gave them to Asa, and they'll give one to Rita to present to us at the end." Dox added, still talking quickly.

From where they had been lounging indulgently at the back of the room, Asa sat up and gave a thumbs up to the pair of them, indicating they were locked and loaded on the bracelet front. The dutiful best friend was ready.

As Enalia studied the image, her smile softened. "They're beautiful. Not only that, but they're full of meaning and love."

"As for the naming ceremony, this came from Miradonian culture. When two are bonded, they choose a third name with significance. The couple take it as a middle name, but any... uh... any children could carry it as a last name. We chose 't'Sendatu-onay.' The 't' is a Romulan naming convention denoting a wife, basically, but the rest means 'mended wings'." the anxious aviatrix finished, starting to calm down as she spoke, thinking of Mona.

"Ah, that makes sense. t'Sendatu'onay... t'Sendatu'onay... t'Sendatu'onay..." Enalia practiced the pronunciation to herself a few times to make sure she had it committed to memory. "It's a beautiful name. Any children you would have would be beautiful as well."

"Well, you don't have to worry about remembering how to pronounce it much after the actual ceremony. It's mostly just for us." Dox added. "We're keeping our own last names. Two Dox's on the ship is confusing enough with my mother here. And I know that 't'Sendatu'onay' is a mouthful. Hell, 'Mnhei'sahe' is a mouthful."

Then Dox rolled her eyes slightly and sighed nervously at the thought of children. "I think... I don't... I know Mona has her heart set on children and... Uh... do you think so?"

Probably not just Mona, if she was honest with herself Asa mused silently with a smile.

"That you'll have beautiful children? I guarantee it. We have the goddess of matrimony and family aboard, after all." Enalia just chuckled softly at her own reference to the ship's namesake that lived a few decks below them.

"Well... I guess... I guess I need to take care of this part first." Mnhei'sahe turned back around and looked up at Enalia. She nodded firmly and tugged slightly on the front of the dress like it was her uniform top. She was blushing a light green and making a physical effort to not fidget.

Taking a long breath, Mnhei'sahe let it out with a long sigh and closed her eyes. In her mind's eye, as she concentrated, she could see the warm red glow that she knew as her own energy. Her own spirit. And swirled around it was the ever-present blue of Mona. A piece of her bond-mate that was always with her. She smiled as she opened her eyes and nodded. "I'm ready."

"Excellent," Enalia gently placed her hands on the sides of Dox's shoulders and squeezed ever so gently. "I'll see you out there momentarily then." With that, Enalia winked and headed out to get in place and start the ceremony.

As most of the wedding between Mnhei'sahe Dox and Mona Gonadie was Miradonian inspired, there was no podium for the captain to stand behind. There was very little backdrop to align herself with, either. To her back was the open cargo bay doors and a special holo-projector used in these ceremonies that's supposedly a lot more visible to Miradonian eyes. Timing was important in their wedding ceremonies so it was timed with the actual rotation of the two moons of their planet so that when they said their vows, the moons would align just like on Miradonia and their bond would somehow become visible to those present.

Enalia didn't know if or how it worked, but it was an interesting concept, nonetheless. As she centered herself on the group of seated crew in the center of the flight deck, she looked out at the buffet line and the giant deep fryer on her left, and the reception line to her right. On either side there was room for each bride to walk from the dressing rooms to the raised platform she now stood on and where the pair would exchange vows and the Romulan bands.

Stepping silently to the Captain's side, just away from the center was Asa Dael and Rita Paris. Mnhei'sahe had asked them to be a part of the ceremony as they had become the red-headed Romulan's family in her time aboard the Hera and each held one of the twin Romulan ceremonial bracelets that would be given to the air during the ceremony.

Just then the sound of a small gong went off over the intercom - the automated timer that had been set to make sure they timed everything perfectly. As the small band began playing the traditional Miradonian Tribal Wedding music, Enalia tugged down on her white dress uniform and pulled out the small paper and leather book she used for these ceremonies, opening it to the page with the appropriate speech.

That was when both brides came out of their dressing rooms, the music shifting as they did so. Mona was flanked on either side by her foster parents, looking like a skinny green parrot being crushed between the fattest blue parrots you'd ever laid eyes on, while Mnhei'sahe and her mother Jaeih were walking in step perfectly with the music but somehow still looking more green than Mona.

Enalia smiled reassuringly to each of them as they made their way up their respective aisles and finally rounded the front to finally be able to see each other.

Looking across the room, Mnhei'sahe locked eyes with Mona and for the young Romulan woman, it was as if time ceased to function. Frozen in the Miradonian's deep, amber eyes, Mnhei'sahe smiled warmly as she felt herself quiver ever so slightly. In that moment, their bond which had been growing in strength could almost be felt even without them touching. Jaeih, who had her daughters hand in her own, gave it a slight squeeze and a reassuring pump to snap Mnhei'sahe out of her momentary daze.

The pipe music all seemed so fitting, and when Rita saw the look on first Mona, then on Mnhei'sahe's faces, her eyes welled up with tears and she began struggling not to ugly cry. With a concentrated effort, she drew herself upright with military precision and Bravely handled her bridesmaid's duties.

Watching their closest friend marry her soul-mate brought such joy to Asa that the young doctor could barely contain their excitement and they were ever-so-slightly bouncing on their heels in anticipation of the ceremony. The smile splitting Asa's face in two was as large as it could go. The only slight damper to Asa's joy was worrying that their large El-Aurian style hat was going go from being at the traditional 45-degree angle to being all the way on the ground.

Those old holovids of Guinan did not prepare me for how annoying these things are. Ugh. No time for that now, can't screw up Mona and Mnhei'sahe's wedding! the doctor self-chastised.

As they stepped up onto the platform, the music died down and Enalia began her speech.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to confirm the bond between Mona Gonadie and Mnhei'sahe Dox and bestow upon them the traditions and blessings of their ancestors in sight of the Moon Goddess, Minay and the Trickster, Nicoo'la as well as the Great Phoenix, Al'thindor. Since they met each other, there has been a special connection between the two and it has continued to grow day by day, loving and supporting each other in all that they did, pushing each other to be better not only for the rest of the crew and each other, but for themselves as well, because to truly love someone you must first love oneself first. And as these two become one in the eyes of the Moon Goddess, so too shall they become one in our eyes today."

As Enalia spoke, the projector behind her activated and the larger silver moon rose behind her, large and bright. The smaller, dark moon faded into being as it got close to the ceiling, which the computer had replaced with a holographic rendition of the sunset over Miradonia, the reds and purples streaking across open sky. As the two moons slowly came together and touched, something else happened - a soft glow enveloped Mona and Dox and started to mingle together. One in a red, the other in blue. As they came together, a swirl of violet formed between them, growing in strength as the special projector behind Enalia continued to bring the two moons together.

"It is now time for the bonded pair to declare their own vows and exchange their marriage bracelets." Enalia bowed her head, indicating that it was time for Mona and Dox to do their parts in the ceremony.

Looking over to Rita and Asa, Mnhei'sahe nodded slightly. As she did, her two best friends stepped forward and handed her the pair of bracelets.

Handing the bracelet to the radiant bride, for a change, Rita Paris had nothing to say. Primarily because she did not trust herself to speak at the moment, for fear of emotional overload. And the wedding still had to go on. Instead, she just smiled, a close-lipped affair, and gripped Mnhei'sahe's hand as she presented the bracelet with which she had been entrusted.

As Asa handed the band to Mnhei'sahe they leaned over to whisper, "I love you both so much. Be happy all your days," before resuming their station at the Captain's side. At which point Rita started very quietly ugly crying.

Holding up both bracelets so Mona could see, Mnhei'sahe displayed the pearlescent black metal in twin swirls. Sculpted from a piece of the hull of the Hera herself they were wrapped around a visible band of clear crystal center that contains inside one of Mona's own feathers, braided with a lock of Mnhei'sahe's own deep red hair. On the inside of each band was etched in Dox's native Rihan, 'Dhael nnea nveiss Aen,' or 'birds of a feather.'

Handing Mona one of the bracelets, she slipped the other onto her bond-mates left wrist and spoke. And while the ships universal translators made sure all in attendance understood the words, Mnhei'sahe spoke in Mona's own native tongue of Miradonian, which she had been practicing intensely: "With this, I make our bond for all to see. We are one from today until the stars go cold. My light was incomplete until I found you, and in finding you found the part of myself that had always been missing. You are my bond-mate, my partner in all things, and my greatest friend. My family is yours as I am to yours. You are my Jhu Dhael. My radiant angel bird. And I love you with all of my heart more each day we are together. And as of this moment, we will never again be apart."

Mona was in awe of the bracelets as she took the one meant for her Minay. Once her dearest finished her vows, she began hers, slipping the pearlescent black metal ring onto Dox's left wrist. "With this, I make our bond for all to see. We are one from today until the universe goes dark. My flame was cold until I found you, and in finding you found the part of myself that had always been missing. You are my bond-mate, my partner in all things, and my greatest friend. My family is yours as I am to yours. You are my Minay. My Silver Moon Goddess. And I love you with all of my soul more each day we are together. And as of this moment, we will never again be apart."

Enalia picked up her next part, her arms spread wide. The two holographic moons were in alignment with each other, the smaller dark moon centered over the larger silver one, causing the auras of the bonded couple to flare and swirl between them in a beautiful lavender tornado.

"By the authority granted me by the United Federation of Planets and under the eyes of the Moon Goddess and the Trickster, I bestow upon you both the Bond Name t'Sendatu-onay! Let all those present witness and rejoice in these two becoming one!" Lowering her arms, Enalia bowed her head in respect as those present cheered. "You may now kiss."

In that moment, Mnhei'sahe was barely aware of the others in the room. In that moment, with Mona's hands in her own, their bond was stronger than it had ever been as she felt their energy blend together, something that had somehow become visible as a part of the ceremony, swirling around the two like an embrace. She could feel not just Mona but herself through Mona. She could feel her own hands as if she was in Mona's place and see herself through her bond-mates eyes and through their bond, she knew that it was the same for her Miradonain love.

Slowly, and with the slightest of nervous chuckles, Mnhei'sahe leaned in, placing her left hand on Mona's soft, warm cheek and it was as if gravity had a part of its own to play in the ceremony and the two all but fell together into each other's arms in a passionate kiss. As they did, the swirls of lavender energy around them seemed to flare brighter than ever before being pulled inward, absorbed into the two.

Out in the crowd, two very special VIPs sat at a well-guarded table. The pale one known as both Cara and Masato Rei turned to the Goddess of Matrimony with a wide grin on her face. "You know, I'm the one that convinced Mnhei'sahe to get out of her own way so they could go on their first date, right?"

"Hmph! If it weren't for me, they might never have found love at all." The matronly goddess waggled her fingers at the bonded couple, secretly blessing their marriage, a sly grin on her face. "But either way, I think they would have found each other. We just helped them along a little."

"That's certainly true. It's not every day a natural match like that comes along." Cara grinned and leaned back, enjoying the festivities.

Behind them both, Petty Officer Jablonski mopped at her eyes with an oversized handkerchief as she blubbered like a babe. "That was just so beautiful... I love weddings."

--------

Hours later, and the festivities had finally worn down enough so that the two thoroughly exhausted brides could make their way back to their quarters to rest. Once the actual ceremony had concluded, the reception was a flurry of dancing and fun for the crew that had become a family as everyone came to wish the newly bonded couple their best and swap stories and laughter.

In their quarters, Mnhei'sahe and Mona were still in their beautiful but extremely tight wedding dresses, complete with restricting corsets, hair and elaborate makeup. They both couldn't wait to finally be able to peel themselves out of the constricting outfits and just collapse, but there were two last visitors to bid farewell for the evening.

Milla and Mardo Morafry, Mona's extremely rotund foster parents, had walked the now-bonded couple back to their quarters to talk a bit more and were getting ready to leave the newlyweds to their own devices for the evening. Leading them to the door, Mona and Mnhei'sahe gave the couple long, heartfelt hugs.

"We think that was the most beautiful ceremony we've ever seen," Pappy began, his grin as wide as it could be.

"You two are truly blessed by the Moon Goddess."

"We have no doubt she was here today to bless your Bonding."

"We know the two of you will live a long and happy life together."

"It was soooo beautiful!"

"And all of our corn and egg vittles were gobbled right up!"

"Today was truly a blessed occasion."

"And you two are truly blessed as well."

With a wide but clearly tired smile, Mnhei'sahe nodded at the pair of boisterous birds that were now her family too, "Thank you both. Thank you for everything. For your blessings and for the wonderful food. I think if we'd have had one more bite of the egg vittles we would have both popped right out of our dresses."

Mona laughed a full belly laugh, a huge grin on her face. "I agree. It's time to get out of this dress and hang it up for memories. Thank you both for being here and cooking and leading the traditional dance. I think everyone loved it when we all started singing in Brokawk - though I'm betting it sounded more like chickens crowing to them."

"Oh dearies, we had an amazing time as well."

"Thank you for sharing this with us."

"We're just happy to have made it."

"And to have been such a big part of your life."

"When you have kids, if you need any help,"

"Just let us know and we'll be there, ok?"

"We certainly will. Hopefully we won't have too many chicks at a time though. We're still in Starfleet after all." Mona had to stifle a yawn with the back of her hand as she finished, reaching out with her other hand to make sure their quarters door was open and waiting.

After a final set of deep, emotional hugs and final goodnights, Milla and Mardo had gone to their quarters leaving the newlywed lovebirds to themselves at last. Back in their quarters, Dox tried to flump on the couch only to find herself sitting quite rigidly due to the corset still on. "Hnaev... That was a tactical error. Could you help me out of this?"

"Oh shoot..." Mona hefted her bride back up off the couch as best she could, nearly landing on top of her due to the rigidity of her own corset. "Yeah, I did not design these for sitting in... Let's get out of them."

Struggling with the seam for a moment, Mona finally got the stubborn corset on Dox to relax and come off like a cocoon being shed from the back. "Ok, my turn," Mona said, turning around so her Romulan bond-mate could return the favor.

Stepping around behind Mona, Dox fumbled around for a minute longer than Mona had taken to extricate her Miradonian lover. As she she helped Mona pull the dress I've her head to freedom, she spoke with her trademark awkward chuckle. "So... I guess I don't really have any excuses to avoid talking about chicks anymore, do I?"

"Not in the slightest," Mona replied, flopping on the couch. "Especially after meeting one of the few Miradonian bonded couples that can't have chicks and decided to open a foster home."

Peeling the dress off of herself, Dox flumped beside Mona and cuddled In tight, physical contact having activated their bond once more. Letting out a contented sigh as she felt Mona's energy flow freely into her again, she replied. "They can't? Why not?"

"They're both physically male," Mona replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world - as if they didn't both look the same, as rotund as they were. "A female Miradonian can mate with any sex and most races as long as the RNA mostly lines up, but males can't. On top of that, medical tech on Miradonia is nowhere near the level of the rest of the Federation."

"Well..." Mnhei'sahe said with a smile as she tucked in tighter to Mona's side, "They're obviously amazing parents. I have proof. Regarding us... I still don't know if I'm ready, but I think that if I try and wait until I'm 'ready', I'll always find an excuse to not be ready."

"I'm... I'm still scared... But I think I'm more scared of not taking that step with you out of fear, if that makes sense."

"It does. And ready or not..." Mona dug into the cushions of the couch for a moment, pulling out a hypo and medical device, a wide grin spreading across her face. "I already have what we need to do it. That is, if you're willing to give it a go tonight."

Letting out a deep, raspy laugh, Mnhei'sahe scooched back slightly on the couch and cricked her eyebrow. "Seriously? What is that and how long has it been in the couch cushions?"

Mona looked a bit sheepish as she admitted to her subterfuge. "Ah, I hid it there right before we went diving... It's medical assistance so our DNA aligns well and helps guarantee good conception... We each take a dose from the hypo and the other device is a Miradonian conception assistant we use while coupling. The EMH helped me get them."

Smiling warmly, Mnhei'sahe's stomach was starting to do its nervous flips as if on cue. But for a change, the nerves were prodding her forward. Leaning over slowly, the Romulan newlywed gently took the hypo in hand and looked at it. "In a million years, I never thought I'd be ready to do this. I never even thought I'd find someone even a tenth as amazing as you."

Laying half across the couch as she spoke, Mnhei'sahe tucked her head against Mona's warm breast as she held up the hypo and spoke is a soft, loving voice. "But I am. Whatever happens next, I'm ready to meet them. And I know that we can do anything as long as we're together."

Closing her eyes for a moment, Mnhei'sahe could feel Mona's gentle thrumming as it pulsed along with the lavender energy flowing freely between the two that she could see with her mind's eye.

Softly, Mnhei'sahe all but hummed, "I'm ready, Jhu Dhael."

Mona guided her hand with the hypo to a spot just on the edge of her lower back right above her kidney. "Right here, my Minay. I'm ready as well. Give it to me."

Pressing the hypo gently where Mona had shown her, it gave off the whisper of a hiss. Then, slowly, Mnhei'sahe sat up straighter and handed the hypo to Mona, their fingers touching lightly in the exchange.

Running her hand down Mnhei'sahe's back slowly and softly, Mona pressed the hypo just above Dox's kidney with a hiss.

As she did, Mona gently kissed the back of her bride's neck, her thrumming beginning to rise. Then, placing the hypo in the small coffee table, the Miradonian pilot lifted slowly off the couch to stand in front of Mnhei'sahe. Holding out a hand, with the device in the other, she helped the red-headed Romulan to her feet. Both were breathing heavily as, with a smile, Mona led Mnhei'sahe back to the nest they shared, in the bedroom of their quarters.

As they stepped into the darkened chamber, Mona pulled her love into a warm embrace.

The brides kissed deeply as the doors slid closed with a hush.

As the lovebirds all but fell together into each other's arms in a passionate kiss, the auras of the bonded couple continued to flare and swirl between them in a beautiful lavender tornado. Then the swirls of lavender energy seemed to flare brighter than ever, before being pulled inward, absorbed into the two.

Standing off to the side with Asa, Rita paris watched the physical representation of their two energies coming together, and her eyes widened. Something about it struck a chord with her, though she couldn't put her finger on it at the moment. If she was sensitive like Sonak she might have felt something, a disturbance in the psionic plane or something. But to her, it was the visual representation of the bonding of souls that meant... something.

As soon as the ceremony was over, Rita had changed into her traditional gold minidress uniform circa 2268, with black knee high explorer's boots over insulated black tights. The starched whites were dignified, but hellish to try to eat anything while wearing them. Particularly for a gal with her shelf space for food catching, as it were. Miradonian and Romulan wedding traditions, or at least this blending of the two, seemed to include none of the whimsical crap of her basic white girl upbringing, for which Rita was grateful. There was a buffet line, then there was music, then there were a number of heartfelt speeches and declarations.

Unusual and alien cuisine was sampled- some delicious, some politely went into a napkin. She sought out Samuel Clemens and danced a reel with him, to some folk song from Atlair IV. She danced with Asa, neither of them leading nor following, just working to move in rhythmic concert with one another. Then Rita nipped off to the reclamator to washe her hands and rinse out her mouth- something greyish green was stubbornly trying to cling there, she could see in the mirror. Running her damp fingers through her short shock of hair, Rita made herself presentable.

Then she strode out to find her husband, observing the rituals of this unique blending of alien cultures with rapt fascination. Observing him, she called out to him, in her mind, as she once did when he could hear her. But it wouldn't work, not coming from her. Rita had the psychic potential of a doorknob, so her pushing her ability produced nothing. Nothing plus nothing is still nothing, after all.

But Sonak... once upon a time, a universe away, he could sense her emotional extremes or cries of help from standard orbit, on the leeward side of the planet. The telepathy that was his birthright was powerful, but with her, it had been unbelievable. She knew him, felt him as he moved about the ship. The golden girl could just start talking to the stoic Vulcan in her mind and he listened. Unless under extreme duress he could carry on a mental conversation with her with ease as he multitasked. More than once he had guided her through complex tasks of science or engineering by explaining in detail what to do next. As a team, they had been unparalelled.

Since coming to the Prime Universe, Sonak's telepathy was limited to touch, as were the local Vulcans. Even so, his had been a very wild talent- the entire reason for his induction to the Masters of Gol training and the path to pure logic was begun when he was a child, to protect others from the potential ravages of his mental power. Having mastered logic, Sonak had remarkably precise control over his abilities, thus he spent much of his mental energy reining it in so as not to harm or intrude upon others nearby.

Selfishly, she admitted it. In her heart of hearts, Rita missed their bond. She loved the touch of him in her mind, even when they were parted. He was her T'hy'la, her One. Never was a time when she did not wish to be with him, to feel him close. Now they could still be together effortlessly with the slightest of touches. The time that they spent together was 1/4 of their lives, as when they were asleep she refused to be parted from him for long. Were he to rise in the night, she would try to hold him, to grasp at his arm to pull him back to her. Were he to be absent for more than a moment, she would awaken and look about, feeling for him although she could not perceive him that way any longer.

By day they would spend time together as couples did, engaging in familiar rituals yet changing elements to keep it interesting and refreshing. Both of them found comfort and appreciation of the other in time spent as such, and thus they continued to strive to have dinner together, occasionally breakfast or lunch. While she was often unprepared for it, her husband was a lively luncheon conversationalist, and it kept her on her toes.

In her mind's eye, Rita could see that swirling energy of Mnhei'sahe and Mona... that bonding of their souls. It had been... strengthened by the ceremony.

Could... their bond, as T'hy'la be strengthened?

Maybe... baby steps.

A rather clever idea came to the mind of the unconventionally improvisational officer.

An experiment.

A smile spread across the face of the Starfleet siren as she closed in on her handsome husband. For the thousandth time she thanked her lucky stars that the fleet had still kept science blue, because the sight of him standing upright and sharp-eyed in that blue that brought out his eyes still made her heart melt. Who could not fall for that guy, she sighed to herself, still as smitten as the first time she'd laid eyes on him. Raising her index and ring finger together in the traditional erotic approach of the Vulcans, Rita Paris opened her big blue eyes to take in the calming steely grey eyes of Sonak.

He raised his own fingers in response at the exact same moment she offered hers. The moment their skins came in contact, his dry, unemotional mind touched her own. Even more; as their souls touched, their toughts mingled, thoughts he would never share with anyone else, from a mind like none other in this or any universe; feelings he would never accept but from her.

The sight and feel of their bond move you beyond them and back to us,his mind told hers.It stirs your Human heart, Rita my wife. You wish for things past, that seemed could never again be.

Your logic is unassailable as always, Sonak my husband, and your perception is accurate, Rita replied as she moved beyond tradition, and her hand slid into his, gripping it and lightly tugging him toward the dance floor. When we came to this universe, we accepted that reality was different here, and that our bond was simply diminished.

Not diminished; altered. And the only thing that is truly constant in any universe is... change.

What if that was simply a setback? When have we ever simply accepted reality, you and I, when so much of our career amongst the stars have shown us so much more? Moving as she communicated, she brought her willing mate out to the cleared area of the dance floor, and peered hopefully into his eyes. I miss this... all of the time. I try not to let it bother me, but... I miss your presence when we are apart. I... desire more. What once was, as you say.

Looking to Lieutenant Pacci, who was serving as the musical engineer for the wedding, Paris called out. "Rena! How about a Tango for Paris?"

Sonak had felt silent for a long moment now; even between their shared minds, she suddenly felt as if a wall had come to isolate them from one another, like two silent people in a dense fog. It lasted only for a moment, before one thought came out clear as a ringing bell.

There are always... possibilities.

In that singular statement, her logical love encapsulated so very much of their adventures and service spent together. When she had first met him, he had explained that he wished to understand his emotional shipmates. As an emotionless being she imagined it to be impossible, but he had expressed that belief. When she had asked the shadow he’d left in her mind if there was a chance for them together, he had expressed the same sentiment. When she had managed to get a message to him that indicated where she was lost to him in space and time, he had said it then. Any time in their lives they had faced insurmountable odds, the master of logic had replied with a statement that held hope, and allowed for the universe to surprise them.

There are always… possibilities.

The Tango, in the Argentine style that the young Rita Paris had learned years ago in dance classes she was forced to attend, was a 4/4 rhythmic time signature song, stringed instruments lending a slow, simmering urgency to the atmosphere. As it was basically walking with a partner and the music, it was perfect for the occasion, as she knew the steps of the dance, and he could grasp them from her mind. Dancing appropriately to the emotion and speed of the dance was essential to a tango, as one needed to transmit a feeling of the music to their partner to lead them effectively through the dance.

In their lives together, he had never wavered from his choice- she plotted the course, and he supported her choices and decisions. Thus the dance upon which they now embarked was quite the illustration of this practice in action.

Moving counterclockwise around the outside of the dance floor, she stepped into his arms, holding him closely as she made her proposal. This is a dance of varying distances, and the occasional break in contact. I think… I feel that we can overcome this. It may be wishful thinking on my part, but I don’t think so. As she spun out from him, their fingertips parting briefly, she continued speaking to him in her mind, confident that if there was even the remotest chance for success, he could do this.

Because you are Sonak of Vulcan, and I have never seen a challenge she continued as she folded into his embrace, that you cannot overcome

You are correct.

It took a moment for her to realize that she had perceived his thought clearly; yet at that precise moment, they had followed the dance steps and were not in contact.

A brilliant smile, ear to ear, spread across her face as she spun back into him, taking an aggressive step forward, then another, then stepping apart as they orbited one another. It was abundantly clear to all involved that Rita Paris was apparently having the time of her life. A matter of willpower, my husband? Or... the curvaceous chrononaut stepped beside him, the two circling closely without touching as the dance allowed, is it that we simply had not made the attempt?

It is a bit more complicated than that, Sonak sent back, making her twirl then bend and forcefully rise up straight in front and close to him. For one, the genetic markers for superior psionic abilities are still there; in this universe, they simply did not express themselves fully. I hypothesize it is because of it's basic quantum structure. But even here, the Vulcan mating bond is still boundless; hence the basis for possible enhancement.

They turned away from one another as far as their outstreched hands could keep contact between them before he made her spin back into his arms, her back to him. All the time his thoughts came clear to her mind as if he spoke in a small silent room.

Despite my initial efforts, my mastery of Vulcan mind techniques was insufficient to express my latent potential any further... until we met Dox... and the powerful mind connected to her.

He let her go and stepped back, hands on hips, head high and one foot forward, a mirror image her own posture. They were not touching anymore; yet, a good meter away, she still could hear his thoughts.

I read that Ambassador Spock was exposed to powerful psionic energies at the galactic barrier. Although non psionic humans were deeply altered beyond human nature, he, a born psionic, apparently was not... until came the meta entity called V'Ger... and he alone could sense it, even parsecs away.

They stepped close again, turning around one another without touching; and yet still in the meld.

Apparently, my mind meld with those here in contact with other meta entities triggered some similar effect on my genetic make-up. It is yet far from my original level or not yet close to Betazoid standards; but, at least with you and a few others, already surpassing that of other Vulcans.

Stepping closely in time with him, first advancing in a prowl, then giving ground just as quickly, they continued to step in time with one another around the edge of the dance floor in perfect synchronicity. The more you use it, the more contact with powerful minds, the more it awakens your literally latent potential. Stepping in closely, she ran her fingers across his jawline, along his cheeks, briefly caressing those points she knew ignited the contact of a meld before she ran her fingers through his hair in an intimate step of the dance.

This is a joyous day indeed, for both our friends and for us, my husband, Rita swooned back as Sonak's arm encircled her waist, then spun her to the floor, holding her hand. Smoothly he reeled her back in, bringing her up into his arms with a start before he thrust out his left hand to drive them across the floor cheek to cheek. So we can foster this? Practice and focus, meditate and harmonize?

That would be the next logical step, he answered as they came at the end of the dance floor and sharply turned around still holding her.

You are truly the most remarkable individual I have ever encountered in my travels, Mr. Sonak. Rita expressed to her logical mate as she took one languorously slow step, which was then followed by another before the pace changed to two rapid steps in succession.

So are you to me, Thy'la

As they took another long and slow step, Rita’s thoughts matched the pace, although she couldn’t stop smiling. The expansion of their connection, the bond which had endured through separation like no other, affirmed her faith in the universe, as so often embodied by the stoic scientist in blue to whom her heart belonged.

Without reserve, she loved him, admired him, and adored him. His presence filled her with joy, and his touch brought her contentment which soothed her as no other ever could or would. He was her hero, the scientist explorer for whom the oddities of the universe were fascinating, and held no fear.

How could a gal as unlucky as me ever manage to convince an emotionless master of logic to fall in love? she mused as the dancing duo took two sharp stomp steps before stepping apart dramatically and slowly to circle one another in a half-orbit spin before coming together again.

Luck is only the subjective interpretation of a lack of all the proper parameters to provide precise calculation and prediction, he objected. As for love, it is more than simply an emotion. It is an act of sharing, support and respect aimed at bettering the nature and life of more than just oneself; when one plans to truly achieve fulfillment, it is the logical path to achieve through, and with, another.

In his eyes, as much as in his mind, it was quite evident that he had himself achieved this fulfillment... thanks to her.

Hooking her leg up and around his waist, the Starfleet siren caressed the face of the stoic scientist. Pointing her toe to release the grip her boots tended to exert on the floor, he drew her back with him along the edge of the dance floor. It's different here, but... it's good. It's an optimistic future, and they are a good and able crew. Unhooking her leg and spinning out away from him, they eyed one another as they took slow prowling steps back toward one another.


It is an observed fact that the lighting is much brighter on these ships, he thought back to her, an echo of her own witty frame of mind shared through the meld.As for optimism, it is the only attitude that makes us move forward. And on the matter at hand...

She felt a tingling sensation in their joined hands, like the feeling of a fine hot rain in her palms.

My telekinetic ability is also returning, he explained. For now, I can barely move a needle a centimeter or so from me; but that ability has never been particularly powerful to begin with. However, in this universe, even this little progress is quite significant.

That is both exciting and troublesome, my husband, Rita replied as she slid her shoulders sensually past his own athletic build, as they circled one another back to back, then sliding by on the side, simulating pursuit and temptation. As I recall, exercising your telepathy never seemed to affect you, but you were mentally taxed by using your telekinesis. It was… worrisome for me to see you so debilitated.

The kolinahr made her spin away, to arm's length on the uncrowded dance floor, then back to him with the slightest of tugs.

I understand your feeling, even if I cannot share it. Of course we only wish the most happiness possible, with the least possible harm to one another. But life is always a struggle. That struggle is even more worrisome when shared, yet paradoxically lessened when shared. We must have the serenity to accept both halves of the equation, as no equation can exist otherwise.

There was no arguing with his flawless logic. Sonak was a master of his own mind and body after all, knew his limitations, and always acted within them to insure his continued survival and mental health. That did not, however, prevent the memory of him rescuing her from her father then collapsing from extreme exhaustion afterward- from exercising his telekinesis. His vitality was a constant in their lives, and seeing him so vulnerable had always left her distrustful of that particular discipline.

While her logic was not necessarily sound, her feelings were honest; thus shared with him, as always.

But there was no uncertainty in his mind, linked to hers as they walked side by side, she in his arms, with long, sinuous, energetic steps.

Telepathy is akin to talking, but with psionic wavelengths instead of soundwaves. The energy expenditure is minimal; unless you attempt to make contact over great distances. Hence why it is the most common psionic ability in the universe.

Telekinesis, on the other hand, is far less common. It is a great rarity among modern Vulcans; and it was barely more common on ancient Vulcan, when psionics were part of warfare. Even then, it often required technological assistance such as the psionic resonator found by Captain Jean-Luc Picard a few decades ago.

Even the Platonians required an enhancing chemical in their environment to utilize telekinetic power, although a lifetime of exposure made them more powerful than most. In point of fact, the discipline is as tasking to the mind, as physical exertion is to the body. It requires the same energy, to affect the same mass at the same distance; as the laws of gravity and motion still apply whether it is muscular or psionic energy applied. So yes, even in my limited capacity, it was tasking; as it should be. So the only logical response is to accept and compose with reality. That is what we will do.

With a flourish, they both spun and came right against the other, face to face, eyes locked.

Caressing his cheek with her well-manicured nails, she smiled at himas she circled around him, maintining the beat of the tango- slow step, slow step, fast step fast step, slow step. You're right, of course. By voicing my misgivings we may address them, which satisfies me. You acknowledge my feelings, and I acknowledge your logic. Spinning in a half circle, she reversed direction, placing the same steps as she circled him again.

A dozen different thoughts and ideas all tried to make it to the surface at the same time- her gratitude for him finding her, her comfort in his presence, the fact that he would simply come and dance a tango with her while educating her about telepathy, the way he looked in the blue uniform top, that gleam in his steel grey eyes that told her more than words could say what she meant to him, the way his strong arms felt around her slender waist, his fearless brilliance and infinite patience, the eternal calm of his mind. All of those thoughts and emotions collided at once trying to be expressed.

Instead of giving any of them expression, Rita took the face of her love in both hands, closed her eyes, and kissed Sonak tenderly, there on the dance floor.

It was not the professional distance that they maintained from day to day. Public displays of affection they kept to their quarters, almost exclusively. But it was a wedding, and a dance floor, and a joyous event in so many ways. It was the future- a bright and optimistic one, and she somehow intuitively knew to mark the moment in their minds, to forge a good memory of a wonderful day.

When Rita finally let Sonak go and they were eye to eye once more, his left eyebrow rose quizzically.

''I do not recall this particular move in classical Tango.''

"We accept and compose with reality," Rita replied with a sly smile.

It was about twelve minutes past 04:00 and the alarm chime was going off with a steady pinging as Ensign Briaar Gavarus snored violently through it. The somewhat sloppy bedroom was just organized enough to pass inspection once everything was shoved under the bed or into the closet, but it was home to the grumpy Tellarite Engineer that was sleeping off a long night of late drinking.

Most nights were long nights of late drinking for Gavarus and her pint-sized partner in crime, the test pilot, Ensign Fiona O'Dell. The two-meter-tall Tellarite and the Mariposian midget had quickly become the scourge of Ten-Forward, and it was a badge of honor for them.

So it was no surprise that the porcine officer was sleeping through her alarm. At least until her bedroom door hissed open, and a figure crept in. Rounding the bed, there was a hushed chuckle from the darkness. But Gavarus didn't stir, snoring louder than ever.

Slowly, a small white shape covered in fur was lowered over the pig-like snout of the slumbering giant. Delicately, a hand holding the purring tribble known as 'Cueball' over the snout of its owner waved the fuzzy form gently across, lightly brushing Gavarus' snout.

The irritable engineer stirred, snorting and crinkling her snout, but not quite waking up. From the darkness, a musical and tiny voice said, in a sing-song voice, "BriiAAAaaaar... BriiiAAAAAAAAAaar..."

Wiggling the cooing tribble against Gavarus' snout again, the light, melodious voice continued to chime, "Wake oop, Briaar."

This time, the tired Tellarite stirred a bit more, and her bleary eyes opened as she brought up a thick, three-fingered hand to scratch her now itchy snout. As her eyes came into a soft focus, she saw the impossibly cheerful face of the grinning ginger with far too much morning energy, Fiona O'Dell.

"Top o' the mornin' to ye, Briaar!" She shouted in a much louder, more boisterous greeting, holding Cueball in front of her as an offering or shield from harm, possibly both.

Startled, Gavarus shouted with surprise and shot back in her bed, nearly falling backward out of it as she did. "What the effin' @#$%, Fee!? What are you doing?!"

“I come ta wake ye oop, yeh great snorin’ swine! Tis oh four hundred, and we’re ta report to the gym, aye? Remember? We were off for leave, but now yuir pretty pack’a pulchitrudinous poundage is g’win ta expect us ta be there fuir our PT trainin, so’s we kin both pass the test that’s comin’, aye?” The overly cheerful O’Dell was, of course, a morning person, so naturally she was already up and dressed, had snuck into Gavarus’ quarters and found a way to awaken her without getting tossed across the room.

“Ah bring peace offerins!” she chirped, tucking the cooing tribble into the crook of her arm so she could raise a cup of coffee and a donut to her porcine pal.

Eyeballing the donut, Gavarus snatched it and took a bite, talking with her mouth full. "Well, this kinda defeats the point, but screw it." Slowly, the enormous engineer curled to a seated position, wearing nothing but an oversized night-shirt with a cartoon pig on the chest. As she did, she let out a massive yawn. "Shit... I guess we have to and... wait, Pulchawhosiwhat?"

“Yuir great big pile a muscles ye loost after, Jablonski? Remember, only gal on the ship ye hafta look up to?” O’Dell chirped, shifting the tribble to hold him in one arm as she idly stroked the white fur. “I thought I’d say somethin’ other than ‘yuir gal pal who I look in the bellybuttom alla time’ for a change.”

Snorting out a light laugh at the visual of that, Gavarus looked at the time and all but leapt up. "Shit. And we're supposed to be there in fifteen minutes. Craaaap."

Mention of the object of her affections woke the temperamental Tellarite up better than a cup of coffee, as she crept up to grab at the pile of what she was relatively certain were clean clothes, searching for her work out gear, her industrial strength sports bra and a pair of functional underwear. Finding a pair of hot pink panties, she unceremoniously shoved them to her face and took a whiff.

"Hmm. Thank the gods, that was the clean pile," Gavarus muttered as she awkwardly pulled them on, revealing most of her mammoth ass, complete with short twisty tail, to her diminutive wingwoman, in the process. The two friends were in no way self-conscious around one another, sharing drinks and having ended up partially or wholly naked in front of one another a surprising number of times in their association. As Gavarus headed to the reclamator, she continued talking, as she didn’t bother to close the door.

For her part, O’Dell mostly just paid no attention and focused on the tribble, which seemed relatively large in her childlike arms, which purred, cooed and trilled happily to be paid attention to by the little lass. O’Dell had often mentioned missing the various livestock that her family kept as pets slash sources of wool, hides or future meals. Which meant that Cueball the Tribble was a perfect substitute for her desire for something fluffy and cuddly to pet and hug.

As O'Dell cuddled with Cueball, there was a rushing sound as Gavarus began emptying her bladder from the last evening’s drinks. "Daaaaammm... Okay. That's the first beer. There's the second beer. Whisky shot. Whisky shot. Third beeeeerrrr and boom!"

"Okay, let me just wash up real quick, feed Cuey and throw my shit on and we're good to go." Gavarus commented in real time as she flushed the reclimator and washed up.

“Nae worries, I’ll care fuir the wee one!” Fiona brightly offered, bouncing into the other room to fetch the food flakes that were specifically designed to maintain a healthy, neutered tribble. Which was funny, since they also fed the small lifeform beer, whiskey or whatever the two of them were eating or drinking at the moment. Setting him down delicately in his container, Fiona waggled her fingers at her furry friend.

Together, the unlikely pair finished up the last few morning tasks and bolted out the door on their way to the Hera's expansive gymnasium to meet with Petty Officer Ethel Jablonski. The two plus meter tall Amazonian mountain of remarkably kind muscle had been pitching in to help Gavarus and O'Dell to get in better shape for the egregarious engineer's upcoming physical, and the pernicious pilot's work in the experimental flight mech known as the Thunderchicken.

As they arrived in as much of a hurry as the slack duo could ever been seen making, they stood in the open doorway, looking for the object of Briaar Gavarus' desires. "Uh... we're, like, a few minutes late. I didn't think she was physically capable of being late."

Gavarus commented with a puzzled expression. "You don't think she just got sick of my bullshit... fawning... and ditched, do you?"

“Nahhhh, that ain’t yuir girl. Remember, she encourages the both of us e’en when ye just flop on the deck and canna move n’more. She must have a duty or something… so hey, now she won’t know we were late, so we kin cut corners on the workout, aye?” Leave it to O’Dell to try to turn a negative into a positive- at least, while sober. When drunken she became far more obnoxious and confrontational.

“Let’s do the stretches she showed us and get ready, aye? This way when she shows she’ll know ye been takin’ her lessons to heart, aye?” Leading the way, O’Dell didn’t bother waiting for an answer before setting off, those short toothpicks she called legs propelling her along. Gavarus suspected that given how much they drank and how little O’Dell seemed to sleep, she probably had some sort of glandular disorder that gave her boundless energy. Which was probably at least part of the reason why she was so short and petite to begin with.

"Please. She's not my anything." Following behind, Gavarus begrudgingly made her way to the mat where O'Dell had already begun stretching. After shaking off a little lingering sleep, Gavarus began being over to stretch her back out, as it protested with a series of wet, popping sounds.

"Gyaaa. Gods damn, this never gets... Oooh... Easier." Gavarus grunted as she continued. "Isn't it supposed to get frickin' easier, Fee?"

But before the energetic ginger dynamo could answer, there came a bellowing and gravely belly laugh from behind the pair that made both of them just about jump out of their skins. "HA!!! 'Easier'? Easy is for mewling children and little piggies? True warriors crave challenge eternal!"

"You gonna let her call ye a wee mewwwwwlin' child, Gavarus?" O'Dell chucked a thumb over her shoulder without looking back as she set back into her stretches.

Turning around to see who was insulting her this time, Gavarus gulped and knitted her eyebrows at the site of Petty Officers, S'Rina and V'Nus Wil'I'ams- the USS Hera's resident Klingon security sisters.

"Uh, yeah. Probably, yeah." Gavarus whispered to O'Dell.

"Look, sister. The tiny one is stupid as well as weak," the other Klingon warrior observed with a sneer, when O'Dell turned to eyeball them. Hands parked on her hips, toothpick arms akimbo, she stepped into the space between the two dark-skinned muscular women in matching pink t-shirts that read 'Home Team'.

"Now what was that ye joost said aboot me...?" O'Dell asked, looking up at the two much taller and larger women out from under her brows.

"Oh, for shit's sake, you are NOT in the 'Chicken, Fee!" Gavarus whispered in a mild panic as she watched her best friend about to challenge clearly angry Klingons.

Trying to keep her temperamental buddy from getting stepped on, Gavarus had to step into a role she was completely unqualified for: peacemaker. But she was also more mad that they insulted O'Dell then she was about being insulted herself. They insulted O'Dell, so her attempt at smoothing the situation over was more than a little sarcastic.

"Hey, yeah. So, I don't know if this is, like, your section of floormat or something, but we're not overtly attached to it, so it's all yours. Crappla, or whatever."

"Naaaae ye don't. We're nae backin doown from this," O'Dell set her chin in a defiant pout. "G'wan, say somethin' else?"

"You have courage, tiny one, if not the sense of a drom'Li," the taller and more slender sister observed archly, as the shorter but much more muscular sister leaned down, putting her hands on her knees as if addressing a child. "Are you challenging me, little thing?"

Stepping in between the two while internally cursing herself, Gavarus chuckled uncomfortably. "Yeah. Big challenge? Bar darts? Drunk Jenga? Math? REALLY drunk Jenga? Just getting drunk? That's our game."

"Or the really new fun party hit, 'who doesn't want to get court martialed for no reason'? We kick ass at that challenge." Gavarus concluded, meeting the gaze of the surly Klingon who could likely kill her with a hard stare.

The Klingon woman's eyes narrowed, and her glower was practically palpable. "Are you threatening me, you great ball of fetid flatulent-"

"Officer," O'Dell chirped, wedging in front of Gavarus again like a pair of siblings jostling to be first. "The word yuir lookin' for, Petty Officer, is 'officer. As in 'Ensign'. As in, 'Went to officer school and outranks ye' nae matter how big an' toof ye are, so as Ensign Gavarus joost mentioned, are ye playin' 'Who wants ta get court martialed'? Because ye've already insulted a pair of officers. Ye want ta go for assault too? I hear the penal colony on the dark side of Luna is particularly deep and cold, aye?"

Looking down at O'Dell, Gavarus's eyebrows raised up with an unexpected smirk. "Well, yeah. There's that, too." Then she whispered down to the tiny terror, "Nice."

"Sooo, we're just here to exercise. What are you here for?" Gavarus added, noticing the rest of the gym had gone eerily quiet as it seemed that most all of those there were quite invested in what was going to happen next.

The two Klingon sisters exchanged glances, and in short order, they had a silent argument between one another in the space of a few seconds. Then the more sleder of the two, V'Nus, genuflected in front of the irate Irish stereotype.

"You are officers, this is true. Starfleet has rules about officer's rank and enlisted respect. We honor this, for we have sworn oaths." Both Klingons stiffened up a bit at that, then the burlier of the duo, S'Rina continued. "This is the training ground for warriors. Here, we challenge one another, to push ourselves to be greater, to be stronger, to be faster- to be tougher. We speak words of challenge to rouse the warrior's spirit in our comrades. So that we all may train hard and grow strong, as warriors."

"We come to train as warriors," V'Nus declared. "Do you also come to train as warriors?"

All about the gymnasium, Gavarus and O'Dell were suddenly aware that all activity had ceased, and literally everyone in Gymnasium 1 was watching and listening to see how this played out. Taking it in via the mirrors that lined the walls, Gavarus noticed that of the dozen crewmen, most of the crew working out in here were women. Muscular, fit women. Security officers, even.

Under normal circumstances, Gavarus might be looking at the assemblage lustfully. Most of the women in the room were the exact kind of women that turned her on, after all. But in that moment the flustered and angry Tellarite was fed up with the chest bumping machismo on display.

She rubbed the bridge of her snout for a moment, trying to compose herself. But instead, as was more often the case with the confrontational Porcine officer, she just started vomiting words. "Oh, for @#$&s sake. I swear I'm gonna lose IQ points with all this 'warrior' bullshit."

"Yeah! We're here to train as warriors! My war is I need to fit my fetid flatulent FAT ASS in the ships goddamn Jefferies Tubes so the goddamn warp core doesn't implode and kill us all while you're asleep dreaming of frickin' GLORY!" Gavarus started ranting, gesticulating with het hands.

"And she's here to train because Fiona mother@#$&ing O'Dell is the ONLY pilot in Starfleet thats fully rated to fly the frickin'Thunderchicken and not frickin' DIE doing it!" The words just kept falling out of her as she continued to get angrier.

"Wanna know WHY?! Because you don't just fly it like any old shuttle. It's a Frickin' neural link! You don't fly it... It flies YOU! So, she needs to train to make sure that the next time she LEADS THE CHARGE TO SAVE THE WHOLE DAMN SHIP, her heart doesn't explode and her brain doesn't liquify! Because HER brain can make ten tons of metal frickin' DANCE!" Forgetting the situation, Gavarus all but let her snout touch the irate Klingon as she yelled in her face.

"Beacuse if you linked all the rest of you together, you're combined brainpower couldn't get that rig to FART, and that would land you in sick bay with a frickin' stroke! So, yeah! We're here to train as WARRIORS! WANNA DO SOME SQUAT THRUSTS?!"

The nostrils of the standing Klingon woman flared, and her puils dilated even as her dark skin flushed even darker as a lowl, long and particularly pitched growl started somewhere within her, even as her taller and more lithe sister, on one knee before the midget Mariposian officer held out a restraining arm before her sibling. A string of barking, guttural Klingonese came out of her mouth, which made no sense to either of the officers.

"Hold, sister! Aroused you may be, but this is not our world, these are not our people and their ways are not our ways. You will have to make with the mewling talking and asking of permissions and crossing of boundaries before you pounce upon the fat one to make her squeal, sister," V'Nus restrained her stronger sibling with a call to honor, even as the frustrated Klingon woman's growls became more of a snarl.

"The moment will pass and my loins will not crave that snouted face to do squat thrusts upon if I must talk and ask and all of the weaksauce traditions of Federation mating. But in this moment, I would take her, sister! Here on the mats of Gymnasium One!" S'Rina growled out as she took a deep breath to compose herself.

To the two R&D officers, it seemed the more sensible one was talking the angrier one out of removing Gavarus' lungs through O'Delll's windpipe. Which might have de-escalated, if not for that being the moment that Petty Officer Jablonski strode into the gym like she owned it, quickly noticing the little stand-off, and her skilled eye recognizing the situation as a confrontation of some sort.

"So hey there, what's going on over here, eh?" the mountainous mass of muscle asked casually as she tossed a towel onto her shoulder.

Under normal circumstances, the sight of the woman of her dreams might have rendered Gavarus dumbstruck and speechless. But in the moment, she was still pissed off and didn't know how to quit while she was ahead.

"We just came to exercise, but apparently we need to kill and eat something first to be worthy frickin' warriors!" The Porcine Engineer shouted, still staring at the Klingon woman she had no idea wanted to mount her right there on the exercise mat.

"Though, now I'm not Exactly sure what's going on, because I don't speak Klingon!" At which point, Gavarus started shouting sarcastically in, of all things, pig Latin. "ichwhay , ifyay ouyay askyay emay , ain'tyay exactlyyay onorablehay. ightray?"

While O'Dell wasn't thrilled by not understanding the alien conversation either, which surprised her. In the moment she couldn't realize why, but she'd grown accustomed to her comm badge translating everything for her. Even some of the Lieutenant's more colorful Romulan phrases. Right now, however, what she was picking up on was more on an instinctive fight or flight mechanism that the tiny test pilot had as a rather strong reaction to large mammals in her vicinity moving with aggressive intent. Having grown up in a house with seven brothers all older and larger than she, O'Dell had a finely tuned fight or flight.

Unsurprisingly, it leaned quite heavily to flight.

In the world of mammals and their interactions, Fiona O'Dell was what her upbringing and genetics had made her- a sheep. She was a clever and quick sheep, but prey, nonetheless. With V'Nus on the ground at her level. O'Dell felt that she was like a puma- patient, confident and in no hurry, as she could strike with speed. That one was restrained because she had patience. To the bonny babe of the Bringloidians, for all the world seemed her aggressive sister quite a gorilla clearly had none. All but pounding her chest in a... oh wait, was that not violence but a... oh...!

Which was when O'Dell swore she could feel a draft as Jablonski eased up onto the scene.

Practiced eyes played across the scene, frozen in tableau. The Security personnel could all read the situation, bu6t not everyone had tumbled exactly to the full depth of the situation- instead reading it as a conflict about to erupt into violence. Jablonski looked confused, maintaining an open mind.

"So you gals gettin' all warmed up?" the captain of the honor guard asked innocently, rubbing her hands together in anticipation of the day with a smile. Which was when that growl kind of turned into a hiss from S'Rina, who was still eyeing the toothsome Tellarite and had finally decided to throw caution to the wind.

"I will have you now, subcreature!" was what she shouted as her sister shouted for her to stop, but it all came out like loud chewing noises to Gavarus as the burly Klingon woman hurled herself at the irritable engineer, stopped short by her sister, who snagged the back of her bright pink sports top to bring her sister up short before she could tackle the tall Tellarite..

"EEEEEE!!!! She's gonna EAT me!!!!" Gavarus squealed.

As O'Dell leapt to the defense of the terrified Tellarite, interposing her inconsequential mass between the two women, Jablonski rolled her eyes, shook her head and picked up S’Rina with one hand and Gavarus with the other. Quite a feat, even for the overly large Security officer.

“Whoah whoah whoah, okay now, how about we all just settle down here, hm? The gymnasium is for everybody, and that means everybody. So both of you calm down, eh? How about we all take a deep breath and compose ourselves before we’re all standing in from of the Captain explaining why we can’t get along in the gym, okay now?” Jablonski held both women by the sport tops, as both the Klingon and Tellarite’s feet dangled off the ground.

The porcine hooves of the rotund engineer wiggled uselessly as she hung there. But as terrified as she had been a second ago, it seemed all but magically erased by a wave of lusty awe as Gavarus's eyes about popped out of her head as she stared at 'Big' Ethel Jablonski. "Uh... Heh heh... Y... Yeah. Yeah I'm totally composed."

Trying to not smile too aggressively, Gavarus flashed an overly friendly gaze at the object of her affections as she was immediately snapped out of her momentary daze by the aggressive and still somewhat lusty glare of S'Rina Wil'I'ams, dangling a few feet away. As she realized she had been about to commit a serious breach of ethics, the Klingon petty officer calmed herself through force of will. Which was made somewhat easier by her comrade in arms, to whom the rest of the Security team deferred, literally dangling her off the ground as if her weight were inconsequential.

“I am… composed. I am calm. Now PUT ME DOWN,” the Klingon warrior sniffed indignantly, more embarrassed over her casual handling by her burly peer than anything else.

“Only if you’re gonna be calm and get along,” Jablonski scolded. “That goes for you too, Ensign. I know this is technically assault and you can press charges if you want, but I’m just making sure nobody is going to escalate this situation.” At that, Jablonski peered at Gavarus, then S’Rina, and then at O’Dell, who blinked in surprise.

“Me??! I’m nae doin innything! I’m innocent as a lamb! Right?” she cast an eye and a hand to V’Nus, who rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Ensign, you are truly innocent as a babe,” the Klingon security officer offered with no conviction whatsoever.

"Yeah. Uh... de-escalation is what we're going for here. We are currently escalated and we want to be on the deck again." Gavarus chuckled awkwardly, gagging slightly as her blood circulation was being cut off by being lifted by the back of her top, which was digging into her armpits and cutting off blood flow to her arms. Her fingers were starting to go numb.

"Nope... No assault here. Just a big... REALLY BIG misunderstanding, right?" Gavarus added, trying to smile exaggeratedly at S'Rina. "S... Seriously... Please put... put me down. I'm gonna black out or throw up or both and... *Hurk* I dunno... in which order..."

With that request, Jablonski gingerly set the two crew members down on the deck once more, with a restraining hand on the shoulder of each of them. "So everybody’s okay now, right? No conflict?”

While she was uncertain of what she had stumbled into, the burly security officer could recognize a situation she needed to defuse, and was now hoping whatever catastrophe had been about to unfold had now been averted.

“We were attempting to motivate the officers to engage with us in their workout,” V’Nus offered, as a somewhat truthful version of the situation.

“Yes… engaging,” S’Rina added, looking somehow mortified."

Standing unsteadily on wobbly legs, Gavarus shook out her fingers trying to get blood back into them. "Ooh... pins and needles... uh... Yeah. They were... engaging us."

As she spoke, she started poking herself in the snout to make sure she could feel it before stopping herself mid thought with a start. "Engaging us to WORK OUT! Work out and totally nothing else. At all."

Looking from one participant in the situation to the other, O’Dell summed up the situation in her own inimitable way. “Well, consider us engaged. So now, if ye’ll excuse me, we’re g’win ta engage breakfast, then we’ll come back to work out afterward, aye?” As Jablonski began to object, the short spitfire stuck a finger out in her direction. “Nae a word, Miss Jablonski. That’s what we’re doing, and I know the warnings and we’ll throw up over the side of that bridge when we get there. Come on, Gavarus.”

With that, the tiny terror of the flight deck stepped behind her pudgy partner to put both hands on her back to start literally pushing her toward the door.

Offering remarkably little resistance, Gavarus picked up on O'Dell's intentions and started out as well. "We'll be back to... uh... feel the warrior burn! Yeah." Then she comically shook a pudgy fist in the air as she all but ran out the door. "Be ready for our return! CRAPPLA!

The instant the door hissed shut, Gavarus loudly whispered to her puny partner-in-crime. "Oh gods, we're not actually coming back today, are we?!"

“Are ye kiddin?” O’Dell rolled her eyes and held up her hands, palms to the sky. “It was either watch the Klingon eat you, or watch you get gooey over the fact that Jablonski can pick you up with one hand. After alla that, the only thing keepin’ me from day drinkin’ is the fact that Lieutenant would murderpunch me…”

"Yeah, I think I've almost died enough for one day." Gavarus grumbled as they walked very quickly to the turbolift. But as they walked, Gavarus' face spread into a huge smile. "But still... ONE FRICKIN' ARM, Fee! That was frickin' awesome!"

“Pffft. Big deal. Gals pick me up by one arm all the time...” O’Dell replied with a wink and a nudge to the ribs of the smitten engineer.

Standing at her desk in the flight control office of the U.S.S. Hera, it's chief Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox was working, focused on the tasks at hand.

Only a day earlier, she stood with her love and bond-mate, Mona Gonadie on the same flight deck that her office overlooked as the two women were joined as one. On her wrist, tucked under the sleeve of her crimson uniform top, she fingered the shining black Romulan ceremonial bracelet. It was a symbol of her union that brought a smile to the face of the anxious, red-headed pilot.

And last night, the pair began their first steps towards advancing that bonding further, as they were now actively trying to conceive.

But while yesterday was a day of celebration, it was time to get back to work for the newly minted bride. Buried in the paperwork that had accumulated over the last few days that Ensign MacNielle had been left in charge, the young Romulan was very absorbed in her work. So much so that Mnhei'sahe was slightly surprised when the door to the office wooshed open early and Jaeih Dox stepped in. "Jolan'tru, my daughter."

The older Romulan woman paused briefly, with an almost awkward smile, "I wanted to see how you were after the ceremony. This is rather quick to shift gears to duties, after all. And as it is currently the scheduled period for lunch, I was hoping you might be available?"

Standing back up, Mnhei'sahe straightened her uniform tunic and walked to greet her mother. "Jolan'tru, Mother. I appreciate you checking. However, we knew the timeline would be somewhat compressed, so we did our… honeymooning… in advance. As for lunch, I'm extremely burried in paperwork right now so I'd rather stay here. But we can grab something from the replicator and I would be happy to take a moment."

The younger Romulan woman put the slight inflection of a question on the traditionally human phrase of 'honeymoon' as she was woefully inadequate regarding many elements of Earth culture despite her four years on Earth before joining the Academy. Finishing up with the PaDD in her hand, she gave her mother her full attention for the moment.

Stepping over to the replicator, Jaeih held up a finger as she ordered up two plates of beef stew, a dish she knew her daughter enjoyed that they had eaten often when Mnhei'sahe was growing up on their smuggling ship together. Bringing the steaming bowls over, Jaeih set one down directly in front of her daughter, blocking her access to the computer for a moment.

Smirking at the none-too-subtle direction to stop and eat, Mnhei'sahe nodded. "Okay. Hint taken. Thank you. And yes, We had a wonderful ceremony and evening." Mnhei'sahe added.

With a now pronounced smirk of her own as she sat across from her daughter, Jaeih cricked an eyebrow. "Oh, I can tell, my dear. I've seen you miserable enough to know what contentment looks like on your face and I'm glad to see it."

"Stay this happy and you might even leap that mental hurdle and provide me with grandchildren before I die of old age." Jaeih added sarcastically, taking a spoonful of her stew.

At that, Mnhei'sahe's stomach tightened ever so slightly. It was nearly impossible to forget the prophetic statements of Death and Kodria that her time with her mother was to be short. She knew it meant that the elder Romulan could well die much sooner than of 'old age'. But Mnhei'sahe pushed the concern from her mind as she twisted the subject back around.

"Two to three weeks, mother." She said flatly.

"Pardon me?" Jaeih replied with a curious smile.

"We will know in two to three weeks if our… efforts last night… and for the next few evenings… thanks to the assistance from the DNA sequence gap stabilizer that's currently in both of our systems... will have led to anything."

At the words, Jaeih's eyes went wide as she tried unsuccessfully to stifle a broad smile. "You mean… you and Mona are going to…"

Cutting her Mother off slightly, mid-thought, Mnhei'sahe interjected. "Yes, Mother. At least, we're officially trying. We shall see what happens, but for now… we have started."

Taking a spoonful of stew, Mnhei'sahe paused to chew before continuing. "She was already ready. Had a hypospray with the meds needed to hopefully overcome the species gap that she got from the EMH literally tucked in the couch cushions."

At that, Jaeih snorted out loud, almost spitting her stew. "Oh my goodness. Yes, that sounds exactly like something that dear woman would have done. We had lunch last week while working on her experimental cloak... and she already has a list of names picked out."

Looking at her mother with a slightly shocked expression, Mnhei'sahe took another spoonful. "Seriously? Well, she is very much a planner."

"That she is. I know I was… less than supportive initially, but I wanted you to know that I am quite happy for you, Mnhei'sahe. She is truly an exceptional woman and I'm glad you found each other." It was a more emotional statement than the elder Romulan was generally comfortable making, but she found herself feeling more and more... maternal... the longer she was on the ship and had decided to simply accept it as a positive.

But she was also willing to change the subject ever so slightly to share any uncomfortability around. "So… on another note. I understand how a DNA sequence gap stabilizer would be required. But… uh… how to put this delicately. You're both women? How did you do this in the bedroom and not a science lab?"

This time, it was Mnhei'sahe's turn to almost spit out her stew. "Mother?!"

There was an awkward moment of silence in which the former Tal'Shiar agent leaned in and raised her eyebrows quizzically with an expression of slightly sarcastic curiosity. "Well? You can't blame my curiosity. How much mad science was required here?"

Taking a moment to compose herself, Mnhei'sahe cricked and eyebrow and chuckled. "Okay. Well, not as much 'mad science' as you might think. The DNA hypo was the majority of the scientific requirements involved. And, uh, well… Miradonian women have the capability of mating with other women."

Blushing a deep green, Mnhei'sahe continued awkwardly. "We had a… tool… that Miradonian's use to help align... No. No, I can't be having this conversation. This is just…"

Flustered, Mnhei'sahe tried to end the segue quickly. "Believe it or not, it was largely… very much… naturally achieved. And I refuse to go into any further details, Mother."

As she finished, she shoved a very large spoonful of stew in her mouth to force herself to stop speaking. As she did, Jaeih took a decidedly daintier sip as she commented. "Well, I had to ask. I am a scientist as well."

"You're a Cloaking engineer, Mother. Very little CLOAKING was involved, here! Hnaev." The exasperated pilot commented, wiping her mouth as she finished her bowl.

Letting out a satisfied chuckle, Jaeih was clearly pleased with herself for making her daughter uncomfortable in this instance. It was, after all, a surprisingly innocent interaction for the two whose relationship not too long ago was completely adversarial. “Oh, relax Mnhei’sahe. We’re both adults here. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I am quite happy for you.”

Grimacing slightly, the younger Dox smirked as she leaned back in her chair. “Thank you, Mother. We will, of course, keep you posted on our status and if you’re going to become a Hu'nanov anytime soon. That said, I really do need to get back to this. MacNielle left me a metric ton of paperwork from my little mini-break.”

“The burdens of command, I’m afraid. Picking up after others. You had best get used to it, my daughter...” Jaeih stood up, grabbing both empty bowls to take to the reclimator as she began to head for the door. “...You may soon have an even greater command responsibility before you.”

With a smirk, the elder Romulan let herself out as the door wooshed closed behind her. As she did, her befuddled Daughter rolled her eyes as she mumbled to herself. “Heh. Yeah. Hera’s domain aura is definetly affecting her.”

It was late onboard the Hera through the few crew who were walking through the corridors made sure to move out of the way as the andorian master at arms hurried through the ship. He said nothing other than move with Thex held tightly in his arms. The chief had her arms around him though by her speech she was sounding very weak.

Bursting through the sickbay doors the pajama-clad master at arms simply yelled. " Everyone I need some help over here."

Hearing the bustle in the reception area, Asa came out of their office at a jog. Seeing Thav holding a weakened form of Thex, they ran over full speed, helping the man ease her onto the nearest biobed.

"What happened?" Asa said, wasting no time for pleasantries.

Thav was speaking a mile a minute as he lowered Thex onto the nearest biobed. Both of his antennae was reaching for his bondmate desperately trying to wrap them around her own to comfort her. " We were doing the transfer from Thex to Tathaa. Everything seemed to be okay and going how the books said it was going, but Thex wouldn't stop bleeding. It said the first time there would be some, but it's not stopping." The chief of security said his normally calm tone cracking slightly at the nightmare that was unfolding.

"OK, let me take this from here. She's going to be ok, Thav, I promise," Asa said calmly, motioning for the ever-calm Nurse Vimes to show Thav to a nearby seat.

The biobed beeped a warning the Thex's blood was getting slightly low, so Asa called for Nurse Almera to start an IV. As she was doing so, Asa continued to scan and investigate the cause of the bleed. Seeing it was emanating from the Lieutenant Commander's reproductive canal, Asa drew a privacy panel across the biodbed to shield Thex from any accidental prying eyes.

Turning to Thav, Asa said in even tones, "The book was right. I know it looks like a lot, but she's going to be just fine. It's not uncommon for andorians completing their first transfer to develop these symptoms. I'm administering some coagulants along with the IV to replenish her blood and other fluids. Do you know how much she has been sleeping lately?"

The words did something to reassure The master at arms, but he was still worried. The doctor's words drifted through his head, but it took him a few seconds to reply. " Sleep?? Yes, she's been getting as much sleep as she can Tathaa taught her a few anear mediation techniques to help her get some sleep. "


"Good, good," Asa said, tapping their chin thoughtfully for a moment. "Any new or strenuous physical activity prior to the transfer?""

" No, she's been taking it easy for the last month. She's just been doing paperwork. She was saying it had been driving her crazy through boredom." replied the master at arms.

With a quick laugh, Asa said, "Sounds exactly like her. I'm glad she was taking it easy. From what I'm reading, we just need to get her hormone and fluid levels back in balance and she will be right as rain. Sometimes just the emotional strain of expecting can cause this type of reaction, have no fear."

Buzzing around quickly, Asa gave a few injections and watched as the blue engineer's color returned to normal. Once she began stirring, Asa said to Thav, "I'll leave you two to speak. I'm just outside if you need me."

" Thank you, doctor." replied the master at arms as he gripped his bondmates hand as her eyes opened. " Tahv..." She said weakly. " What happened are they okay?"

" There fine my love. You just need to rest. You hurt yourself a little during the transfer. " He said gripping her hand tightly as their antenna intertwined.

It was going to be a long night.

Thex’s andorian nature had always made her grumpy when she was unable to do her job. That had made the hardest part of her career in Starfleet the time she would be confined to sickbay. It drove her mad to be confined to the biobed with the drip in her arm without even some paperwork to keep her occupied.

At least now she had the images of her twins to give her something to keep her occupied, so it wasn't all bad. Both of them had emerged from their eggs, and were now attached to Tathaa, where they would spend the last three months before emerging from her pouch.

She was looking at the images of her perfect girls when she heard the medbay door opening. A smile spread over her blue face as she saw Rita step into the medical bay and come towards her. "Hello Rita, how are you this fine day?" asked the chief engineer.

“I am doing fine… I heard you were laid up, so I figured you were likely going stir crazy,” the gold-clad commander in the mod minidress explained as she entered the room, pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bedside of the sapphire-skinned sprite of the Hera. “So I thought I would come by and drop off a few technical problems that have come across my desk lately that a talented engineer ought to be able to fix while flat on her back.”

With that said, Rita produced a stack of PaDDs from behind her back, settling them down on the bedside next to Thex. While one data device could hold a library’s worth of information, Paris was unsurprisingly old school about such things, and tended to keep issues separate by keeping them on separate data devices to work on. Which was a habit she continued when handing out assignments.

Thex let out a chuckle and a grin. Her best friend could read her like a book. "Thanks. Those will keep my mind occupied for a while... thank you, my friend." She placed the padds on her side table before turning back to her friend.

"Rita... I'd like to apologize. I know you've been wanting to ask me questions about andorian biology, and I'm sorry for not being willing to answer them. It's just..." The andorian girl said as she began to fiddle with her hands. "Well, I've been absolutely terrified about the transfer. I didn't want to lose my girls and the last thing I wanted was to be reminded about it. I'm sorry if I appeared rude."

Handing the engineer a fidget cube, Rita sat down on the edge of the biobed. "You weren't rude, Thex- honest. It was just- you were so exasperated about it, and I'll admit I was curious. I mean, your culture wasn't super well known back in my day. You're my friend, these are your babies, I want to be here for you, but bringing it up made you touchy, so... I kind of didn't know what to do. So I avoided you, and I'm sorry for that. It was just so awkward, sorry."

"Are you okay now, at least?" the buxom bombardier swept the blonde hair from her eyes as her eyes scanned the biobed's monitors, realizing they were... very complex.

"Yeah, just need to get my blood levels back up. I did lose a bit when the eggs ripped up my uterus on their way out. According to the doc it's rather a common result from the first time a bond transfers the eggs." Thex explained. "Um... as you don't know much about us, would you like me to start at the beginning on how it all works?"

"In for a penny, in for a pound. Sure," Rita offered with a good-natured smile. "Something tells me this isn't going to be the last time I encounter Andorian reproduction, so I may as well get the hang of it now. Besides, I'd like to understand what you went through. Culturally sensitize me, Thex!"

"Well, as you already know, andorians have four separate sexes. The chan and the thaan are equivalent to human males, with each providing half of the chromosomes needed to fertilize an andorian egg. When an attempt at making children happens, they take it in turns to fertilize the egg, which is carried by the shen. They will also do the same to the thaan which will start pheromone production on her for the eventually carrying off the zygote. The eggs grow in the shen until the period roughly 3.6 months later, in which time the transfer happens." Thex explained pausing every now and again to take a drink of water.

"The transfer is actually the dangerous part. The chan and thaan will start it off by fertilizing the egg again which will cause it to start to break. Then the shen and the zhen must remain in contact for several hours whilst the eggs are transferred into the zhen. At such time the eggs should have broken, allowing the zygote to move up into the zhen pouch which will open up three months later when they've fully developed." Thex finished.

“So we’re at the ‘just moved’ part now… so all four of you had a long night here in Sickbay then?” While Paris was of course easily able to access the duty logs, in this case it was more important to keep expecting mother engaged.

"No, we did the transfer down in our quarters. Everything seemed to go well, except my private parts didn't stop bleeding. Thav brought me down here- he was so worried due to our species’ low blood clotting factor. The eggs have been safely moved to Tathaa, and our girls are now out of the eggs, and in her pouch," Thex explained. "I'm just in here until my blood gets back to normal levels, and to make sure the bleeding has stopped."

“Well, I’m glad you are okay, as well as the rest of the family,” Rita offered with a smile, taking the brilliant blue hand in her own pale pink hand. “So, now that they are out of the eggs and out of you, how’s pending motherhood feeling?”

Thex let out a slight joyful sigh as she leaned back against her pillow. "Terrifying. It's only three and a bit months before I'll be able to hold them in my arms, and the thought of it is terrifying. I don't want to hurt my little girls," she said, looking at the image on the side table. The two zygotes were perfectly healthy other than one being a heterochromia iridium.

“Not sure if it’s the same thing but…. I worry about that with kids, too,” Rita admitted. “I do okay running a starship and keeping the crew in line, but what if I turn out to be the same sort of parent as my father? What if all I do in trying to be a good parent is screw them up? Is that what you’re worried about, or is it more a physical thing for you?”

" Yeah, that's what I'm terrified about. I can fix a starship, ancient god superweapons, dance as well as any orion and I can fight anything the galaxy can throw at me, but I don't know how to raise kids. Hell, my own parents were dam cultist who believed the vulcans were putting sterilization fluid in the water. What if I turn my girls into them?" Thex said clearly concerned.

“Sonak has a theory,” Rita began. “Of course, when does my logical spouse NOT have a theory? But the relevant theory in this case is that our 7upbringing will always attempt to inform how we interact with children. However, we have grown so much from those experiences and come so much further as people than our parents ever did, that it is practically impossible for us to repeat the same mistakes with our kids. Because in emulating our parents, we would immediately recognize such a pattern and course adjust.”

“Not the most emotionally reassuring state, but as the man says, ‘Logic does not reassure. Logic simply exists as fact.’ So take that for what it’s worth,” Rita chuckled.

"I guess and he does have a theory about everything, and I do have you to watch over me. Promise me you'll kick my blue ass if I start screwing them up, won't you Rita?" Thex said with a grin forming on her face. Her human buddy from another time could always cheer her up.

At that, the human girl scoffed. "Are you kidding me? You have three, count them, three other parents involved. You have a wealth of experience and culture to raise them with, and plenty of spare hands, as you pointed out. An old Earth saying is that it take a tribe to raise a child. Andorians build a tribe to raise a child. So you are going to do great- in that I have every confidence. You'll give your kids a home, stability, love and make them feel special- all the things you never got in your childhood."

"Which is another theory of Sonak's, but you have to admit- one that's not so bad if you think about it," Rita offered with a grin. Picking up the top PaDD from the side table, Rita handed it back to Thex. "This one is games. Puzzles, visual cue games and reflex testers. Let your mind wander and relax for a little bit while you are laid up. hm? It doesn't have to be boring- just not work. And just a suggestion, by no means an order, workaholic."

"Will do, commander," Thex replied with a grin. Her friend always did know what to say to settle her mind. Hey, when I've recovered from this, you want to book a holodeck? Would be nice to go swimming again."

“Sure, of course! We can go surf the Great barrier reef in Australia if you like- it’s a beautiful beach, and the water and the waves are amazing. I’d like that a lot!” Leave it to the girl from the polar world to want to go somewhere warm to enjoy her spare time. But Rita was grateful for it- she loved the oceans of her homeworld, and visiting them always made her feel a connection to her planet of origin, which she loved dearly. Despite her proclivity to wander away from it for years on end, exploring the stars.

“So what’s the verdict, how long do they plan to keep you in the Gulag here?” Rita joked, hoping the Sickbay personnel would not hear her joke and be offended. “And speaking of, how’s Tathaa holding up?”

"Tathaa's doing fine. Helps when you're an empath- she knows exactly how our daughters are feeling. Though according to Oribiar, she's eating like crazy. As for me, the doc wants to keep me in here till the end of the day, just to be safe," Thex said a happy grin on her face.

"The end of the day? I brought you enough work for like a week!" Rita joked. "Well, good to know that all is well with you and your family. You'll be the first among us all to have little ones. Unless the birds beat you to it- I have no idea how all of that works either, but apparently they're working on it too. And of course there's the captain's little orphan, which doesn't exactly count but kind of does, in the 'first of the next generation' theme we seem to have going on here on the Hera."

"Hey, everyone on this ship is family. A large, manic family that messes around with section 31 tech and ancient god weapons. Knowing the universe, our kids will be following in the family footsteps," Thex replied with the grin still plastered on her face.

"We'd better hope so..." Rita replied with a thoughtful frown.

"Indeed. Now the big question we're looking at is what to call our two girls. We have a list, but it keeps going up," Thex said, grinning to her friend.

"Well, in our case, if it helps," Rita explained, offering her thoughts on the matter. "In true logical fashion, we pre-chose for the first 3, boy and girl names. The criteria were that they got one human and one Vulcan name, and they could chose to go by either or both, same with my last name. But we're a cross-cultural marriage, so it's a little different for us. My family's rule has always been keep it short and simple. It has to be culturally appropriate, but no more than two syllables and keep it direct. Our first, if it's a boy, will be S'kon Jack Paris, named for Sonak's father and a tradition of my people. A girl will be named T'Ping Valentina Paris, after both our mothers."

"Which Valentina is three syllables, I know, but I gave it to her as a middle name, and it's easily shortened if she wishes. Besides, the women in our family always seem to screw with one another when it comes to middle names..." Rita admitted with a bit of a chuckle. "So does that give you any ideas?"

"A little, but it doesn't really help when my species only has two names and one of them is the clan name. Two of the names we'd been looking at is Tothye and Decises. They were two nymph children of Hephaestus's according to the legends." Thex spoke thinking of the suggestion her anear and her operations officer had suggested. It did seem rather appropriate give what Thex and got working.

"Classical names are very evocative and powerful. Name a kid Sampson and he'll show you his strength. Ah, that's another Earth legend. Another one where the woman is painted as the villain and betrayer, come to think of it. My culture was pretty misogynist for a very long time. Some of them still struggle with it."

Lost in reverie for a few seconds, Rita refocused. "Point being, yes, those sound like lovely names. Whose, ah, whose family name do they take? All four of you still have your own individual family names still, according to the manifest."

"The clan name?" Thex asked before realizing that that was what Rita was asking about. "We plan on letting them decide which one they wish to take, although we'll use mine until they can decide which one to adopt."

“Not dissimilar in our case… if the children decide they don’t want to be of the Paris clan, they can opt for the Vulcan last name which is unpronounceable by humans, or choose to use their middle names, or whatever they choose, we'll honor it. Come to think of it, I still don’t know what that Vulcan last name is… Sonak was happy to let me just be Mrs. Paris, and that was that for him. Having a logical spouse is a huge time saver, I must admit,” Rita added with a grin, as speaking of her own somber scientist always brought a smile to her face.

"I know the feeling. It does help when your spouses are bonded to you," Thex said feeling slightly happier with herself. "I just hope that lasts when the girls arrive."

"What do you mean, Thex?" Rita asked. "Do they not stick around or something?"

"No, they're sticking around," Thex replied. "It's just... you can read about how to look after kids, but nothing prepares you for it. I just hope it doesn't change us, is all. I love all three of them Rita, more than my own soul."

On the one hand, it seemed as though that was a very bold statement to make after such a short time. But, it had been like that for her as well with her logical lover as well. They led elaborate lives, and their passions often defined them. Large emotional commitments came with the territory, and who was she to judge. Patting Thex's leg in the bed, Rita shrugged and rolled her eyes skyward. "I imagine kids do change us. We're responsible for an entire person- we've brought them into this galaxy, now we have to teach them how to live in it. Hopefully to be good citizens and build on our accomplishments, so we create a legacy that spans the centuries."

Rolling her eyes back to the Andorian shen's polar baby blues, the bombshell bombardier beamed a brilliant smile, cover girl worthy. "Life is change, Thex, good and bad. But change is good- it challenges us, and teaches us how to be better at being ourselves, doing our jobs, being good citizens of the universe. If we fear changem, we fear the universe. And I have it on good authority that the universe is not unkind, Lieutenant Commander sh'Zoarhi."

Rising from the biobed, Rita smoothed out her dress, her finger lingering at the hemline to tug it down in a gesture she'd been practicing since she'd started wearing the classic minidress uniform nearly a century and a half ago. "So... you, I have no doubt, will be well and you'll be up and about as soon as Doc Dael signs your release to light duty for 48 hours- you know it's coming, so don't even try to argue with the doctor. Once you are back on your feet and we're in a calm moment, let's get our families together for dinner. I'll make something big and hearty and we can catch up. Deal?"

"Deal." Thex said with a grin on her face as she leaned back on the biobed. She was feeling rather tired all of a sudden.

"I'm off for a cross-country run- I'm going to try polar conditions, just for you," Rita said with a grin and a wave. "Patience, my friend. The joy of a linear existence is that whatever point in the future you are waiting for, it will arrive due to the inevitability of time. Thus nothing lasts forever, including your stay in sickbay. See you soon enough, hm?"

With that, the golden girl of the Hera made her exit, leaving the antennae of the Andorian girl sagging as she relaxed, surrounded by reports and comforting work.

" Take care Rita. " Thex said as she leaned back against her pillow and picked up the padd her friend had left her.

On the turbolift of the U.S.S. Hera, Intelligence Operative Jaeih Dox, was on her way up to the starship’s somewhat mysterious Intel pod. Having been granted clearance as a part of her new position as an independent agent of the intel starship, this would be the elder Romulan’s first visit to the hub of the Hera’s secrets. Thus she was understandably intrigued.

In her hands, folded behind her back, was a PaDD with all of the collected data from her reports on the now infamous ‘Cleopatra Mudd’ incident. The cybernetically enhanced daughter of Davo Mudd and the Hera’s own Vulcan refugee Az’Prel, Mudd had successfully tricked her way through every kind of sensor and scanner on the Hera. After which she had overcome a brig forcefield with ease to transport away with her devious father, leaving the crew of the Starship Hera with proverbial egg on their collective faces.

So Jaeih was on her way to the Pod to consult with the Illarian Yeoman Ila Dedjoy, the Hera’s resident Mad Scientist. Who now resided in an android body of her own creation. As the turbolift reached its destination on Deck E of the Intel Pod, the lift computer performed a passive scan of the Romulan woman before the doors wooshed open.

On the other side of the lift doors seemed to be an entirely different starship. The corridor greeting her was gunmetal gray, and narrower than the regular corridors of the Hera. Along the walls were covered with tubes and pipes crisscrossing overhead, and the clean and comfortable Starfleet aesthetic seemed conspicuously absent in this more utilitarian and functional version of starship design. Stepping out, Jaeih took in her surroundings casually as she began to make her way to her destination.

As Jaeih turned the corner towards Yeoman Dedjoy's office, she was momentarily surprised by the sight of the Hera's golden garbed First Officer, Commander Rita Paris, standing outside, looking intensely over a PaDD in her hands and clearly waiting for something. "Commander?" She said, to get Rita's attention.

Looking up in mild surprise, the fulsome first officer recognized Mrs. Dox, as she tended to refer to the elder Romulan woman onboard. While diversity was the watchword on the Hera, Romulans were still few and far between in Starfleet. And in this case, the mother-daughter team of Dox and Dox had to have a differential between them. As she was uncomfortable referring to a woman who was her elder by her first name, as well as being unprofessional in her eyes, the old-fashioned officer always deferred to the simple honorific by which she would refer to the mother of a peer.

“Mrs. Dox… fancy meeting you here,” Paris quipped, although the small smile she offered was not one of merriment as was usually the case. ”If you’re coming to meet with yeoman Dedjoy, I suspect we are on the same mission- determining just how Ms. Mudd managed to fool our sensors and transporter, as well as what that stasis field she dropped was and just how she managed to penetrate an active forcefield and identify its frequency?”

Stepping up to Paris, Jaeih had her somewhat standard, stern expression well in place, but a more relaxed posture showcasing her increased comfort around one of the very few humans in the galaxy that she both liked and respected. "Indeed, Commander. I have been combing over the files of all of the instances of late in which the ship's sensors proved inadequate, starting with the attack on Mn... on Lieutenant Dox."

"And Mudd's technology in specific has clearly leapt past Starfleet and Romulan levels as my review of the sensors in your EVA suits shows that they are state of the art. Ergo, we must move beyond state of the art if we are to catch and defeat him and them. And this seemed to be the place to go to see what can be done in this regard."

“In that, Mrs. Dox, we concur,” Paris offered grimly. “We’ll not be fooled again. Which means we’ll need to analyze this data thoroughly to insure we are prepared for our next and final encounter with Mr. Mudd and his agents.”

Once the doors finally unsealed and they were let in, Ila Dedjoy greeted them with her large eyed smile, ice crystals in her hair and clothing. "Sorry for the wait. I accidentally flooded the chamber with neutron radiation and had to vent the lab into space while... Ah... I'll explain inside. Please, come in." Stepping aside, she motioned for the pair to enter the expansive lab of the ship's resident mad scientist and Captain's Yeoman.

Slightly taken aback, Jaeih cautiously stepped in behind a much more confident Rita Paris, taking in the room as she did. "Uh, pardon my asking, but 'Neutron Radiation'? You look remarkably healthy for that to have just happened?"

The former Tal'Shiar agent was both confused and curious. She had read Dedjoy's personnel file, but at her clearance level, it was fairly light with nothing referencing how the petite, wide-eyed young woman could survive such an event unscathed. There was, however, an anomalous detail that she was curious about: A date for the young woman's death was listed.

Ila gave the Romulan woman a strange look, her large doll-like eyes blinking a couple of times. "Ah, I suppose introductions and explanations are in order. I am Yeoman Ila Dedjoy. I was lost on a recent mission but was able to be mostly rescued and built an android body for myself to survive. Most forms of radiation, as well as the vacuum of space have little effect on me now." Ila offered a handshake in greeting. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm told by Ensign Gonadie that you're the resident expert on cloaking tech."

Cricking an eyebrow at how matter-of-fact the explanation for something that sounded significantly more dramatic had been, Jaeih returned the handshake as she replied. "Jolan'Tru, Yeoman Dedjoy. My name is Jaeih Dox. I am working with the ship as an intelligence consultant, but am also a graduate of the Romulan Engineering Academy with a specialty in Cloaking Field Technology."

"A pleasure meeting you. I'm a geologist by trade, but I earned my name by developing scanners that could see black crystals that reflected conventional scans and developed them into data storage and transfer tech. I'm told that Miradonian stealth units use effectively identical crystals." Ila was not one to mince words, nor one to brag, but there was a hint of pride in her voice as she mentioned earning her name. After all, it was still an important thing for Illarans. "I foresee your aid being of great import as we sort through the sensor logs."

“Our Miss Dedjoy is something of an expert in cybernetic systems, having studied them extensively during her supervision of the construction of a chassis to house her remaining biological bits after her sacrifice to save others in a quantum surge,” Paris explained. “Thus she is the logical choice to spearhead an investigation such as this one. Although hearing it spoken aloud like that it does sound a bit callous… good morning, Yeoman. It’s good to see you.”

When Paris smiled again, it was more the usual Human expression of warmth and greeting, as it was abundantly clear that she was quite fond of the doll-eyed Ilaran cybernetic crewman.

"Always a pleasure to see you as well, Commander. Lucky would say hi as well, but I have him so piled up with tasks..." Ila waved one hand at the ceiling as she headed further into her lab, picking up a few random looking devices as she did so.

That warmth coming off of Rita Paris was all that the otherwise cautious Romulan woman needed to relax her guard slightly. If Rita Paris spoke highly of someone, then it was earned as far as Jaeih was concerned. "Well, I offer any aid I can in our work here, Miss Dedjoy. Having worked with Ensign Gonadie on her modified Cloak for the Cyclone project, I can attest to not only her exceptional skill, but the value of crystals in question. I believe they were instrumental in circumventing the power allotment issues that have plagued cloaking fields for centuries."

"And it's those crystals that I think will come in handy again," Ila replied excitedly, handing Jaeih a normal science tricorder and a clearly modified intel tricorder with the casing still open and parts hanging out. "I have crystal circuitry in my nervous system as a key component, and I was able to recreate the effects that Cleopatra Mudd used to hide her cybernetic enhancements and true appearance to an extent. If you use the normal tricorder I should read almost identically as a normal Illaran."

Standing off away from anything else, Ila held her arms out away from herself. "But if you use my modified tricorder... Which is an older intel model used by Section 31 before they were disbanded, which is still more advanced... Which I integrated a miniaturized version of my crystal scanner tech into using the crystals themselves... You should be able to read the quantum flux state of not only me, but of my mirror universe counterpart. If you so desired..."

As Dedjoy spoke, Jaeih used her PaDD to call up a set of baseline Illarian vitals as a point of reference, then ran a full scan with the standard Science Tricorder, walking partly around the petite subject to be through. "Remarkable, Commander. There is zero variation in readings. It's a perfect sensor feedback. No echoing. No phase shift. Nothing. According to this tricorder, Miss Dedjoy here is completely organic and unenhanced."

“So my question becomes, is this sensor camouflage we are seeing, designed to reflect actual scans to give false readings, or is it jamming, or is it a forcefield that prevents the scans from penetrating, or are the organics of the system confusing the sensors? After all, it fooled the transporter, and it had to disassemble and reassemble her.” At that, a barely perceptible shudder ran through Paris’ frame, which only a trained observer would likely note.

The former Tal'Shair agent handed the tricorder to the gilded Commander for review as she looked at the newly modified model she had also been handed, working her way around the dangling wires and open panels. After familiarizing herself with the slightly different interface, Jaeih began a deep scan. With the panels open, the tricorder was significantly louder than normal, but after a few seconds, Jaeih's eyebrows raised.

"There it is. A Quantum flux phase variation of... six point zero seven on a frequency of..." Sounding remarkably like her daughter when she was working through a problem, Jaeih began talking in sentence fragments out loud as she tucked her PaDD under her arm and began adjusting the Tricorder's settings manually.

"You accidentally flooded the compartment with NEUTRON radiation. A byproduct of Cloaking device usage. This... this is a form of a signal cloak. In the same basic fashion that a cloaked ship mirrors the effects of normal space to fool a ships sensors as well as the naked eye, this is... It's remarkable that the power sources are escaping basic detection and not boosting your internal temperature to physically noticeable levels. But... here. Look."

Handing the Tricorder back to Dedjoy, Jaeih had an almost excited expression as she worked things out in her head. "If you KNOW you're looking for a quantum flux phase variation, you can reroute sensor functions away from everything that we KNOW will be a false data stream. All the vital signals are projections. Don't waste the processing power on them and we can get a 25% plus gain on the reception. Quantum variation is picking up now at twenty-six point three."

Ila motioned towards the tricorder excitedly. "Exactly! If I'm right, that tricorder should be able to see through any cloaking device, no matter how advanced, at around fifty meters. With a little work, I think I can integrate this into a few of our EVA suits. The bad news is that we only have enough pure crystal samples to make maybe a dozen such systems."

“The good news is there is a planetary system of them out there,” Paris remarked, referring to the newly formed genesis system known as the Dedjoy system. While much of the science was over her head, the ancient astronaut occupied herself with the practical elements of the situation, upon which she was qualified to comment and strategize.

"True, but it's considerably further away than I'd like." Ila tapped her chin in thought for a moment. "Though I did finish the shielding on the quantum displacement drive... And being docked here at the fortress this long has given me a chance to restore our stock of quantum particles... We could do two jumps with the drive now. Alternately, something like three hundred transports with the quantum displacement transporter if we had precise coordinates."

“Or I could make a requisition of one of the survey teams working those planets, and have them send a shuttle our way with the requested supplies,” Paris offered, seeking a more practical solution. “While we will need to upgrade the systems, it doesn’t have to happen today. Hell, we could go ourselves.”

True. We likely have some time." Ila thought on this for a few. "And we have a start at the very least."

Thoroughly confused at the references to an entire planetary system of the crystals in question, Jaeih re-focused the discussion slightly. "And we currently have enough for twelve functioning scanning devices, correct? That's an effective start to ensure we aren't caught unawares again."

"But Commander Paris also raised another point that I am thinking about. We transported her. Twice." Jaeih continued beginning to pace as she thought. "So, the transporter had to have scanned her properly, or she would have materialized in pieces if it was receiving false data. Which means that she must have had additional technology to rewrite the transport log records or something similar. Something that worked instantly to ensure that the security scanners wouldn't call out her deception? That means we actually might have a detailed scan of her hidden in the transporter system... unless it was completely overwritten? Is that a reasonable hypothesis?"

"It's an incredibly good point and I'm glad you brought it up." Ila headed over to one of her workstations and brought up the transporter data logs. "Lucky is going over them now, but it seems that she has a built in transporter, inhibitor, and..." Tapping a bit more, she pulled up the buffer data, revealing a full scan of the woman's true form. "She disengaged her sensor blockers long enough for us to transport her both times. Our logs would have been overwritten if our own protections hadn't prevented it. As advanced as she is, the Hera itself is just a touch more so."

"Say Lucky," Paris turned those bright blue eyes to the overhead as she called upon a marvel of the future. "Be a dear and fetch those scans and bring us up a holographic representation of our little turnabout intruder, if you would please?"

There was a slight delay, then the clipped British baritone of the Intel pod AI spoke up. "I'll put a few processes on hold for you, since you asked so nicely, Commander."

Which was when a holographic representation of Cleopatra Mudd appeared, side by side. Both images were of the ragamuffin version, side by side. "These are both scans, from both transporters. There are some subtle variances that might suggest redirected power flows to different systems, so I thought you might want to compare both for additional date analysis possibility."

It was Lucky showing off just a teensy bit, which tended to make Ila's eyes roll.

"Wait..." Jaeih interjected, eyebrow raised. "Is this scan data... of her true appearance or the illusion? Which was real?"

"This is the physical and biological configuration she was in at the time she was processed by the transporter buffers," Lucky replied, highlighting several cybernetic implants within her. "However, with her internal holographic and replication systems, I estimate that the subject could in theory completely change her appearance in under thirty seconds."

Looking at Commander Paris as she processed the information, Jaeih commented. "So it wasn't just illusion. She can physically alter her appearance on command. That's useful. And now we have her schematics."

"Well, at least she can't turn into a table lamp... wait, with holographic camoflage, she might. Ugh, she is going to be such a pain to... catch..." The eyes of the human girl from Earth narrowed and her lips pursed in thought. "We'll have to get her to come to us, and for her to think she's running a con on us, but we'll be running a con on her."

Rolling her eyes, the intuitive executive continued studying the systems. "So she can generate sensor bluffs of all sorts, and shields- oh, nice, to block beaming as well as for self-defense, and the same emitters are used for the holocamoflage as well. So like a cloaked vessel, she doesn't have the power to run the shields and the cloak at the same time... good to know, although I'll bet the sensor bluffs are... aha, separate power source, look at that."

While the throwback officer wasn't technologically well-educated nor was her knowledge base particularly up to date, the detailed holographics Lucky was producing included labels for systems and illustrated connections. For while the knowledge and skill were absent, imagination and intuition often seemed to suffice.

"All right, shapeshifting sensor blind holocamo Mudd girl, internal replicator, kind of like our rifles, but very nicely miniaturized. I guess she carries some mass blocks to compensate her weight... there. Replicator's in the arm here, look at the density of this wedge behind it... great galaxies, look at her fingers... what is all of that? It's like she has swiss army fingers," Paris remarked, noting the dozens of tiny tools built into the fingers of the young woman, before she stood and eyed the furtive hologram.

"He took her hands. I wonder if that was by accident, like Sam... or by design." Grimly, the bombastic blonde shook her head. "He did all of this to her. She doesn't even have her own hands and feet. There's no birth defect he's correcting with all of this, no excuse of it keeping her alive. Mudd did this to her... all of this.... for himself. To make her the perfect accomplice. His own daughter. It's... monstrous."

"To her it's normal, the life they lead, being the way that she is. She was born and raised into it- the only life she's ever known. That bastard cut her up and stuffed his crummy robot parts into her until she's barely half alive. How do we fix that?" The eyes of the ancient astronaut grew wet with tears. "How can we teach her there's a better way after all of that, what about poor Az'Prel?"

While Rita spoke, all Jaeih could do was think of her friend, Az'Prel. Of the torment she was feeling throughout all if this.

"That's her mother, right?" Ila asked softly, looking over the scans as well, pulling one of them apart as she did so seemingly looking for something specific. "I have no idea. How do you tell a mother her daughter is a demented and twisted cyborg mockery of the Borg that's designed to tear down and destroy everything we have created and brainwashed by a psychopath? Ah, here we go. If we use a twenty three phase chronometric shield, we can keep her from breaking through it. I'll need at least a few weeks to invent one..."

Sighing, Jaeih turned to Dedjoy as she pondered the yeoman's question. "I wish I knew. Every new bit of information seems to break Az'Prel down that much more. She is trying to lean on her logic. And lean on us, but I fear that she will succumb to the horror of all this."

Off to starboard, before another word could be said, a monitor lit up. On it was the youthful face of the young Vulcanoid android Kodria, therir ersatz niece from the future. In most of her messages she was smiling cheerfully... but not so much this time.

"If you're getting this message, I left it with Lucky, so he decided to show it to you. This means Cleopatra and Davo Mudd both got away, which means you're all in really big trouble. See, he brags about it- the uniform, his taunts-" A sensor clip played, showing Davo Mudd being chokeholded by Az'Prel.

"...there might be a place for you in the new Empire we're to raise. You could have your old job back!"

"Then there's all this..." Kodria winced and sensor log clips began playing, disp[laying Arenara Artan as she dueled Captain Telvan.

"...stakes so high the universe itself is the prize..."

"Society is a lie the weak convince the strong to go along with so they can survive and thrive."

"You'd be surprised how easy it is to peel away and make civilized men into savages."

Kodria's concerned face returned to the screen as she pleaded with her audience, sometime in the future. "Apparently great grandmama had planned to rule as the empress of the Terran Empire, but how she was going to- oh, right, that body-swapping sword Mudd created. So this message is assuming Grandma is still herself and not, you know, grandmama... but either way, their plan is still the same."

"They're going to go back in time... to change first contact with the Vulcans, to lead the charge on the T'Plana-Hath to loot it for humanity, to kickstart their race to conquer the stars. One tense scene in history they can change with a gunshot and a few narcotics, and history will go very, very badly for us all. They're trying to go back to start the Terran Empire. They'll kill the crew of the Enterprise circa 2373 too, which will be kind of moot in the overall rewriting of history and all, but still... You have to stop them!"

Then the message froze on Kodria's frantic and frightened face, and silence fell.

...there might be a place for you in the new Empire we're to raise...

The blonde brows of the first officer contorted in suspicious curiosity, as if she'd made a sudden connection.

Ila was the first to break that silence. "That's a problem... Lucky, activate chronometric shielding around the ship immediately."

Within half a second, Lucky replied. "Shielding activated. Shall I begin calculations for slingshots or for quantum displacements to the correct temporal coordinates?"

Ila didn't even have to think about her answer. "Both please. Who knows which one we'll need."

"Dear Captain," Paris muttered as she tapped at the screen of her PaDD. "So it turns out we have to time travel and interfere with First Contact." Shaking her head, the unconventional officer chuckled mirthlessly.

"Oh, the reports I write on this ship..."

It would be the year 2474 before the Starfleet Secrecy Act would run out on the report of this mission, in point of fact. The day it was declassified, Rita Paris was notified, and she dutifully read her logs from a lifetime ago with her morning coffee. Her memories of those missions was unsurprisingly nowhere near as clear after so long a life lived. There was considerable joy for the aged astronaut in seeing her youthful self, and hearing the concise and spirited reports of her heyday.

The Ambassador's wife still recalled most of the stories, although the details were still fascinating to observe, at least to her. Following her own career of the past as it declassified, day by day.

Enalia stared out of her ready room window for a moment as she readied herself for the briefing she was about to give. Just outside her window, the Artan Family Orbital Fortress was caught in temporal flux because of a time quake that was currently happening. The Hera was doing its best to maintain shielding and was ok, but the station was cycling between the 140km snowglobe she knew and loved and an antique K-7 series deep space station that looked like it had seen better days.

Sighing, she picked up the stack of encrypted Intel PaDDs on her desk that had been preloaded with all the relevant details and headed out, walking the short distance to the conference room of the refit Nebula class ship. Thankfully, she had waited for everyone else to assemble first and waved off the attempt to call the room to order as she entered. "At ease. We've got bigger worries, as you can see by looking out the windows."

Slipping one of the PaDDs into a dock on the conference table, she handed the rest to Commander Paris so she could pass them down the table. "These contain the situation as we know it, but to be blunt... Mudd has dirtied our timeline."

"Wow, that's sad. Mudd's plan is to rewrite human history by turning it into Terran history, at the critical chronal juncture of Bozeman, Montana, planet Earth, year 2063. He greets the T'Plana-Hath with a shotgun instead of an open hand, and leads the humans inside to loot the Vulcan scout ship for it's treasures. Which sends humanity down that dark path to the Terran Empire. Which really saddens me that all of the destiny of humanity could be led astray by one jerk with a gun. I'd really like to think we're better than that. But apparently..." As Paris spoke, the orbital fortress was no more, now replaced by a K-7 series primitive outpost.

With a heavy sigh, the ancient astronaut shook her head. "Apparently not."

''I am also puzzled by the fact that the T'Plana-Hath hadn't prepared for such a contingency,'' Sonak added with a thoughtful expression. ''It is an established fact that most other sentient species do not share our emotional control. Observing the living conditions on Earth at the time would have at least raised the hypothesis that the inhabitants would be unruly, fearful and needy; prominent ingredients for agressive behavior. Even a whole mob with primitive firearms should not have surprised them like this. Those Vulcans acted... illogically.''

“Fair point,” Paris admitted. “We’ll be on the lookout for NBC agents at work as well- perhaps he’ll be using gas to overcome proper logic in both the locals and the Vulcans. Another item for the list of preparations to make- excellent observation, Mr. Sonak.”

"Chrono team, we're going back in time to unscrew what Mr. Mudd has screwed up. Infiltrate Bozeman, find and incapacitate Mudd and his daughter, bring them back to the present in stasis. Get history back on course. Mister Sonak, as the only man I know who writes his own time travel equations, you're with me. Miss Dox, I believe flying through time should be a singular experience. Mister Clemens, I will be requiring historical data, and some on the fly. Miss Dedjoy, unusual technologies are Mr. Mudd's stock in trade. Best we bring someone good with tools along who specializes in exotic technologies. Questions?"

Yeoman Dedjoy raised her hand and spoke. "As a point of clarification, with Ensign Gonadie's help, I've installed one of her cloaking devices and a Quantum Displacement Drive Interface on the Danu as well as a pair of stasis units in the small medbay. As long as we can maintain a temporal link with Lucky, we can perform up to twelve jumps, granted we stay within the confines of this galaxy and time stream."

"You worked faster than I expected. You didn't send yourself a message about this, did you?" Enalia teased with a grin.

Ila shook her head, a hint of a grin on her face. "Ah, no ma'am. I merely calculated the odds of needing such an interface and invented one after I finished the original Displacement Drive. With the fortress in flux we won't be able to replenish our supply of particles, however..."

Enalia nodded solemnly. "Any actual questions so far then?"

''I presume, Captain, that you are planning to use the slingshot effect to initiate time travel,'' Sonak said. ''Be aware that such calculations do not allow for an exact target date. We might end up weeks if not months prior or after the chosen moment in time. Each repeated attempt would put severe strain on ship, equipment and personnel, up to the point of being unable to resume the mission. Moreover, we would need a vessel sturdy enough to face the excessive gravimetric, calorific and radiation stresses of flying close to a stellar mass and the subsequent brutal release from it's gravity well. As is stands, current Starfleet technology can only allow this with only a few ships, all of at least frigate class size... unless... we have one using retractable armor technology, like the one brought back by the USS Voyager. Last but not least, the more personnel and equipment we send back through time, the higher the probability of ourselves causing alterations if only by mere presence. But there is another option solving all of those problems; the Guardian of Forever.''

The spotted Captain rubbed the bridge of her nose in mild frustration. Of course he had ignored Ila's prior comments about the drive - they weren't established science and used in the Federation outside of the experimental Section 31 ships that the pod had been ripped from and now the Hera. "Neither of which are necessary with the Quantum Displacement Drive that Yeoman Dedjoy has rebuilt from our sister ship's pod systems. As I understand it, Lucky will navigate you through a fifth dimensional quantum network of... Tubes? Roots?" Looking to Ila for confirmation, all she got was a shrug and a nod. "That runs through all of spacetime to each destination using the drive and particles built up in the pod. Of course, the longer the trip through that network the more particles are used, so..."

"As for a sturdy ship, the Danu is the only runabout with multiphasic metaphasic shielding so if you do have to do a slingshot for whatever reason, she's the only one likely to not burn to a crisp as I'm told. As for the armor technology Voyager brought back, I'm told it's still a few more years before Starfleet scientists can reproduce it. We've done a slingshot in the Hera twice before and it was not fun for many races. I'll allow Humans to go, but no Trill, no Bolians, no... " Enalia shook her head and waved off the rest of the list. "The more resilient races with strong constitutions only."

"Now... About the Vulcans on the T'Plana-Hath. Az'Prel, would you care to field this? What's the difference between the Vulcans of this universe and the Vulcans of your... or a similar universe where the Terran Empire came to power?" Enalia motioned to the Vulcan freedom fighter that had been invited to the meeting for the latter half of the mission briefing, as well as insights such as this.

Nodding, Az'Prel began. "Aye, Captain. The Vulcans of my universe were far more emotional, driven by desire as well as their intellect. Coupled with their strength, those on the T'Plana-Hath would have posed as a diplomatic party until a larger force arrived to enslave humanity in ways in which they would smile and enjoy it. In a way, the best response to the landing party was violence. If the Vulcans of this universe are all Logicians... I believe violence would backfire and cause the deaths of many as well as escalated conflict with the Vulcans, as well as any races they are allied with."

''There would be no escalation,'' Sonak objected. ''Vulcans of this era had not yet all lost their way. It is true that, before Jonathan Archer brought back the katra of Surak, the Vulcan way of life had been perverted by a few deviant individuals in high places. But when Zephrom Cochrane's first warp flight happened, the Vulcans of the survey ship were uncorrupted followers of Surak. As scientists only driven by logic, they would have made a preliminary survey of the devastated planet, noted the potential for violence of primitive Earthers and taken appropriate precautions before landing. And like their actions, their reactions would be determined only by logic; and even facing violence, violence is not the first logical response.''

Before someone would raise any counter argument, he raised a finger.

''That being said, what they would have found after some careful observations was that humanity at the time was weakened and exhausted by decades of conflict, left without resources and dulled to apathy by the fall of their civilization and the rigors of survival. Focusing on the Montana community where the Phoenix had come from, they would have found one of the more peaceful communities on the planet; one appropriate for first contact. The presence of this Mudd character there would therefore be an unexpected unknown and they could indeed be left surprised by some violent action on his part.''

His fingers joined before his lips a moment before he resumed his thoughts.

''I doubt the rest of the community in this universe would rush in and pillage the ship as it allegedly did in his; and it would be highly unlikely to succeed. At the first sign of danger, shields would go up and lift off would immediately follow. However, pillage would not be necessary to drastically alter history. Even if the people of Bozeman were to instead disarm and subdue Mudd after his crime, as would be the most probable outcome here, an attack on the Vulcans would still means the end of the Federation a century before it's birth."

"The Vulcans would depart, classify the Sol system as off limits and under surveillance... but most of all, deprive Earth of the initial Human-Vulcan alliance that helped bring forth the United Earth and later the United Federation of Planets. Without the help of Vulcan, Cochrane be unable to improvise the resources to expand upon his initial success, from which humanity found unity and purpose. Dictatorships would continue to prevail among the survivors and, if not a Terran Empire, a fractured, isolated humanity of warring territories would ensue. Which would eventually stagnate and decline, without ever contributing to the existence of our present timeline.''

The grey eyes of Sonak cut to those of his commanding officer.

''All this Mudd needs to do is fire one shot, at the right moment.''

Glancing out the window at the mockery of her family's station, Captain Telvan came to the grim conclusion that the sensible science officer was quite correct. "Your logic is sound and explains... That... With no Starfleet..."

With a heavy sigh, she moved on to the next mission brief. "Okay, so if there are no other questions... We need to discuss the matter of Moira Artan. She still needs a genetic donor. Jaeih, Az'Prel, Malana, and Varnok will all be assigned to that mission. Lieutenant Dox has kindly allowed us the use of the ah... Kah... Kahli... Her ship."

Rather than correct the Captain on the name of her personal j-type ship, Dox simply nodded and gave a brief report on the Khallianen's status as it's name was on the report in everyone's hands. "Aye. She's fully repaired and operational, Captain. Intel has prepared new credentials, serial numbers and transponder codes so that there will be nothing to identify her as property of a Starfleet officer or an Artan Baroness at any Orion Syndicate checkpoints."

While her daughter spoke, Jaeih Dox was reading over the file on her involvement in this mission and her stomach tightened with anger. She would not let an innocent child suffer if she could help it. As Mnhei'sahe finished, the elder Romulan adder her piece.

"As for Inris Four where our target is located, I've been there on business many times and still have a few contacts I may be able to take advantage of. Security is tight, but not aggressively so considering the nature of their business and generally seedy clientele. We should be able to circumvent it without undue problems, Captain."

Then the salt and pepper haired former Tal'Shiar agent looked at her friend and partner on the mission, Az'Prel, and nodded slightly. "And I believe I can speak for Az'Prel when I say that we will not allow ourselves to fail you or Moira. You have my word."

Looking over the information that they had Thex was feeling worried. Time travel was always something to keep her up at night. I take it I'm to keep the Hera in one piece and make sure she'll be here when you get back?" She said looking at her captain.

"Yeah, I'll be occupied with the continued restructure of the Artan family as well, so the ship will be yours for the duration." Enalia paused a moment before continuing. "I've... Also had a request from the medical staff and my wife to try and get some proper rest... If you need me, I'll be around, but... Doctor's orders and all that. I have faith in all of you and know you'll all succeed without me to watch over your every move." Enalia's normal lopsided piratical grin was weary, but still there as she looked out across those assembled.

''We shall perform our duties as Starfleet officers should, Captain.''

Stating the obvious was a Vulcan trademark and Sonak was no exception. And despite having spent decades among humans, he still missed sarcasm from time to time; like now.

But his pledge was no less strong.

"Well said, Mr. Sonak, well said," Commander Paris acknowledged. The chief science officer's logic had framed the situation- now it fell to them to prevent it from coming to pass. "All right crew, we have our assignments, and we have time to prepare before we disembark. Use it wisely, because both of these missions are of vital importance. I'll assume, given the nature of time travel, that if we are successful in the past, the present should revert to normal as soon as we depart? Thus the Intelligence team may depart safely?"

''Temporal mechanics are no more of the realm of hypothesis but a well established scientific theory,'' Sonak assured her. ''It is a proven fact by many previous recorded instances that countering the alteration is but the first step in erasing it's effect upon the timeline. That must be done with great care to actually restore events exactly as they were prior to the alteration; else the results may only be another altered timeline. Although there is a margin of error before any significant alteration will be of consequence, we must aim for exactness as much as possible.''

He turned to the captain to finish.

''I will endeavor to study thoroughly this time period before we embark on our mission and bring as much data as possible to ensure our success.''

"I'll get us some period accurate clothing that won't draw attention, and we'll need scanning equipment that is adjusted to see through the Mudd shielding," Paris added in. "Also, in case this goes very sideways, Miss Dedjoy, do we have a... er, a flashy thing? A neuralizer? Something that can disrupt short term memory once introduced ocularly, possibly rendering the subject receptive to suggestion?"

Yeoman Dedjoy pulled out what looked like an antique PaDD that matched the coloration of the intel pod walls and tapped at it for a few moments before her eyebrows raised in surprise. Then her large doll-like eyes got bigger as she read the description. "Ah... Yes... It seems we have exactly that device... It works on exactly six races. Humans and anyone that's at least half human or a colonist of human descent, unjoined Trill, Rigelians, Bolians,892-IV natives, and Iotians. It's been in infrequent use on Earth since..." With this she looked up at those assembled at the table. "Nineteen forty two... When it was invented by a Polish scientist named... Ah... Aleksander Jab?o?ski."

''If memory serves,'' observed Sonak, ''the results were somewhat... inconsistent. However, I might be able to tip the odds in our favor with the addition of Vulcan mind suggestion techniques.''

"So if it all goes very south and we need an historic crowd to forget what they really saw, and instead remember the history from the datafiles, we might just have an option. I'll take those odds, thank you both very much." Paris beamed a smile at each of them in turn, then redirected to the Captain's yeoman, and the inventory keeper of the hoard. "For the record, Miss Dedjoy, you're with the boat on this one. We're going to have multiple teams in the field at once, and I need a command center with eyes and ears on everything. That, Miss Dedjoy, is your contribution to the mission, if you don't mind."

"I have the eyes for it and I'll have sensors in as many places as possible, Commander," Ila replied, confirming the order.

"Cochlear implants for everyone- we can't afford to be tapping our badges and making that cute little 'incoming' sound, so turn them on silent please, and keep them out of sight. Mr Sonak, may I assume this model's transporter accommodate this many transporter locks?" One thing Rita was never afraid of was admitting what she didn't know, and she would rather ask than assume.

''Our current transporter system can not only keep lock on all of us but in case of emergency keep all of us in the pattern buffers until each one of us can be rematerialized on our limited number of pads. Not the ideal conditions, but safely serviceable for our upcoming mission parameters. Standard protocols dictate that the highest ranking officer is to be beamed back first while the rest would be in transit, thus ensuring foremost that the mission commander is safe and sound.''

Sonak said this looking straight at his wife. He knew better than anyone else her past history with transporters and her anxieties regarding the device. After all, it made her a ghost for many years and torn her away from her own life, time and universe. Fortunately, the quantum imbalance causing it all had been corrected, and the risk was now null; but he understood her feelings were still there. Thus he wanted to assure her nothing of the sort would happen ever again.

Ila knew of the issues as well, as their experiments in curing Paris had almost ripped the entire ship through spacetime once or twice. "I might add that I have a personal emergency transport system built in as well. Range is severely limited, but should the need arise, it is an option."

"Good to know, Miss Dedjoy, Paris acknowledged. Then the bombastic blonde shook her head and grinned. "How much do you want to bet that somewhere out there... somewhen out there... there are Starfleet officers doing the same sort of thing we're doing right now," Rita Paris mused. "Officers from our future- who safeguard not only space, but time as well. Kirk did Starfleet authorized missions to the past for exploration and to test Spock's equations. I wonder how many time travelers are time touristing at that spot in Bozeman that night? I guess we might just find out while we add to that number. Or paradoxically we were always there... or is that predestination paradox?"

The Vulcan frowned a bit.

''A predestination paradox would occur only if our presence would have been the actual catalyst of the proper historical event; which is most unlikely, as we are embarking on a mission to stop an interference with those said events, not induce it. The chicken and the egg is no mystery any longer. In a causality universe, the egg came first. Here, there was the original event, then the altered one and now we will create the correcting event, erasing the alteration to bring everything back to its proper original state.''

He paused and frowned a bit more before finishing.

''Future time traveling officers will not be a problem; not only will they follow the Temporal Prime Directive and the Temporal Accords, as laid down by several of those officers met during the previous years and centuries, but what we are about to do is part of their own past history. Assuming we succeed. But whether or not we do, they will not intervene."

"The problem might lie with officers of the past, as much as those time travelers who do not follow the Accords or the Directive, the ones responsible for the Temporal Cold War history warns us about. These may try to interfere... or worse, participate, knowingly or not, in the very alteration we are trying to correct. Thus we must consider any intervening person a potential threat, and hazard to our mission, and deal with such a person accordingly and correctly. Stopping Mudd may be the least of our problems.''

Enalia twirled two fingers in the air. "I have a contact I should be able to get in touch with still to at least apprise them of the situation. If anything, they should be able to at least minimize the threat of you running afoul of any agents of the Temporal Cold War. As for the Temporal Prime Directive... Do your best not to break it. If you have to... Use your best judgement and don't mess things up. At least I know that whatever you do, it won't be as bad as what Mudd is doing."

''Degrees of... badness are irrelevant, captain,'' Sonak somberly pointed out. ''If we fail to restore things at least ninety-four point seven percent as they were, we will only start a new Krenim incident... but this time in our own quadrant of the galaxy. And may I remind you that the Krenim tried to alter history and then, even with the most advanced chronotechnology in our current time period, spent hundreds of years in a futile attempt to restore it... until the USS Voyager destroyed the source of the corruption; the technology itself. We should do everything to avoid falling into the same trap. And this will require the upmost attention to every detail of what we do and don't do.'''

“Preserve the proper flow of history, put things right that once went wrong, and hope that the next leap will be the leap home. Can do, Captain- we'll get it done,” the first officer offered with a smart salute. “All right people, we have our assignments and we know what we’re doing. Please be suited up to blend with the locals in 2063, and meet on pad 9 in an hour to get underway. Dismissed.”